We spent Sunday night in Mountshannon. It was full-body thermal weather with a strong westerly coming straight into the harbour, but the sun glinted off the water and made everything look pretty. When we got back to the boat after a few pints the heating wouldn't work. In fact the lights barely came on. The domestic battery was flat. Odd. It had had a full charge the weekend before.
Next morning it turned out it was my fault. When you light the gas fridge you turn on a switch that goes clickety click and provides a spark for the gas. You're supposed to turn this switch off IMMEDIATELY. As you have guessed I left it on. This tends to happen once at the beginning of a summer's boating, which acts as a reminder for the rest of the year. It's always best when it's someone else who leaves the switch on.
Down to Killaloe on Monday. The lake was flat calm and beautiful. We went through the bridge and back up the old canal to tie up opposite St Flannan's Cathedral. A peaceful spot away from the jet skis and speed boats that like to whizz up and down in front of an audience. I thought on Monday we'd be free of the nyah nyah racket of the jet skis but no such luck.
I was in the Gents in Goosers pub across the bridge from the boat looking at a chart on the wall. I'd gone in there on instruction from the husband - urinals aren't usually my thing - because he hadn't seen this chart before, and neither had I. It was a proper Admiralty chart of Scarriff Bay showing all the rocks and shoals and depths - far more detail than you get on the Lough Derg chart. Along towards Scarriff there was marked Dead Woman's Hand Rock. The only way you'd see it now, I suspect, is if you put on a diving suit - the lake has risen so much since it was damned for the Shannon Hydroelectric Scheme. I wonder what shape that rock is.
And back to Scarriff today. There's electricity, and it's close to home, so Joe can go down tomorrow with his sander and do sanding things.