Before I go any further – and knowing this will be posted on the 4th – HAPPY 4TH OF JULY TO EVERYONE BACK HOME IN THE USA

So the day finally arrived – not the 4th, but the Saturday we were going to spend in Dublin. A whole day of indulgence, including a much anticipated visit to the Guinness Storehouse (aka Brewery). I had reached out to my friend Column Butler for help in securing the tickets. A lazy morning doing essential household chores, lunch with my nephew Ian and his wonderful wife and their two “wee” girls and then hit the Guinness. 

STOP – all change. The day before (so Friday) a phone call sent us reeling! The incoming training skipper called to strongly suggest we needed to head out of Dublin late on Saturday evening and get over to The Isle of Man, in order to then get over to Bangor (NI) and then to Campbletown and on to Port Ellen on the Isle of Islay – where there were a whole bunch of Whisky Distilleries waiting for us to tour. So compromise of compromise – the tour of the Guinness Haven became a perfunctory (but interesting) visit with just the One pint of Guinness (which we each pulled ourselves and perfectly and have certificates to prove it – although our coach for the activity was a very – very – very pretty blond Irish lass called Sarah – who looked like she could no more down a pint of Guinness than she could have played mid field for Charlton Athletic. I don’t remember what she actually advised for the “pulling of the pint” – but I know she was rather deft at speaking with her eyes! Greater focus needed here from me.

And so we arrived back at the boat on Saturday evening, ate a quick meal and grabbed an hour of sleep before heading out at midnight for Peel, Isle of Man (meaning Isle of Isles from what I can understand). Leaving Howth at midnight felt like we were running out without telling Dad what was happening and where we were going (never actually did that as a youth, he wasn’t terribly interested in my stupidity). The sail over to the IOM was more of a motor than a sail (we did sail for a couple of hours – but the wind was variable and light and a thorough pain in the a***). So after a bit of sail and a blast of motoring, we entered into the harbor at Peel and docked up in the Marina at 11.30 in time to have a feast of a brunch – Bacon, Eggs, Tomatoes and ……….beans, yes beans (on toast no less). Our sail had been uneventful, but it had to be well planned because you can only enter the Marina in Peel (passing through the old harbor) in a window of 2 hours before or after High Tide ( and because of our size, we really only had a 1 HR window either side – to deep a keel). There is a devise at the Marina entrance called a flapper gate and then a small swing bridge – both of which need to be opened. When closed, the flapper maintains a constant height in the Marina and so you don’t end up with a bunch of boats all stuck on the mud. 

I had tried to call the Harbour Master on his Radio an hour before our arrival (as requested in the Port’s entry in the Sailing Almanac) – but there was no answer – nor from the much bigger Port Officer in Douglas (the main city and port on the other side of the Island). The Almanac clearly states – “Contact Peel Harbour Control on Channel 12 – at least 1 hour before your arrival if no response contact DOuglas Harbor Control also on Channel 12”. So that’s what I did and got nothing back for my trouble. So having already established I had a cell phone signal – I called your man in Peel (cell number provided). 

“Hello there, how are you?” he says very jovially. I explained I had just tried to raise him (and Douglas for that) on the radio as requested, as we were about an hour out. “Oh – that won’t work” says he, “I only have a hand held radio – line of sight only and you aren’t line of sight yet are you?”. Well an hour out – no-one is likely to be. So how exactly are people supposed to comply with this – make contact one hour before from a location that is almost certainly “beyond line of site” and therefore not operative with a hand held radio. 

“Just for sniggers and grins, how hoes this one hour thing work if we’re not line of sight” asks I. 

“Best to come into the Harbour where I can see you and then I can open the bridge for you”. 

“So ignore the entry in the Almanac then?”

“Oh no, you shouldn’t do that – you should try to make the call”

“On your cell phone like it says – got it”

“No no – always try the radio first – I always have that with me”

“The one that’s line of sight and not likely to pick me up an hour before”

“That’s the one”

“Got it”

I am unlikely to ever visit Peel again as a sailor – nothing personal you understand. In fairness, the Harbour Master was there to meet us in person as we came by the Swing Bridge and he sprinted to meet us and we finished docking. When we told him we were only going to stay for about 10 hours – he didn’t ask for any money and he still gave us the magic code we needed so we could use the much needed “facilities”! You can’t ask for more than that (well at least not from an hour away – unless you’re line of sight).

A quick word about the Isle of Man. It seemed a lovely place to visit – rugged scenery and a great coastline. The people all seemed very friendly and there was a genuine sense of welcome. I just wouldn’t go there to do a VHF radio course.

The highlight of my visit to Peel was getting a visit with a couple who I hadn’t seen for almost 40 years. Both had been very close friends when Iwe were all in Sixth Form (so Juniors and Seniors in High School), but funnily enough, they weren’t in the same group of friends as each other – they knew each other, but they moved in different circles and I moved in both of the circles they moved in (neither were the cool kids, except to us). Jacquie and I had Christine Thomas and another Jackie (Pierce) and Jane Sellars (sadly now dead) and Gillian Miller and Fintan Donnelly and Simon Tennant (about name drop – Neil Tennant’s brother – come on – Pet Shop Boys fame). Anthony was with Joe Rawcliffe, David Smyth, John Ross, Paddy Duffy and some twins (two to be precise), very pretty girls, can’t remember their names though. So after we had all broken up and headed away from home to college – Anthony and Jacquie “got it together”. They subsequently married and some years later moved to the IOM and subsequently raised a lovely family there. What a joy it was to catch up and exchange notes of the critical things that had happened over the years. I reached out from Dublin through the magic of Face Book Messenger and we were able to figure out how to connect and have a coffee together should I safely arrive in Peel the next day. And I did and so we did! Coincidently, they had just moved across from the other side of the IOM to Peel. What a joy it was to see them and reconnect and we have committed to seeing each other again sometime in the future and probably not leave it the 40 years. Many thanks Anthony and Jacqueline Robinson, so nice to see you again and to hear about your life and family. Anthony re-trained quite some years a ago and moved from working in big Pharma and went in to teaching. He is now a Head teacher in a Primary School and he still plays his guitar like he did years back. What a great story.

(PS. I once asked Jacqueline out on a date when we were about 17 and she said no, so it might have been a little embarrassing seeing her again, don’t you think? But – after 40 years – there clearly were no hard feelings and I think she was able to confirm she’d made the right decision back then! Seems we both eventually won – even if my heart ached for at least a week after she said no.) 

We’re now actually sailing at sea as I write and  we’re heading to Bangor in Northern Ireland. It’s a stopping off place for us en route the Scottish Islands. The weather is – raining (what – in the Irish Sea, never). The winds are lowish (F3 – 4), may be picking up a little latter and as the Met office like to predict – with visibility good, possibly moderate to occasionally poor at times. How to put yourself out there with a clear opinion! Enjoy this photo of Peel taken this morning when we awoke.

More from Bangor and then the Islands.

Pip pip,

N