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