and then there was one....again

Monday 31st June

A week has passed since the break and much of the time, well several days were spent in Skipport waiting for better winds. We left one evening but seas still out of the NE mocked our efforts and we slipped back to our comfortable shelter leaving early the next morning. The wind, now SE was light but favourable and with the tide running our way, the engine just ticking over we moved along at a fair pace arriving in Plocrapool. We've anchored here before and although there are a number of houses we rarely see folks moving about. This time was no different other than a friendly couple who came paddling by and stopped to chat.

We'd been able to contact someone we'd met years ago in Stornoway and he gave us phone numbers of builders who should be able to help. One was in Mhairvig, a loch we knew and the other on the mainland; given that the former was en route to Stornoway and offered good shelter and holding it was the obvious choice and we duly arrived. Arriving on a Saturday with a Sunday and Bank Holiday Monday following has meant a long, to us, wait but at least we've done the overdue engine service if not much else.

Tues 8th

Spar done in 48 hours though a tad shorter than previous as neither I or the builder thought to measure the sail rather than the, broken, gaff, we're up and running. A 3 day visit to Stornoway for a shop, load up and catch up before heading out and south down the chain. Easier said as the winds remain persistently south and we beat the 5 miles or so down to Erisort and an anchorage we hadn't used in donkeys years but is a cracker, arriving as the weather eased and a glorious evening materialised. South again the next couple of days; one soso anchorage and the second in Loch Claidh after a detour to the Shiants to view the hundreds of puffins that can be found here. Loch Claidh reminded us of various Labrador/Greenland slots we've used and it wasn't until we'd been anchored for some hours and Bee happened to look out at the entrance that we got a real understanding of how sheltered we were; outside were white caps but we had barely rippled water. True, comms were non existent and the following morning we rowed ashore to retrieve a large fender, checked out the sea state and decided to head down to Plocrapool where the shelter was also good and we'd be able to get a signal to check on the upcoming blow. A beat, of course, but enjoyable as we were able to sail through the Sound of Scalpay and then beat through numerous islands to gain the shelter of the south shore. Well shelter from the waves if not the wind but it all went well and by 1pm we were anchored, settled and stowed. Now the fire is on, the wind generator is up and we're ready for the 30k we're due.

It came, it went. The surrounding hills are low but a valley funnels the wind from the south but the holding is excellent, a couple of otters were visible on one of the nearby islands that are adjacent and all was well. Except with further strong southerlies coming we chose to use the SW to scoot back over to Skye for a change and anchored that night in Loch Grishornish after a cracking sail over. The loch is a bit nondescript but shelter and holding was good and the choice was to sail into a couple of nearby lochs or head over the top of Skye to the mainland. The latter was the choice to take advantage of the westerly and get a good sail. Once in the Inner Sound we made a half hearted attempt to sail south between Rona and Skye but an increase in wind strength had us turning back to our original destination of Loch Torridon. This is a longish loch of three parts and it might be a place to explore for a few days. Hmm. Heading first for the outer anchorage I felt the swell caused by the West wind would make life uncomfortable, the second choice already had a boat in it and we sailed on and into the second part. Here the wind increased substantially although the swell had lessened but anchorages looked... well not welcoming. But Antares had a possible choice inside a reef of islands and as we approached the water inside look calm and flat – we entered slowly, picked a spot and dropped. As we were approaching low water we were almost landlocked with reefs and islands and were ecstatic with our luck. It didn't last as the returning tide plus the squally wind had us getting to close, for my comfort, to one of the large rocks and we moved out late at night but still daylight. A nearby shelf of 5-10 metre water saw us punting round for an hour or more as we looked for some protection from the very stiff squally wind. By 1am we were “settled” and unsettled and wondering what the rest of the day might bring. A dumb decision is the short answer. The second and third loch have high surrounding mountains with all that entails whereas the outer loch is slightly more benign so we thought we might go back and try our original choice but rounding the headland the other side was now white water and though we only had the stays'l and engine running we were soon on our ear. Beating was the only option but as the violence increased we turned and ran back into the second loch but chose to go right down the far end. Here we anchored in relative calm not far off the visitors buoys in deepish water. We dug in, looked at the lugger on the buoy and realised we usually see the boat on a buoy of Mashford's yard on the Rame Peninsula. Not long after a flash modern boat came in took the second and last buoy. I had some concerns about how well we were holding but reversing down hard, again, didn't budge us. We'd just gone to bed when a skiff we'd seen earlier calling on the modern boat came over to talk to us. Seems he and the “flash boat” skipper had some concerns as the holding was well known for being poor, few boats ever anchored there but used the shelter between a large wooded island and the village where depths were lower etc etc. I guess my earlier concerns made me more susceptible and we readily agreed that we might move and so we motored the short distance around the island and into the anchorage. Was it better. We didn't really think so; yes depths were a fraction of what we'd had but the fetch was longer and the tide had more influence and the following day we could see that the head of the loch had flat, still water whereas we didn't. After a couple of days of this loch we'd really had enough but a sort of lethargy had overcome us but a lull gave us the impetus and we decided to head back to the outer loch and try the cove there. Mizzen and stay'sl pushed us along but as we approached the cove it seemed we might be able lay a course to the top of Skye wait overnight there then use the southerly to get back to the Hebs. Bizarrely as we running through all this the lugger emerged from the cove! Bee got the main and working jib up and away we went. Sort of. The SW wind had now backed to W, the seas of these headlands are lumpy, confused and hinder progress. Staffin Bay was about 12 miles away but a little north of west and and hour later we knew it wasn't really going to happen. The problem, for us, is the next alternative is Loch Gairloch and entrance and exit that has caused us no end of misery and is on our “do not use” list. But. The 3 mile wide entrance faces west and the seas were rolling in...Windy showed the wind dying completely overnight and going SW then S but light before ramping up later in the day. We anchored in our usual cove, another house has been built but for the first time a phone signal was available... Windy confirmed the weather status for the next day, we ate a big pasta meal, a stiff whisky and went to bed deciding we'd leave at 5am.

In fact we were up at 3, noting the almost absence of wind but more important there was no sign of waves breaking on the far shore. We headed out covering the miles to the entrance and a clear view of what lay ahead. Very little it seems – the wind was light perhaps 6k and the seas flattish. Lots of sail and the engine running had us up to 6k+ and once clear of the entrance the winds settled into the SW giving us a tight angle to get to somewhere 30nm away. By 6 or so we were nearing the top of Skye, the wind veered to the S but we held our course, ducked below Eileann Trodday, a frantic bit of overfall and eased for E Loch Tarbet. We were heading back to Ploc, because, despite the wind funnelling, it suited us. By now we were sailing and romping along but uneasily watching the weather – we did not need another stiff wind on the beam hence one of the reasons for our destination – we could always turn and run further N for an easier time although we starred in that movie just a couple of weeks back....

Anyway just after 10 we slid into Ploc, dropped the hook and within the hour the wind picked up. We can't believe our luck as it is strong, wet and grey outside whereas in here it is warm; aromatic – the potato is baking nicely on the embers and our glasses are full. Sometimes it all just works.

Plocrapool

N57 50.63 W 05 45.07

All this was written soon after the event and I couldn’t get back into writing once we’d got back. Another blog prompted me to get down to it so here we go.

We eventually moved through the Sound of Harris to spend a day or two on Taransay before we hoped to get over to St Kilda. 

 a Hebridean beach....really

Taransay was a joy; superb beaches, clear water and a welcome respite from the weather. When a small window presented itself we headed out late afternoon for St K; a destination that has been on our list for some years. The journey here was uneventful until we closed the island in the early hours of a Sunday morning. Pitch black with the wind and seas beginning to pick up we were glad to make the shelter of the cliffs where at least the waves were smaller and we shaped in for the anchorage where numerous anchor lights could be seen gently moving. We dropped anchor at the back of the boats in deeper water than we wanted but at least clear of everyone and by 3am were below and ready for bed. Daylight gave us a clear look at our surroundings; several boats had left, we moved closer in, raised the double reefed mizzen and spent the time watching the activity ashore. 

 

A World Heritage Site that has a military presence the beehive structures, dry stone walls at odds with the very steep tarmac road, diggers and housing that are clearly visible. By mid day we were all sat in the cockpit, huddled by the doghouse out of the cold wind. The sun was shining and all was well. Around 1pm a loud, gut wrenching cracking erupted above our heads and the mast split in two dropping across the cockpit no more than a foot or two from where we sat. 

The bottom section lay across the cockpit, one end resting on a winch supporting the top end which lay fore and aft. Shocked, devastated, numb yet oddly relieved that the mast had come down when at anchor and not as we worked our way in to the cliffs in rough water. We cleared up, removing all shrouds, furniture etc to make the deckside presence of the two section as small as possible and stowed sail, shrouds etc below. By 6 we were as ship shape as we felt we might reasonably expect, had a quick chat on “what next” and opted to head back to the Hebs rather than wait until the following day as we had intended. We headed out, slightly bemused that none of the remaining boats at anchor had thought it slightly strange that the yellow ketch had suddenly transformed itself into a sloop….

We headed back round the south of Barra/Vatersay, a stroke of luck bringing us into the Sound with a favourable tide and anchored for a few days to make further changes/improvements to the mess. The canvas shelter was badly torn (again) but we were able to effect a repair and propped the whole thing up with a combination of lobster buoys and poles we happened to have aboard. We sailed south from there to visit Pabbay for a few hours and in late afternoon moved a few miles further south to Mingalay. We arrived about 6pm, all the tourist boats had gone home and the anchorage was empty of boats but not of sea life as we were joined by dozens of dolphins leaping, swimming alongside or racing us and each other; further inshore could be seen many more seals watching our arrival. The bay is deep and as, we later discovered, deep quite close into shore; dolphins were seen diving a matter of metres off the beach and rowing ashore seals watched, some followed and we had the whole place to ourselves. An abandoned village; the ruined outlines of small houses; an overgrown graveyard all had us contemplating what life must have been like for these people. As night came in the seals began to gather on the beach singing into and through the night which although tiring by 4am nevertheless was an amazing memory of the place. If you do get a chance and the weather is kind this is wonderful place to stop. The following morning we headed further south just as the first yacht of the day arrived, sadly for them, to a silent bay.

Bracadale arrival

Back in Vatersay briefly before heading north up the islands but opting to get a better sail by freeing off for Skye and arriving late at night in Loch Bracadale. A slow day followed as we made our way down to Canna intending to use the Boat Hbr on the south of the island but stiffening winds and a foul tide saw us head into the, crowded, main harbour. Poor holding really although the anchor held us. We had a look at the boat harbour the following morning; good for one boat with easterly winds.

Drumbuie welcomed us again as we sailed in through the narrow entrance; I’d suggested we might sail in with both main and boomed out genny but then I would as it wasn’t up to me to get pole and genny down before tackling the main inside the anchorage and Bee made it clear that was not going to happen so we swept, rightly, in under main alone. It was here we helped another boat try and retrieve its lost chain and anchor. They’d dropped in 17 metres, the clutch and slipped and the chain and heavy anchor had roared out with the speed and weight snapping the line attached to the butter end…. It’s interesting relating this tale subsequently how I can see dawning on the listeners face (as it did with me) I must check the quality of line I’m using. In the end we spent several days trawling the depths to no avail. A 23 metre yacht was approached to see if they might have a diver and gear aboard but nothing and they left the next day. The lost anchor crew had already contacted a local diving company about recovery but were told it would cost £1200….. We decided on one more sweep, the two dingies rowing in opposite directions when a power boat swept, at speed, through the entrance. I was getting ready to scream slow down when it abruptly swung hard toward us, throttled back and motored over; a guy stood on the foredeck.”I bet you could use a diver” he said and it seems the 23m yacht had mentioned it to them, four farmers on holiday, slightly bored and one a qualified diver with gear on board. He found it after half an hour, the whole lot winched aboard and the question of payment dismissed with a “make a £20 donation to this charity” 

We covered the half mile back to Hannah propelled by an umbrella.......

The weeks went by; a great anchorage east of Gometra, a brilliant few days spent at Lunga in the Tresnish Isles lying on the ground ashore watching the puffins watching us and slowly worked our way to Oban to collect Jemma, Bee’s mate from Cafe Ab. She had a week which coincided with high pressure so the sailing was never going to be exhilarating but we circumnavigated Mull where at anchor in Traigh Gheal, Ardalanish where we met Mark on who sails out of Iona on Birthe Maithe, a converted Danish fishing boat. Amazing story and if you’re looking for a trip with a difference he could be the one for you. We left together for the Sound of Iona after he assured us we’d get through no problems, he for home and us to L Caol on the northern side. 

Fingals's Cave looking out to Hannah

We headed up to Staffa in the morning and while I drifted offshore Bee and Jemma rowed in to visit Fingal’s Cave with J, a keen sea swimmer even swimming in the cave itself despite the jelly fish that seemed to be everywhere. A beat up to Lunga to anchor for a day or so and let her experience the puffins first hand before heading back over to Mull and the beat back down to Oban. Jemma headed for home and we turned Hannah south to begin our journey. A night in Ardencaple Bay preceded a tidal swept jaunt through the Sound of Luing, skirting the Corryvrecken before fetching up at L Na Cille.

A long day saw us anchored off Bangor NI and then a 50nm took us down to Dundrum a wide open bay. A local came out to visit and welcome us, assured us the gusty wind was normal as the town sat beneath a mountain but holding was good and we’d be welcome at the bar. I’m sure we would but the strong gusts made life a little tense or perhaps we were just wanting to get this next bit over so we headed out intending to keep as much as possible to the Irish coast. Progress was ok and we were looking forward to getting through the narrows between Rosslare and St David’s Head which we’ve always felt to be a bind. With 20nm to go came the forecast that the next sea area down, it “starts” at the narrows we were lusting to get through would, experience gusts 50k whereas where we currently were would have much less. We hove to, dumping the main in favour of the try’sl and spent 36 hours warm, dry and comfortable as the current moved us 13nm up and then back as our gusts rarely exceeded mid 30’s.

The last part took us around the corner and back into the English Channel; Mousehole, Coverack and Goran Haven gave us shelter over the next few days before we arrived back at Cawsand. Rolly and uncomfortable we headed further up river into the Lynher, anchoring west of Jupiter Point for a few days until the big tides allowed us back onto our berth. The river is more like a lake here and, for the most part shallow, so we’re limited on how close to the land we can get but the fetch was ok even if the wind over tide situation wasn’t. Heh ho. Back down river to await the tide into Millbrook…..the wind picked up and white caps focused the mind on manoeuvring into our berth. A text message to a friend back on the quay about the state of the wind there elicited a puzzled “what wind” response and so it was. True to form I managed to put us an the mud again and Daz came out to haul us off so by 7pm and about 2500nm later we were tied up.

Since then we’ve got a bit of work done and the mizzen will be started in the new year when we’ve kindly been given access to the big shed that sits on the quay. The wood is ordered and ready; as we work on the mizzen we also need to repair the mizzen boom which was badly damaged by the fall and scarf a piece onto the main boom. The radar has been regularly tested and seems to work fine; the main and bowsprit have been checked for rot and repairs made to the latter which had some punky bits. With the winter approaching we decided to make some changes to our stove which involved removing and then dismantling to strip the rust out. Luckily Bee had found someone obsessed with Morso stoves not far away who proved very helpful over the phone. He agreed to reassemble while we waited and we borrowed a van to take it out there. He did it within a couple of hours although we’d inadvertently stumbled across a fully paid up member of the conspiracy brigade, Covid is a Gates plot assisted by Soros and whoever and on and on. Nothing we could say would or could dent their belief and really there is little point in saying much at all other than we didn’t agree and surely not everything they’d seen on the internet has to be true. Still, he made a good job of our stove and it works now as it did when we first installed it many years ago.

So that's it; we made the update before the end of the year... a year in which the pandemic continued to wreck lives and which makes a dismasting insignificant; a year in which Toots reached 19 and continues to show, thankfully, no signs of slowing down and we started on our 21st year aboard. Look after yourselves; live the best life you can 'cos you're dead a long time.

We'll leave you with this..Take note of the words

 

mbt

Millbrook 

 

 

Oh dear......

If we have thought about Loch Tarbet over the break it has invariably been coupled to another wild loch to the NE of the Sound of Jura. Known as Drumbuie it's narrow entrance helps break up any big westerlies and we had only used it last time when heading south. We wanted to get there and were up early, again, to pick up the north going tide up the Sound. I don't think we've ever sailed this sound non stop, usually having to motor to get the gate at either end but this time we stopped just short of Loch Aline and anchored for a few hours before moving on. The bay is fine, decent holding etc but the swell from the CalMac ferries can cause havoc so perhaps a night there was never really on the cards. We beat/motored up the Sound, rounded the headland and sailed toward the entrance.

 Ahead we could see the mast of a boat at anchor but we were the only two in that night. The following day when they left we moved up into the vacated spot and were rewarded by the shore side sighting of a large fox hunting amongst the kelp.

We should have stayed there but with no internet and the forecast promising NE3-4 the breeze seemed ideal for a passage to the Hebs. 

Exiting the anchorage a sea eagle flew across our bow and the phone signal came back but the forecasted breeze wouldn't come in until late evening with a promise of very strong easterlies soon....Go back, plug on.... in the end the latter prevailed although we changed our destination from the Hebs where winds might be a lot stronger to somewhere around Skye, perhaps Loch Scavaig..... As we motored on past Muck, Eigg and Rum the destination nagged away at me – it has a reputation for fearsome squalls coming down from the nearby Cuillin Mountains and it might not be the sanest berth for a couple of days. Exciting perhaps but we'll leave that to others. Checking the Antares there looked to be a possible shelter in a nearby loch that had hills rather than mountains surrounding it and trees as a bonus. No mention in any pilot book and a entrance that involved having to slalom through rocks to gain entry to a less than inspiring Loch caused mostly by the huge mussel farms that seem to be everywhere. The approach was made worse by a hard running ebb though luckily at neaps and the shoreline looked distinctly rocky.... At the head of the chosen bay there is sufficient room between shore and farm to get good swinging room, the shore looked to be less rocky but that may have been wishful thinking on my behalf. The anchor went down and.....

silence! No rumbling or grating and Hannah swung sharply to lie behind the anchor. Might be kelp of course but reversed, as ever, hard down so remain reasonably confident. The blow is expected this evening and tomorrow although the gribs suggest gusts of 30k rather than 40.

Monday 24^th

We spent a couple of days in Eishort With strong gusts keeping us aware but the bonus of an eagle and four otters to observe. Despite its initial uninspiring impression on us we came to appreciate its qualities, not least the excellent holding in thick mud. But we wanted to get on and with a short lived quiet spell forecast we wanted to try Scavaig. A short 15nm sail found us entering at low water with the “to be avoided” patches clearly visible with basking seals atop. The anchorage proved bigger than we'd imagined and surrounded on three sides by high walled peaks. In the corner sat a white-washed climbers hut and the afternoon had a series of punter boats arriving to collect or deposit various groups of sightseers. To be honest anchorages such as this leave me on edge as the escape route is not straightforward and the surrounding land is going to substantially increase any wind but all was quiet but we were up for another early start the following day with the destination of Barra on our mind....

The forecast was for S or SE 6-7 so a blowy day but if it came in SE a fairly comfortable one. Passing Soay we experienced the lumpy seas at the western end followed by the increase in winds off nearby Rum. Off Canna both wind and seas began to build although the boat remained comfortable – jib, stays'l and a reefed main pushing along at 7k plus. With 20nm to go however things had begun to deteriorate to the point the jib had been dumped and a second reef put in. As we completed the job Bee asked if I wanted the vang (a line that controls the end of the gaff – there's one for each side) easing as it was tight but it was keeping the gaff off the shroud so I said leave it. Stan coped well but in an effort to keep to windward of our waypoint I had begun steering but as seas increased and we were shipping far more water we knew we needed to think of saner options and opted for Skipport some 18nm to the north. With the main out and a preventer rigged, the stay'l sheeted hard in we settled down for a fast if nervous run. The headland we needed to clear was proving to be on the cusp of being cleared but was still 10 or more miles away. We could gybe but would then need to gybe back again for the entrance and the seas were growing, starting to roll and breaking making the manoeuvre a potentially fraught one. But the downside was we were treading a fine line that required a lot of attention. We're were stbd tack but sometimes a sea would hit us on stbd and shove the boat over causing the main to flutter dangerously...

The weather was pretty bad with heavy rain and a cold wind so the coffee Bee produced was very welcome but stupidly I took my eye off the job in hand and in seconds we gybed. The preventer stops the boom smashing over but the gaff, of course, doesn't have that restriction so comes over much further. All hell was let loose with seas and wind seeming to up their game to take advantage. We have had involuntary gybes before and with “luck” we're able to persuade Hannah to come back onto the right tack by keeping the tiller over and that's what happened - back came the boom with huge force. The coffee was still, just, in the cups and as we took a welcome sip I happened to glance aloft and there, hanging forlornly was the end metre or so of gaff. 

 

Finally down and lashed..

 It had snapped in two, Heaving to and the struggle to get the main down in big seas took some time and was a hairy moment. We had to get the boom tied down to stop it knocking one of us over; the gaff was now a couple of lethal, jagged spears and either hands or sail could suffer serious damage but it was finally under control and lashed down we were able to free the stays'l and head on, still managing 6k in the stronger gusts. Down below Bee reported that our home was a mess and Toots indignant that a couple of light cushions had fallen on her sea-berth where she had been sleeping. Onwards we ran the headland disappearing in the rain and mist but getting closer. The big advantage with no main is the gybe risk implication disappear and made us think again of a square sail benefits.

We finally rounded the headland and shaped toward the entrance where shelter from the waves was assured. Down the channel we raced in driving rain and down to where we'd anchored many years previously. Sadly not to be as fish farm operations now take up most of the available room. We went back to the first anchorage we'd passed and, eventually, dropped there getting the stove lit as a priority.

The morning brings more rain and continuing strong winds, though not yet, Talking it through we think the vang that Bee mentioned was tight enough to cause the spar to snap and it's something we'll ensure we never do again. Is it repairable? Not sure, certainly when hove to we noticed a couple of “splinters” fall into the water so parts of it are missing. Scarf? Rebuild? A new one? Perhaps in Stornoway we'll find out.

THE PAPS OF JURA

 As 2021 ticked off the months, we gradually began getting Hannah back together, sails bent on in February so anxious were we to convince ourselves that this year Covid restrictions would be eased enough for us to feel comfortable with cruising. By April we knew we should be  able to move and Bee told her mates at Cafe Abundance that their all purpose washer-upper would be heading out. Come the day and the very high tide we slipped our lines and headed out. Unfortunately not very far as my inattention put us firmly on the mud. But as we'd left earlier than we should, the tide and Daz in a rib eventually had us off. First stop, of course, was Cawsand Bay, rolly as ever, and then the following day a brilliant return to sailing with a passage down to the Helford for the night. 

Onwards the next day for the Scilly Isles and into St Helen's Pool. On the few times we have gone to these islands we always been underwhelmed by their reputation whereas this time we were captivated albeit we were only there a couple of days. At low water this pool offers a huge amount of protection and the ocean swell only really noticeable either side of HW but the forecast offered a soon to arrive stiff NW and we decided to head off to Dale Bay at Milford Haven. In retrospect this was a dumb decision given our last experience (and with this wind direction) there was of a boat and mooring being pushed across the bay and sunk but we arrived and to our surprise found three other boats at anchor, but worked our way inside of them and anchored. Soon after two boats left for their marina berths leaving a Rival and us. The wind began as SW (OK) before backing to NW and not OK. The wind strengths were in the 30's but gusts touched mid 40's but the wind over tide situation had spray coming over the boat with a serious amount of fetch so not our finest choice. The Rival had it worse of course, almost burying their bow and at the limit of their chain they can't have had an easy time but both boats and crews survived and when conditions eased headed off. Our plan was to poke our nose into Skomer for the night and we slowly beat our way toward the island.... the seas immediately off it were not particularly welcoming and didn't moderate on closing the entrance. Bee checked with the bino's and reported little change further in which, given this is a tight-ish anchorage for us, had us bearing away hastily checking the stream and making for the Jack Sound where our speeds rapidly shot over 8knots and we were through. But to where? St Bride's Bay offers few anchorages and not with protection from the east and the nearest place would be Fishguard (FG). We plugged on but went around rather than through Ramsey Sound as I thought we might have missed the gate. By the time we had rounded and left it to our south the tide was running against us and we motored slowly on. Ahead we could see another yacht and we both came into FG about the same time – turned out to be the Rival from MH. Fishguard has a poor reputation for strong winds from NW-NE but we didn't think the forecast was for strong so took a chance. It was rolly but the holding is good and we waited out the passing of this front. We tried another anchorage but being further to the N of the bay meant it had far more swell and back we wandered.

On the Sunday we heard those magic words from the forecasters “Gale now ceased” and we made preparations to leave. At 15.10 we hauled anchor and made our way out of FG. The seas were minimal, the wind decent and we were on our way. The forecast had been for S6-7 occasionally 8 and that's what we got. We knew some of it would be lumpy as tides run strongly between here and the Mull of Kintyre but other than a slowing of our speed we were able to truck on. And on. I contemplated various places we might pull in for the night but Bee felt it a waste of the wind and she was right. The seas ran, perhaps 2-3 metres but mostly the wind stayed in the high 20's sometimes gusting low 30's so we were pretty comfortable. I'd made a change to Stan – our steerer -over the break which meant he didn't foul/bend bolts any more and things were hunky dory aboard. On the second night I did consider pulling into the anchorage by Bangor, NI but pitch black, big rolling seas and a beam wind would have meant a very uncomfortable trip in and Gigha was only about 90 miles away. We passed close to the IOM but didn't really see it and even the Mull of Kintyre was nothing but a smudge of a shadow. But the day came, the sun came out though the wind remained cold as we slid up the west coast of this island to an anchorage we'd never used before. The last few miles were gusty and quick but thoughts were on the anchorage and whether it would work, what the holding and all those other things we consider.... Rounding the headland we found a broad, deepish bay, no houses but a couple of camper vans and two fishing buoys. We dropped anchor a little under 48 hours after we'd left FG now almost 250nm astern. The trip itself was exhilarating but the views from the anchorage were just wonderful as was the sighting of loons in here with us! OK they lack the call, for the most part, of their North American cousins but they remain one of our favourite birds. Away to the north could be seen the magnificent Paps of Jura, the sea sparkled, the holding was good and very little swell could be felt. The fishing buoys turned out to be a temporary anchor for a fishing boat but we were clear enough not to cause a problem and he'd left early the next day. As we did to catch the tide through the Sound of Islay. The scenery in this area is stunning and the short 10nm across to the sound is a joy even if the wind was less than impressive. Once into the sound the wind is almost meaningless as we were swept along hitting 10k at one point. I did think of taking the reef out until Bee reminded me that the last time we came up here with the wind in the SE we experienced humongous squalls when we reached the end.....and so it was this time. It's short lived but certainly wakes you up. Our destination lay ahead and one we've thought about often over the Covid times. Loch Tarbert has an intricate entry that twists and turns using painted marks on the rocks originally to guide you in followed by a narrower passage into the loch itself. This is a big loch so anchoring choices are plenty. Our first choice was almost as you enter but the following day we moved across to anchor off the bothy on the northern side where we stayed for a couple of days even dinghy-ing ashore to check out the bothy and talk to a walker who was using it. We wandered around and up the hill, startled when the phone suddenly burst into action as it picked up a network, and Bee decided she'd have a bathe in the pool that gathers beneath a waterfall. It was cold apparently...

Down at the bothy the walker, Cathy, had developed problems in a leg and was resting up prior to tackling a particularly arduous part of the walk and back on the boat we thought perhaps she might appreciate a lift to get her back into the easier section so rowed back to make the offer much to her delight. The following morning we picked up our passenger and dropped her off a few miles down the loch on our way out. A few miles by boat but, we were assured, a tough day to get to where she now was and re-united with her walking companions. We upped and moved on up the coast pausing for the night in a small bay south of the Corryvreken. Perfectly adequate for the night we were to have, not perhaps a stop if winds were forecast.

Crossing the Great Race the following morning presented no problems mostly because there was no swell and no real wind so the current just sent us bowling along, somewhat off course but heading roughly N. What wind there was picked up but moved into the NE giving a wearing beat until we gave up, dumped the genny and motor sailed our way along the Mull coast. Close in we dumped the stays'l and simply motored up to the narrow entrance to Loch Spelve. We've never gone in here, mostly 'cos the c-map we use is inadequate for the entrance giving very little detail other than a contour line. As I've mentioned before some years back I came across Antares Charts, large scale chartlets of various Scottish lochs and they have been invaluable. Here was such an occasion as we entered under sail meeting an outgoing yacht in the narrowest part of the channel and then up into the northern part creeping between a huge mussel farm and a small island to reach the anchorage. We chose to go further into the bay where there were no boats – probably because the bed was a tad graunchy from rock but we had a couple of nights there before moving to another bay, again with mussels growing and one other boat at anchor. Enough room and by evening a further two had arrived.

 

no pics until we get a stronger signal....