31st July 2013 - Rosmoney Clew Bay to Fenit

8.10 am the minibus taxi picks me up. Its already carrying about 5 or 6 crews and the banter is good. I have hobbled into the shower and taken Ibuprofen, grabbed a sandwich from the B and B breakfast room, and feel a little less like chattering. My back doesnt feel good, and I am wondering how much of a pounding it will take today. 
The skippers breifing is held in the Sailing club, the boats will have to make for Westport first to refuel from the tanker on the quayside. I go and see the guys driving the Suzuki truck (its the only corporate presence on the Challenge and is at every stop) as I will be needing 2 stroke oil for the outboard. She goes through approx 4 litres per 160 litres of fuel. The Fuel and 2 stroke is auto mixed, just have to keep an eye on the oil tank level.
The boys in the truck are super helpful and hook me up with their local dealer who will meet me at the quay in Westport with 12 litres of oil.
Its raining ! for a change ! and the boats speed round to Westport. 
I sneak along the quay wall and into position for fuel, the hose is lowered down and I brim the tanks. The boat smells of fuel more strongly than normal but figure some must have been spilt when refuelling from the cans yesterday.

The fuelling tanker from the Donegal Fuel Company that covered every fuel stop
apart from Dun Laogaire, Bangor and Kilmore Quay

Once fuelled I steer Merlin out through the archipeligo of islands and into clew bay. 
Weather conditions so far are not bad and we can keep up a decent speed.
Then only about 2 miles into the Bay I pick up a lobster pot. 
I had seen the buoy and given it a wide enough 25 yard berth, but the pots here seem to have a lot of floating line and it snags around the outboard leg. I immediately drop the engine into neutral and switch off, and am very fortunate as I stop the prop before the rope gets to it.
I call up Top Hat on the VHF and the flotilla comes to a halt, one of the other boats heads over to help but before he gets there, I am able to untangle the line from the leg and it falls clear. Carefully I start the engine, and everything seems fine. 
We decide to head to Inishbofin Island, at the briefing it was thought worth going to see. 
Its a lonely looking place, with an old fort guarding the harbour that goes back to Cromwell's time. Interestingly enough there are no trees on the island, although there had been previously. Once cut down it was found trees were unable to re-establish themselves. What Inishbofin does have is rain, and some very friendly inhabitants who have come down to the harbour to greet the small boats that have moored themselves against the jetty. We spend a very short 5 minutes looking around and chatting to the locals. They are very interested in the Ribs and quite knowledgeable about them.

Top Hat the safety boat with the impressive SeaWolf rafted alongside

Leaving Inishbofin, we turn south and head for Slyne Head. The weather worsens and more and more I am driving for a soft landing, backing off on the crests more than I normally would, and just letting Merlin's bow fall over the top before powering on across the confused sea behind before letting off for the next crest. Where the crest's are close together, then progress becomes slow. 

Merlin catches some air

The initial plan had been to use the islands - running inside of them - for cover, but the wind is now blowing S / SW and heaping up big confused seas, added to the heavy rain and spray, visibility is very poor at times. Inevitably I get caught out in this watery blindness by two crests and take another bad landing. I feel winded and my back is screaming at me to stop. 

All looking grey - sea and sky

I raise Searider on the VHF and ask Stu to transfer over to Merlin again, there is quite the swell running but that transfer is easy. I radio Paul in Top Hat and ask to come across. It will involve a transfer under way, and the rails on Top Hat are a formidable obstacle, but I know that I cant go on taking the thumps on my boat. Stu gets Merlin alongside Top Hat and I have three attempts at getting onto the larger boat before finally getting through the rails. Its absolute agony, as my back contorts with the effort, and I end up laying on the exposed back deck of Top Hat for a few minutes to recover. 
Paul Glaetzal, the skipper of Top Hat talks to me about an extraction, but a second winch up in a week doesnt appeal at all. I settle in the cabin astride another fender to soften the impacts. Top Hat is a different environment to Freya to say the least. Paul's family is aboard, and his dog. They all look very concerned, and I reason to myself that any Lifeboat extraction won't be any more comfortable than this, so I resolve to just tough it out.  Paul drives Top Hat extremely sympathetically, and tries to minimise the hits - a tough job given the unpredictable swells and crests. The whole flotilla of small boats plug on southwards, over 50 miles to run, at speeds between 8 and 12 knots.
I hold on tight to the table in the cabin, take another Ibuprofen. I am fairly sure I have done something serious to my back, the pain on getting aboard was intense. Sitting on the fender helps a lot, and Paul's family are very engaging which takes my mind off things. The flotilla plugs on, and is heading directly for Loop head. It seems to take forever, and the light is starting to go, beyond Loop head, yet another headland at Kerry Head, and Paul cajoles the small boats along over the VHF. I wonder if Stu can actually hear him as the VHF on Merlin has been waterlogged for the last few days, and I have been using my replacement handheld for communication.
Eventually, Paul leads in the small boats to Fenit as its totally dark now. Just a couple of miles with him leading, and everyone exhausted, trying to maintain contact, driving in line astern. A new voice comes over the VHF from Fenit harbour giving berthing directions. I have stayed in the same position on Top Hat, hands locked around the table for the last 6 hours. As we pull up to the pontoon, Paul talks with the off duty lifeboatmen who are helping with berthing. An ambulance is called and with Top Hat tied up I stay perched on the fender in the cabin until it gets there. 
Its midnight, its raining, and I am heading off to Tralee Hospital A and E breathing Entenox! Not sure if I will be coming back to the challenge at all. On the way there, I answer all the questions being fired at me and supply them with a potted history of the last few days including my ejection and rescue from St Georges Channel. The paramedic is probably marking me down as patient at high risk of harming himself ! 
Its relatively quiet in the hospital and I am wheeled into a bay and gingerly transferred to the bed from the trolley. I spy scissors and stop the nurses from cutting into my very lovely and dear to me dry suit. With some help I get it unzipped, over my head, my arms out and shrug it down, saving it to fight another day !
After an initial examination, I am taken for some x-rays of shoulder, neck and spine.
I realise I am starving, and have eaten nothing for the last 14 hours. Duly, a chicken sandwich arrives, and a glass of water. The news is that the neck/collar bone suffered no 
injury discernable on the x ray during the ejection and the spine just shows a slight compression and they stressed the slight part, on L3. After a painkilling jab and some muscle relaxant I doze a little but its 6.30 am and before long they come round with breakfast and the cheery news that I should stay off boats for the next month while my back heals. Any decision as to whether I can continue has just been made for me.