Having had no wind on the way to the Scillies and a couple of days of calm weather to explore the islands, it was time to plan our departure.  Obviously, this meant the onset of gales.  Figured that heading out into the Irish Sea with high winds and rough seas forecast was likely to be uncomfortable.  Delaying 2 days gave us a chance to do a couple of odd jobs including fixing a couple of minor leaks with the all-purpose fantastic, if fantastically expensive, sealing-gluing-gunk Sikaflex291.

We also remade the splice between the anchor chain and rope.  This followed being woken at 4am by Alex’s anchor-alarm app, notifying us we were no longer quite where we used to be.  Although New Grimsby Sound was sheltered from the seas breaking outside, in the high wind we dragged our anchor into deeper water, a vicious circle because as the water deepened, the inadequate length of chain became progressively more so.  It all traces back to a problem we knew of but had never fixed: the splice that joins chain to warp was too fat to fit easily through the windlass so we have tended to anchor only on our 25m chain.  In the shallow waters of the east coast, we had got way with this for 18 months.

After 3 days of scrutinising multiple weather forecasting services, we decided that the conditions looked manageable for a 48-hour window, plenty to get us to Ireland.  Unusually, the passage plan was very simple: leave mid-morning and head in whichever direction we could make comfortably with the westerly wind.  Whatever our speed, we would arrive somewhere or other in daylight the following day.  Where though?  Baltimore looked right out (too far west), a shame as Helen won’t see the Fastnet Rock.  Kinsale looked promising, Kilmore Quay (east) if need be, various possibilities in between or, if everything went badly wrong, Pembrokeshire!

Everything felt good as we left.  Kinsale looked likely, at a close reach; easier than a direct beat to windward.  As forecast, the wind rose (we took in reef 1) and rose (reef 2).  It got dark.  Not forecast by any weather app we had looked at, the wind continued to rise to a sustained 30 knots, gusting high 30s.  (Force 7 gusting 8).  It became a roller coaster ride.  The boat was supreme, charging through the waves.  We can’t have done too bad a job in setting up that wonderful Petersen rigging after all.

Helming is hard work in these conditions, we did hour long shifts in daylight, 45 minutes in the dark. Ventata’s deep fin keel, that makes her so manoeuvrable, means you tend to get knocked sideways by every wave.  You steer instinctively, trying to react to each wave before it grabs and spins you, keeping the wind just ahead of the beam.  Now and again you get hit on the quarter by one coming from a different direction, sending everything sideways that is not tied down. 

It started to rain.  The wind came round as expected, making us close-hauled against it.  In these conditions Ventata seems to go through the waves rather than over them.  Lots of water comes over the bows; sleeping is a challenge.  The boat is continuously heeled to leeward, so if you lie on the windward seat you roll off.  The leeward seat is not attractive as water landing on it doesn’t drain.  So, when not helming, we each got some sleep curled up on the cockpit floor with a pile of wet ropes – nice!  The helmsman doesn’t get away from it either: any water landing on the windward side deck runs backwards and forwards, collecting until it reaches a groove in front of the rear cockpit locker and then empties periodically into their boots ☹

Finally, after about 140 miles on port tack, we started to get some shelter from the Irish coast and made it into Kinsale about 25 hours after leaving the Scillies. We have also found a new leak into the cabin ☹. However, we had a lot of comments about Ventata on arrival (“a grand offshore yacht”) – clearly a discerning lot, the Irish.