What a Difference a Day Makes.

19-20Jul13

Arriving at Flowerdale we were unable to moor on the small pontoon for lack of space and smaller boats preventing us rafting. So, we trundled round to Loch Sheildaig about a mile away noticing there was space in an optional anchorage on the way. We picked up one of the six available blue and white mooring buoys and were immediately glad we had been diverted. Flat calm, serene and we could hear the boat's clock ticking below deck; a beautiful bay with some small islands scattered around and an abundance of wildlife to observe. This had been the first day of true sunshine for us and what a treat, Summer at last.

Adjacent to our mooring was a nest with four grey heron chicks almost ready to claim their independence; they would leave for a while during the day but return again to roost in the late evening their parents taking less and less interest in their demanding calls. In the early hours we spotted sea otters running along the banks and grey seals would occasionally poke their noses clear of the water near the boat to see what was going on.

At last we had occasion to launch the dinghy and ventured off over to Flowerdale where we took the tourist 'easy walk' up to a local waterfall, a pleasant wander in the sunshine and probably more impressive with more rainy conditions; the higher we walked the more the midges made their presence known especially a brutish type which had a particularly painful bite. All-in-all a very pleasurable stay, next stop we hope to anchor in a small bay on the Island of Rona.

One of Those Days

18Jul13

Today was gremlin day. For some reason the sails would not set properly despite trying every variation we could think of and so we had to settle for a longer journey by being under powered for most of the way – a problem we still have to resolve. The engine struggled to start when needed and the wind and swell were coming from all the wrong angles for our course. However, we finally made our escape from Kinlochbervie and arrived in Lochinver in the early evening with some fine and sunny weather from the South making the passage more pleasurable.

From a secure pontoon mooring we were soon alerted to the clattering sounds of ice being launched down a chute into the salmon despatching shed. Fish, fresh off the boat, were being prepared for their journey by road to the Continent by a team of French fishermen. Thankfully, the work ended before the wee small hours.

A quick sortie into the village for some provisions and gas before leaving and we would be ready to start making much shorter hops between the many lochs, bays and islands that adorn this part of Scotland – the views of the Highlands from the water are incredible; views from the land tend only to be up. Progressing south there are now many more walkers and tourists and we are preparing ourselves for more boat traffic at our future destinations. Our passage to Lochinver looks like having been our last day of wind, for a few days at least. Next stop Loch Gairloch and Flowerdale Bay where we can moor free of charge after paying our dues at Lochinver.

Fifty Shades of Grey!

We have been travelling now for 2 months and I thought it was high time for a 'Jenny post' for those of you that may interested in another take on our lives aboard Arbablest. Fifty Shades of Grey is a most appropriate description of our experience to date. However, not, as some of my closer friends would be thinking, by way of reference to last year's bestselling paperback!.

I knew that by heading North we would be foregoing the prospect of spending our days sailing along in light airs basked in sunshine, but I had not imagined just how 'grey' our world was to become on an almost daily basis. A day can be anything from 'a really dark grey' to a 'misty grey day' or sometimes just 'not as grey as yesterday', however we describe it to each other we cannot avoid the dreaded word grey. We are most envious of you all as you enjoy a wonderfully hot and sunny summer further South. I did dispense with my thermals in mid June but we are still wearing several layers and waterproofs to keep warm even when just going out for a walk. One of our most consitent disappointments has been the number of landmarks and 'sights' that we have missed seeing along the East Coast and in the Orkney and Shetland Isles due to them being shrouded in mist.

Enough of moaning about the weather, what about other aspects of our everyday domestics.....

Our first two weeks on board were perhaps the most challenging from a personal point of view. Graham and I had to get used to being together 24 hours a day and to working the boat efficiently between us. There were times when I'm sure that we both wished we could just walk on water to allow us a few minutes of 'time out'. We are both quite strong characters but on any boat their can only be one Skipper! We accommodate this by sailing within the comfort zone of the person who is least happy about a situation. If one of us is unhappy about a particular anchorage or with sailing in certain weather conditions then that is what we work to. This works well for us, there is little or no confrontation (how boring I hear you say!) and no recriminations if things do go wrong. To Graham's delight he discovered a new saying hanging on a gift shop wall in Kirkwall. Along the lines of 'I would agree with you but then we would both be wrong!' it is one that has yet to be used in retort.

Our sailing days are the best. We wake at whatever time is necessary to catch a favourable tide. Anything after 4am is OK with me and we are often rewarded with some beautiful early morning views and wildlife. A quick cup of tea and a few cereals and we are off. Food in small but regular amounts is a big part of breaking up the day and is our best antidote to possible seasickness. We usually have a bowl of porridge with dried fruit a couple of hours into the sail and lunch on a chilly day is often a hot homemade pasty with a cup of Bovril. I will have prepared something beforehand for supper en route or when we arrive at our destination eg a pasta dish or spicy curry – something quick and easy to have ready. I bake a cake every week to have with afternoon tea and we have enjoyed several homemade soups and bread along the way. Needless to say we have not yet managed to loose any weight despite our more active lifestyle!

Days tied up at a pontoon are OK if there are not too many of them in succession. We spend our time doing odd jobs on the boat as they arise, Graham is a whizz as far as the electrics and mechanics of the boat are concerned, and we catch up on shopping, cooking and laundry. We walk most days to explore the surrounding countryside and sometimes catch a local bus to take us 'sightseeing' further afield and back again. A lot of our time is spent reading up on places to visit, deciding where to go and then with an eye to the weather forecasts and tides we prepare a passage plan for the next leg of our journey.

Our day to day routine sounds pretty simple and perhaps to some a bit boring. However, we are having the time of our lives. Each day delivers new sights and sounds of our beautiful country. We have met some really super people from all different walks of life. Contrary to the preconceived ideas of some that sailing is for an elite group it is in practice a great social leveller. A group of people talking on a pontoon are not judged by the size or perceived cost of their respective boats. Their talk is of the journey that they have just made or where they are heading, a favourite anchorage or request for advice from others as to how to fix something on their boat. We have met with all sorts of folk to date and have always found them to be incredibly friendly and down to earth. We can sometimes spend hours over several days talking to someone and never actually getting to know their names. We may refer to them as 'ketch couple', 'wooden boat man' or 'the Oyster 47s', names and personal lives/issues seem comfortably irrelevant.

Whenever we stop somewhere new I am keen to learn about the history of that particular local economy, how it works and survives today and the daily lives of those living there. There's usually someone local that is willing to humour me and we have learnt so many interesting things on our journey to date.

The downside of our 'life away from home' is that I do miss the company of my family and friends. We have been fortunate to have telephone and 3G signal for most of the time but it is no substitute for giving a big reassuring hug and a good natter.

We are looking forward to the next phase of our journey South to explore the Inner Hebrides. I really do hope that the sunny weather is still around when we get down there.

On the Wings of Love!

Its time to bid farewell to Kinlochbervie probably the best protected port on the NW coast. The Atlantic swell that has been keeping us here is now subsiding though, unfortunately, the wind strength is fading too; seems its all or nothing but we will be glad of some warmth. Tomorrow we should have made some progress towards Skye.

We have met some very interesting people here including, at one point, being stood in a group that all had claim to belonging to Lincolnshire and the locale! 'The Container Gallery' was another bonus with direct links to Stephen Pearson the artist who painted 'Wings of Love' in the 70's made infamous by 'Abigail's Party' and 'Coronation Street'.

Howzat!

With the challenge of a building Atlantic swell on the nose for our exit we may have to make ourselves more familiar with Kinlochbervie for a while longer – at least we've been able to enjoy the cricket. Furthermore, whilst everyone else appears to be bathing in suntan oil and throwing prawns on the BBQ spare a thought for us up here in the NW reaching for the extra thermal layer!

Square One

Our plans for a short, casual meander south down to Loch Laxford all went well until we entered the loch itself. Quite a large, short swell had built up making the sailing uncomfortable but OK for a short passage. However, upon arrival as we proceeded down the loch our intentions of anchoring for the night were thwarted once again by the multitude of fish farms and crab pots now established in every available space – these fish farms are to be expected as they make a lot of money for the locals, but the litter of crab pots?

Whilst the scenery and grandeur of the surrounding loch was impressive, and not to be missed, our backup destination was now too far away and would mean fighting through the building swell which we had just left behind. It was easier and more sensible to retrace our steps for the short journey back to Kinlochbervie. Despite the sense of 'going backwards' haunting us our spirits were soon lifted when we were suddenly joined by a pod of around 50 common dolphins surfing and jumping clear of the water around our bow wave; they were about to go on a feeding frenzy with gannets diving into the mayhem. Sometimes, revisiting somewhere can have its rewards.

Cape Wrath!

Approaching Cape Wrath

A relaxing morning, casual breakfast, a few jobs then we realised our late night passage plan was at fault...'Is that a plus or minus on the hour to leave?', Oops! A quick departure and full sail up the loch. We were soon reefing down and feeling our way towards the peninsula. Seas can quickly build up here but we were able to handle the moderate sea state by keeping off by about 3 miles; the lack of wind over the previous days had certainly helped our cause. Heading south now we were able to slide between the white caps as the apparent wind picked up to F6 and enjoy the coastline as Cape Wrath gradually disappeared and another 'hvarf' [see 'Back in the Saddle'] had been achieved.

We surfed into Loch Inchard on the gradually reducing swell heading for our anchorage. Unfortunately, this was occupied by the now ubiquitous crab pots which would have hindered our swinging room and so we headed across the loch into Kinlochbervie: a small fishing port with some recently installed pontoons where we rafted alongside a Dutch Allures 40 whose crew were waiting to make the reciprocal passage we had just completed.

Dead Calm

The first part of our passage was to take us through the perilous Burgar Rost of Eynhallow Sound [Rost is a local term for very rough and turbulent water caused by strong tides over a shallow and narrow gap]. Our timing was spot on for a safe route through but the lack of wind and calm sea state made for a very undramatic event; no complaints though.

Again mist and fog shrouded the mainland and we had poor visibility for the first few hours. We had intended to hug the coastline as far south as we could but we decided to head away from land on a more direct course to try and escape the mist and fog; this turned out to be good decision. From our position away from the Islands we had a fantastic view of the Old Man of Hoy piercing the solid white fog line with ethereal majesty; a sight we would have missed on our original course.

Chug, chug, chug went the engine as we headed direct for our destination: Scotland; the sea in a mirror-like state except for the slight Atlantic swell. The wind never materialised and so there was more chug, chug, chug all the way to the entrance to Loch Eriboll [15 miles east of Cape Wrath]. Our intended anchorage was 5 miles into the loch and we noticed an immediate increase in air temperature from the heat radiating from the land – heat, something missing from Orkney and Shetland.

Our anchor set on the fourth attempt after previously behaving more like a kelp and weed rake, we stopped the engine and we were then left to enjoy the tranquility of the surroundings...silence.

Back in the Saddle

We bid farewell to Kirkwall and made our way back north to the same mooring buoy we had left more than two weeks ago. Our stay in Kirkwall had been a pleasant one; some running repairs undertaken and many new acquaintances in and around the marina. The end of June was very busy with many boats arriving from Norway, Sweden and Germany many having to raft and all expertly done – at the risk of upsetting the entente cordiale the one French boat that arrived just happened to choose us to raft against and promptly broke our newly repaired guard wires; we will just say we were pleased when they left.

Still awaiting its 4-man crew to return was an ocean-going rowing boat. The crew have currently returned home for a break on their way to Iceland after a gruelling start to their challenge when at one point they had to row for 13 hours just to stay in the same place! See more at northatlanticrow.com.

Part II of our journey now beckons and the Hebrides our destination. On to Loch Eriboll at the NW of Scotland and if the weather is fair Cape Wrath then south and down the west coast. Cape Wrath does not mean Angry Cape: Wrath is a corruption from the Norse word 'hvarf', meaning 'turning place', the point where Vikings used to turn east for home or south to the Hebrides.