It's disheartening spending months preparing Pixie for this trip only for things to break, go over the side enroute or be storm bound through what has seemed like an endless stream of low pressure systems slamming their way into the west highlands of Scotland. So to have two days like we've just had really means a lot to us.
We woke up looking skywards out of the fore hatch, the way we do in the morning. But rather than the grey fluffy clouds we've sadly come to expect, the sky was blue! The cups on the anomometer at the top of the mast were turning slowly and the sunlight was flooding into the cabin. It was a beautiful day. Loch Nedd was green with trees, small cottages poking through the foliage. We ate breakfast on deck in the warm sunshine, before tidying up Pixie to go up Loch A' Chairn Bhain for the day. It had clouded over by the time we left, and the light breeze was on the nose so we put the engine on.
We could have made a dash for Cape Wrath, but we're not likely to sail in these parts again so we thought we'd take the time to absorb the scenery. We motored up to Loch Beag, before dropping the anchor and having lunch. Shortly after lunch the sun came out again, so we relaxed on deck for the afternoon, something we haven't been able to do enough of on this trip. So it was a great way to spend the day. Sitting in the cockpit, reading Harry Potter, surrounded by mountains valleys and waterfalls, all in bright warm sunshine.
At about 1700 we left the anchorage sailing at a very relaxing 1.7 knots. What little wind there was soon died, so we resorted to the engine to take us to the anchorage off the Kylesku Hotel where we had dinner.
While ashore the wind died, leaving Pixie floating on a mirror, with the mountains around the Loch reflected in the water. We came back, poured a whisky and watched the sunset, and took in the stunning scenery that this part of Scotland has to offer.
Two days with nothing going wrong, and the sun shining...I could get used to this sailing lark!
Glad to see you guys are getting a break. Hope the rest of the trip continues in the same vein. btw you're now heading for the best bits.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you made it to Kylesku. I didn't think that you would go so far up the loch, or I would have told you some of the history of the place. I would have got you to ask for 'Carol' at the pub in the evening. I've known her for 34 years. She still has her Hertfordshire accent, though she has been in Kylesku all that time. Her husband was Sandy who skippered the ferry and was the reason she moved there. He was a lovely man. He died fifteen years ago in the kitchen while she was hoovering the living room. "The sod never told me he was going", she complains, still with a tear in her eye. They were always very much in love.
ReplyDeleteThe Kylesku hotel is a thriving enterprise these days, but its heritage was as the furtherest north west point you could reach after 9.00pm when the ferry stopped for the night. The secret was to be inside the pub when it closed, because then the doors would be locked and the evening would start. Now and again the policeman from Loch Assynt would phone to say that he might be popping in that evening - everything is civilised in the highlands.
We used to stay in one of Mrs Campbell's two caravans before the council made her remove them from the parking zone, but only after 25 years. She also had a shop in an old bus parked at her B+B next to the hotel. When it came time to get rid of it she had the local men push it down from her house, across the road and into the bay. It sank with bubbles lasting several hours, then it's exhaust pipe out the roof reappeared at low tide. It lasted that way another 15 years - only recently has it disapeared entirely.
The bridge ended the ferry. But it is a beautifully designed bridge. After the demise of Mrs Campbell's caravans we used to pitch our tent under the bridge - what a 'place of power' that was (especially after an evening in the Kylesku).
Looking east down Lochs Glencoul and Glendhu is the 'Lost World' as we termed it, with no road for 25 miles. For thirty years we explored the Lost World thoroughly. We would get the tour boat that goes up Loch Glencoul to take us down and move in close to a large rock and we would jump off, with full packs. The tourists were always impressed but the skipper always shook his head and muttered something about us one day breaking a leg.
Then there was 'Betty', a waitress in the pub. She was 85 and told me fishing stories from her grandfather...but those can wait.
Best wishes, Dave.