Strangford Lough, south-east of Belfast, has been described as the finest small boating area in the British Isles, with its many islands (supposedly 365), wildlife, and strong tidal currents, in fact all the allure of the sea without its major dangers. My boat, an elderly GP14, usually sails off the Antrim coast at Glenarm, which is where I spend weekends. This is a very beautiful area, but not ideal for small boats by any means. So a trip to Strangford was something to look forward to.

I had arranged to cruise in company with Ken and Sean in Sean’s world famous £50 Enterprise dinghy, which he had recently acquired. Martin was crewing with me and we arranged to meet at the public slip at Whiterock at 11.00 am. The wind was from the north-west and about force 3-4, a bit stronger than forecast. Sean and Ken proposed a trip to Killyleagh, further south on the same shore, but I said I’d rather not start off directly downwind and have a long beat at the end of the day, so we decided to head NE up Mahee Roads and have a look. Martin and I rowed out through moored boats, picked up a buoy and set reefed main only (using Len Wingfield’s version of Ian Nicholson’s single-line reefing system, which I have found very satisfactory). Sean and Ken sailed out under jib only and set the main after they had cleared the moorings. Sean and Ken by the way are not inhibited by the caution which I seem to possess in large quantities. (I think that is the best way to put it!). In fact, they have yet to inflate their buoyancy bags. Their only concession to conditions was to roll about a foot of sail around the boom.

Martin and I were now moving nicely up the south shore of Mahee Island, working out our position by identifying the various islands and ‘pladdies’, as the tidal islands are called here. Approaching Mahee Point (about 1300) Martin and I decided to round the point and anchor in the lee of Bird Island for lunch. Ken and Sean had meanwhile pulled past us to leeward and were further out in the main Lough. When they got up to us, they said they had nearly been over. Several entertaining moments ensued as they tried to come up under our lee, including one gybe which momentarily revealed their centreboard. Eventually, they tied on to us, leaving Martin complaining of severe internal damage due to excess laughter. Had lunch and watched the bird life for a while.

Sean and Ken said they would like to head across the Lough to Chapel Island and, as it was ‘their turn’ so to speak, we fell in with this. (They seemed to see us as their safety boat). After another wild gybe or two, the Enterprise set off to the northeast, while we packed up and prepared to follow. As we cleared Bird Island we left all shelter behind and, with the wind and waves directly on the beam, things began to get a little uncomfortable. At several points the waves got short and steep, maybe because the tidal current was stronger there (against wind at about 2 hours before HW, although the chart only marks a 1 knot current). Sailed round to lee of Chapel Island and joined Ken and Sean, where they were tied to the shore. They were very impressed with the way we had bobbed about during the crossing. We landed and walked about for a while.

Sean and Ken, who clearly think big, thought that a trip to Kircubbin (downwind) and then back to Whiterock (close-hauled on starboard tack) would make a nice end to the day. At the exact moment that we sailed the wind dropped suddenly to a very light air. Martin and I raised the jib and unreefed the main, but we were still hardly moving. Faced with the prospect of rowing home, we decided to skip Kircubbin and head directly for Whiterock, more or less reversing our outward route. From my experience in the mighty oceans off Glenarm, I expected to have an uncomfortable half-hour or so slamming about as we crossed the open water, but was relieved to find that the waves had gone.

As we ghosted back under a lovely clear open sky, the wind returned slowly, but now from the north-east and with Martin at the helm, I sat back and revelled in the idyllic conditions. Ken and Sean had stood further to the south and were now almost lost against the background of a fleet of yachts racing in the main channel. We thought about investigating the bay between Mahee and Reagh Islands, but figured that if we lost the wind again, we would have a long round-about row, so we held on to the southwest, now in bright sunshine. Approaching Mahee Roads, the wind began to strengthen slightly. Clearly, a sea breeze had now taken over from the north-westerly.

By now Martin was starting to feel hungry, even though he claimed his stomach was still hurting from all the earlier laughter. We talked about packing up, but I thought it would end the day nicely if we sailed back round Rainey and Sketrick Islands, especially as this would mean the sun would no longer be directly in our eyes. We turned between Lythe Rock and Calf Island to find that the tide was now starting to ebb. Off the north shore of Rainey Island the water was flowing like a river and if the wind had not been as fresh as it now was, we would not have made it. Ken and Sean had followed us in and caught and passed us, looking a very fine sight indeed. We were on a close reach on the starboard tack, so would have to gybe around into the channel between Rainey Island and the shore. We did this too soon and lost a lot of ground to the tide. I took the helm, sailed further in, gybed again under the monastic ruins of Nendrum and sailed on past the light-vessel (yacht club headquarters) and moored boats. As we turned between Rainey and Sketrick Islands we were suddenly headed and had to make several short, confined tacks between the moorings. Luckily the tide was now on our side. We rounded Sketrick Island and reached the slip at about 1815 — a very good day in a lovely spot.