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| Cawsand |
Only down as far as Cawsand of course,
to take stock and shake ourselves free of the land and make sure most
things are working as they should, lines haven't been wrapped or
worse and generally we're happy with what is our lot. For the most
part we were but for some reason the new Garmin GPS suddenly
decided to delete all the routes and waypoints I'd entered. A call to
Garmin had them agreeing they replace the unit and we had them send
it onto our friends on the Helford. The unit was meant to be dispatched
that evening so we knew we'd be able to collect it in a couple of
days and be on our way....hmm. For a variety of reasons nothing
happened for another week which had us muttering and moving about as
the one wind we didn't want on the Helford but did want to get across
to Ireland was East. Still things pass, units arrive and the “old”
unit returned.
We
left from Falmouth thinking we might anchor off Mullion but with a
good wind and favourable tide we thought we'd carry on to the
Scillies but decided to push on to Baltimore, SW Ireland as we knew
it's a relatively straight forward entrance. The trip across gave us
an uninspiring start, 10c and grey with 20knots or so from the
south-east. We closed the coast as the weather worsened a little,
the wind veered a touch to the south, pitch black, raining and misty with a rolling swell driving us into
the entrance. In daylight this is an easy enough approach albeit
narrow with rocks either side. As we closed, the land couldn't be
distinguished from either sea or sky, the swell made things a tad
difficult but at least radar gave an indication of where to aim. With
our speed too high for comfort but needing the main for stability Bee
scandalised the peak to de-power the rig – it had some effect but
not really enough as the sail was dragging on the shroud and wouldn't
come down enough. Still we weren't out of control just a little
excited and we slid through the gap and motored across to drop anchor
a little after midnight some 38 hours after leaving.
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| Stbd hand mark of course... |
Onwards
we went, hiding from stiff SE's in Glenleam Bay, Valentia as we couldn't be
bothered to push ourselves to get past Smerwick some 30 miles away
and get to a better anchorage. It blew pretty well for the 4 days we
were there and whilst it wasn't the greatest of shelter the holding
is excellent but after the 4 days we were ready to move and headed
out via the Blasketts with a huge number of seals lying around on the
beach before anchoring in Smerwick for a few hours to allow for a daylight entry into Cashla, our next destination. We seem to spend most of our time in Cashla asleep as the 4 days in Valentia had allowed little sleep and the wind strengths were such that we opted, dumbly, not to run the fire relying on the oil lamp and hot water bottles for heat. Unlike Toots of course who, because the wind generator was pumping out the amps, had the benefit of her electric blanket for much of the time....
A
couple of days later having moved further north we had to round Slyne
Head. In the past we have gone outside as the wind has been too stiff
for the inside route but this time we had a chance to go through
Joyces Passage.... Now it has to be said that Pilot Books are pretty
similar in their “you're doomed , doomed” approach to passages
and the Irish are no exception. But. We sailed into what looked like
a dead end, quite small and congested certainly to a long-keeled gaffer with the turning circle of a tram. Rocks and small islands seemed to
overlap, the water surface was agitated and despite the waypoints I'd
entered it all looked a tad confusing. Approaching the last wp before
we needed to gybe through 120 degrees I glimpsed a tiny gap in the
rocks that was in the right general direction for where we had to go
but obviously couldn't be the exit, realised it could only be the
exit as there was nowt else and consequently ended up gybing a little
late. Bee, ever the voice of comfort, remarked laconically “ we're
not going to make this gybe before the rocks...” despite the
lateness but helped by the preps we'd made before going in we did
make it and we slid through the gap. The water the other side was
smooth, mostly clean and it was this coupled to the knowledge that
although very narrow it is also very short and the wind was only
15knots or so made it seem worthwhile. We exited grinning like a pair
of idiots, happy to have made it. Yes we had the engine on in case we
needed a bit of help but the feeling of crash gybing our way into the
gap was intoxicating for sure!
Could it get any better we wondered,
it did of course as we sailed into Little Killary and heard the
magical call of Loons! If you have never had the opportunity of
sharing a mist shrouded anchorage with these haunting calls echoing
through the fog, well white sandy beaches and palm trees just cannot
compete. That image; that call remain the absolute pinnacle for us.
After
LK we were ready to get north and into Scotland. The weather window
gave us good S's to start with but would back to the SE and increase
after a couple of days. Optimistically we decided we'd try for Jura
but 45nm from the destination the wind did back, upped to 25k giving
us a very uncomfortable beat to end with. We kept going until it
backed further whereon we altered course and headed further north
even, at one point, thinking we might head straight for Stornoway
before common sense and a complete absence of wind had us heading
into Loch Dunvegan on Skye. We'd heard about Antares Charts a couple
of years back and having invested a tenner we thought this might be a
good opportunity to try them out, which is how we came to be creeping
around the back of small rock outcrops to anchor is complete security
to the west of Dunvegan Castle.
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| looking, Bee says, like a 60's council block... |
We'd only just finished laying the
anchor and started to tidy up when a seal tour boat came alongside
and asked if we were staying long and wondering how the hell we had
managed to get in without hitting the reef that lay about 100 metres
ahead of us! It's true there is a reef up ahead but there is also a
way past it but we had, in any case, come in via the back door.
Look the charts up – actually they're more like chartlets – as
they're certainly useful and fill in some gaps that C-Map has.
If
Dunvegan had a downside, for us, it was the lack of mobile phone
signal and even rowing ashore while I went looking and Bee went for
run didn't produce one, well not our provider anyway. Luckily the
ticket seller at the castle loaned us her phone and we were able to
track Storm Hannah's probable route, realising that our departure
from the SW corner of Ireland and our decision not to go up the Irish
Sea had saved us from a pasting. Whilst those areas were showing as
bright red and purple we had benign greens and we duly headed out
from our sanctuary at 5am for somewhere in the Hebs. As we were only
going to be there overnight we opted for Loch Eport about 15nm from
the headland we had just rounded. The winds were great giving us a
comfortable, quick sail across The Minch. Eport is another phone free
area but a great anchorage and not long after we arrived the winds
picked up blowing 25-30 from the south for the rest of the day. No
trees, of course, around here but good mud made sure we remained
where we'd laid.
Back
over to Skye and the mainland, visiting old anchorages and new as we
circumnavigated the island. We toyed with the idea (and checked out) two places we intend to use one day. Soay and Scavaig. Soay because we would pass by and have a look and Scavaig because it was there we had hoped to anchor for the night. In the end the constant weather refrain of F6 and gusting had me questioning the sanity of anchoring among the rocks with the Cullins running down into the anchorage which has a reputation for violent squalls and headed down to Rhum for the night. Sailed round the southern tip of Skye and into Loch Nevis with the
intention of anchoring in Tarbet Bay but despite the chart indicating
mud all we found was rocks and after several attempts gave up and
motored back out and across to Oronsay for the night. By now we were
in a HP zone and very little wind so took the tide north and through
the Kyle of Lochalsh garnering a very friendly wave from the crew on the ferry
that crosses the narrow and rapidly moving stretch of water. Once
clear of the bridge that connects Skye to the mainland to sailed or
drifted for several hours before motoring the few miles north to Poll
Creidah for the night. This was another of Antares charts that made
it all that much easier as the southern route between the rocks is
convoluted, with poles indicating where you need to be. But worth the
effort as we had a quiet night, the local boats lying quietly to
their buoys and the seals basking on the exposed rocks until late.
The northern exit is straightforward and we left early the following
day bound for the gap between Rona and Raasay and onto the Hebrides.
With a favourable wind and tide we slid through the rips around
Eilean Trodday knowing it to be a place to avoid if things were
against you and crossed over toward Scalpay. As we closed the coast
we shaped a new course for a small anchorage to the south of the
island called Plocrapool; somewhat similar in make up to the Poll
Creidah we'd left that morning. The sea grew lumpier but eased as we
gained the shelter of the out lying islands until we slid into what
could almost be a Labradorian outpost.
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| Hebridean Light |
A few houses; a few small
skiffs and silence other than the sound of our chain rattling across
the roller. Even a touch of drizzle to welcome us and heavier rain
through the night. The big difference of course was weather forecasts
and the long term has the winds shifting to the north. Another early
start and we motored quietly along the nearby coast on a glassy sea
with the mist coming and going for much of the trip. The Labrador memory
was exaggerated by this mist and drizzle, the shape of the land and
the absence of traffic. True we had nav aids in the shape of
lighthouses and initially, around Scalpay, the odd buoy but until
Stornoway showed up we could easily imagine we were back there. Which
isn't to say we're not happy to be in these islands because we are.
Stornoway
