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| WEEK FROM MONDAY, JULY 23 to SUNDAY, JULY 29, 2001 |
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Article and Photos from Andy Parr, Druidston Cross, Wales
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There's a lot to be said for sporting holidays and there's nowhere better to take a few sandyachts than the Dingle Peninsula in south-west Ireland. This year was our fourth visit, the third having been in June 1999 when we had to wear drysuits every day.
When we consulted the tide timetables to plan the trip, there simply weren't any convenient tides during late spring or early summer. Mark Lloyd (the M in MAD Designs, producers of the Potty) set the date for his wedding to Jo Fillery on 22 July and invited myself (Andy) and Dave Shaw along, together with Chris Wright, his "father" from our Ivanpah 2000 trip. It seemed right to celebrate Mark's wedding with some sailing somewhere and the tides for the week thereafter happened to be superb so off we went to the Dingle Peninsula.
The new Mr and Mrs Mark and Jo Lloyd.
The Irish beaches are ideally suited to exploration by Miniyacht. The three of us took two Potties, a Bootlegger and a Ludic, in addition to our 3 Class 5s, loaded onto a large trailer, towed by Chris' latest semi-converted campervan. On previous trips we have found that exploring unknown beaches in fast Class 5 sandyachts can be a little alarming at times - hitting moon country at speed or ploughing into unseen water-filled gullies on a wet beach - so we were itching to try out the new Miniyachts. Having acted as test pilot for our Potty, I seemed to have sailed nothing but Miniyachts for months and was really looking forward to sailing Minis in company.
The Fleet - what we took over plus the Irish sandyachters' craft all in a pretty row on Brandon Beach!
Mark's wedding week began for me with a full day's sailing on my Potty on Cefn Sidan on Saturday. Managed to get out onto the northern and southern banks, and it was a pure pleasure to potter around the pools and streams in areas where you would never dream of taking a Class 5. As a start to a holiday it could not have been better.
Sunday was spent travelling to Derbyshire for Mark's wedding, meeting up with Mike Hampton and Chris Wright. Mark's wedding was delightful and, on Monday morning, Chris and I headed sedately in convoy to Pembrey to grab a couple of hours exploration of the southern banks of Cefn Sidan at low water with the Miniyachts before meeting up with Dave to load up the trailer and head off to Swansea to catch the overnight Cork ferry.
The van, trailer and yachts were vigorously and impressively disinfected against Foot and Mouth on arrival at Cork. A leisurely three-hour drive took us to Banna Strand, along some marvellous stretches of new road and past countless new houses that had sprung up since our last visit. The sun was shining on Banna, the tide was out, as were the happy families, so we rigged the Minis and took them for a push.
After pausing for a cuppa while the sea breeze got itself organised, we had another go and shot off to the southern end. Inspired by that, we headed north to the stream by Black Rock that separates Banna Strand from Ballyheigue. Paddled through the stream, skirted the kelp beds and headed north to Ballheigue village much to the amusement of the tourists.
Normally this area of southern Ireland is almost deserted but, as the school holidays had started, we were not entirely surprised to find lots of folk out enjoying the beaches and the Bed and Breakfasts. A stroll around Ballyheigue village revealed no vacancies in the B&Bs at all. One kind lady booked us into a friend's B&B and we wisely wandered round to check it out. Good job we did otherwise the three of us would have had been sharing two double beds!
The journey back was just as exciting as the journey there with lots of holes to weave around. We ended up staying in a village called Ardfert the sort of place where you would never stop without good reason and we ended up with a little cottage all to ourselves next door to herself's shop, her house being on the other side of the shop, linked by connecting doors. Mercifully we missed the line dancing in the street, but heck it was a close shave. Like everywhere else in Ireland, there are far too many pubs per head of the population and, come closing time, the streets were jammed with local youth, it being "Whoopee for Ardfert!" week or somesuch.
Breakfast on Wednesday morning was delivered through the shop, past the 1990 calendar, to our table, then it was off to Brandon. Brandon is paradise, in case you havenıt read the write-ups of our previous visits.
Brandon Bay is horseshoe-shaped, facing north-west, with the most stupendous backdrop of hills and 950m mountains to the west, south and part of the east, with the Maharees - a sand bar to the north, at the end of which is the pub "Spillane's" and there is nothing finer than sailing all the way, some 5 miles or so, round to the end of the beach and popping in for a pint.
In previous years it has taken half the day to struggle through soft sand, moon country, gullies and all manner of novel terrain under variable wind conditions, and there has been a real sense of achievement in "end to ending" Brandon.
When the wind is up, a Class 5 is a bit quick for such a pioneering journey and the memories of high speed clashes with moon country and water-filled gullies come flooding back. This time we took the Minis and weaved effortlessly through the moon and walked them through the soft. Dave fell behind somewhat in the light, flukey winds that were prone to shift through 180 degrees given half the chance. The sunshine brought sea breezes and the mountains brought cool air rolling downhill and the result was unpredictable, to put it mildly.
At one point Chris and I were becalmed a mile or so ahead of Dave, who suddenly started tacking his way towards us. Some 200 yards short of us he fell out of the back of the wind, which then reached us and off we went with it. The beach nearer the northern end was covered in kelp (seaweed?), so we nipped through the dunes and sailed down the road to "Spillane's", much to the amusement of the happy families sitting outside in the sunshine. Clouting an overhead cable in the car park just added to the excitement, but Dave had the last laugh as he had the money for the Guinnesses in his pocket.
On the return leg, Chris sailed back to Dave, who was still becalmed and had been for a paddle and enjoyed the scenery, then Jim Hickey arrived, having spotted distant sails and driven up the beach. Unfortunately Chris took the wind with him and it was my turn to be becalmed for an hour or so.
Back nearer the van the wind had filled in and was more constant. The four of us enjoyed a couple of hours merrily belting around in the Minis, prior to a hearty meal in Ardfert, before Jim returned to his mobile home in Ballyheigue. A truly glorious day's sailing no helmets or waterproofs needed we all got wet and tired to be sure, but in the sunny, quick-drying weather none of us seemed to mind too much.
There's three big beaches on the Dingle Peninsula and on Thursday we decided to visit Inch, a west-facing sandbar sticking out of the southern side of the peninsula, as featured in the movie "Ryan's Daughter". To get there one has to cross the row of hills that form the backbone of the Dingle Peninsula, and sure enough, there was wind on our side but none at Inch.
We rigged the Class 5s, then adjourned for lunch with Jim to a pub known to us as "Dolly's", as Dolly Parton went there once and the photos are on the wall to prove it. In previous years we have found that, whilst eating the salmon sandwiches and partaking of a couple of creamy pints, the wind invariably fills in at Inch - which it duly did.
After a quick thrash in the 5s, we hastily rigged the Minis for another joyous thrasharound. Inch is popular with tourists as it is readily accessible, and our sand yachts became a temporary tourist attraction. The Miniyachts are very sociable little craft sailing one involves a lot of smiling and waving, particularly at small children. However, all good things come to an end and we loaded up the seven yachts and headed off back over the hills and out onto the Maharees at the northern end of Brandon Bay to book into Eleanor's B&B, next door to "Spillane's". There's a room at Eleanor's that overlooks the bay with Mount Brandon and the backbone hills as a backdrop, invariably partially hidden by light, fluffy clouds and the memory of throwing open the curtains in the morning to gaze out at that stupendous view, complete with gannets circling and diving, will last for years.
Mini yachts all sailing in a pretty row, homeward bound on Inch Beach.
"Spillane's" won the prize for steak of the week and had an ever-changing clientele, starting with surfers and young families and progressing through older couples to an overwhelming hoard of youth at around midnight. Everywhere we went, hordes of youth seemed to appear from nowhere at around midnight to completely overwhelm whichever pub we happened to be in - quite a phenomenon.
From Eleanor's it was a short drive round the bay on Friday morning to be on the beach, at Brandon again, a full two hours before the high neap tide. The sky was blue with not a cloud in sight even the tops of the mountains were clearly visible and it was wonderfully relaxing sitting around in the scorching sunshine getting sunburnt while carrying out some emergency repairs to a sail while the others tootled around in the Miniyachts.
Colman Billings arrived from Dublin with Chris' old yacht, after Jim had taken us out to the foothills of Mount Brandon for proper salmon sandwiches. The afternoon was spent sitting around and chatting in the sunshine, interspersed with bouts of sailing the Miniyachts downhill to the low water line, followed by a somewhat hasty pack-up to get back to Castlegregory in time for a pub supper (9pm). We had booked the B&B a couple of days earlier but the landlady took us in her car to a nearby bungalow, showed us round, and gave us the keys to it. Supper at a pub called "Ned Natterjacks" was followed by live music, which blew us out of the pub and into another one nearby, which again became crammed with youth as midnight approached.
On Saturday we returned to Brandon again we based ourselves at Kilcummin and arrived a couple of hours before high water but the tides were getting neapier by the day so there was still a little bit of beach available to play with at high water.
We were joined by Alan Watson and his 12-year-old son Stephen, with Mark Lloyd's old Glen on the roof. We had our seven yachts rigged, plus Jim Hickey's Seagull Quebec, Colman Billings' old ex-Chris Wright YOTT and Alan Watsonıs ex-Mark Lloyd Glen.
Young Steve Watson relishing a play in The Potty!
Alan Watson is a real enthusiast who lives on the beach near Drogheda, north of Dublin, with six yachts in his garden, and he is probably Ireland's leading sandyachter at present. Alan Watson is in touch with the relevant authorities and numerous photographs were taken from various angles to prove that sandyachting is alive and well in Ireland.
The wind came and went and the day degenerated into a Come and Try It session, with Swiss, Italians, Brits and even some locals having a go at sailing downhill to the sea, and being pushed back again.
At 5.30pm the wind finally arrived and the beach was suddenly covered with yachts belting around in all directions. There was an air of complete mayhem initially as we all charged around in our 5s enjoying the breeze, before realising that whoever the people sailing the Minis were, they did not know the rules of the road so a spot of policing was in order!
The Minis were duly repossessed in the name of safety and sanity was restored. We found that, if we sailed the Minis, no one else could! Again the wind was flukey, lots where we were, but none anywhere else. Eventually we had to pack up, to get to the pub before 9pm, to avoid missing the food. Again the music was wildly over amplified so we adjourned to the pub opposite, which also had live music but not so loud, where Dave received a call on his mobile from Merv in New Zealand.
Come midnight and the live music at "Neds", the first pub, had driven everyone out onto the street. We invited the Irish contingent to kip on the floor of our bungalow and, as we walked home, the village was packed with inebriated youth, hell bent on a beach party, which the local law were determined to stop, with a road block on our road. Castlegregory is absolutely in the back of beyond and such late night activity is most unusual, as our landlady assured us at breakfast the following morning.
Castlegregory - absolutely in the back of the beyond... we thought.
As we walked to our B&B for breakfast, noting the litter in the hedgerows, a decent breeze was blowing - and was still blowing when we arrived on Brandon once more. The Minis were hastily rigged and Alan Watson led the foray to the southern end. Colman Billings was first to pack up, for the six hour trek homewards, followed by Alan and Jim.
Once they had gone we found we only had one Miniyacht left, but the wind was still blowing nicely so Dave and I rigged our 5s and set off to see if we could get to "Spillane's" pub at the northern end of the beach. We had attempted the journey earlier in the Miniyachts but had been unable to make much progress through the slightly soft sand above the high water mark when the neap tide had been in. In our Class 5s, the journey was an absolute doddle. The beach was in fine condition, with a nice steady breeze blowing off the sea all the way round the horseshoe shaped bay. The northern end of the beach is usually covered with rocks and kelp, but this time we sailed effortlessly to the absolute end of the beach, below the pub car park, to enjoy a quick pint. The journey back was even more effortless, achieved in around 20 minutes, without noticing any soft sand at all.
Reluctantly we packed up at 5pm and headed east, stopping for a steak before arriving at our B&B near Cork, handy for the morning ferry and in time for a few late pints. We also stopped to check out another large beach on the north side of the Dingle Peninsula and vowed to return one year to check it out thoroughly with the Miniyachts.
An absolutely excellent holiday - definitely the best yet - with glorious sunshine on most days and no rain at all. The Miniyachts made the holiday, and are just perfect for exploring the beaches at a leisurely pace. It was also a pleasure to let so many complete strangers have a go at sailing the Minis, whereas one can rarely risk letting a novice loose in a racing Class 5. Memories of the trip include some excellent meals, some wacky B&Bs - and lots of smiling people waving cheerily at us as we sailed by in our Miniyachts.
If you havenıt got a Miniyacht yet then you really you should get one soon - no toy cupboard is complete without one!
Andy Parr
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Photo of the Year - a topless Jim Hickey aboard a "Potty"... what more can one say!
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