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.