I would have dearly loved to have spent some time in the Aran Islands but I was feeling the time pressure quite acutely. We could make it around Ireland just but having already lost 7 days to bad weather, there was no allowance for further time loss in case of further bad weather, something I reckoned that would be likely to happen. So a little after midday we slipped out of Kilronan and started to beat out towards Gilan Head and Golan Tower marking the entrance to the Inner Passage. The wind had returned and we had 2 reefs in the main and the no 3 genoa set. Of course we had to tack all the way through the Inner Passage with its unmarked rocks and many Islands posing tricky pilotage problems. I had to keep asking myself questions like "Now is that Inishmakfeen or Duck Island or perhaps part of the mainland?" Still it was absorbing stuff and before long we sailed up to Roundstone and set the anchor. This was a beautiful setting underneath the Connemara mountains which, that evening were for our benefit clear of clouds, standing stark and bare before us, and the sun had shone all day and the evening light was wonderful and so all at peace.

By morning the mountains had gone all coy, robe-ing themselves in cloud. Weighing anchor we hoisted the main with no reefs for a change and the no 3 and resumed our beating out along the inner passage. Later with the wind dropping we changed to the no 2 and then the no1 and a bit later handed the sails and on with the engine. Of Sylne Head the wind returned, we re-hoisted the no 1, rounded the head and set course for High Island Sound. At this point, the mate, who had been feeling peaky retired to his bunk for the rest of the day.

No stirring from the mate in his bunk in the morning when I arose 'a bon heure' so I weighed anchor and after motoring out from the harbour, set sail to pass south and eastwards of the Lecky rocks. Soon the wind dropped and the motor was resorted to and I ended up motoring for over 6 hours, now with our little donkey that is no fun at all.

I roasted all out there on the flat and glassy sea, even hot enough to take of the shirt for a while. I had a short interlude when a breath of wind returned ghosting along under full sail, and I saw a tall ship go sailing by looking pretty as a picture. Still the seas were quiet around Achill Head so that was one blessing. As evening approached I turned into and anchored in the delightfully named Black Sod Bay.