Hooker Racing

On the Sunday (19th Aug) we return to Kinvarra for another try to see Hooker racing, but this time we are more familiar with the race programme's talk of 5pm starts and 6pm high tides and we don't even set out for Kinvarra till 2.30pm - it's an hour and a half drive. This gives us plenty of time in the morning to garden and do some logging plus Mum, who has now had a phone call from Steak Lady saying she and Mr SL will be visiting on Monday, to have a bit of a tidy up round the house.

Heavy rain on the way down frightens us into thinking we'll not see any racing without getting very wet, but this clears as we arrive at Kinvarra and stays away long enough for us to have a brilliant time and get plenty of pictures. We have time to park up, stroll round the harbour looking at the 'trade stands', buy an ice cream and watch some race preparation. In hooker racing this takes the form of loading coal sacks with rocks filched from the beach and placing them low in the boat as ballast. These rocks can then be jettisoned during the race if they have done with 'beating to windward' and are 'running' home downwind. They are only needed to help keep the boat upright battling into the wind.

Before the race starts we move back out to our Parkmore Pier viewpoint where we get talking to some locals (including some ex-pats who prove to be an RAF armourer called Fergus and his Thames-born, Essex Girl lady who 'knows about' Thames barges and has heard of Cambria. The racing, as predicted, passes close to us and the sun shines on the ochre-red sails and Dad is able to get some beautiful pictures, a million of which we will not bore you with here. The racing is close and exciting and we see one close shave where the bow sprit of a boat nearly entangles with the back of the leading boat.

I have a lovely time racing about the pier meeting dogs, race-watchers and anglers all of whom seem to want to make a fuss of me and Mum and Dad swear I am remembering narrow boat holidays and all the fun jumping on and off boats. At one stage a fishing trip-boat pulls in to the pier to land its party of sport fishermen. It is skippered by a superb beardy character who then nips up the pier and jumps in his rowboat which is tied to the pier and loaded with his old bicycle. He rows the rowboat back to where his fishing boat is and loads the bike on board, tying the rowboat to his fishing boat so that he can tow it away. The 'Essex Girl' approaches him and asks to buy some mackerel which he has in a crate on deck, left over from the trip. He is selling them for 4 for €2 which is too much for Mum and Dad to resist so we buy 4 and that's supper sorted.

The run home, with Mum driving is notable for its 'Biblical' rain with massive puddles and flooding and aqua-planing opportunities. At one point Mum is doing 33 mph with the wipers going double-speed and she is still a bit worried. Probably the wettest drive either of them can recall. Back home we find the middle gate closed and cattle foot prints all over the place. There has obviously been another escape in our absence and we are doubly determined to quickly buy an entrance gate. Luckily only the 'hay stack' is knocked about and no damage has been done to veg, the rabbit run or any other important stuff that wont repair easily. The beasts can stay on the tarmac outside next time, and not mess up our grass.