The year summer missed Scotland

Transcription

1 The year summer missed Scotland The account of a cruise to the west coast of Scotland May/August 2015 Early planning I hadn t sailed on the west coast of Scotland since I was a teenager, when we d had a wonderful family summer cruising on my parents yacht through the Caledonian Canal, around the Inner Hebrides, and back to the east coast via Cape Wrath and the Pentland Firth. It s a very special cruising ground and I was keen to explore it again, ideally in a bit more detail, on Rosinis. In 2014 I d been to the Azores and, although the planning considerations were rather different, putting a cruising plan together for Scotland seemed to be every bit as challenging, not least because I wanted to share the experience with as many people as possible which would involve crew changes, some of them potentially in quite inaccessible places. I d spent the winter working on some niggling issues that had bugged us out in the Atlantic; specifically resolving leaks around the shroud plates and through the ventilators and I was now hoping for a completely dry ship with a good flow of air through some greatly improved ventilators in the heads and the forepeak, and some new ones in the saloon. Just before launching I d replaced the genoa furling gear and was looking forward to being able to reduce headsail area with confidence, rather than finding grub screws and bolts on the foredeck, which had been our rather alarming experience the preceding year. Beyond new equipment, I d also spent a great deal of time on routine maintenance, working on the principle that a stitch in time saves nine! Early in 2015 I put together an outline itinerary to share with prospective crew. My plan was to sail as quickly as I could from the Solent up to the west Scottish coast via St George s Channel and the Irish Sea, and back again at the end of the cruise, so I could spend as much time as possible in what I knew would be glorious cruising waters once there. Family commitments in late June and early July meant the overall cruise would be split in two, with a month s gap in the middle. So the outline itinerary quickly fell into place: two weeks to get there, two weeks cruising on the west coast, a month home (while Rosinis stayed in Scotland), two more weeks cruising, and two weeks to get back. It wasn t long before the master plan was sufficiently mature to start sharing with potential crew, to find crew change locations and to arrange somewhere to leave Rosinis for the month I d be home. In the event, as is often the case, the difficult things were easy and the straight forward things took much longer than anticipated. I spent much more time sorting out crewing arrangements and ensuring I could get to crew changeover locations at the right times, than I did arranging to leave Rosinis which I thought might be an expensive problem to crack. However, Graeme Geddes, the owner of another Rustler 36, Unicorn III, very kindly offered me his mooring at the Royal Gourock Yacht Club. He was planning to sail to Norway and would be away for the whole of the period I would be home: problem solved! I was very fortunate in being able to borrow charts, pilots and supplementary reading from a variety of sources and quickly found myself with a large library to stow: 150+ Admiralty charts, full Imray chart coverage, Clyde Cruising Club and Irish Cruising Club Sailing Directions, a full set of relevant Imray Yachtsman s pilots, and, of course, the bible for exploring in this area: Hamish Haswell-Smith s The Scottish Islands. As I shared plans with potential crew members, more than one commented that my schedule seemed a little ambitious. I checked and double-checked, but concluded that it was all workable, so I then fixed key points on the cruise, mostly determined by crew change requirements, and left the remainder to be decided on an opportunity basis once there. It soon became clear that I would be sailing solo up to Scotland, but with crew for the majority of the time in Scotland and some of the way back. That was fine with me and I relished the prospect of a fast delivery passage in new waters. The plan was in place, the 1

2 overall itinerary was agreed with plenty of room for detailed exploring once in Scotland, crew travel arrangements were made, and within 3 weeks of launching I was ready to depart. The overall cruise chart shown below indicates where we actually went. Crew change ports are labelled in green to give some idea of how much freedom was still achievable, even allowing for picking up and dropping off crew. They were the only time and space constraints within the plan. The Solent to Scotland (9th to 20th May 2015) As I slipped from Marchwood Yacht Club s pontoons in the early afternoon of 9th May it was blowing hard from the southwest, so I started with the staysail set and a reefed main. This made it slower than I would have liked as we headed down Southampton Water, but we were rock steady as other yachts broached all around us in the gusts. Once we reached the western Solent we had a thrilling beat into a F6, untouched by anyone around us a great test for my winter s work, which passed with flying colours: everything stayed 2

3 completely dry below. By 1800 we were at Hurst Narrows and headed out via the North Channel. Shortly afterwards the wind eased a little and I decided to change the staysail for the genoa and stow the inner forestay before it got dark: quite a chore. From 2100 the tide would be against us so we headed south to clear the stronger adverse stream off the headlands. Just after midnight we tacked back to the west and then suddenly found ourselves in thick, wet fog and able to see nothing apart from the coloured sectors of the masthead tricolour illuminating a weird disc overhead. Strangely the wind held up and within a couple of hours the visibility cleared just as quickly as the fog had arrived. At daylight I shook out the final reefs, so we were now under full sail, and by 0645 we were 4nm south of Portland Bill with a strong tide underneath us. The forecast had suggested a wind shift to the south and it arrived at 0700 freeing us up for the passage across Lyme Bay. Late morning brought masses of swallows heading north, but otherwise the horizon was empty. By midday we had covered 100nm and by 1330 Start Point and the coast as far north as Brixham was visible on the starboard bow. As we made our way on towards Eddystone in the early evening we lost wind so I switched to the light wind vane on Millie (the Monitor self-steering gear) and rigged a fore guy on the main boom to stop it slatting as we rolled. At 2215 I was admiring the beautiful stream of phosphorescence caused by the keel cutting through the clear water when I noticed that we had company. A pod of dolphins was playing around the cockpit, darting from side to side as I watched them, their own phosphorescent trails outlining their body shapes clearly in the darkness below. If their squeaking was any indication of the fun they were having they were enjoying it just as much as I was. By 2330 I was just half a mile south of Eddystone when the AIS identified a yacht closing from the south moving quite fast under sail. I spotted his lights and lit up my sails, realising that he would pass close even though he was the windward vessel with no right of way. On he came with no indication whatsoever that he had seen me, and passed about 30m ahead before disappearing off into the darkness. Strange, particularly as we were so close to Eddystone Rocks. I wonder whether he knew they were there?! The early hours of 11th May were spent dodging fishing boats and buoys off the coast between Dodman Point and Falmouth, some of it in thick, wet fog similar to the previous night. A tack south was needed to make it into Falmouth and I did this early, then had a fast reach towards St Anthony s Head in grey drizzle. By 0700 we were moored in Falmouth Yacht Haven having covered 190nm in 42 hours with 2 nights at sea. It felt good and I d had enough rest in 10/15/20 minute spells to feel fine. Following breakfast A grey dawn approach to St Anthony s Head, Falmouth and a short nap I called Rustler Yachts to see if they could get hold of some replacement service batteries as I d had to charge them far too frequently during the passage from the Solent. This was annoying as I d thought they were suspect, but hadn t done anything about them through the winter when I should have done. However, within a couple of hours the problem was solved (at a price) and it was good to have reliable power again. I spent some time ashore in the afternoon, then sorted charts for the next leg, and did some navigation planning, trying to work out how I could get to Milford Haven before the next low pressure system arrived. I 3

4 called home to find life continuing as usual it already seemed a world away and by 2100 I was asleep. I d calculated two options for tides around Land s End and into the Bristol Channel, one departing at 1100 and the other 12.5 hours later. I d decided to go for the first if possible and had some key timings to keep to for both the Lizard and the Runnel Stone, which is the critical way point for rounding Land s End. In the early dawn there had been heavy rain and strong gusts, but by the time I was up it was a fine bright day so we slipped at Initially I put up full sail, but quickly decided to reef before getting into open water and then had a fast reach towards the Manacles in great conditions. By 1205 we were at the Manacles Buoy and altered course slightly for the Lizard, enjoying a fresh Cornish pasty for lunch. It took a couple of tacks to get around the Lizard it always seems to take ages to get round and by 1600 I was at my waypoint due south of the headland, spot on time, and tacked into Mounts Bay. Tacking around the Lizard. and into Mount s Bay Our initial heading set us well below the course we needed but we were gradually lifted and ended up fetching a point on the western shore of Mount s Bay between Tater Du lighthouse and Mousehole, watching the MS Scillonian wending its way slowly towards Penzance. For most of the crossing it was wonderful sailing in great conditions, but gradually the wind dropped and after supper the engine had to go on if we were to make our waypoint to round Land s End. By 2120 we were at the Runnel Stone and watched an incredible sunset as we turned northwest towards Longships lighthouse. Going.. going.. gone! 4

5 By 2220 we were just to the west of Longships with the jagged reef all too apparent in the clear, dark night and the coast just visible behind it. The temperature plummeted as I set a course for Pembrokeshire, reminding me that it was still early in the season, and we motored on through the darkness. I slept on and off through the night with few interruptions from shipping but did spot some strange very high Longships reef and lighthouse in the darkness intensity lights on our path off the north Cornish coast. Having spotted them I just steered clear. At first light the wind picked up from the northeast and we were able to sail again. It had been a really cold night, but the sunrise matched the previous day s sunset and the new day promised welcome warmth. As I clutched a hot drink and looked ahead we made our way through a small group of foreign fishing boats. At about 0830 I was below at the chart table when I heard squeaking again. It could only be dolphins and I went on deck to enjoy 30 minutes of brilliant entertainment including one joker who kept jumping completely clear of the water. Feeling quite tired I retired below and managed another 3 hours sleep in my customary 20 minute chunks, taking the opportunity while we were still far from land. It was 1130 before I had cleaned ship and had breakfast outside in glorious sunshine as we made good speed towards the coastline to our north. Making good speed in flat water across the Bristol Channel By early afternoon the Pembrokeshire coast was visible, together with the masts and towers of the refineries in Milford Haven. From the northeast I could hear tanks firing on Castlemartin ranges and I soon began to pick up the islands of Skokholm and Skomer to the northwest. Sadly the wind dropped and we had to motor again to stem the strong cross tide at the entrance to the Haven. Despite the light airs, the forecast was not so good with very strong southeasterlies due during the coming night. The normal anchorage for yachts on passage is at Dale just inside the entrance at the western end. However, with the forecast I had I was not keen to stop there and decided to tuck in under the cliffs in West Angle Bay on the eastern side of the entrance where shelter should be much better. A At anchor in West Angle Bay call to the Port Authority confirmed that 5

6 this was a good place to be and I had a quiet night disturbed only by some strong gusts in the early hours. There was no need to weigh anchor until lunch time by which time the wind had abated, and soon I was heading out past St Ann s Head lighthouse with the weather brightening all the time. To the northwest were Skomer and Middle Island, Looking back at Skokholm from the southwest then Skokholm close on my starboard bow, and Grassholm in the distance: all picturesque bird sanctuaries with very limited landing rights and strong tidal races running between them. By mid-afternoon the wind had dropped again and I motored for a short while around the Wild Goose Race, heading northwest with The Smalls lighthouse visible on the western horizon, then on towards the next rocky outcrops known as The Bishops and Clerks, now under sail again. South Bishop lighthouse At 1700 we passed South Bishop lighthouse and could set a course for Dublin Bay. After some fickle shifts the wind eventually settled down and we had 2-3 hours of 6.5 knot beating, bang on course. But it didn t last and by 2300 the wind dropped as we moved into Irish waters. However, the evening had treated me to another wonderful sunset, silhouetting the Wicklow Mountains as they peeped over the western horizon, reminding me of happy days walking with our eldest son James and his family, who I d soon be seeing again. A trouble free night s motoring brought us within clear sight of the Irish coast by There are two routing options heading up the coast: either inside, or outside the various shoals that lie parallel to the shore, and I opted for freedom of manoeuvre in the southwesterlies that had now set in, so stayed offshore. Our first mark was East Codling buoy which we reached at 0835 in rising wind on a fast broad reach. Ahead on the horizon I could see a large ferry, presumably on the Holyhead to Dublin service, and within another couple of hours we were alongside Kish Bank lighthouse which had been visible for the past 7nm, with Dublin Bay to our west. A slight course alteration to port lined us up nicely for the Nose of Howth, and by 1300 we were in Howth Yacht Club marina, where we were warmly welcomed to their Approaching Howth Head, north of Dublin Bay excellent facilities. 6

7 We d sailed hard to reach Howth from the Solent, covering 460nm in just 6 days and with only two brief stops, but I d been keen to push on to be certain I would make my first crew rendezvous in Scotland in another 9 days. I was now clear that it wouldn t be a problem and took a rest day on 16th May to spend time with James and his family who travelled out to meet me. It was a wonderful day, great fun to have some family time, and a lovely break from sailing: I felt I d earned it. The cliff walk around Howth Head gives excellent views to the north where I was heading and, eventually, to the south across Dublin Bay towards Dun Laoghaire. The sea food at the fish market was very tasty and fish chowder from the local market is also to be recommended. Howth is a Howth harbour from the cliff path great passage stop. Suitably refreshed, I refuelled as early as I could on 17th May and set sail immediately, hoping to make it to the entrance to Strangford Lough in Northern Ireland by slack tide at 2000 so I could make it up to Strangford Narrows. In slightly grey, overcast conditions with occasional showers we made our way past the Eye of Ireland, then Lambay Island and Rockabill lighthouse. It wasn t long before we lost the Wicklow Mountains astern and began to see the Mourne Mountains through the murk on the port bow. By mid-afternoon I was able to spot the gap in the mountains marking Carlingford Lough and the border between the Republic and Northern Ireland. Overhead a pair of kittiwakes played in the updraft from the sails. It soon became clear that our progress was not sufficient to make it into Strangford Lough, so Plan B was brought into play and we altered course just slightly to head for Ardglass, a small fishing port about 10 miles south of Strangford where tides would be far less critical. Meanwhile a yacht caught us that had been gaining steadily from astern despite having very little sail up. My suspicions that she was motoring were confirmed as she passed and headed on. It was 2000 by the time I arrived off Ardglass and it was a bumpy ride in lumpy seas as I dropped the sails and prepared warps and fenders. It was just after low water as I motored in accompanied by a curious seal, and by 2045 I was moored in the tiny Phennick Cove marina. The alternative option was to anchor but the spot indicated in the pilot looked dangerously close to the line taken by fishing boats as they came in and out. As we approached the finger pontoons another solo sailor, Gavin, leapt across from his boat to take my lines. Ardglass is not a great metropolis and the weather was dull so I squared up on Tucked into Phennick Cove Marina, Ardglass board, had supper and called it a day. The following morning there was no particular rush to leave as I wanted to minimise the impact of the foul tide through the southern North Channel. Gavin, in Freya, left at 0900 but it was an hour later before we slipped, hoisting a single reefed main and full genoa, and we were soon on a 7 knot broad reach heading past the entrance to Strangford Lough, with great views up into the Narrows. I was still keen to go there and made a mental note to see 7

8 if I could work it into our homebound passage. Looking out to sea I could see the Isle of Man to the east, then the Cumbrian Mountains and then the Mull of Galloway to the northeast. We charged on at great speed to clear the reefs off the coast between Portavogie and Donaghadee, hardening up to a close fetch as we turned north. The Copeland Isles mark the southeast extremity of Belfast Lough and in my passage planning I d anticipated staying outside them, but it soon became clear that I could just make it inside the islands, through Donaghadee Whistling through Donaghadee Sound, inside the Sound, if I hardened right up. I Copeland Isles dashed down below to find the large scale charts I d need and prepared for an exciting ride through the narrow Sound with a strong tide carrying us into 30 knot gusts. At one stage it seemed that we may need to tack to stay within the narrow channel, but we just managed to squeeze through and emerged into the ebb tide from Belfast Lough amidst overfalls where the two tidal streams met. Looking north off the starboard bow through the intermittent squalls I could now see Ailsa Craig, Arran and the Mull of Kintyre my first sight of Scotland and a sure sign that we were making real progress. After a short while we could see the shipyards of Belfast to the west, with Bangor to the southwest and Carrickfergus to the northwest. There were more squalls as we approached Black Head and the Antrim coast and a particularly strong one took us off course for about 15 minutes as we attempted to stay close to Muck Island, just south of Larne, so we could then set a course inside another large, well-marked rocky outcrop, the Maidens. A fastcat ferry crossed ahead of us heading from Larne to Stranraer and as we crossed Ballygalley Bay the final headland prior to our destination, Glenarm, came into view. By late afternoon we were moored in the new marina there. Glenarm 8

9 Glenarm is a gem and an ideal stopover for yachts heading north or south through the North Channel. The southern-most of the nine glens of Antrim, it has a large castle, still occupied, lovely forest walks through the glen and a relatively new marina with excellent facilities. As the forecast was for strong northwesterlies the next day I decided to stay put and enjoy the local area. So it wasn t until 20th May that we left Glenarm, and even then there was no need to leave until midday to take the north-going tidal stream into Scottish waters. A leisurely start was in order and I even managed a run up the glen, re-tracing the steps of my walk the previous afternoon, before a late breakfast. Once at sea it quickly became clear that the wind was from the northwest, rather than the forecast west becoming southwest. Equally quickly it became obvious that I needed to reef, so it was a while before we were under way on the right course. Eventually we were making 6 knots due north, hard on the wind, in nearly 20 knots apparent. However, it was not to last and as we approached the next headland to the north, Garron Point, we were suddenly headed massively onto a northeasterly course and hit some lumpy overfalls at the same time. This wasn t at all what I d expected: the wind was now from the north! Behind us the glens Looking back at the glens of Antrim to the southwest of Antrim shone green in the watery The rugged beauty of the Mull of Kintyre - initially clear, then under low cloud sunshine, and ahead lay the rugged beauty of the Mull of Kintyre. Gradually the wind backed again and instead of having to tack westwards towards Fair Head and Rathlin Island we were able to continue on a port tack, initially heading towards Sanda, the island to the southeast of the Mull, then towards the headland itself, then eventually towards the start of the north-bound lane of the Traffic Separation Scheme ideal! My faith in the wind was restored: how lucky I felt to have been running in one of the Antrim glens in the morning, sailing up the North Channel in spectacular scenery in the afternoon, and to be looking forward to a dram or two of Islay malt in the evening. By 1530 the tide was pushing us along at a brisk 9.4 knots over the ground in exactly the right direction, but the weather was closing in and before long only faint outlines of land could be seen. Not to worry: Rosinis was sailing brilliantly, taking lots of water over the bow but still perfectly dry 9

10 below and, to add to this, at the speed we were moving we d be in Islay in the early evening much sooner than I d expected. By 1900 we were in Port Ellen and moored alongside the few pontoons there. After supper on board it was only a short walk to the Islay Hotel for that greatly anticipated dram to celebrate my arrival in Scotland just a week and a half after leaving the Solent. Scotland round 1 (21st May to 10th June 2015) I now had four full days before my first crew, Steve Shergold, was due to join in Colonsay, which was no more than one good day s sail away, so I spent the first morning in Port Ellen planning how to get the most out of the time, reprovisioning, and generally sorting out. Caledonian Macbrayne (Calmac) have a complete monopoly over ferry connections in the islands so I got hold of their timetable from the Port Ellen ferry terminal, then in the afternoon I put on my walking gear and headed off along the coast to find some distilleries, heading to Ardbeg, via The Calmac ferry approaching Port Ellen Laphroaig and Lagavulin, and calling in for a tour of the latter on the way back. My particular interest, apart from the obvious one, was to look at the anchorages off all the distilleries, some of which involve some very tight pilotage through rocky approaches. Some world-famous names almost within touching distance Today was also a day of excitement at home as Claire took delivery of our new campervan, a classic VW named Bluebell, and I later saw pictures of her being christened. Bluebell s arrival at home 10

11 Our first month s route through the Scottish islands The next morning was windy, grey and rather wet. My plan was to move slowly northeast along the coast, then up through the Sound of Islay, which lies between Islay and Jura to the east, and out to the north to arrive in Colonsay by Monday afternoon. On the way I was keen to explore some of the tight anchorages in amongst the skerries on the southeast coast of Islay that I d had recommended to me. By lunch time the weather had improved and I departed with the help of the crews of a number of boats moored close to me, some of whom I was to meet several times in the subsequent weeks. The genoa alone was enough to carry me at good speed along the coast and made it easy to furl sail and rockhop under engine when necessary as I explored close inshore in the various bays, many with a famous distillery lodged at their head. My destination was an anchorage called Plod Sgeirean, inside the Ardmore Islands and festooned with rocks, which came with a very strong recommendation from Marchwood friends. It wasn t until the final turn that I could be absolutely confident that I would make it into the right place, but eventually all was well and I dropped the hook in 4m of clear water at the northeast end of a pool surrounded by rocks, each covered in seals. Plod Sgeirean, Ardmore Isles, Islay 11

12 Seals basking on the rocky outer fringe of Plod Sgeirean, Islay What a wonderful place! Total solitude! During the course of the late afternoon (with help from my bird watching guide) I managed to identify great northern divers, eider ducks and canada geese as well as all the usual suspects: oystercatchers, terns, herons and egrets. Around Rosinis the seals played, demonstrating their underwater speed by porpoising over huge distances in no time at all and often surfacing with fish in their jaws. As darkness closed in the silence was deafening. I woke to find lighter winds, now from the southwest and we d swung on the anchor. A pair of red deer grazed in a small glen shore and the sunlight lit up the seabed below. It wasn t until late morning that we departed in order to take the north running tide up the Sound of Islay. As we motored very slowly out we very nearly touched bottom as I inadvertently cut the corner onto the leading marks into the outer pool, only the clear water and bright sun making the underwater rocks right alongside us alarmingly visible and prompting a sudden change of course. We left to the northeast via the narrow Caolos Port na Line channel and then followed the shoreline to MacArthur s Head and the Sound of Islay, sailing under genoa alone as we had the previous day. I d expected the Sound of Islay to be surrounded by steeper ground and was surprised to find open moorland, particularly on the Jura shore. With the tide under us we made rapid progress past Port Askaig (also much smaller than I d expected) and the ferry to Feolin, where little more than a track disappears off across Heading through the Sound of Islay, the Paps of Jura clearly visible the moor. We raced on, past to starboard another distillery Caol Ila and eventually stopped in the last realistic anchorage before we emerged into open water again, right in front of the Bunnahabhain distillery. As I approached the bay it started to rain heavily and I just had time to don foul weather gear and avoid a soaking as I anchored. As I wasn t too confident that the anchor was holding well in the shingle sea bed I set an alarm so I could be awake when the tide turned in the night. In the event all was well until the next morning, when a big gust set us dragging. I quickly weighed anchor and found a large lump of kelp hooked over the spade: it seemed that I d been anchored to weed which had broken in the gust! The tide was still adverse in the direction I wanted to go, so I moved about 100 metres and re-anchored for another couple 12

13 of hours. Shortly after I spotted a pair of golden eagles soaring over the nearby headland majestic! In the early afternoon I weighed anchor again and set sail for Colonsay, soon reaching Rubha a Mhail lighthouse at the northern end of the Sound of Islay and altering course for Scalasaig, all the time tramping along at 7+ knots. After a long period with no phone coverage I suddenly found I was back on the network so took the opportunity to phone home and also to make final arrangements to meet Steve later that day. By 1600 I was approaching Scalasaig. The pilot mentioned a yacht berth alongside the pier but it would be impossible to get lines ashore on my own and the whole place looked deserted so I decided to anchor at a spot indicated in all the various pilots I had on board, go ashore in the dinghy to pick up Steve when his ferry arrived, and we could then decide where to spend the night. Again my first attempt at anchoring was thwarted by a lump of kelp the size of a small tree which took ages to break up and lift clear. My second attempt was more successful and I was just inflating the dinghy when a voice hailed me from the pier head. Calmac operate the ferry terminals and seem to have jurisdiction over the port areas of the remote islands they support. The voice belonged to a real job s worth from Calmac who insisted that I must move to the yacht berth before the ferry arrived and that I was obstructing access to yes the yacht berth. No amount of reason would overcome his insistence, so I moved having first been assured he would take my shore lines. It was something of a surprise, as I scrambled up a ladder to the pier top (at two thirds spreader height) to find that job s worth had taken the lines but then disappeared without tying them to anything (partly, I suspect, because there were no cleats there). In consequence I was left holding a single long stern line as Rosinis bow blew out and she started turning through 180o trailing a bow line through the water. I was on the verge of leaping in and swimming to the dinghy to get on board when I spotted someone else heading down the pier. Together we managed to sort things and by the time the ferry arrived everything was in Alongside Scalasaig pier, Colonsay order, even if we were now facing in the opposite direction. It was no surprise to find that my anchorage had been nowhere near the approach route or turning circle of the ferry. With Steve safely on board we made a brief foray to the local hotel, only to find that the chef had just left, so we had a drink and returned to eat on board. It was a very uncomfortable night alongside the pier as we surged in the swell that worked its way around the ends of the small island. I m sure Colonsay has much going for it, but by this time I d had enough and I won t be rushing back. In the morning we topped up with water (by jerrican from a tap at the wrong end of the pier) and set off, just under genoa, towards Loch Tarbert on Jura cleaning filthy mooring lines fenders, and fender boards as we went. Friends had recommended heading right into Loch Tarbert and anchoring immediately below a bothy at the head of the middle loch. There is an inner loch, but it would be a brave skipper who attempted to take a Rustler 36 through the 5-6 metre wide, strongly tidal channel to get there. It was sunny and clear as we made our way up the transits established by Blondie Haslar many years before and now quite difficult to spot. Initially we were under sail, but we soon had the engine on as the passages began to narrow between savage-looking rocks to either side. 13

14 Sailing into Loch Tarbert, Jura and motoring through the narrows into the middle loch Soon we spotted the bothy and by 1330 we were anchored in the most spectacularly remote setting imaginable, with the bothy itself the only sign of anything other than nature at its wildest. We set off in the dinghy with the aim of trying to get into the very inner loch, but soon abandoned our attempt when we realised there was nowhere to land safely. Doubling back we spotted a lone figure at the bothy and went ashore to find Eddy, a fell runner who was taking time out after a race the previous day on the other side of the island. In the evening the wind dropped and it was a very peaceful night s sleep, miles from anywhere or anyone (apart from Eddy, presumably still in the bothy). At anchor in Loch Tarbert, Jura The next day we re-traced our approach route through the narrows and by 1100 we were back into open water: first a starboard tack towards Colonsay again, then a fast port tack towards the south coast of Mull before beating parallel to the coast heading west. On our starboard side we now had great Looking across to the route we d taken into Loch Tarbert cliffs with waterfalls tumbling into the sea below. As we approached the southwest end of Mull the Ross of Mull in a strong breeze we had an exciting spell of short tacking to clear the reefs offshore, working our way inside them to find the entrance to Tinker s Hole, another anchorage that had been recommended to us. It s always slightly nerve-wracking turning towards a rock-strewn shoreline in a strong onshore breeze, not quite sure where the opening you re looking for 14

15 will be, but I find it s also surprising how calm it nearly always is once you re in. So it was with Tinker s Hole, and our only disappointment was to find two other small boats already at anchor there, with two more arriving shortly after us. For the west coast of Scotland this was positively crowded and swinging room was tight particularly as the anchorage is open at both ends, allowing the tide to set through. I made a point of being up as the tide turned just before midnight, but all was well. Overnight neighbour leaving Tinker's Hole Tinker's Hole - entrance is from the left. Sound of Iona in the left background. In the morning we scrambled ashore to take photos and admire the view over the approach from the previous day, to the south, and across the Sound of Iona to the north. Then we motored out through the rocks into the Sound, hoping to be able to anchor again off Iona and take the dinghy ashore to explore the small settlement and iconic abbey, parts of which date back to the 6th century. Sadly it was not to be: the tide rips through the Sound and the wind picked up to make it unsafe to leave Rosinis unattended. So we hoisted sail and set off in rising wind and heavy rain towards Staffa, hoping for better luck there. Despite the appalling weather it was great sailing made better as we sighted two minke whales close on our port side. Iona Abbey By the time we reached Staffa it was a steady F6 and still raining hard, so we made a slow pass for photos and then headed on north: there was no way we would be landing today. Staffa on a bad day with Fingal's Cave hidden in the murk The midday forecast was for F6/F7 and we debated whether to head for shelter in Tobermory, still several hours away on the north side of Mull, but as we approached the northern end of the string of weird top hat-shaped islands known as the Treshnish Isles we decided we were enjoying it so much that we hardened up onto a heavily reefed port fetch towards Coll. 15

16 It was fast, rough, and exhilarating sailing across to our refuge, Arinagour, but by midafternoon we were secured to an apparently brand new visitor s mooring in the bay, having had several attempts to pick it up in the heavy conditions. Nonetheless, we were there long before we would have made it to Tobermory. The remainder of the day was spent eating, sleeping and reading as there was no prospect of getting ashore until the wind abated. By last light almost 2300 this far north it was much calmer, but by then it was too late, so it was the next morning Arinagour, Coll when we finally launched the dinghy to explore, now in bright sunshine and clear blue skies. Arinagour turned out to be a picturesque and very friendly place with a few small shops, including a well-stocked and rather quirky deli (called T.E. Sco) and a small hotel where we had coffee in the garden and paid our harbour dues. It transpired that the moorings are lifted and re-laid every year and had only been in place a matter of weeks. By midday we were back on board and on our way again with a forecast of west to northwest 5-6 occasionally 7. Our initial aim was to head to Rhum, just under 30nm to our north and then back into Tobermory for the night, but it quickly became clear that we wouldn t have time if we were to be back that night, and unfortunately we had a schedule to keep to if Steve was to be able to travel back on his planned date. Also the wind was building so we sailed as far as the east end of the Isle of Muck, then gybed Surging north towards the Small Isles under genoa to head for Ardnamurchan Point and the Sound of Mull. Nonetheless, we had an exciting reach under just the genoa, and Muck in the foreground, with the impressive stump of An Sgurr on Eigg in the background great views of the Small Isles (Rhum, Eigg, Muck and Canna) and their impressive mountain ranges. Having gybed at 1530 we were moored in Tobermory s small marina by 1830, by now in much more reasonable winds. As we approached we spotted Unicorn III whose mooring I d be using in Gourock: it s a small world and it transpired that Graeme was just starting his cruise to Norway. Soon we were ashore for a beer and a meal in one of the hostelries on the picturesque Tobermory sea front. 16

17 The next day was 29th May and was Steve s last day s sailing, but we didn t want to punch into the tide as we made for Oban, so explored ashore, dodging showers, before eventually leaving at Soon we were goosewinging eastwards in a strong Tobermory s picturesque sea front breeze with the tide under us. The end of May was only two days away but the wind was still cold and there was noticeable snow in the gullies on the north face of Ben More. By mid-afternoon we were off the narrow entrance to Loch Aline, on the north shore of the Sound of Mull, and making good time. So we dropped sail and headed in for a leisurely, if somewhat late, lunch as we motored gently up to the fine castle at the head of the loch and Steve in Scottish summer sailing attire back again. We were surprised to find a small marina in the wood line on the west shore of the loch, but we didn t stop on our short tour, except to recover the dinghy of a hapless couple moored at the head of the loch which had come adrift and blown into the shoreline. Suitably grateful, they duly produced a bottle of wine for our troubles. By late afternoon we were on our way again, past Duart Castle on Mull, and Lismore Island, then on to Oban. By mid-evening we were moored in Oban Marina on the island of Kerrera, just in time to make last orders for supper in the restaurant there. The next morning we were up early to pack Steve s gear and catch the ferry across to Oban where we were met by Ross Wilson, a Royal Engineer Yacht Club friend who lives close by and had been providing parking for Steve s car during his week away. Ross was extremely helpful, driving me around the local area to complete my various chores. With Steve on his way south again I now had 5 days before my next crew was due to arrive. My plan had been to explore some of the local waters on my own for a few days, and return to Oban in the middle of the following week to meet my new crew: younger son Thomas, and longstanding friends, Julian and Julia. However, my plans were thwarted by the forecast. I don t mind sailing in heavy weather, but wasn t encouraged to leave the marina in the F9 that was forecast successively for the whole of my time in Oban. A number of other cruisers decided to move onto moorings rather than risk being battered on the pontoons, but their departure gave me the space to haul off in a double finger berth, with warps running in all directions, yet still just able to step ashore at a stretch. So I stayed put rather than be trapped on board. With the dinghy double lashed on Mid afternoon in Oban marina waiting for the storm deck and additional ties around the main 17

18 cover and genoa I hunkered down expecting the worst, which of course didn t materialise. Local radio mentioned 60 knot gusts one night but the worst I saw was 35 knots and a 6 inch drift of hail in the aft end of the cockpit. Oban isn t a bad place to be storm bound, but by the time my new crew arrived I was ready to move on, having explored every nook and cranny of the town and spent many hours walking the hills of Kerrera. Looking west across Kerrera and Lismore towards Mull from McCaig's Tower, Oban By Wednesday the weather had taken a turn for the better. In the afternoon I met Thomas, Julian and Julia. That evening we ate well in the marina restaurant, with Ross joining us to say farewell, and set off first thing the next morning (4th June) down Kerrera Sound for a good shake-down sail between the mainland and Mull as we headed south. In the late morning we pulled into Puilladobhrainn, supposedly one of the most popular anchorages on the west coast. One beneficial consequence of poor summer weather was that we only had to share our space with 3 other yachts, rather than the 20 plus that can apparently congregate there. We launched the dinghy and headed ashore to visit Clachan Bridge (the so-called Bridge over the Atlantic ) and Tigh na Truich inn (the house of the trews ) in which true jocks apparently changed out of their mandated trews and back into banned kilts as they returned to the island during the Jacobite rebellion. We enjoyed coffee in the inn, but the whole area is a bit touristy, so we didn t stay long and were soon on our way south past the Isle of Insh. Clachan Bridge (the Bridge over the Atlantic) We d been recommended an anchorage in the Black Isles (Eilean Dubh Beag and Eilean Dubh Mor), so headed south through the Sound of Insh and around Easdale, one of the slate quarrying islands in the area, before tacking down towards the Garvellach islands. The wind was steady and not too strong and it was dry, if rather overcast, so not bad conditions for the first day with a new crew. Soon we were able to pick out the Black Isles against the background of Lunga and Scarba to the south and we crept in between the two islands towards a drying band of rocks stretched across one end of the shallow sound, anchoring in 5m as close to the rocks on 3 sides as View NNW from Eilean Dubh Mor, The Black Isles - there always seems to be more space when seen from ashore than from on board 18

19 I dare. The forecast was for E/SE 5-6 becoming S 6-8/9 later. We should be fine for the southerly, but possibly exposed if it blew up from the east. For the moment it was calm and we had tea in the cockpit watching seals playing around the boat and a sea otter on the rocks, then headed ashore to explore. Despite the tranquillity I made sure I knew my way out in case we had to move in darkness. Sea otter and seal During the night the wind picked up slightly from the south and on the occasions I looked out the rocks at our stern looked horribly close, but we stayed put and had a peaceful night. So much for the forecast! We were up early the next morning to catch the first of the ebb tide south and had breakfast en route. Initially it was grey and overcast, and the forecast was still for F9, but for us the wind was light enough for full sail and we made great progress as we tacked through the Sound of Luing - Luing to port and Lunga to starboard - with seals all around us. It wasn t long before heavy rain set in and the visibility dropped, but it was still good sailing with a number of porpoises surfacing around Rosinis. As we reached the south end of Scarba the weather cleared sufficiently for a good look west into the notorious Gulf of Corryvreckan. Sadly, exploring there would have to wait for another day, and we tacked east towards the Dorus Mor with tidal rips tugging at the keel in the failing breeze. With our destination, Crinan, in sight the wind recovered again just as we needed to drop sail and by 1030 we were moored in Crinan Basin. The canal staff were very helpful and, to our surprise, we found that they now work all the locks rather than just the sea locks at each end. Also to our surprise, the sun shone and we were able to dry all our damp kit while we enjoyed the picturesque basin it really is as tiny and pretty as the guide books and pilots suggest before heading Locking into Crinan Basin ashore for coffee and bacon rolls, and some exploring. The previous time Julia had sailed on Rosinis we d had a rather windy overnight trip from Poole to Dartmouth, then on to Falmouth which she hadn t enjoyed at all, so this time I d promised it would be different, with lots of stops and no long overnight passages. Already I was getting the sense that things were OK, despite the rain. That evening we had excellent pan-seared scallops in the Crinan Hotel: the first step on what was to prove to be a week of gastronomical magic. 19

20 Crinan Hotel: Julia, me, Julian and Thomas The Crinan Canal has 15 locks (including the sea locks at each end) and we d allowed a day to get through. Ideally it would be a fine sunny day allowing us to enjoy the scenery as we pottered slowly through with the occasional stop en route, and the previous afternoon and evening had certainly looked promising. So it was a little disappointing to wake up to horizontal rain: our F9 had arrived. It was disappointing for us and, I think, disappointing for the lock staff to find that we wanted to move. At one stage they told us we were the only vessel moving anywhere in the canal. However, we made a virtue of necessity and kept going, reminding ourselves that this was probably the only place on the west coast where we could keep moving in the prevailing conditions. We All smiles despite the rain Turbulent waters ahead did later see 3 other yachts moving in the opposite direction, but that was all. Although the weather was awful we soon had a bacon butty and coffee factory working well in the galley, supplying hot food and drinks, and had a fun day, getting thoroughly soaked. The lock staff remained ever helpful and provided some great tips on handling Rosinis as we controlled her lines in the locks. Going uphill was more difficult than going downhill, but by the end we were all experts and no damage was suffered. Fender boards are essential, but we Lunch at Cairnbaan - half way through 20

21 were prepared. By the time we arrived at Ardrishaig at the eastern end of the canal the rain had almost stopped, but we decided to stay put for the night in the basin which is much less picturesque than Crinan. In fact it s not picturesque at all Ardrishaig appears to have been quite something in the past, but is now rather grey and drab. On this particular Saturday night in early June it seemed to be shut. Sunday morning dawned bright and clear which was a pleasant change. Thomas cooked us a proper Sunday breakfast and we then locked out, making our way around the next headland and into Loch Fyne, passing Otter Spit with the aim of heading as far into the loch as we could. It was good to be back at sea again and it was also striking how different the sheltered waters to the east of Kintyre felt compared with the more exposed coast just 12 nm to our west. We had a great sail on a fast beam reach in flat water, heading northeast up Loch Fyne, past Lochgair, up through the islands near Minard Castle and on to the Creggans Inn at Strachur about two thirds of the way up the loch. There we picked up one of their moorings and took the dinghy ashore for lunch more excellent sea food following an excellent morning s sail. It was a very satisfied crew that sailed Rosinis back down Loch Fyne to Lochgair where we picked up another mooring for the night following an exhilarating beat on flat water into a stiff southwesterly breeze. We had a prompt start the following morning, heading the last few miles down Upper Loch Fyne, past Otter Point again, and into the Lower Loch which has more of an open sea feel to it, but is still relatively sheltered. By now the wind had come round to the northwest and we were able to goose-wing some of the way and reach the remainder, making our way past Tarbert, to starboard, and Portavadie, to port. Straight ahead lay Arran, our destination, with its dramatic skyline, and the rugged ridges of Goat Fell appeared all the more spectacular the closer we got. Soon we were moored in Lochranza at the northern end of the island, and the only stop there that our itinerary would allow. Approaching Arran from the north (Lochranza on the right shoreline) We went ashore again for lunch, this time in a sunny hotel garden, and then walked up the glen to the distillery. The Arran Distillery is only 20 years old and is in a modern building, but it provided arguably the best tour of all the distilleries I visited, mainly because everything is logically laid out and clearly The Arran Distillery 21

22 visible: just not possible in most of the more ancient premises I d visited elsewhere. Red deer roam everywhere in Lochranza and all private properties have high fences to keep them out. As we strolled back to the dinghy we explored the ruins of the castle on a promontory in the loch, and then headed back on board, setting sail shortly after in the direction of the Kyles of Bute. It was a fetch across to Ardlamont Point with even more impressive views of Goat Fell, now astern, and then an invigorating beat in 20 knots of wind up the west Kyle, past Kames and Tighnabruaich, and around the corner into Red deer roaming freely in Lochranza Caladh Harbour. The tiny natural harbour was already quite crowded (3 yachts and a motor boat) with no realistic swinging room, so we slipped back and anchored by an old beacon in the entrance to the south. It was tranquil as the sun set: so quiet in fact that we could hear the anchor chain grinding on the rock below us in an eerie and quite disconcerting way. That evening we tried out our recently acquired Arran whisky which gained crew approval. In the middle of the night I remember waking and looking directly out through an open hatch without my head even leaving the pillow towards a half moon perfectly outlined against a deep blue sky. There was silence everywhere. We woke to bright sunshine and no wind, then watched herons and oystercatchers feeding only a few metres away on the shoreline. After breakfast we motored through the harbour and out through the very narrow channel that forms its northerly exit, then across to Wreck Bay (another recommended Kyles of Bute anchorage) and through the Burnt Isles where seals were lazing on the rocks. Still under power we headed down east Kyle not quite as picturesque as the west and turned north into Loch Striven for coffee and lunch on board at anchor against the shore just off a tiny church hidden in the woods at Inverchaolain Glen. It was then a gentle afternoon sail around Toward Point and into the Clyde where we followed the west shore past Dunoon and into Holy Loch, still in bright sunshine. This was my first experience of the Clyde from afloat and I was very surprised with how beautiful and undeveloped the Caladh Harbour - reflections whole area is. Our stop in Holy Loch was to be our last night on board before leaving Rosinis for a month on the mooring I d borrowed at Gourock, just 3 miles across the river. We needed to do some cleaning up and sorting out while we had the opportunity to spread equipment out on pontoons, but we also managed a final crew meal ashore that evening. 22

23 The next morning we motored across to Gourock, finding Unicorn III s mooring without difficulty, and by 1400 we were ashore with all our kit ready to catch trains and planes back to the south. Rosinis had been away from Marchwood for 33 days during which we d covered a huge amount of ground (915nm all told), seen a wide cross section of the Scottish and Irish coasts, and also had a lot of fun. It was good to be heading home for a while, but also good to know that this wasn t the end and that I d be back in a month s time for more. Leaving Rosinis for a month on the Clyde 23