A Rocky Crossing

On Sunday morning we rise and finish our packing.  Today we are due to sail to Rosslare in the southeast corner of Ireland.  Anne and Francois, who are our holiday companions, bring over their luggage.  Much of what we are taking is in anticipation of some peche a pied in Connemara.  We have borrowed a roof box but even with this when the car is finally loaded we are packed to the gunnels.  Chest waders, nets and collecting baskets take up room!

The weather forecast tells us that a severe storm is brewing in the English Channel and Irish Sea.  We get to Cherbourg two hours ahead of our scheduled sailing at 4 pm.  It is already raining and windy.  We are told it is touch and go whether the captain of the Celtic Horizon will decide to delay the crossing or not.  In the event we set sail and very soon find ourselves pitching and rolling in high seas.  The weather conditions are described as varying from Forces 8 to 10. Thanks to a ‘magic’ patch that is placed behind the ear I am able to feel well and eat supper although moving around the boat is hazardous.  The weirdest effect of the storm is that I find myself sliding from the head to the foot of my bunk as my satin pyjamas glide over the sheet.  When I relax into the motion instead of fighting it, it is actually quite pleasant to be thus rocked.

Rising in the morning we take breakfast and finally disembark in Rosslare just after 2 pm, 5 hours later than scheduled.  We have booked into a B&B in Freshford, just out of Kilkenny.  It is a comfortable farmhouse.  After a reviving cup of tea provided by Gretta Power, we find a local pub to eat an evening meal then crash out back at the ranch.

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