Aberdaren to Porth Dinllaen - LLyn Peninsula - July 23rd.

The gentle sound of wind in rigging woke me as did the tide which swung me broadside and uncomfortably into the incoming swell; the sky initially overcast and grey, seen through the foreward  hatch, would soon burn off as the promised sunshine broke through later. I spent a few hours updating the blog then breakfasted on fruit and cereal, before hoisting the mainsail and retrieving fathoms of chain from yesterday's over cautious anchoring. With no mobile signal at the end of the peninsula, updating the blog would have to wait. Bardsey Sound boasts spring tides of 5Knots which, fortunately for me, are not due for nearly a week; so decided to have a closer look at the Island; despite a hostile tide for the first two hours. Close to, one can see why Bardsey would make an ideal refuge; the tides fierce, even on neaps would be a huge barrier for unwelcome visitors. Under sail, I could barely manage 3 knots and was swept out north of the island and far further than intended, as distracted; I scanned the island through binoculars viewing odd mounds and evidence of past habitation. A long pleasant battle with the race back on course with a SOG of less than 2 knots was the penalty; but I was in no hurray and the scenery spectacular, with gannets diving for fish nearby and huge grey seals basking on rocky ledges close to the water’s edge. Some just gazed at me with mild interest, others shuffled nervously, others startled, by my approach, panicked and waddled briefly before diving to safety in the deep. In the warm sunshine, I was thankfully, sailing as nature intended and wonder whether it was this that startled the seals – probably the females!    
    The north shore of the Llyn peninsula boasts a few, but almost empty beaches, pleasant sailing and extraordinary rock formations to admire. Sailing just yards from the is never tiring, although a few fishmermen, perched on precarious ledges, would rather you didn't! The further NE one sails so the cliffs diminish in size, softening and becoming more uniform. I watched a lobster fisherman retrieve pot after pot with one, two and sometimes more in each one, as I mirrored his pace up the coast; the tide now favourable.  
  Two mini Pork Pies for lunch with a wedge of Cheddar and Cheshire cheese and a banana washed down with ice cold grapefruit juice kept morale high as did two naked sunbathers, their swimming togs drying by their sides, who became aware of my presence, rather too late to hide their modesty, as I ghosted up the coast. As we all saw each other at the same time, we waved hesitatingly at each other before they resumed their horizontal postures, and I my helming. By 4pm the wind had died completely, reluctantly the iron topsail was called for, to catch the final and weakening offerings of the tide, before it turned foul. At least the batteries will be fully charged for a night on board and some computer time.
   I’ll leave exploring my new destination for tomorrow.