7th September – departing Howth; Dublin Bay – Milford Haven – Falmouth
Leaving the Republic of Ireland in a blaze of glory.
After some R&R at Howth, we got ready for Rick and Lucy flying in from Dartmouth at about 0015 Monday morning. Immediately after a safety briefing we slipped lines and sailed out on the tide at about 0230. The winds were hardly in our favour, mostly southerly, so we made big tacks (Milford Haven and across again) hoping to be clear of Lands End early Tuesday as the High comes in bringing westerly, light breezes. The plan was to be in Dartmouth on Tuesday night.
One of the dolphins guiding us through the vortex.
That wasn’t to be! Late the following night – we found that our progress had seemed promising but the triangle of tidal streams SW of Pembroke made a vortex which defied anyone making progress into a southerly wind. In the dead of night, surrounded by dolphins, we came close to Lundy Island then made a deep westerly tack and 16 hours later we saw … Lundy Island again. The wind was rising to F7-8 and we decided to drop the Yankee and soon afterwards in a steady blast of severe gale (F9) the staysail blew out with the top panels shredded. So down that came and up went the dayglow orange storm jib and we headed north for six hours to Milford Haven to rest until the wind passed by.
The dolphins rode with us most of the way, jumping up occasionally to look in and see we were all ok. I took some video clips of them and when I played them back you can quite clearly hear them chattering to each other … and to us. look at the right hand side of this page, under Flickr and click on the third picture – the blue one of a dolphin – it is a fifteen second film clip. Enjoy it!
I don’t have any pictures of Milford Haven - I remember soft grey welsh rain and the pub was very dark until a seventh person found their way into the bar and the landlord decided she could turn the lights on. That was kind of tough, because I was playing darts with Geoff and had just thrown three darts into the corner of the room … “it’s over there, looksee” … and now Geoff was having his turn with a spotlight revealing exactly where the dartboard was (plus lots of darts sticking around the place). But the beer was good, it was reasonably dry and we got refreshed for the next day.
A dolphin family outing, gently by the boat.
I proposed leaving Milford Haven at 0700 Wednesday. The only way we could break out of the vortex with the southerly wind was to leave much earlier than seemed necessary, stem the tide to start with and make every bit of speed we could to exit the triangle of tidal, no-go vortex by over-reaching its influence and picking up the North Cornwall Westerly stream to take us round Lands End. We flew the light air Genoa and made very good progress. And we met more dolphins, including a new wee baby dolphin in a family outing! They would hear us and come charging from a distance to come and play in the boat’s wave system, taking free rides in the bow wave.
Wednesday night saw us nearing Lands End quite swiftly, passing the large restricted area of the new experimental Wave Hub which is some fifteen miles off the north Cornwall coast. This will provide a large “three pin plug socket” for wave powered electricity generating devices to make power for the national grid and prove their suitability for wider deployment around the world.
I finished my watch at 0330 and when I came back on at 0730 I saw that we were punching our way into a strong Easterly wind and seeming to make very little progress. The Lizard was still very much in view behind us and we could see Falmouth Eastward in the distance. By mid morning a Gale warning came into force and the engine stopped with a choked fuel filter – I presume that the tossing around of the last few days in the Celtic Sea had raised two years worth of sludge from the bottom of the tanks, from when Bold Explorer had spent two years on land at Poole, before being purchased by Geoff in July. Luckily we had Rick on board, who is also an electro-mechanical engineer, and he immediately got to work as I sailed the boat into Falmouth. We left the boat there on Thursday evening and Geoff picked her up on Saturday to arrive back in Dartmouth at 0300 on Sunday morning. Jackie had ferry glided her under power against the tide into a perfect berth, and as Geoff secured the second line to shore, the engine stopped again. Bold Ex had loyally kept going for as long as was needed before taking a much earned rest. And we all went home.
Home and - ready for a bath
I woke up this morning in the dark, stirring sleepily and found the lee-cloth had fallen down, but I wasn’t ready to get up and didn’t want to fall out, so I worked my way uphill to the windward side of my bunk and found in the pitch black dark, some hand sized shapes, of arm sized curves and warmth rolling over to me and a windy, wet voice whispering in my shell-like “I’m going to shave that scrobbly beard off tomorrow.”
In all my forty days and forty nights at sea on Bold Explorer, I had never come across anything like it.
31st August – 4th September, Fort William – Loch Aline – Croabh Haven – Gigha Island – Bangor – Howth
Leaving Loch Linnie from Fort William
Hi bloggers – we’re sailing again! A lot to catch up on this time. Jackie got on board at 0800 with Geoff on Monday and we immediately set sail for Jura. As we dropped in to Dunstaffanage for fuel we also checked the weather forecast and tides – they were no longer favourable so we diverted to Loch Aline which was a resonable sail as the weather closed down with squalls. To keep us fit we did three drills for man overboard, which was a good exercise under sail in the wind and squally showers that we had.
The anchorage at Loch Aline
The anchorage was heading towards dark when we arrived, but we managed to pick up a buoy as the moon came up; and that was after we managed to pick up another fishing boat. They had a diver on board who had been harvesting scallops – we bought 40 for £10! and they were fresh and made a delicious meal.
The silvery moon on the water of Loch Aline
As people went to bed, I cleared the meal and washed up the cluttery, before going on deck and saw the most peaceful scene in pitch black – if you can imagine that. My camera could not quite pick it all out, but the moon was as alluring as ever. The whole scene was crossing magical boundaries and gazing down to the reflections on the water you felt you could dive for light years to find the true reflections of the stars. Up above the clouds paraded slowly across the moon. The night was silent, time had stopped and the moon was still.
Leaving Duart Castle on the Sound of Mull
The next day we picked up our plans again to go to Jura and left the Sound of Mull to go into the Firth of Lorn. Despite the encouraging weather forecast, it deteriorated rapidly with F7 squalls and one crew member got rather sea sick, so judiciously we diverted to Crinan which meant going through the Sound of Luing. This is a milder version of the Gulf of Corryvreckan (check it out on Google – “awesome!”), yet with wind and tide against us we were only making 2-3 knots and to do so we had to increase engine rpm – everything was fine and dandy. I was helming happily, keeping an eye on transits etc, then Geoff poked his head up from the companionway and said very calmly that he had called the coastguard because we might have an engine fire. He had poured some water from the kettle onto the smoking casing around the back of the engine compartment which was smoking – there was burning wood, but the engine was running well. He spoke again with Clyde Coastguard and the Oban lifeboat was launched.
Geoff showed his metal with the regular sequence of precautions he then set in motion. Engine rpm was taken to a minimum to maintain steerage way. Everything was set up for abandoning the yacht (a very last resort!), and he ensured that everyone knew what they had to do, so there would be no confusion or panic. All gas was isolated, fire extinguishers set up, valuables in the grab bag. The confined waters of the Sound of Luing is not the best place to have this sort of difficulty. Geoff and I set up a towing bridle and we ferry glided the boat in the tidal race to maintain station in mid channel as we slowly went backwards heading between the two lighthouses.
The Oban lifeboat very swift and capable with a stunning crew.
Then the lifeboat came along with a crew that oozed confidence and professionalism. Aistair, the Deputy Coxwain came on board and checked out the situation and the Coxwain on the lifeboat decided to tow us to Croabh Haven. They tied the hawser to the bridle and off we went with Alistair remaining on board. We got out of the tide race in the Gulf of Luing and as we turned up the Firth of Lorne the bridal failed on the port side – I had put a locking turn on the port bow cleat which then failed to transmit the considerable towing forces through the rope to the other two cleats along the length of our boat – lesson learned! We repaired the bridle and tow then we were off again.
Picking up speed again with the new tow line - photo Alistair.
This time the length of tow was slightly shorter and we were riding on a different part of the transverse wave system of the lifeboat. I was still on the helm and found that we were slightly surfing and I had to be careful that we did not start yawing and sliding off sideways from being directly in line behind the lifeboat – we only once started to slew sideways, but the Coxwains was very much aware of this and slowed down until we were back in line. In a very short while we were berthed alongside in Croabh Marina and we paid a very grateful thank you to the crew of the lifeboat.
We looked into the cause of the smoke after the engine had cooled down and found burnt wood still glowing within the box casing of the exhaust piping as it left the engine compartment heading for its route to the stern. The lagging on the exhaust had suffered paint or glue dripping on to it which had ignited and the flame had tracked along the inside and reached the steps into the after cabin. This was a fault inherited with the boat which had only been purchased seven weeks previously. Geoff had certainly made the right call to Clyde coastguard. If we had waited until we were sure we had a real fire then it would have been too late! A Marine & Coastguard Agency surveyor visited us late that night and corroborated our view of the situation and we hoped to sort it out the next day, Wednesday, 2nd September.
This blog gives a short account which gives insufficient justice for the professionalism of the RNLI and also to Geoff and the way he handled the situation. Also note that this account does not give sufficient detail to allow a full view of the situation to be considered, but I can say that we were all glad we had Geoff running the show and, funnily enough, we all felt very safe throughout the ordeal. We all knew how the boat was equipped and how to use the liferaft and each of us had something to do which kept us occupied rather than worried, because Geoff manages people very well and he knew the drills we might have to go through – if you’re reading this, Geoff, that’s a compliment!
The Doris Mor on a calm day.
On Wednesday, we recovered the situation and cleaned up the exhaust line and removed the casing so as to ensure we would be able to monitor it. Once Geoff had completed some extensive work for the procedural administration in the wake of a lifeboat call-out and surveyor’s inspection, we set off again in the direction south, but instead of going for Jura, we decided on the smaller, adjacent island of Gigha. We had westerly winds F2-3 and sailed through the Doris Mor with its whirlpools and strong tide, whilst we kept a close eye on transits to ensure we weren’t being swept towards the Gulf of Corryvreckan (please check it out on Google – it really has a story to tell!).
A bigge basking shark - can you see its mouth under its nose, left?
Along the way we saw another, bigger basking shark! (this one is for you Ben!). As we tacked south into the Sound of Jura against the tide, we cautiously turned on the engine and eventually arrived at Ardmirgh Bay on Gigha 9.5 hours after leaving Croabh. After everyone went to bed I knocked up a passage plan, went to bed at 0030 for three hours sleep and then got things going so that we could leave at 0400 to catch the tide for Ireland.
Early morning, passing the Mull of Kintyre
Thursday gave us much better winds, rising to a steady F5, south westerly, which meant we had a broad reach and the favourable tides had us cracking along. Geoff won the bet for when we would pass the lighthouse on the Mull of Kintyre and we sailed briskly across the North Channel to Bangor in Belfast Lough with an average speed of over 8 knots for the passage.
Black Head lighthouse welcoming us to Bangor in Belfast Lough
Jackie excelled herself helming in a moderate sea with a swell passing through, yet she left a wake as straight as a die. The logbook entry for 0700 notes that after a violent knocking was heard from the bows of the boat, Duncan was found to have been locked in the forward heads … locked from the outside! The sea is full of mysteries!
Dawn over Belfast Lough
Friday 0600 we left for the 100 miles to Dublin Bay. This was a trip to relish. We had a better wind forecast, westerly, F5-7. Duncan was skipper for the day and was quite brisk with his navigation plans, having been deprived of the opportunity to prepare the night before, because of other pressing engagements in Belfast. In fact he tumbled into bed at about 0245 and was up at 0530! Geoff helped get us on course and by 0900 I noticed the barometer had fallen by 5 millibars in less than two hours; we put in a couple of reefs and carried on as the wind picked up with some solid showery squalls coming in at Force 7-8, which gave us a terrific ride; lots of salty foam, wind in your hair and buckets of water bouncing over us: it was very refreshing.
On the way to Dublin Bay with North Westerly Force 5
At times we had clear skies with the breeze coming aff the land, so the waves were not too bad and you could see the clouds getting ready for any squally rain they wanted to unload, and the sailing was a roller coaster. As we approached Howth we settled down after all the excitement, as the wind quietened in the lee of the coast and we got ready to arrive after several days with not a lot of sleep.
Approaching the Ben of Howth, near Dublin Bay
Our port of Howth and a fine resort for Dubliners
The view of Howth from our cockpit.The moon over Howth
And here’s another moonshot.
- Another – moonshot
As you can probably guess from this blog, I can confirm that the sea really is the last refuge of the incurable romantic!
25th-30th August, Inverness – Caledonian Canal – Fort William
Invergordon Castle - Loch Ness
Here we are in Fort William having a crew change over a couple of days and, frankly, recovering from some extreme sports and hiking our socks off around Ben Nevis. We had arrived in Inverness after an 18 hour sail from Orkney and so on Tuesday 26th, after a day wandering around Inverness we got through the first few locks of the Caledonian Canal and bedded down for the night. Wednesday saw us quickly getting through Loch Ness and into the next set of locks at Fort Augustus. [Note, the forts are named as such because they were garrisons established at various stages by Romans, English and then the British as different regimes of occupation, suppression and trading took place over the past two thousand years. They were usually named after the Big Daddy of the day, such as Augustus who was an Italian living in Rome and William who was an orange Dutchman who had recently arrived in England. The Scots are justly proud of having such a cosmopolitan association and so they retain the names Fort Augustus and Fort William].
The workboat coming free of the lock
Having arrived at the first lock in Fort Augustus we heard that a large workboat had broken down in one of the locks and a swing bridge was being repaired. Using his initiative, Geoff promptly phoned his son, Chris (a world class, white water, kayaking supremo) to pick us up and take us to a grade 2/3 set of rapids for some white water rafting. He arrived in his landrover just twenty minutes later to take us to the oudoor activity centre on the River Gary which fed into Loch Oich. Chris stuffed us into wet suits and topped us off with hard hats then took us to the rapids. The 1 kilometre stretch of river they use is just below a hydro electric dam which occasionally dumps a large quantity of water into the river through a tunnel large enough for regular road traffic to go through. Chris got us all into an eight man raft and told us not to think but only do what he tells us – quickly – then we set off and had a whole heap of fun with a bit of rapid chaos in the rapids.
Background – Geoff has previously been in the GB kayaking team and his son is fulltime into this sport. More importantly Chris was looking forward to giving Geoff a dunking to pay back for all the “upbringing ” he suffered in cold water sport when he was a kid. And Geoff was going to give as good as he got – better still he was going to get his revenge in first! The result was tremendous fun, and the score was Chris went in twice, Geoff twice, also Jenny and Rob, who had the best “down time” achieved this year – he was under our raft and in the broiling water for a very long time and came out still alive and kicking which is not bad for a spirited 67 year old. So, it being so wet and heading towards twilight, we have no photographs to show. We even had a second trip down because we all thought it was so awesome.
The next day we got through Loch Oich and to the top of the final staircase of 9 locks before getting out at Fort William and had a fine supper of Haggis, before going across to the yacht Shimla II to have a drink or two - thanks Simon. It turned out that Geoff and Simon had friends in common in the world of high latitude sailing, so they talked a bit about Geoff’s trip being planned next year for the Arctic. Simon’s background includes involvement with Medex which helps to run the medical services for the base camp at Mount Everest.
The final staircase of lochs to Fort William, and the train to Mallaig that inspired JK Rowling's train to Hogwarts in the Harry Potter novels.
On Friday 28th August we finally got to Fort William and tied up here. Jenny and I walked for five hours up into Glen Nevis and reached the Deer Dail top which gave us a magnificent view of the surrounding hills, but always with Ben Nevis capped by cloud.
A rainbow on the side of Ben Nevis
The following day, we went again, but to a walk starting at the southern end of the valley, which meant we were walking a twelve mile round trip before we got to the walk itself and it was at this point that I realised I had been on this boat for a month and not had any walking whatsoever! But we did do that amazing bicycle ride in Stromness, Orkney – so the legs cannot have withered and wasted entirely.
Paula and Rob left the boat on Saturday (with my waterproof trousers – grrr!) and Jenny left today, Sunday 30th August. Duncan and I cleaned out the boat, sorted out some preparations for sailing tomorrow and further passages towards Ireland and we now await Jackie to join us at 0730 tomorrow morning. The rest of this blog will be much more interesting – six days in the canal is too much for any sailor to bear!
20th-24th August, Lochinver to Kinlochbervie, Stromness, Inverness
Kinlochbervie - a rocky fishing outpost
We arrived at Kinlochbervie which is the habitation farthest north west in the UK mainland. The next day we had a “clean, make and mend” day as Gale F9 swept through. To pass the time, we also played pool in the pub and picked apples, pears and blackberries for a great fruit stew to keep us regular! I prepared the navigation plan for the trip to take us around Cape Wrath and across the top of Scotland, heading for Stromness in the Orkneys.
We waited until the last moment for a forecast to clear us for the 14 hour trip and had a very calm passage around Cape Wrath – a running fix put us 2 miles off this North West tip of mainland UK. After some extraordinary currents which defied the tidal stream atlas (we are close to the equinox) we ended up motoring the last twenty miles to ensure we didn’t get swept down the Pentland Firth and we arrived at Stromness on the mainland of Orkney at 2100. At this point the fresh water supply failed and Geoff dived under the floor boards to investigate. The calorifier was not happy and steam gushed up from the bilges so Geoff was able to quickly find the source of the problem: a hot, high pressure water hose had blown off.
Cape Wrath on a calm day!
Ken & Leyton on their Orkney Yole
The next morning we met Ken and Leyton who had a classic 18 foot, Orkney Yole and Geoff persuaded them to invite us out for a sail. It was fantastic – such a graceful little beauty – and Ken and I had quick chats about the boatbuilding business – he served his time at McGruer’s in the Holy Loch and now, in Stromness he has built over 6 of these attractive little craft and next year will take one down the final stage of his journey on the Thames to finish in London.
An early house in Stromness
Stromness high street
In the afternoon Geoff and I visited the Stromness Museum to find it has a significant history. Scapa Floe has hosted various combative navies over the centuries – Spanish, French and of course the British. And at the end of the First World War the German navy surrendered and was assembled there. Many of the warships were scuttled and remain there today. Stromness has also carried a large herring fleet which employed thousands of people both on the fishing vessels and on the quayside, to export the majority of the fish to Russia. Most important of all was the strong association that Stromness had with the Hudson Bay Company which helped to open up the new Canadian colony. Many Orcadians ended up employed in Canada with the HBC and the famous Dr Ernest Rae conducted five expeditions to explore and map the coast of Canada. He also discovered the final stage to open up the elusive North West Passage and, in doing so, he discovered the fate of the earlier Franklin Expedition. Queen Victoria awarded Rae the Arctic Medal for his exploits and helped bring Stromness into further prominence.
Rob just back from the Ceilidh
That night we went to a beer festival and Ceilidh where we had lively local music and dancing. At various stages we arrived back at the boat to hit the sack and wonder about the weather the next day. Fortunately we had more Gale warnings and so decided to stay another day in the Orkneys which allowed me to hire a bicycle and cycle to Scara Brae which is an underground Neolithic village about eight miles north. It was awe inspiring and so well preserved that it gave a very clear picture of how civilised and organised they were about 4,000 years ago. The journey bicycling to Scara Brae had been fantastic - sailing with the strengthening South Easterly winds, often cycling at over thirty miles an hour down hill. Four hours later, for my return journey, the wind had reached F8 and cycling up hill into it was extraordinary. When I was going down the steepest hill, dead straight into the eye of the wind, I found I was only going forward on this 21 gear mountain bike if I had it in the lowest of low gears!
That night Jenny completed the passage plan for Wick and Inverness and we got the boat ready and went to bed as the winds howled and we hoped for a better day. My only regret about leaving Stromness was not having picked up a copy of some poetry by George Mackay Brown (Stromness poet and short story writer – Booker shortlist!) who died a couple of years ago. He spent all his life in this curious and beautiful little town, apart from a few years working in the Post Office in Glasgow. It is amazing how big a personality Stromness has, yet you can walk from one end to the other within twenty minutes.
Scara Brae - underground neolithic village
The night before we left the Orkneys was quite eventful – I dreamed that I was continuing the leg wasting ride back from Scara Brae and stoicly only rested when I got to the top of the hills. On one of these my leg fell off with a loud clatter on the ground. I was holding on to the bike to stop falling over, but I had to let go to pick up my leg. This is the exquisite dilemma which dreams are made of and as I puzzled the puzzle I woke up to hear the violent clattering of the wind vane which had sheared a stainless steel bolt – the wind had veered to the South West and the vane was banging around. As I hung over the transom feeling rather hung over, I grappled to remove the wild bucking canvass wing on the wind vane. It was very windy, dark and wet, but my sleeping bag was still warm, ready and waiting.
View across to Hoy Sound
On Monday 25th August, we got up at 0630 and left for Scap Floe. The gale had blown out and the sky was clear to give a beautiful day. Scapa Floe was immense with a few zephyrs puffing across the inner sea which had such a huge horizon. We saw a few seals and then a Gannet being forced down by three Skuas – rather like three wolves bringing down a deer. The Skuas would exhaust the Gannet, keeping it from flying off the water until they could comfortably start eating it! As we departed Scapa Floe we picked up the current pouring out and swept out with it at 15 knots over the ground and across large whirlpools which slewed the rudder round a few times, then we met the rougher water where the Atlantic wave systems meet the North Sea and the waves greet each other enthusiastically. The tidal stream was taking us sideways across our course and as we passed John O’ Groats the sea started to calm down and we were well on our way.
John O'Groats by the Pentland Firth
We got to Inverness at 0100 the next day with a minor fire alarm which turned out to be the calorifier getting upset again and blowing a different hot water pipe off. These all turned out to be problems inherited from the previous owner and classed as part of the snagging list which will help put Bold Explorer right for her trip next year to the Arctic.
Jenny advising Paula on the course to steer
NEWSFLASH – Jenny gains her Coastal Skipper qualification after the epic 18 hr passage from Stromness to Inverness (most exams for this certificate last no more than 8 hours) and she survived the Pentland Firth, a fire alarm, night navigation in restricted waters on the Murray Firth, a low bridge (we have a 23m air draft) and docking the 20 ton, 45 foot Bold Explorer in a very tight space at 0120 in the pitch dark. Well done Jenny!
17th-19th August, Mallaig to Lochinver
Loch Ewe seen from our private cove.
These few days were full of wildlife. We got to Loch Ewe and found a nursery version of Loch Scathbaig (different spellings all over the place in Scotland!) with lots of seals and beautiful scenery – just over the hill were the National Trust’s Inver Ewe Gardens with tropical plants and so forth benefiting from the Gulf Stream climate. Rob and Paula rowed ashore to visit them, but found they were walking on a raft of peat and after being ambushed by midges they beat a hasty retreat back to the boat, from where we gazed at the seals.
The Big Daddy, looking rather ... board?
Basking shark - with mouth open, its nose touches the surface (left) as its tail sweeps slowly five metres away.
Minky Whale showing us her best side.
On the 19th we set off for Lochinver and saw another basking shark and a Minky Whale which kept us totally absorbed for about an hour. We noticed the high Cirrus clouds of the cold front coming through. Shortly afterwards I was asked to do some blind navigation to get us to Lochinver, which meant the navigation instruments were switched off and we assumed that fog restricted visibility to just a few yards and I was kept at the chart table below, relying mostly on depth of water measured, wind direction, compass, boat speed and log of distance through the water. Above all I was relying on the help of the rest of the crew. Each of us do this exercise to develop our skills and heighten our reliance on others – respecting each other’s different mix and levels of skills. And of course that leaves plenty of room for a bit of leg pulling from all sides! We got to Lochinver as the wind picked up and we settled for the night with a splendid meal from Rob and Paula.
Entry to Lochinvar - Rio eat your heart out!
Today, 20th, we had the long promised gale (F9) come upon us as we sat snug in the new harbour at Lochinver. We are now pulling ourselves together and preparing for options to get to Stromness, which is about 100 miles away, round Cape Wrath and in the Orkneys. We won’t know which is the best option until the gale has blown through, meanwhile it is a clean, make and mend day and we shall finish with a meal ashore.
Cape Wrath bottom left, Orkneys? Go up and right a bit.
16th-17th August, Mallaig to Loch Ewe
Sally sorting us all out!
After a great fish supper in Mallaig, we had to say goodbye to Sally the next morning. She slept through her 5 a.m. alarm call but made us all cups of tea before we all trooped off to the Mallaig train station to send her off on her train. We then got on with setting up for new crew joining us – involving a thorough shower, clean laundry and victualling. Sally’s absence is sorely felt, but on Sunday morning we had Sally’s revenge – sadly she had left her mobile phone behind … and the alarm was still set for 5 am! When everyone was stuck in twisted tubes of sleeping bags with zips jambing, all struggling to find ways to surface from our jumbled sleep of swaying dreams and fogs of consciousness, we were all silently wishing others more success – noone succeeded in getting to the alarm for a long time and next day we amiably spoke of Sally’s revenge! And here is our last photo of Sally.
Mast tip scraping the Skye bridge
Loch Ewe - the world to ourselves + a few seals
At 1030 we set off in a fresh grey breezy smurry (see last post) on a course for Plockton, north of Skye. If you could see the maps of the Kyle of Loch Alsh you will see the Kyle Rhea, a bit further south, which is extremely narrow and has a fantastic tidal stream that quite quickly picked up the boat and threw it through the narrows at high speed. Soon after we were passing under the Skye bridge and heading for the beautiful anchorage at Plockton – just up and round the corner from Skye.
12th-15th August, Loch Aline to Mallaig
Tobermory for victualling and on to Loch Sunart
We woke up with plans to drop into Tobermory for victuals then stay the night in Loch Sunart (or the Loch Teacuis part of the loch – look it up on Google if you wonder what I’m talking about!) and go around the Ardnamurchan Peninsular up past Rhum & Eigg on the way to Skye. Tobermory reminded me of Port Merrion and the TV series “the prisoner”. Sally had blackmail photographs of her sent to her Dad and I had one of me sent to Jane. With the boat full of food and booze we then went on to Loch Sunart.
We crept through the rock strewn channels to find the pool that Geoff was seeking and dropped our anchor. The lowering evening light threw up the colours of the hills, bracken and the unlikely high ochre colour of bladderwrack seaweed around the waterline on the rocks. Arctic Terns cried to each other’s echoes coming off the hills and three times we caught sight of a sea otter. Geoff produced a bottle of Laphroaig and a splendid lamb roast and we ate the mackerel as an hors d’oeuvre - pickled sushi! I completed the passage plan for Loch Corbaig and we went to bed set to start at 0515.
Next morning as we left Loch Sunart we had a spell looking across at Sky again and discovered the dreish was one flavour of rain, but there is also smurry rain (which floats through Gortex and wets you out from the inside). As the smurry weather drifted across our fine view of this wall of hillside – from sea to sky, left to right - we were uplifted by a little ray of sunshine which opened up like a spotlight. It was like a finger of light feeling its way, keeping pace with the clouds flying east, following the folds of hills, perhaps making the waterfalls glitter or the old trees stand out briefly, but most impressive of all was the slow speed it travelled over the landscape, showing the enormity of it all.
Langustine for lunch, all at sea
We turned right for Ardnamurchan – the western most point of Britain – and headed north for Skye. On the way Geoff spotted a fishing boat and called out for some langustine. After a brief bit of barter we had the boat hoved to in the sunshine floating between Rhum and Eigg (look them up on Google earth!) and with a glass of white wine we had the most delicious lunch – langustine with garlic butter.
11th August – Crinan to Loch Aline
Up at 0600 to leave for Croabh Haven for fuel then sailing through the Dorus Mor with its whirlpools, two lighthouses and the dreich (!). Apparently Driesh means …. grey, cool, a bit windy, rain the quality of spray and, well, … dreish (please can we have volunteers to give a more sound definition via “comments”). Then we saw Mull! It was a distant, great wall of green brackeny hillside going from the frisky sea to the dour, heavy, grey clouds, left to right, as far as the eye could see. It was immense, and Scottish. We got to Loch Aline in time to have a great meal cooked by Geoff, our master chef.
10th August – Crinan Canal
Xanthus - Fairey Huntsman, shaken not stirred
As we followed the canal, I found the advantage of taking photographs was that Geoff started to fully recognise my Papparazi credentials and I was classified as “TOO BUSY” to help with heaving the lock gates – we had 11 to go. However, I was soon in action when we came across a fabulous Fairey Huntsman, built in 1974 and crewed by owners John and Maureen. As they shunted their bow under the waters spilling off the higher lock gates, Sally was reminded of the Pink Panther and I was inspired by the association with with James Bond and before you could blink I was on board helping them in true chivalrous fashion, whilst thinking of Martinis, shaken not stirred.
Salt water swans at Crinan
9th August – Troon to Crinan Canal
Geoff wishing for some wind
We all felt fully replenished by the splendid hospitality (and laundry!) provided by Mikey’s mum, Maureen, and we slept in until 1000! The next stage took us to the Crinan Canal, which starts at the port of Ardrishaig on the Western side of Loch Fine. The Scottish magic was starting to work on us as we motored past the Isles of Aran and Bute – so close and so big that the scale did not allow for sensible photographs (look in Flickr and see some), so here’s a snap of Geoff-the-skipper on the helm wishing for wind as we motored along before we got to Bangor, he was doing it again off Aran!
Entrance to the Crinan Canal
After many porpoises, guillemots and calm seas we arrived at Ardrishaig and the entry to the Crinan Canal (pictured just below the church). It was built during 1793-1802 by the redoubtable Thomas Telford and has 15 locks and 7 bridges over its 9 miles. The greatest feat he achieved for this canal was to install the most phenominal views and we hope to post some of the pictures on Flickr, when Internet communications allow. We finished the day at lock 4 and wrapped up for the night with some of the Lagavulin malt in the local pub.
