Normally Hobo races round Dublin Bay with the Shipman 28 fleet. However once a year we try to go somewhere else in our strong, almost classic, little boat. This year it was north to Strangford Lough where I had last been in the early 60's with Tom Sheppard in 'Greylag of Arklow'. I remembered it as stunningly beautiful. Sadly the intervening history of our Island had not encouraged further visits. Now it was time to see it again.
I was delighted when the Northern Branch of the Irish Cruising Club announced a rally in the Lough in mid-May. Various obligations intervened however, and the best we could do was to set out a week later on our own. Our four joint owners agreed to participate, until someone spotted that an opera was being staged in Castle Ward, a National Trust property near Strangford. All wives and other crew rapidly signed on, tickets were booked and accommodation reserved. Hobo itself only sleeps three, or four at a pinch.
Richard Hooper, Paul Montgomery and I set out early from Dun Laoghaire on Monday 25th May in light airs arriving at the mouth of Carlingford Lough at 1400 hours as planned to take the tide up to the marina. In the meantime our ladies had installed themselves in Ghan House in Carlingford, a charming country house hotel. They collected us for a very good dinner in the Kingfisher Restaurant. We had hoped to explore the Lough by boat, but the weather militated against so we instead wandered around this lovely historic town and its medieval buildings. King John's Castle was at one time very important in controlling the crossing of the Lough, and the old Abbey is worth a visit. Oysters at the Carlingford Arms also deserve a mention as does dinner at Ghan House itself.
On Thursday we proceeded north on a fine offshore reach, and by passing Ardglass arrived at the entrance to Strangford Narrows by the start of the flood. We had studied the detailed charts, but were still apprehensive as we motored in through a growing mist, and saw the speed over the ground pick up until we were doing almost 12 knots over the ground, the fastest that Hobo has ever known. We seemed to be in control and our Garmin chart plotter agreed, until suddenly a rather large object appeared straight in front of us. It was not on the chart or the Garmin. It was a large round object with a substantial bow wave and a hum of heavy machinery. We missed it and carried on even more apprehensively. Then spotting the new Portaferry Marina through the mist on the north side of the Narrows, we noticed that there was room and decided to turn in there rather than continue into the Lough itself. It turned out to be an excellent facility at very reasonable cost. We rapidly made it our HQ for the remainder of the trip. The Portaferry Hotel nearby serves excellent fare. Moreover the ferry to Strangford town goes every half hour, and charged us nothing quoting an age exemption which they felt might apply to us.
The large object in the centre of the narrows turned out to be an experimental tidal electricity generator. In a boat one has to be ready for everything.
On Friday the three mariners had intended to sail up the Lough to the north, but found themselves in a thick and heavy mist while the rest of the country, so we were told on our mobiles, basked in glorious sunshine. We did walk up the north side of the Narrows and by early afternoon the sun had appeared. We motored out and visited Ringhaddy Creek and other places along the western shore of the Lough. It was indeed as stunning as I remembered, the main difference being that it was now full of rather fine yachts against a handful in those earlier days. The mist again descended and we were happy to have our Garmin and the detailed chart with which to regain our marina berth.
In the meantime co-owner Harry Byrne had arrived as had Hugh McCullough, Pippa Coughlan and Dave Kearns, all regulars on board. Twelve people in all including five wives gathered at the Cuan hostelry in Strangford, before dispersing to clean up and climb into the dinner jackets which had arrived by car.
“Die Fledermaus" by Strauss was lively and well performed in a large barn off the main courtyard of the great house. In a tent off the courtyard dinner and drinks were served beforehand and during the interval. It was Glynbourne Northern Ireland style, and it was well done in every respect.
On Sunday morning we visited the gardens at Mount Stewart by car following which on a calm and sunny afternoon, a substantial ship's company motored down to Quoile Yacht Club at the southern tip of the Lough and tied up to their pontoon. We were made most welcome but the bar was closed. I suspected that the Irish Cruising Club had drunk them dry on the previous weekend. However Hobo did have refreshments on board including tea and a bag of ice for other ingredients.
We dined together at the Cuan, which offers good food and accommodation. Richard, Dave and I slept on board and on Monday morning set out early for the long voyage home. We had a short sail in light airs but ended up motoring without incident.
In this mini-cruise we only visited two places, but both are very special and both offer a most memorable experience by land or sea.
