Buffoons on Bofin

The remainder of our time on the island was a peculiar mix of frustration and enjoyment.  Frustration at being stormbound and enjoyment of the fine scenery and even finer people we met. The second full day was grey and wet.  No finer weather to visit Murray's Hotel for cards by the fire.  This proved a rewarding decision. Drink, food and cards were all to our liking and our hosts proved just as welcoming as the had been on our first day.  As the place filled we were introduced to many regular, and not so regular, customers.  Foremost was Fionan, a nephew of Andrews, who'd studied at Ringaskiddy as a marine engineer. He waxed nautical with us for a bit and agreed to cast his eye over our dodgy stern gland next day, when he got a break from the Island Ferry.  This he surly did and confirmed we were 'unlikely' to sink before we reached Killybegs where it should be easily sorted. He showed us his own boat and the new curragh which all his nephews and nieces had clubbed in to buy Andrew for his birthday. A fine vessel.
Fionan was especially amused by our outboard which he had spotted from the ferry ...perhaps best not to repeat his observations.
The remainder of our stay was a mixture of coaxing local fishermen to sell us some crab claws

. .. continued outrageous outboard occurrences and moving to a mooring kindly offered to us.
Our final day saw 'incredible' developments.  Mark, who has the patience and perseverance of a patient and persevering person managed to get the offending outboard purring like a kitten.  He and Siobhan headed off to explore a local ruin while the skipper had another of his strip washes, hoping the ferry might pass.  Later that trusty outboard took himself and Mark to the Island shop for rations...but alas they forgot the kitty...a return jaunt to the boat saw said rations purchased for all three crew to luxuriate on deck with...despite Siobhans protestations that her shipmates have the brains of plankton and are never to be trusted with shopping again.  Wednesday morning was to see us up at the crack of dawn for the run to Broadhaven....and so to sleep per chance to dream.