A Perfect Day (with apologies to Lou Reed)

There are the very few occasional days when everything seems to go right, the 1999 Round the Island race was one, Thursday 7th June 2001 was another. I relocated Judicious, my much loved Nicholson 32, to Ireland from the Solent. Unfortunately, I grazed a rock in Roaring Water Bay and decided that I ought to have a look at the keel, so took her around to Dunmanus Bay and dried out alongside the quay at Kitchen Cove. Fortunately there was only a small gouge on the port leading edge which I filled with epoxy until a more permanent repair could be made during the winter lay-up, and patched up the antifouling. I was up early the next morning for the 07.00 coastguard forecast which was good, the day was bright, a mild front having passed through during the night. Both of us (Judicious and I, as I was sailing single-handed) were anxious to get going, having been at the same place for two nights running. Raised the sails, got the anchor up and there was a gentle reach down the bay. Dunmanus Harbour looked a good spot for breakfast, and I had not visited it before.

With a freshening wind it was a little more than an hour until we were off Carbery Island and the entrance to the harbour opened up (in this part of the world 'harbour' often means a sheltered bay). The leading line is Dunmanus Castle at the head of the bay, but the pilot book warns that the Admiralty chart positions the castle 0.6m E of its correct location, in fact on the opposite side of a small river. The castle has been there for about 500 years.

I anchored off the west beach, breakfasted, pumped-up the dinghy and rowed ashore. A desolate, attractive spot, at low tide many rock pools, met an elderly gentlemen who, with a bucket, was settling down to a morning collecting periwinkles. At the head of the bay there was a single track road with a very occasional car and a small quay which showed signs of being used by a fishing boat.


By lunch time the wind had freshened considerably, so changed jibs (I am a bit old fashioned, in using hanked on jibs), took in a reef and departed. A great beat down Dunmanus Bay, a short and a long, the absence of a chop made for a fast sail. My new 100% jib is cut high and slim and makes a wonderful slot, so much better than a furling genoa. Sun out, creaming wake. Visibility must have been greater than 30 miles. Cracked the sheets as we rounded Three Castle Head (the ICC pilot book helpfully explains that there are ruins of three castles upon it) and reached down towards Mizzen Head with its prominent lighthouse. The usual slop off the headland was hardly noticeable, despite the on-shore breeze.

As course was changed to round the Mizzen the other prominent light on this part of the coast, the Fastnet, appeared 10 miles away. A run now, with the reef shaken out towards the sheltered harbour of Crookhaven. Had to avoid a couple of salmon nets, which are about half a mile long and set from the shore, and guarded by their owners. The floats are difficult to see, but if a fishing boat suddenly starts coming towards you with the crew gesticulating, you know you are near one.

A beat up Crookhaven to the little hamlet off which I picked up a mooring. Going ashore I was disappointed to find that Michel who ran the excellent french restaurant for many years had moved on. The restaurant is now called Out of the Blue' and looked expensive, but the landlord of O'Sullivans bar next door said it had a good reputation. Not having eaten out very much during the previous couple of weeks I decided to give it a go. The owner discovered that I was from the blue boat and asked 'Were you in Dunmanus Harbour this morning?'. Small world.

That evening I sat in the window, with a glorious sunset and eating equally glorious food. Ling, delicately smoked locally, on blinis with lumpfish roe, fresh tuna, caught the previous day off the Mizzen and just seared, so it was pink and practically raw in the centre. An excellent bottle of New Zealand white. A menu is here.

Owner/Chef Burvill came to join me and we talked food and boats. He is restoring a very traditional wooden boat and we discussed how to get vintage timber, and other matters, as two sailors do. Outside on the quay, two lads, big brother and little brother, were kicking a football turn and turn about against a house wall. Little brother was having great fun making big bother run as far as possible. Occasionally the ball would go over the quay and big brother would have to go off in his dinghy to fetch it. They were joined by a black mongrel who was not quite so familiar with the rules and kept on retrieving the ball and giving it to the wrong brother.

To O'Sullivans, where the landlord enquired about my meal. Burvill has a couple of other restaurants and apparently the word 'Michelin' has been mentioned. A pint of the blackstuff, and even though it was late, the two brothers joined their parents for pop and crisps. I thought, how very civilised compared to so much of the UK.

A black night, but so clear there were an incredible number of stars showing. The small anchor light hanging from Judicious's boom was reflecting in the now calm water as I rowed back. I contemplated how good life can be as I sat in the cockpit having a night cap of Paddy's whiskey, and a full moon rose above the hills to the east diluting the loom of the Fastnet light.



Tony Howard

October 2001

A version of this article was published in the magazine 'Pratical Boat Owner', June 2002