Celtic Mist Survey Cruise Leg 12: Bantry-Bantry
Skipper: Paul O’Neill
First Mate: Mick O’Rourke
Marine Biologist: Patrick Kinnaird
Marine Biologist: Tom Rathigan
Crew: Geraldine O’Rourke, Laura Foster, Edel McMahon, Helena Malone
Day 1
Our first afternoon aboard the Celtic Mist was a gentle one, the kind of slow start that lets you ease into life onboard a sailing vessel. The crew trickled aboard with their bags and we began getting to know each other with the eager curiosity of people about to spend a week in close quarters. Finding your bunk is a bit like a treasure hunt: a little climbing, a bit of bending, and the satisfying feeling of claiming your tiny patch of floating real estate.
Once bags were stowed (some neatly folded a way, others more fond of ‘living out the bag’), we gathered for our first safety briefing. It covered all the domestic essentials of boat life, where things are, how to move around safely, and the essential knowledge of how to use the heads/toilets/jacks.
With that done, it was time for our first shop of the week. Since we had no shore power and tomorrow’s sailing plans were scuppered by the weather, it was just a quick essentials run. Dinner that night was a perfect first meal to start the trip: a steaming pot of tomato pasta eaten around the table to the gentle motion of the boat reminding the crew what they had signed up for.
Day 2
Bantry Bay was our chosen survey spot for the day. The morning saw us motor past the sheltered waters of Glengarriff and the rugged outline of Whiddy Island, the air fresh but carrying the first whispers of the incoming bad weather. After our greatest efforts we were rewarded with our first common dolphins of the trip.
By early afternoon we decided to head back and secure ourselves before the weather turned. But before retreating fully, a few of us braved the water for a dip off the pier. There’s nothing like a plunge into cold saltwater to make you feel gloriously alive — and slightly breathless. Dinner was courtesy of our first mate: a chicken madras that, thankfully, had just enough heat to warm the belly without challenging anyone’s spice tolerance.
Day 3
With the wind and rain coming in hard from the north, the Celtic Mist stayed snug in harbour. But being tied up doesn’t mean sitting still, not when you’ve got a whole peninsula to explore.
The crew split into mini-adventures: some headed for preemptive well-earned massages, others wandered through the streets of Schull, and a group of us tackled the walk out to Sheep’s Head Lighthouse. The path wound along the peninsula with sweeping sea views on one side and rolling green on the other, ending at the lighthouse. On the way back, we stumbled upon a lake and couldn’t resist a spontaneous swim/wash.
We ended up at the Blue Heron Café, where the day’s adventures ended over a slice of cheesecake that deserves its own fan club. A final stroll through the public garden and then back aboard for a vegan chickpea satay, eaten while rain pattered above and the wind howled outside.
With the excitement and anticipation of setting off on our first day bubbling up in the form of a restless first sleep, we found ourselves assembled at 6 am, wearing sleepy smiles and full rain gear, only to receive bad news. An update to the forecast in the early hours had declared a small craft warning for our section of the coastline. We were staying put. There was only one thing to do. Boil the kettle. With an extra day to explore Arklow, we used the time to pick up some extra essentials for the boat, go for walks or sea swims, watch the men’s senior hurling final, and cook up our first dinner together. As strange luck would have it, our extra night’s stay resulted in us getting to enjoy the fireworks display for the Seabreeze Festival happening in the town, which was a welcome treat before the forecasted heavy rain swept in.
Day 4
The storm had blown through, leaving us with clearer skies and an itch to sail again. The run to Castletownbere was exactly what we’d been craving, the boat leaning into the wind, the coastline sliding past, and a pod of common dolphins to keep our optimism for the week high.
Once tied up, the skipper served up a hearty spag bol that refuelled us perfectly for the evening ahead. We stepped ashore just in time for the ‘Festival of the Sea’ celebrations. The main event? The Pint Drinking Wheelbarrow Race, a spectacle that was exactly as chaotic and brilliant as it sounds. We didn’t enter (our dignity and balance thanked us), but we laughed away whilst cheering on the contestants.
Day 5
We set out early with a big day ahead: Dursey Island, then the Calf, the Cow, and the Bull. Not far from Castletownbere, the water erupted in a display from a particularly charismatic dolphin. Instead of the usual graceful arcs, this one launched straight up, vertical, as though it was auditioning for a part in “Walking on Water: The Musical.”
The coastline was dotted with surprises, the serene and slightly surreal Dzogchen Beara Buddhist temple, standing watch over the sea, and the stark silhouette of Black Bull Head Watch Tower. But nothing prepared us for Bull Rock Lighthouse. The rock itself looked like it had been dropped from another world, and above it wheeled thousands of gannets, an estimated 9,400 of them (lost count ourselves).
We tried for Bere Island but the wind had other plans, so back to Castletownbere we went. Dinner was a fresh fish feast from the first mate, followed by an early night to rest after such a spectacular day.
Day 6
The plan was to head past Sheep’s Head Lighthouse and across Dunmanus Bay, but the moment we cleared the harbour, the swell told us this was going to be a “hold onto your mugs” kind of day. We hoisted the mainsail to steady things, but the motion still rolled deep through the hull. Not exactly ideal for spotting wildlife or for those with wobbly sea legs.
We did spy some distant dolphins before tucking back into the calmer waters of Bantry Bay, where we spent the afternoon. Sadly no sightings despite our keen efforts but as they say, no data is still data. Back ashore, Castletownbere seemed unusually lively, with people darting around in search of something. The mystery was solved later: they were hunting for a can of orange paint for the ‘Family Treasure Hunt.’ We closed out the day with lentil korma, a few final pints at the pub, and the realisation that tomorrow was our final full day.
Day 7
Morning brought calm seas and the luxury of shore power, meaning the rare joy of vacuuming a boat and more importantly an electric kettle and toaster. With the Celtic Mist tidy, we finally made for Bear Island, the destination that had teased us all week.
We anchored in a sunlit bay so clear you could see the anchor chain stretching down into the depths. The dinghy took us ashore for coffee, pastries, and a meander through the village. It felt like the perfect exhale after days of chasing weather windows.
Back aboard, we took one last swim, laughing as we scrambled up the swim ladder (harder than it looks, especially after a week of sea life). Then came a short sail back to Bantry, where it had all began. One by one, bags were packed and goodbyes were exchanged.
The week had been a mix of wild weather and perfect moments: dolphins dancing, gannets diving, the hum of the boat under sail, and new friendships forged over shared meals. The Celtic Mist had carried us through it all. All in all, we all left a little saltier, a little windblown, and a lot happier.
Paddy Kinnaird – Marine Biologist, Celtic Mist