Any port in a storm...

Just spent a couple of days in port, stocking-up on supplies and having me anchor-chain fixed. Although every port has a similar feeling and texture, they are all different and each has its own little delights for the sailing man - some more salacious than others.

Nothing blue on offer at my port of choice apart from the cheese in one of the many delicatessans and cafes, for I rested-up at the ancient Irish town of Howth. Howth is a delight and, these days, a very multicultural delight. There were people from every corner of the globe, mostly fishermen - and great fun, all of them. I played cards, drank rum and told some very tall tales of the sea. Heard a few good ones too. One Spanish trawlerman told me of a night ten years ago when a huge sea-monster sank a vessel by yanking its chain. He says he witnessed this from a ship not half a mile away. I asked him if it might have been a submarine, caught in a fishing net - he swears no! I must say, I don't really believe in sea-monsters, but a life on the briney does leave one with a deep sense that anything is possible where the sea is concerned. So, who knows?

Anyway, I took a couple of pictures, so you can see how lovely a place Howth is.

Didn't catch any monsters on film - but if I do, you'll see it here first. What I hope I did capture is the spirit of adventure and excitement of being on boats - the vast expanse of clouds, the deep blue sea, the crisp sea air. When you're out there, away from everything, with just the sky and the sea for company there is a tremendous sense of calm and peace. Also, though there is a deep-rooted longing for land somewhere in the bottom of every sailor's heart, there is a palpable dread of the return journey. For the sea has a way of making life seem somehow unreal and magical - as though you are in a place out of time. And, although she can be cruel, every man and boy who makes a life at sea trusts the ocean, for we sailors make friends with her and don't like to stray too far from her lilting waters.