The wild man of Dún Laoghaire

Five minutes out of Granton we got hit with our first squall. Luckily I had two reefs in. Then it really set in,  gusting 25mph+ combined with increasing amounts of water from up above. Visibility gone. I don’t want to be a party poop said the SK grimly hanging on, but do we have plan B? I think we should plough on for it another 5-10 minutes and see if it passes, sez I. And lo, pass it did. And by the time we tied up in Aberdour it was like a different day. And while I chatted to their harbour master who had taken our lines, Mr Eye was out his clothes into his natty swimwear, up the ladder and diving into the harbour just like he’d never left home. 
And then there were cups of tea and cakes aplenty. His advice to Edinburgh swimmers? Swim on the Fife side (he’d walked to Portobello in the morning and cased it). Home on a good beam reach, shaking out both the reefs as we went - he’s a quick learner on that tiller, I must say.
Later, after the departure of the man from Dublin, and struggling to revive ourselves, we met up with L&P at P’tite Folie for some rather decent scran. 
Home and asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.