“When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back.”
Paulo Coelho

 

We have accepted the changes in our journey and the fact that the world has adopted a new set of rules for just about everything. Living in Ireland for almost 2 years, was never part of our plans… or was it.

It’s time to tell a strange story.

In the summer of 2018, July to be exact, Dan and I had sailed up the East Coast as we waited to jump back across the Atlantic to the Virgin Islands in the fall after hurricane season. We also delayed crossing because our daughter, Katie, qualified for The World Equestrian Games (WEG 2018). We had to stay in the states to watch her compete in the culmination of her life’s dream – representing the USA on a world level in the sport of equestrian vaulting.

Since we had to wait until September for WEG, we made our way up to Maine just in time to meet my family who spends a few weeks every summer in the seaside town of Scarborough. There was even a harbor near the vacation home where we could anchor. 

It was wonderful seeing my cousins, parents, and siblings. We fished, ate lots of lobster, and took everyone out sailing. We were tickled pink that we were able to join the reunion having sailed there on our boat!

One rainy day, boys went off to do boy things. My sister-in-law and I headed into nearby Portland to see what trouble we could get into. I got a much-needed haircut, then we had world-renowned clam chowder for lunch. To top off the outing, we decided to visit a pub or two. 

Deciding it was time to end our afternoon in Portland and head home, we were dashing down the street toward the car just in time for a torrential burst of rain. The deluge forced us to seek shelter in the nearest doorway. As we huddled under the doorway, I looked up and read the sign above us, “Psychic”.

I pointed upward. A smile spread across Kathleen’s face while I vehemently shook my head, “no”. 

Yelling to be heard above the cacophony of sheeting rain, she shouted, “Come on, what do you have to lose? I’ll even pay for it. Something forced us into this doorway. Let’s go find out what.”

 

The Psychic

 

Kathleen made me go first. I had never been to see a psychic before so I had no idea what to expect. I did know there were rumors of clairvoyance in my family, I just had never explored that realm.

My grandfather on my mother’s side, a distinguished seaman and mariner, woke up one stormy winter night screaming from a nightmare. He pleaded that there were men trapped on the rocks in a boat and they were dying. He tried to get out of bed to go save them but my grandmother told him he was crazy and forbid him from going out in the storm.

The next morning, in a nearby harbor, a ship had crashed onto the rocks in a horrendous ice storm. The crew was found dead, frozen to the mast and deck. 

I couldn’t rule out the idea that psychic abilities existed. 

In the tiny room, a woman with long dark hair sat at a small, round, table. The scene appeared as I imagined, minus the crystal ball. She motioned for me to sit across from her. I took my seat and a deep breath. 

First words out of her mouth… “You are someone who has learned to adjust your sails to stay on course.”

I laughed and tried to peer out the curtain to the waiting room to see if Kathleen was laughing. She had to have told the psychic I live on a sailboat. 

“Really? I live on a sailboat. Did Kathleen tell you that?”

The woman was either a great actor or she was shocked. “Honestly, I had no idea.”

She continued. Her first few observations about my life included my struggle with a family member. She told me I couldn’t control the outcome, I just needed to be accepting even though things were very difficult. 

I nodded and thought of my brother who I had been trying to help through alcohol and drug addiction. It had not been going well. Then I thought, who doesn’t have a family member they struggle with. That advice could be generic.

Next, she told me I was with my soulmate. That sent a shiver down my spine considering the name of my blog is Sailmates and my husband and I are basically a “love at first sight” story.

Finally, she got to my future. I did tell her my husband and I were sailing around the world. We had a 10-year circumnavigation plan. She got quiet for a few seconds, then cocked her head, and nodded in a knowing way.

“Two years into your journey, you are going to stop in one place for a long time. I don’t know the reason, but you will stay there.”

I laughed. “There is no way we are stopping our circumnavigation. We have a set plan that has to be followed to be in certain places by a certain season. Dan would never let me just hang out somewhere, especially so early on in our voyage,” I responded, crossing my arms with finality. 

“No, I am quite certain on this one,” she countered. “I don’t know the reason, but you will be halting your journey for an extended period of time in two years.”

She was introspective for a moment, then said, “I see something about teaching or education.”

 Being that I had been a teacher for many years, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but I certainly wouldn’t stop sailing to take a teaching job.

Before I knew it, my session was over and I took my seat in the waiting room. Kathleen had her session. By the time we left, the rain had abated. As we drove home, I grilled Kathleen. I made her promise me she hadn’t divulged the fact I lived on a boat. She told me the only thing she told the woman was that I was going first. We shared bits and pieces of what the psychic had revealed in our sessions.

When I think about the exact timing predicted by the psychic, I have to believe she received some cosmic sign of the pandemic. Our lives are unique in that she could foretell that our journey would be interrupted. 

Most of the world just stayed home. Not only that, my only real job during the ensuing pandemic time was making social media posts about the places we visited and things we saw. I made sure to include history and education about each of these sites. That psychic was spot on.

 

Finally Leaving Ireland

 

When we returned to Ireland from our last holiday visit to the US, our plans were nebulous at best for when, where, and how to resume our sailing. Countries in the Baltic were still locked down. Since the season was short to get there when things were open, we resigned ourselves to omitting it from our route. We wanted to be there by June and it’s now the end of May and we are still in Ireland. 

We were really looking forward to sailing through the fiords of Norway, along the rugged coast of Sweden, and visiting other coastal countries in that part of the world. However, a change in plans is a common occurrence for us. We adapt, set a new course, and move in whatever direction is best for us at that moment. Currently, it looks like we will be heading south toward the Mediterranean.

As for our pandemic respite, when we think about all the places we could have been stranded for almost 2 years, we can think of no better place than Ireland and no better harbor than Bangor. We feel fortunate that we were able to still travel and see new places and experience the beauty of this amazing country during our unplanned and prolonged visit. 

There is a sense of security being here. We have a mailing address, we have met fellow sailors who have helped and supported us in many ways. I have a feeling that our time here was more valuable than we realize, and that there was a purpose that drove us here, a piece of our sailing puzzle that we needed to put into place.

 

Another aspect of our sailing lives that has been out of kilter, is that we became separated from our boat buddies. When we sailed to Ireland, they sailed to Portugal. They were not fans of sailing in colder climates. We parted ways, hoping to rejoin together somewhere down the line. We knew we couldn’t put times, dates, or destinations in place; sailing just doesn’t work that way.

We were thrilled to be able to visit them in Florida as we drove across the country to see our kids. They spent several months back in the US as well visiting friends and family. We shared stories about what it was like being laid up and unable to sail. We are kindred spirits in that both of us took the opportunity to travel and see our own country while our boats were forced into hibernation.

Since they have been laid up in Portugal during the pandemic, our buddies have not ventured south as planned. Since we are no longer going to the Baltic, that presents an opportunity to try and reunite with s/v Whatever She Wants. Unfortunately, rejoining them is going to be a complicated process. They will be starting their voyage south soon, and we have had complications with our plans to leave Ireland.

 

Best of Intentions – Worst Luck

 

Upon our return, we had a comprehensive list of repairs for our boat, and an entire checked duffle bag full of spare parts. Our intention was to depart a day or two after we arrived in Ireland and head south, eager to resume our journey.  

All the repairs could wait; we could get to them in a leisurely fashion as we close the gap to find our friends – that is until our refrigeration system broke. Dan has been nursing it back to life for the past three years. Finally, we made the decision to declare it deceased. RIP Grunnert. 

Some people do sail without modern refrigeration. I attended a seminar by Lynn Pardee. She sailed around the world for years without an engine or refrigerator on her boat. She described in detail how she managed passages with provisions that needed no refrigeration.

We have made a lot of concessions regarding modern conveniences living on a sailboat. I’m more than happy with our Spartan lifestyle. However, while I feel I have the knowledge to live without a fridge, it is something I wouldn’t choose to give up. We haven’t had a freezer for over a year and I have been fine with that. The fridge, kind of a deal-breaker.

 

Never an Easy Fix on a Sailboat

 

Once again, we had to change and adapt to the current situation. We had to replace our refrigeration system. That is no easy task for several reasons. Our old system is 25 years old. It’s outdated and consumes so much energy, it’s not practical to even think about replacing it.

Conversely, so many people have been restricted from sailing that mariners are using the downtime to focus on boat repairs. Several major companies are out of stock for their fridge systems. 

Lastly, the installation of these systems is a complicated process. It’s certainly not a matter of unplugging the old unit and rolling in the new one and plugging it in like you would a new refrigerator in your kitchen. Each system has a unique method of providing cooling. They all have different installation requirements and procedures. 

Finding a boat mechanic to install a new system? Almost impossible in Northern Ireland. We asked our boatyard who does boat refrigeration in the area. They couldn’t list one person. Unless we wanted to sail to another country and try to find someone who had the time and materials, we were going to have to do this project ourselves. Thank God for Dan’s marine engineering degree!

Dan decided to go with Penguin for our new system. He ordered the parts from England and had them shipped to our marina. Next, we had to make an appointment to haul our boat out of the water for the installation of the keel coolers. We had to be out of the water as Dan had to drill two holes in the bottom of the boat.

The boatyard agreed to pull us out on Sat. afternoon and let us hang in the slings until Tuesday morning when they reopened. That would give us two full days to drill our holes and get the new hardware in place.

The first task was for Dan to drill out the old through-hull used by the old fridge system. The man at the boatyard told us that was the easy part. Just take out three screws and pull it out. Wrong!

Six hours into the task, Dan sat with his head in his hands, totally frustrated. He had tried, with his limited array of boat tools, to dislodge the seacock. It would not budge and he was out of ideas. 

Looking for new ideas, Dan pulled up some information on the internet and found a diagram of our through-hull fitting. The picture allowed him to visualize a new plan of attack. He pulled out his saw and began sawing when of course, his last blade broke. The nearest store for a new blade is a four-mile round trip. In the cold, wind, and pouring rain, Dan jumped on his bike to get new blades.

With the new blade and the help of a hammer, and chisel, Dan broke the mushroom in half. Progress! Using a heat gun and pry bar, he finally freed the boat from the grip of the very dedicated through-hull fitting. Next came the hard part…

It was unnerving drilling into our boat’s hull but totally necessary for the new fridge. Dan enlarged the old hole and had to drill a new hole on the opposite side of the keel. The difficult part was getting the exact locations and sizes for the holes. This had to be accomplished by Dan wedging himself into the bilge, between the engine, generator, and masses of hoses and wires in the engine compartment.

At the end of the day, Dan was dirty, exhausted, but happy to have accomplished the first part of the task. The holes were in place and we had one more day to put in the new components. I had been lending a hand to Dan when needed, but my day was consumed with sanding and refinishing our wooden cockpit doors and entryway. Eight hours of sanding left me tired, dusty, and ready for bed as well.

Since our boat was in slings, we chose to stay three nights at the Premier Inn in Bangor. It was only a mile out of town. We were happy to have a warm bed, t.v., and shower. We didn’t get off our boat until 8 pm, had not eaten dinner, had had a mile walk uphill to get to the hotel. We picked up dinner on the way through town and were thankful to have a clean and comfortable night’s rest.

 

 Phase 2

 

Thankful for small victories, the second phase of the installation went very smoothly. It took both of us to feed the hose and copper pipe through the new holes and secure the fitting with calk. Dan had to wedge himself back into the engine room and I had to maneuver the piping into the holes. Finally, Dan had to tighten the fittings securely against the hull to ensure they would be water-tight. 

Early Tuesday morning we walked to the boatyard and prepared Equus for her splash back into the water. Unfortunately, it was windy. We had difficulties getting into the sling because of wind, now we had to maneuver back into our narrow slip while battling wind and current.

The moment arrived when Equus was ferried back into the water. We boarded before she hit the water to make sure we had no leaks before leaving the safety of the sling. As soon as she was submerged, Dan hurried to the engine room and peeked in at the new fittings. He reappeared, two thumbs up, our handiwork was watertight. Within a moment, the slings were lowered and we were set free.

How Quickly Things Can Go Bad

 

Trying to get our boat into the slip is tricky on a good day. Throw in low tide to reduce the already small channel behind our berth, strong winds and current, and it becomes a nightmare. Our plan of attack was to motor past our slip, turn around at the T junction, and have a better angle to the wind to enter the slip.

Our boat is difficult to back up because it has a “prop walk” to the left. Unless you are backing at high speeds, it’s almost impossible to back up straight. Keeping this in mind, Dan gave our boat as much leeway in the tight channel as possible before doing a K turn.

Just as he started to navigate the turn, a motorboat came into view. Dan had to pause to let it by. In that short time, the boat drifted sideways because of the wind and current and we were now perpendicular in the narrow channel, rock on one side, a mega yacht on the other. 

Dan tried to regain control, but the boat suddenly stopped responding. For some reason, the engine was sluggish and not getting the power we needed to get out of the sticky situation. It was terrifying.

After several attempts and near collisions with the yacht (better than the rocks) Dan regained forward momentum, narrowly missing the channel piling by inches. We still had to get into our slip.

God was with us this day, as our boat neighbor, who had delayed his departure because of the heavy wind, happened to see us struggling. He and his wife came out on the dock and we were able to throw him the lines to assist us in getting tied to the dock. 

Even with their help, it was a huge struggle. It took two people pulling with all their might to get the boat near the dock. We did turn sideways briefly and had to fend off from the motorboat next to us. Thankfully, we finally got secured.

Things were about to get worse.

Dan secured all the lines and was plugging in the electric cord when I went down into the cabin. As I walked past the engine room, I heard the most horrible sound imaginable. Rushing water. My first thought was that our new through-hulls were leaking. I rushed to the stairs and screamed for Dan.

Dan came bounding down the steps. “What’s wrong?” he yelled.

“Water is gushing into our boat!” I yelled back in panic. The first thought that rushed through my head was that we were going to have to go back to the marina and spend another $600 to get pulled out. And then… Can we get there before we sink?

Springing into emergency mode, Dan and I both peered into the engine room looking for the source of the leak. He found the problem within a few seconds. It was not only a leak but also the reason our boat had not been responding. The water pipe going to the transmission was broken. 

Water was pouring into the hull from the broken pipe. Dan grabbed the broken end and held it above the waterline. He shut the seacock that lets in the water and capped the pipe. Meanwhile, the bilge pump was doing its job and pumping the water out. 

During all the climbing Dan had to do over the engine for the hole drilling, he must have compromised the fitting. The extra stress of battling the wind and current caused it to break. At least the fix was not complicated and the part not expensive. 

Not out of the woods yet, we soon realized that the bilge pump was continuing to cycle on and off about every 2 to 3 minutes. Dan spent another agonizing hour looking for more leaks but found none.

I know Dan is my hero for many reasons, but watching him have to go back into the engine for more hours of work made me realize just how amazing he really is. It took him another few hours of work in the tight, greasy, compartment to pull out the bilge pump and diagnose the problem. After a good cleaning, he replaced the pump and it operated normally.

 

Back on an Even Keel

 

Figurately, not literally, we are on an even keel again. The constant high winds keep up listing and rocking in the slip. This has been one of the coldest and windiest springs the Irish can ever remember. 

We pass locals on the dock with our hoods pulled up, wearing layers of clothing, and often get the remark “Great day for it!” That is the Irish sarcastic expression for – “My oh my does this weather suck!”

Anyway, things are stable again. We are not sinking, we are still alive, and still in love. We have 6 days to finish the fridge installation, order any last-minute parts as we will not have a mailing address anywhere in the foreseeable future. 

As far as our travel plans, we have several harbors picked out along the Scottish and Northern Ireland coasts. We will choose which one we sail to as we begin our journey south based on weather and wind direction. 

We have to make a 4-day passage through the notoriously bad Biscay Bay, the body of water between France and Spain. It can be rough there because of a shelf that drastically changes from 1,000’s of feet to 200 feet. The abrupt change in elevation can cause massive waves and very rough conditions.

We’ve talked to more than one local sailor who has had a nasty encounter with that stretch. We will have to choose our weather window wisely. We will also try and skirt around it to some degree to stay in deeper water and hopefully get lucky and have fair winds and a gentle sea.

 

The End and The Beginning

 

We have heard things are opening back up slowly, so we will only make short-term sailing plans. Once we get to Portugal, we can begin to chart out a travel plan. We will visit what we can, and live life one day at a time.

It is probable that we will head back across to the Caribbean in November. We don’t want to be in a cold climate another winter. I need beaches, warm water so I can swim, dive, and use my paddleboard. I want to lay on sunlit sandy beaches. I love Ireland, but I’m very tired of the cold!

Our time in Ireland is coming to an end. As excited as I am for our upcoming adventures, I do have some trepidation again about leaving the safety and security of the harbor we have come to know and love. Once again, I must return to travel mode and find my sea legs. 

The advice of C. JoyBell reminds me that change is part of the process. We have adapted and changed to suit many unusual situations this past year. I know we will be fine. I must embrace and look forward to the wonderful adventures we will be having. I look forward to sharing them all with you. Thank you for all your support.

“We can’t be afraid of change. You may feel very secure in the pond that you are in, but if you never venture out of it, you will never know that there is such a thing as an ocean, a sea. Holding onto something that is good for you now, may be the very reason why you don’t have something better.” ― C. JoyBell 

Fair winds,
Alison and Dan
 s/v Equus