Back to "Normal"

The last three months became normal to us, but since coming back we've had to adjust to a different kind of normal.

We hired a car to bring all our gear home with us, stopping on the way back to look at a wedding venue. The next morning there were delays on the M25, so we ended up driving around the southern section to avoid the traffic, it seems nothing has changed. We arrived at home to see the front garden had thrived in the London weather, it was overgrown and just getting to the door, seemed like one of my short cuts on one of our many walks in the highlands.

Inside we were met by Gina, one of three cats we have, she didn't bound into our arms, in fact she didn't really give us any sort of welcome at all. Only after an hour or so did the cats seem to remember us. The shy one Roxy, seems to have lost a lot of her shyness and rather than making a dash for it as soon as we come round a corner, she'll now come to us for strokes. So shy was Roxy, that when Kirsty and I started seeing each other, there was a time when I doubted Roxy's existance. Now she's been sleeping by my side at night, when before she might only make it onto the corner furthest from my head.

The long weekend has been thoroughly relaxing for me, no weather forecast to worry about, no wondering what will break next, no having to make a headland at a certain time because of the tide. We returned the car on Saturday, did a bit of shopping and came back to clear the front garden in the afternoon. The greenery was reduced from the trees, bushes and hedges, and now sits in numerous bags waiting to go to the recycling centre. Gardening is a chore but you don't worry about what will happen if the wind picks up. While sailing is relaxing, there is always a "What if?" or two going around in my mind, being at home there has been none of that, and that's what has been relaxing for me.

There have been many other things to get used to and come to terms with. Getting up out of bed, rather than having to climb out, going to a bathroom as opposed to an area next to the fore cabin. Having a hot shower metres away from where you sleep, a shower you don't have to get dressed to use, you can just slip on your dressing gown and wonder down the hall. A dishwasher, a toaster and an oven that all work the way we've been brought up to expect. On Pixie, it seems perfectly acceptable to remove the contents of the fridge for a bottle of beer lurking in the coldest part at the bottom, back at home I can open the fridge, take out a beer and close the door. No longer to I have to spread the contents of the fridge around the boat, looking for a clear surface to put lettuce, cheese and other assorted cool items on, I can open the door and a beer is there to welcome me.

The memories of the cruise have turned rose tinted, mainly because the memories before Cape Wrath seems to have been replaced by the memories of Orkney and the relaxing pace of the Canals. There were quite a few times on the West Coast when Kirsty and I felt like we couldn't go on, asking ourselves why we were there? Neither of us were enjoying it, slogging our way to windward, and watching bits of our well maintained yacht break, bend or refuse to work. Me complaining about the weather, Kirsty longing for a bath. Not being able to go on deck that evening because it was too cold, too wet or too windy or all three. At the time we vowed we'd never do a trip like this again. We carried on, and now we are glad we did, we managed to sail up the north coast in a really bad summer, it's hard to imagine a worst summer to attempt a trip like we did. It's had to see another period when we'll go through something like that.

The other night we looked back at some of the photos I took. I'm a professional photographer, and will only take photos when I know they will come out well, therefore I rarely take photographs in the rain or while it's overcast, only when the sun shines. Therefore my photographic images always show the trip when it was sunny. While it wasn't dawn 'til dusk sunshine all the time (only around 4 days while we were cruising Scotland) the sun did make an appearance more than I seem to remember in my mind. There were of course times when the sun came out, but it was blowing 30 knots, and unless you notice a tree at a funny angle or white tipped waves there's nothing to show otherwise. I can also remember being in Tobermory, it was raining when we arrived, and gradually cleared up, the sun came out for 4 minutes while we were there, the photograph I have is of a sunny Tobermory.

Since coming back I've got rid of a load of clothes, having not missed them or worn them for the last 3 months I have no attachment to them. I have however had to think about what to wear again. On board, a T-shirt would last between showers and jeans would last a week. Now it's back to a daily shower and a fresh T-shirt everyday. I have to remember where my T-shirts and clothes are, having not used draws or wardrobes for three months. We didn't miss television at all, we watch 2 DVDs on Kirsty's laptop while we were away. I happily sat for 3 hours watching a GP, and Kirsty and I spent the same amount of time catching up on the Eastenders. It was nice to relax for those hours, and although we were never great telly addicts.

It was a trip of a life time for us. Now Kirsty is back at work and I go back tomorrow, it's given me a bit of time to reflect on the trip and what we gained out of it. Obviously I've gained a fiancée out of it, and there is no one else I'd rather spend my life with. As Kirsty said the other night to our friends " We had remarkably few rows" and it's true! We were living in close company with each other for 3 months, and we hardly ever spent any time apart, and I think we had about 3 or 4 disagreements in that time. When there were bad times one of us would be strong, we could rely on each other, trust each other, we knew what the other was thinking and any concerns they might have. Our disagreements weren't about anything personal, mostly they were more about the frustration of the weather and the situations we found ourselves in. By the end of the trip we were a great team, we knew each other's strengths and weaknesses, we enjoyed each others company, and we had both got ourselves through this great adventure together.

The sense of achievement is also something that makes me think. Sailing across the top of Britain was a great feeling, seeing the weather map of the British Isles on TV  last night and thinking we've sailed that far. OK if I wanted a bigger ambition we could buy a bigger map. But I think we've done something to be proud of, but that wasn't why we did it, we did it because we wanted to sail around Scotland, not to get a warm fuzzy feeling when we see a map of Scotland. I also feel very proud that we did it, just the two of us, and in a 32 ft boat. Many of the places we went to we were the smallest visiting boat in the marina, bay or harbour. There were times when we felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, physically and emotionally.

If I wasn't hit by a 12 tonne powerboat, and thought that I had died earlier this year, then I would say that this trip is the hardest thing I've done. Both physically and emotionally it has been draining. My accident has meant there were many things I couldn't do on the boat that I used to take for granted, from lifting our clothing storage bags around to be able to sit for any amount of time in one place while we were sailing. This made it harder for me on a physically level, there were days on the trip when walking was painful, let alone having to wind winches or pull up sails, and live at a 20º angle for a few hours of the day.

Emotionally there were times in Gairloch when we thought we were on our way again, gale after gale had gone through, our engine stopped, we got the fuel sorted, left again, only to find out we had blown the head gasket. Once over that, we found out the cylinder head was damaged, it seemed like an endless boxing match when we were already on the ropes, but no referee was there to stop it. One thing someone told me when I asked about long term cruising was "Everything happens for a reason" and after all the time we spent at Gairloch it's one of the places we have the fondest memories of, not because of all the problems on the boat, but all the people we met who helped us out.

This is the first time since May 22nd that Kirsty hasn't been more 30ft away from me for more than a couple of hours, and it's strange. If Kirsty wasn't around I had Pixie to consume my time, she's in Scotland, Kirsty is at work, I'm sat in the lounge with a sleeping cat for company. As nice as it is I think I'd rather be sailing with Kirsty.

The long goodbye

In Portavadie we met up with Muir, from Flamingo Yacht Charter. Kirsty has known Muir for years, and I met him a few years ago when we went sailing to Gigha, via Sanda and back via Campbelltown. It was my first taste of sailing in Scotland, and although we were storm bound in Gigha for a day, it was a great week, and one that planted the seeds for this trip.

Muir was bringing Dipper, one of his yachts, from the Crinan Canal to Flamingo's base in Largs. We ate at the excellent restaurant at Portavadie with Muir and his crew, before sailing back in company the next day. Well as close as a 38 footer and a 32 footer can sail together. To start with the wind was light and behind us, not Pixie's fastest angle to sail, so Dipper and her crew soon took the lead. I tried to sail the angles off the wind, but we were still left behind. As we turned left up the West Kyle of Bute, Dipper was waiting for us, and the wind was on the nose. 13-18 knots of true wind, conditions that Pixie relishes. Soon we were cross tacking up with Dipper up West Kyle, matching her speed, and sometimes pulling away from her. In 14 knots of true breeze Pixie was romping up wind under full sail at 5.8-6 knots. Great speed for a 32 footer. At the head of West Kyle we were able to ease sheets a little, but the flukey winds (and local knowledge) let Dipper slip by on the inside. She caught a few favourable gusts while we were becalmed.

As we turned down to East Kyle Dipper was away into the distance and even though we goosewinged the genoa and the wind had increased to 20 knots there was no catching Dipper now. It didn't stop us enjoying a great sail though. With full genoa and main Pixie was sailing well at 6-7 knots, but holding her steady dead down wind to keep both sails full was taxing. So we furled away the genoa and sailed under mainsail alone. We were sailing comfortably at around 6 knots, as the wind steadily started to increase. It went up to 31 knots true and Pixie seemed to be enjoying it as much as we were, her top speed was 8.5 knots.

One of the great things about the Clyde is that the waters are so sheltered, and that unless the wind comes from the south there are few waves, and none of the swell from the Atlantic. It all makes for great sailing conditions. Even blowing at over 25 knots for a few hours there were no more than a few 1 ft heigh waves to show for it. Great for us when Pixie can get stopped by bigger waves.

Less that 5 hours after leaving Portavadie we were closing on Pixie's winter home of Largs. It's the biggest marina we've been in on this trip. The staff are friendly and helpful, the facilities are good (that includes the showers) there is a large chandlery where, after loosing the dorade cowling on our second day in Scotland, we have finally been able to find a replacement. They sell Gaz and diesel and have free WiFi. In fact Largs has everything you could want of a south coast marina and more. From leaving our berth, we can be on the Clyde in open water in less than a minute. No south coast marina has such easy acces to such a vast rich cruising ground.

Today was hot and sunny and we spent the day cleaning Pixie, she might only be 32 ft long (actually she's 31ft 6 inches) but there's a lot of her to clean. For the second night in a row we ate at Regattas restaurant in the marina. Afterwards tonight we went to the Largs Yacht Club and watched the sun set from the 180° panoramic views that the club has over the Clyde.

We returned to Pixie, and toasted her with the reminants of a bottle of Highland Park, she did well, and looked after us through so tough weather. It seems a shame to leave her behind.

Luxury at last

3 months is quite a long time to be sailing around, and there is one thing we always look forward to in each new place we come to. The showers. We hop from port to port, like a bee, flower-hopping in the height of summer. We don’t go to harbours in search of showers, but we’re always hoping that the next facilities might be at least clean. More often than not we’re disappointed. We’ve seen the word “luxury” used to describe shower facilities too often, only to be let down, so when we saw Portavadie’s facilities described as luxury, we didn’t raise an eyebrow, or exchange hopeful glances. If only we knew then what we know now.

Yachtsmen, by their very nature, have a certain amount of disposable income. We do after all, decide to spend the summer throwing money in the general direction of our boats, however big or small they might be. Yachts aren’t cheap, so it’s pretty fair to say that sailors do enjoy the finer things in life, be that food, wine, whisky or all of the above. We’re not animals, although when sailing we’ll forgo certain luxuries like a good night sleep, a daily wash, and personal space for a good sail to a beautiful part of the world. However when ashore we like to resort to being human again. We’re not cavemen, although we choose to travel is something smaller and wetter, but with slightly more light, than the average cave. We do have certain standards of hygiene, but this simple fact seems to be forgotten by many places we’ve visited.

Unfortunately I can count on one hand the number of clean and tidy shower facilities on one hand. A good shower sticks out in our memory as rare events on our cruise. It shouldn’t be like this, all we ask is for somewhere clean to have a shower and somewhere cleaner to get dressed. More often than not, the changing area is wetter than the cubical where a powerless showers dribbles water at an odd angle. Getting undressed and then dressed while standing in a cold puddle of cloudy water, hair, plasters and toe nails really isn’t why I choose to come sailing. Our Crocs have saved our stomachs turning many times, small rafts of familiar cleanliness that float around while we shower. Crocs are self-righting, and will always land sole down when kicked off in the process of teetering on one leg trying to keep the legs of my jeans dry.

We try to erase the bad showers from our minds like bad dreams. Here are the places that stood out, not because one was better that the other, they all had their good point and bad. So here they are, in the order we discovered them.

The showers in Kilmore Quay, after a terrible crossing they stand out as being clean and tidy and stationary, they were new, with a beige tile thing happening and lots of room. The downside was they cost €2 for 2 minutes. So in a woke-up-late-bus-leaves-in-5-minutes style shower it’s just enough time for a hair and body wash before the time runs out. They do however give you a count down timer to watch15 seconds tick away as they warm up.

Next on our memorable list were the showers at Stomness. They were spotlessly clean on 5 days out of 7. They were roomy, especially the disabled shower compartment, and more like a modern shower room than a cubicle. They were mixed, which wasn’t a problem until you needed to insert your money into the timer. The timers were outside the cubicle. So once undress you had to pop a towel around you to start the timer, running the risk of bumping into a poor person of the opposite sex or a member of the public who had got lost from the ferry terminal waiting room.

The Duisdale hotel. There was luxury. But what else could one expect from a 4 star hotel? It had clean white towels, complimentary toiletries, your own room, a bar downstairs to wait for your partner, the bad news is that they cost £4.50 each, but we didn’t mind paying because they were clean and warm, only the power of the shower, which seemed to be wheezing at the effort of supplying all the water I demanded was the downside.

At Lossiemouth, the new shower facilities were good, free, cleaned regularly, powerful, with funky Mira showers that beeped and had a trendy blue light shining on the front. There were only two for the whole marina, and if we were berthed in the other basin it would have been a walk, but otherwise these were the sort of facilities we could get very use to.

Crinan was the last place to make it onto our list, the showers were large clean and powerful, everything was going their way until they stopped short of the 6 minutes promised. I was half way through a shave, Kirsty still had conditioner in her hair as the water ran dry. We spoke to the chandlery to let them know there might be a problem, and the refunded our money. Good service and good showers, while they lasted.

So that was our list of the 5 showers that had stayed with us in 90 odd days, not because they were particularly special, but because they weren’t as bad as all the others along the way. That was until Portavadie.

Portavadie has just raised the bar. OK they have a head start because the marine is only a couple of years old, but the first thing you notice about the gents bathroom is that they are warm and dry. No shallow end of a swimming pool was there to greet me as I opened the frosted glass door. The duckboards were quality wood, no trace of a previous occupant, it was though I was the first person to use them, and the floor was bone dry. The next thing that caught my eye was the size of the showerhead, large and round like a sunflower head sticking out of the wall, behind a glass door, there was no mouldy curtain to shrink-wrap you as the water comes on.


There was no timer to restrict the water, and a temperature control, not just an anonymous button that chooses what temperature the water will be. In the shower, with hot water cascading over me in a quantity that would dry a loch somewhere, I could still hear the music being played into the bathrooms, a shower listening to George Michael, rather than a man in the cubicle next to me. Getting out of the shower, was the first place I felt I could stand on in bare feet without a risk to my health. I got dressed normally, rather than if I was balancing over a bath of acid.



The sinks were spotless, with Arran Aromatics complimentary hand wash, not only that but there was also a hair dryer….and also a hair straightener! If I had enough hair to straighten I would have used it, not because I need it, but because it was there. I know what you’re thinking, that sort of luxury doesn’t come cheap. Actually it does, it was all included in the price of the berth. £21 odd for Pixie (at 9.6 metres) isn’t really that expensive. When you think about how much is spent on showers. One when you arrive, one the next morning, that £2/person for £4 for us. £17 a night for a stay in a marina, and usable “Luxury” Showers (note the capital L).

I feel at Portavadie, I’ve seen a glimpse of the future. And it’s LUXURY!

A fan of Arran

Waking up and looking around Loch Ranza and the mountains and scenery that surround this pretty little harbour, it's a great view to start the day. The ruins of a castle looking over the harbour and pergola style roofs of the distillery poking above the trees in the distance. The purple heather coating the mountains, heavy clouds passing overhead, patches of green on the hill sides where the sun has broken through. So much to keep eyes occupied. But from a boat you can only see so much, getting up into the scenery is a whole new way to experience it.

We decided to do a nine mile round walk, first over the hills to Laggan, then a walk around the coast back to Arran Distillery for a tour.

The walk started off easy enough up a gravel track with sign posts pointing the way. Soon we'd lost the track, which seemed to go through a hedge on the other side of a field, we followed where we thought the track went. The track got fainter and fainter and soon the only footsteps through the boggy ground were those of sheep. We were heading in the right direction but on the wrong track. We persevered until we met what was clearly the right track, carved into the hill side. The going was much easier and once over the top of a pass between two rounded peaks we were treated to a stunning view over the Clyde.

An August weekend in the Solent would have hundreds of boats tacking back and forth. On the Clyde I counted 17 yachts. More boats sailing than we have seen since May, the difference was that these yachts were well spread out white dots, rather than collisions waiting to happen.

We decended the 260 metres down the path to sea level. Groups of red deer and birds of prey could be seen if we looked carefully up to the peaks.


Once back at sea level we found a sheltered place on the stoney beach for lunch, before walking around the coast to Lochranza. The coastal path was more like rock climbing for beginners at some points as we clambered up, around and down the rocks. Other parts of the path were like walking across a lawn. As we reached Fairy Dell it started to rain quite heavily and we got soaked on the last mile or so to the Arran Distillery.

Arran's only distillery is the 5th smallest and also one of the newest in Scotland. Unlike other island malts Arran don't use peat in the drying of the malted barley, so it lack the smokey flavour of many other malts. It does however make it a very smooth malt, that's really quite drinkable.

With the 1530 tour full we booked onto the 1630 tour, giving us enough time to head to their cafe. The cafe do selections of whiskys as tasting platters. We went for their Old and Rare selection and an Arran cheese platter. Because Arran are a new distillery, only now 15 years old, they experimented a lot with different finishes. So the spirit would mature normally in oak barrels, but for the last few months it would be transfered to a barrel that had been used to mature wine or cognac etc. The Old and Rare collection, as the waitress confessed afterwards were a selection of whiskys that the distillery used to produce. So rather than the whiskys having spent time getting old in a barrel, these had spent time getting old on a shelf, and weren't necessarily a selection of their best whiskys. Instead of mature like George Clooney, we got old like Dad's Army. A little dissappointed we joined up on the tour. Even after visiting numerous distilleries there is always something new that can be gained from a tour. This time we learnt that around £8 of a 40% bottle of whisky goes to the tax man.

This tour finished in the visitors' tasting room, where we were able to taste some more whiskys from their range. Our earlier dissapointment was forgotten as we tasted our 3rd whisky, we repaid their hospitality by buying a couple of bottles of this, their tasty single cask bourbon finish.

Clear of the Canal

It's been an enjoyable time in the Crinan, a speed limit of 4 knots and overgrown greenery rubbing down the side of the boat, slows you down. Not to mention the unforgiving stone walls that they have for locks. Unlike a wooden pontoon there is no room for error, and Pixie has 1 small scratch to show where she's been. Luckily she didn't have topsides covered in canal slime the way some other yachts have.

We left the Crinan at around midday today to head south to Lochranza on Arran. The forecast was SW 4 or 5 occasionally 6, and it's a relief that the forecast is now bearing more of a resemblance to the weather we experience.

We had more than 30 knots over the deck at times but it was good to be sailing again. Canals are all fair and well, but Pixie was born to sail, and with a good breeze, and more importantly calm water, Pixie was positivly romping along at over 6.5 knots.


The wind was steadily increasing so I tucked in 1 reef, then as the wind built to over 22 knots I took in another, reducing the headsail at the same time. We were sailing comfortably and fast and then the wind died. We drifted for a few minutes until I shook out the reefs.

The wind then came back to 14 knots from nowhere and rapidly built to 30 knots apparent. Then eased to around 25 knots so I took in a reef and some genoa and we were on course for Lochranza. It was great sailing.

We picked up a buoy just as the heavy clouds dispersed, so now we're sat here in the sun, with a couple of swans after some bread


It's been good to have a boisterious sail today. The sheltered waters of the Clyde seem a luxury after the west coast, no waves, no swell, no scary tidal races. It's taken us ages to get here, but Pixie's new home waters look set for some excellent sailing.

Coast to coast

The weather on the west coast has been appalling. Luckily on the Crinan Canal it has been beautiful. We arrived at Crinan on Wednesday morning and having seen the forecast we decided to make the most of the 7 mile passage to Loch Fyne. We spent most of the rest of the day lapping up the sunshine in the cockpit, finally managing to top up the tans and read a few books.


On Thursday we ventured through the first lock and gently motored along the narrow canal. Unlike the Caledonian, in the Crinan canal you have to operate the locks yourself. With two people this is somewhat tricky, but by no means impossible. Initially we got lucky and went through the first 5 or so with another boat. Many hands make light work and we were getting through them at a good pace. We decided to stop after number 8 and went alongside a pontoon for the night. We ate well at the Cairnbaan Hotel and had a little too much to drink. Neither of us slept that well. This could have been due to the alcohol, or it could have been the torrential rain waking us up. We thought we were in for a whole day of it but we dragged ourselves up and through a few more locks. This time we were on our own. Graham was on the boat and I was ashore operating the locks. By the end we were well practised and I was relishing the challenge. By lunchtime the sun came out and it stayed out. We arrived at Ardrishaig at about 1700 and promptly relaxed with an ice cream followed by a beer.


Tomorrow we'll head back out to sea as we begin the last few days of our 14 week trip.

Sunny Scotland?

The anchorage at the top of Shuna was pleasant and peaceful. There was a light breeze from the south, and with our plan to head south it would mean that the trip down to Crinan would be under engine. We raised the anchor (without the tripping buoy today) and motored off towards Craobh Haven to refuel for our trip through the canal and on towards Largs.

We set off from Largs at 1200 motoring at 5 knots to get down to Dorus Mor, a narrow gap formed by an Island to the south of the Craignish peninsular. Tides through this gap can run at 8 knots, and with wind against tide is can get very rough, as photos in the guide books will testify. Today however it was a puppy compare to the wild dog it can be. We timed it just about spot on, when the tide turned on our favor we had a quick passage through and on to the entrance to the Crinan Canal. Compared to the Caledonian the entrance to the Crinan is narrow in comparison. The other difference is the way they handle the ropes. On the Caley, ropes are passed over the hook an back to you in a long loop, on the Crinan they prefer to have a bowline tied in one end and just have that over the hook at the side of the lock.

We had a nice surprise when we went top pay. We were able to upgrade our Caledonian transit licence to a two week licence which will give us longer to get through the Crinan and save us £20 as well. Worth considering if you are planning to do both canals in within a two week period of time.



We're now in the lock basin basking in the sunshine and taking it easy. There is very little breeze in here and looking back out towards the Sound of Jura, there's not much wind out there either.

When the sun comes out there really is no better cruising ground than Scotland. You just have to wait around for the sun, which can take a while

When paths cross

When we woke up on Monday morning, there was no trace of sunshine, in fact in the drizzle we couldn't see a lot at all. Gone were the mountains in the distance, gone was the view into the distance, a grey blanket of murk behind the land was all that was left.

We haulled up the anchor. I say we, what I actually mean is that our windlass pulled up the anchor for us. When I laid the anchor I was trying to get into the habit of using a tripping line. Not because there was a danger of catching an underwater obstacle, but because I thought it was good practice. As the anchor chain came in I grabbed the buoy with the boat hook, but it had a bit of weight to it, thinking it had caught around weed on the bottom, I left it in the water. I took in the rest of the anchor and pulled in the tripping line from the anchor. It started to come on board then stopped. I tried to pull it in from the other side of the bow, and still it was jammed. This left us in a bit of a predicament as we couldn't be sure the buoy and rope hadn't got caught around the prop, and the light breeze and tide were taking us towards the rocks. We unfurled a bit of the genoa to get us clear of the anchorage. I took the line around to the starboard side again, and gave the lie a tug. Nothing. I took the line back to the port side and pulled the line as far aft as I could, and with great relief the orange buoy popped to the surface.



We motored to Oban Marina and berthed for the day. The marina has free WiFi and a free boat to take you from Kerrera Island into Oban. The marina also has showers, described as a luxury facilities block. But they wouldn't be what I would call "luxury", OK if you'd just spend 6 months sailing around north west Scotland and these were the first showers you found, then agreed they could be termed a "luxury" but we had a shower two days earlier, and they weren't "luxury". The Duisdale Hotel, with toiletries and clean white towels provided. That was a luxury shower facility. Having to leave a hot sweaty little room with a toilet, toenail clippings, shower and random pole, wearing a towel to put your pound coin into the box ain't "luxury"! But enough ranting about the showers, the marina itself was good, although some dog owner could have done the marina a favour by cleaning the turd their dog left at the base of the shore power bollard. Ok that really is the ranting over with for now...

We had showers and took the free ferry service over to Oban where we had booked in to do the Distillery Tour. The good thing we've found about the Diageo distilleries is that all of their tours are different. The small but perfectly formed Oban distillery had a good surprise up its sleave in the form of a taste of a single cask 10 year old. Not blended, married or watered down it was a good whisky, and one I'd happily buy a bottle of if I could, alas it's not possible, it was a fine whisky though.

After the tour we bought a couple of bottles and headed off to do a bit of shopping. Kirsty managed to find a butcher (wearing a tie, which is a good sign apparently) and we stocked up on vac packed meat for the next few days before heading to Tescos to buy the food we couldn't source locally. By now it was really raining so we caught the ferry back to the marina.

The afternoon was (as sad as it sounds) spent on the Internet. I was uploading our routes on the Team Surv website http://www.teamsurv.eu while Kirsty was looking up wedding dresses. It was the first time we'd really be able to use the Internet on a fast connection for almost two months. I think we got our mooring fees worth of Internet use between us over what was left of the afternoon.

We ate ashore in the bar and restaurant, which are two separate companies, the bar is a shed at one side of the undercover area. The restaurant was a kitchen and food was brought from the kitchen, into the rain and then to us in the undercover seating. If you're a fan of seafood, I'm sure you'll love the food, but for a meat eater like me, the choice was limited, especially when their fryer was on the blink. Burger with potato salad anyone? No, me neither. Kirsty and I both had tasty stew, but at £9 it was a bit overpriced, even considering it's island location with great view over the harbour. We returned to Pixie and had a whisky.

It was a leisurely start to the mooring, we topped up the water and diesel (from our jerry can) and spent the morning on the Internet again. We didn't have enough time to make it to Oban and back again before it was time to leave.

The wind had been gusting in the harbour up to 20 knots and then nothing. As we came to leave the berth Kirsty slipped the bow, I put Pixie astern and cast off the stern. Before we could go astern the wind caught the bow, blowing it down towards our neighbour. I increased the revs, but this had the unwanted effect of throwing Pixie's stern into the wind, and swinging her bow further down wind. Eventually the prop started to pull her stern out of the berth, just as the bow swung past the boat next door. We clipped her dan buoy, but luckily nothing else. We both breathed a sigh of relief, it was close, but we didn't do any damage, which was the main thing.

We hoisted our main and set off down Kerrera Sound. It was sunny, but the breeze kept coming and going, but once clear of the lee of Kerrera Island we had an enjoyable sail south. We crossed our path on the way up, so we have kind of circumnavigated the highlands of Scotland, well some of the highlands. The wind eventually died, then came back at 18 knots on the nose. Into a bit of a swell and chop. After motoring into it for about 10 mins we were able to ease sheets and head for Cuan Sound. Only a few hundred metres wide, the tide rushes through like a river, the water doesn't know where to go, and navigating at speed is fun, if slightly nerve-wracking at the time.


Once through the water flattened out, and we were left with 16 knots on the beam for our sail to the north of Shuna Island. Where we are now...With a whisky

Sailing away from Orkney - Video

Here's a video from sailing off Orkney, listening to Julie Fowlis

When East Meets West

It was a still morning on the canal when we woke. Ben Nevis was reflected in the calm black peat laden water. Out on Loch Linnhe the west coast the water was blue but had the same mirror like finish. The houses at the base of Ben Nevis really gave a scale to this giant that, until you're close, you rarely feel.



Originally our plan was to get to Oban. So we entered the lock at 0910 with Hexadex and motored out onto the West coast of Scotland 20 minutes later. Our plan was to motor against the north flowing tide and reach the Corran Narrows as the tide turned south, this would carry us all the way to Oban. It worked, as we approached the narrows our speed over the ground increased and we were on our way south west with the tide helping us. There was no wind, a clear blue sky from horizon to horizon. Kirsty and I struggled to remember another day on the water like this since we entered Scottish water.



It seemed a waste of a day to spend it tied up on Oban Marina. I'm sure there is nothing wrong with Oban Marina, but when it's a bright beautiful sunny day, a quiet anchorage seems to fit the mood. We found an anchorage about 5 miles north of Oban, just south of Lismore Island, in a small group of islands. We anchored off Eilean nan Gamhna at around 1430 and spent the rest of the day relaxing to Johnny Walker and Paul O Grady on Radio 2. We cooked dinner, then went on deck with a bottle of wine to watch the sun set and the mountains glow red in the distance.



It's now getting dark, and I've seen my first star since the June 21st at Inverie. One great day dulls the memory of quite a few bad ones. Good night

Staircase to heaven

On Friday morning Hexadex the Southerly 42 rafted along side us and we cast off from the pontoon and she towed us alongside to the top of Neptune's Staircase where we would wait for the package, containing the replacement rocker shaft, to arrive from Gairloch










There was nothing else we could do to the engine until the part arrived. David and Judith and Hexadex did a great job of towing us down the canal and drop on and dropping us on a free pontoon. Safely tied up we went off to find the lock keepers to tell them we had arrived. When our engine failed we let British Waterways know, and got an address where we could get the part sent. Every lock keeper knew of our plight and were keen to find out how we were doing and if they could help. We also found out we were on the wrong side of the canal for shore power. Without an engine and with little wind in the canal we had no way of charging the batteries. We inflated the dinghy, strapped it alongside and put the Suzuki outboard on the dinghy and set off on the trip across the canal.

One benifits of our new location was the view of Ben Nevis (Nevis is gaelic for heaven)








Although the summit remained illusive for most of the time, when it was visible, it was special.

With nothing else to do we headed off into Fort William to do a bit of shopping. Firstly I needed to buy a set of circlip pliers. These are pliers that would help me get the circular clips off the rocker shaft. I'd tried to open the clips with allen keys and now have a pair of slightly bent allen keys to show for my efforts. So we needed the pliers to do the job. We also had to get some food for the next couple of days.

The next mooring we woke early in anticipation of the package arriving. We waited. Kirsty went for a shower and I waited. I read. I played on my iPhone. Kirsty came back from the shower. We waited some more. Around 1100 a beaming lock keeper arrived with the package. I cut the packaging open and there in the box was a complete rocker assembly sent from Ric in Gairloch. I took the rocker arms off and put our existing ones on. Bolted it all back on the engine before adjusting the valve clearances the way Willem had taught me. I re checked them and turned the engine over by hand a couple of times, everything looked fine. I fitted the rocker cover and ran the engine for a couple of cycles with the decompression lever across to stop the engine firing. Again everything seemed fine. There was nothing left to do but cross my fingers and hope for the best. I turned the key and the starter motor didn't engage properly. This happens occasionally so was nothing to worry about. Again I held my breath and turn the key. One cylinder fired, closely followed by the other and the engine was going. I'd just fixed the engine on my own.

It was too late to get out to the west coast, but we could get down Neptunes Staircase. We had lunch, then walked over to see Ray on Charisma, who we'd last seen in Gairloch. I went to see the lock keepers about getting down the staircase, they said the were waiting for another boat to arrive, so he'd open the gates and we could go in first.

Going down the staircase we were the only two yachts going through so we were suddenly the centre of attention. Kirsty had lots of people talking to her while I sunk lower into the lock, only to go into the next lock at talking level, only to drop out of talking range again. It was warming to hear a young boy say me "That's a nice boat" I'm not sure how vast his knowledge of boats was, but he obviously knows a good looking boat when he sees one!

By the time we were in the bottom lock, a coach load of Spanish OAPs had turned out to see us lock out. This was slightly delayed as a steam train has to pass before the could open the road and rail bridges. We were going to stop for the night at the last pontoon before the double lock down to the sealock. The yacht behind us was going down, after stopping for a quick pic we thought we might as well go to the basin before the sea lock as well.

A waiting game (or stranded in Gairlochy)

So here is the update on the engine. Bukh did not have the part in stock and it would have taken a week to arrive. Not really a great solution given we have to be home in two weeks. But once again our friends in Gairloch have come to our rescue. Last night Graham had emailed Jackson (the Gairloch harbourmaster) to let him know what had happenned and to get a contact number for Ric in the hope that he may be able to help us source the spare part. By 9.30am Jackson had already spoken to Ric and left a voicemail for Graham. Ric will put the part in the post tomorrow (we had already missed the Gairloch collection time of 9am). If we are lucky it will arrive on Saturday, if not then we'll have to wait until Monday. In the meantime Charlie Menzies, a shipwright who lives on his junk on the next pontoon along, had a look at the engine. He felt that there was nothing more sinister wrong. That was a relief.

The lock master here has also been very helpful, but there is not much he can really do. Our plan is to head down the canal tomorrow to Banavie which is a bit closer to civilisation and to the sea lock where the part is being sent. Some more helpful people on a Southerly yacht have agreed to tow us down the 6 mile stretch of canal.

In order to try to take our minds off the whole situation we took ourselves on a walk to Spean Bridge. The walk was lovely. The destination was not. More tourist tat and over-priced, poor quality food. Even Graham rejected the cake on offer in the woollen mill/whisky shop/tea room. I know you get places like that in every tourist trap in Europe but it really is a shame when this country has so much more to offer. The Scottish government should shut them down and give local communities the chance to profit from the opprtunities on their doorstep. You only have to look at Gairloch as a shining example of what can be achieved - great food, lots of choice and at fair prices. And not a furry haggis or faux cashmere tartan rug in sight!


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Yesterday all our problems....

This morning and all the way up until around 15:40 this afternoon all our problems seemed so far away. Now unfortunately it looks like they are here to stay.

We were happily motoring along at 5 knots the engine was puttering along as normal, then instead of puttering it went putter putter putter bang putter bang and stopped. We checked the engine visually and then the oil. Nothing seemed amiss. I tried to start it again and all was not well. So in no wind we put the sails up. We had 6 miles to sail to the end of the loch. The wind came and went and was flukey. One minute there was no wind, seconds later we were tearing along in 18 knots of breeze. It took us a few hours to get to the end of the loch and into a depth we could anchor.

We tried sailing up to a mooring pontoon, but the wind died and we'd have to turn a corner with the wind on the nose and a had narrow channel to tack up, then a hire boat came out of the rain. We waved them down and they were able to tow us to a pontoon.

A whisky and curry later I thought I'd take the rocker cover off and see if I could see any problems.

This is what I saw



The rocker arm shaft has sheared. We now have the task of getting a replacement, and getting on our way again.

Hopefully it has't caused or way caused by any other damage.

Just when things were going well for us at last. Boats eh?

Slowing down

We have been on the canal for 3 days now. It has forced us to slow down and enjoy the ride. It's nice to have no tide or strong winds to bother about. The landscape is idyllic - mountains shrouded in cloud, overhanging trees draped in moss, deer grazing and families of ducks. At each lock we come to we are greeted by a friendly lock keeper - always happy to chat, they come from all walks of life. Although the locks are all hydraulic these days they were once manually operated. The old mechanisms still remain as do the lovely old lock keepers' cottages - reminiscent of the Bridgekeepers Cottage on the Forth & Clyde canal where I grew up.

Last night, after a very rainy trip up the flight of locks, we moored up at Fort Augustus. Being at the western end of Loch Ness it is extremely touristy and certainly not the highlight of this trip! The shops and pubs have a captive audience of people willing to pay for bad service, mediocre food and the odd tacky souvenir. Having said that we had a fantastic meal at the Lovat Arms Hotel. The place was recommended by the skipper of Blueberry of Lorne who we met in the locks the previous day.

This morning we woke to more torrential rain. After picking up some supplies we headed on up the canal. Just ahead was the Lord of the Glen, a luxury cruise ship that tours the Great Glen and the West coast. It was a pretty tight fit in the locks. When we got to the next lock the lock keeper was just finishing his breakfast. Apparently every time the Lord of the Glen passes through the chef hands him a full Scottish breakfast for his trouble! We are now waiting to get through the Cullochy lock and into Loch Oich. Unfortunately it is lunch time so nothing much is happenning!

And here we are entering Loch Oich


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Locks and lochs

It was a wet and windless start to this morning in Cromarty when we left the mooring at 0700. We motored out of the entrance to Cromarty Firth against a slight tide, but once on our way to Inverness we had a good tide with us - a knot a a half most of the time, but passing Chanonry Point we had 4 knots of tide with us.

Chanonry point is one of the best places in the UK to go dolphin spotting from the land, and even at around 0830 in the morning there were a small group of people out to see them. We weren't disappointed either, with three groups of dolphins around Pixie as she passed by.

We slowed to 4 knots, but we were still making 6 knots over the ground, and we were in danger of getting to the sealock of the Caledonian canal too early, when a strong cross tide would be flowing over the entrance. We arrived at 1030 ish.

In the end we had to wait until 1045 for a 50 foot boat to arrive before we could enter the lock. We were welcomed by the Clachnaharry lock keeper who talked us through what to do and how to do it. Giving us a gentle induction into the process of rising in a lock. With the water at canal height we were all invited inside to pay for the transit permit to allow Pixie to travel on the British Waterways Canal. At £16.80 per metre for an 8 day pass, it's not cheap, but it will take us to the west coast of Scotland to the point where we were almost two months ago. So in that respect £160 odd pounds seems quite reasonable.






Before we entered the canal it had been raining, but once in the sea lock it stopped. Initally our plan was to stop at the marina and explore Inverness, but with the sun out and a couple of boats going up the Muirtown flight, it made sense to continue up with them, otherwise we would have had to wait for a boat coming down before we could climb the flight. A lock is two lock gates that enable a boat to travel up or down different levels of water, like getting into a lift. A flight is where the top lock gate is the bottom lock gate of the next lock.






We got to the top of the Muirtown flight at 1300 ish and carried on until the last lock before Loch Ness. The speed limit in the canal is 5 knots, but we slowed down to 3 knots so Kirsty could cook bacon, lettuce and tomato rolls for lunch, before we had to moor.

The canal offers a complete change of pace. No tides to worry about, no rush, just a chance to take is some great scenery, and relax.

Another day another port

Our time in Lossiemouth flew by, as time seems to when the sun is shining. We did a few loads of washing, Kirsty treated herself to a hair cut, I paid the berthing fees, replaced the gas bottle and finally found a copy of Yachting Monthly. It's been quite strange not reading Yachting Monthly for so long. The last copy I bought was in Bangor, in June, and I haven't been able to find another copy until yesterday. Having been a part of every issue since I joined in 1999, and seen the issues put together, it's weird seeing a strange issue on the shelves. It's also weird having to find a copy and pay money for it.

After lunch, Kirsty and I walked around quaint Lossiemouth. The sun was out and the weather was hot, so ice creams were required.

In the afternoon Kirsty's parents joined us, and we sat chatting in the cockpit until we went for dinner. We finished up with drinks on board until Elke and Dave went back to their hotel.

This morning we had two options for a departure time. We had to leave Lossiemouth with enough water to get out of the harbour, and time our arrival in Cromarty Firth so that we had the tide with us as we enter the narrow entrance. We came up with two times 0130 in the morning or 1330 this afternoon. No prizes for guessing which time we chose!

We had a bit of a lie in before Kirsty's parents joined us to say goodbye. We topped up with fresh water and then I set about moving the fuel filter. I'd already moved it from the back of the engine to the front to make it more accessible, but this time I moved it lower down. Whether moving the filter back to a position it had been before might have caused the air leaks, or whether moving it lower would make the life of the fuel pump easier by not having to pump diesel up from the bottom of the tank when the fuel is low, I don't know. Willem the mechanic from Gairloch suggested I move it lower down at some point, so this afternoon that's what I did. As usual it took longer than expected, but we still left on time.

One of Pixie's traits is that she doesn't like going backwards, well not in a controlled way at least. The good news is that it's predictable which way she will turn when we put her in reverse, the bad news is that she will only reverse to port (left). This made coming out of the berth interesting. Luckily Lossiemouth harbour is very sheltered, unluckily we needed to reverse to starboard (right) so Pixie would be pointing the right direction to go out of the harbour forwards. As we reversed out of the berth, what I thought would happen, did. Pixie ended up between the rows of pontoons facing in the wrong direction. So I then had to turn her around so she was facing the right direction. It must have looked strange to anyone not familiar to how prop walk effects the way a boat handles. The easiest way to describe it, is to imagine reversing out of a car parking space in a car park in a car that will only reverse to the left, when the way out is also on your left. Therefore you have to do a 7 (or more) point turn in between the rows of parked cars to get you car facing forward so you can drive out normally. It all went to plan in the end, and as soon as we were out of the harbour we got the sails up. The forecast was south east and the wind was from....north east, while we were going north west, and it veered to east when we were going west. The sun was out and for a few hours to start with we were both in our shorts.



We poled out the genoa and ran dead down wind for 6 hours before arriving at Cromarty just after 1900. We had hoped to stay on the small harbour for the night, however when we arrived there was a small motor boat on the pontoon in the deepest part of the harbour and a yacht with its tender tied alongside. Where is a harbour master when you need one? There could have been enough room in the harbour for a couple more yachts if it wasn't for the actions of those skippers. Such a shame as it looked like a nice little town. I wasn't about to take Pixie in such a small harbour with no clear place to moor so we opted for one of the yacht clubs visitors' mooring instead. The view isn't bad, though it would be better if there weren't a few half built oil rigs in the Firth. Even so their size form a distance is still impressive.

Heading South

The forecast for the trip down to Lossiemouth didn't look that promising. Light winds from the south or south east meant it would be a motor all the way. We topped up the diesel tank and set off just after 0930.

As predicted the wind was light to non existant, so we motored on glassy grey waters with laden clouds overhead. Apart from spotting a basking shark there was nothing much to report until the breeze increased at about 11 am and we were able to sail at 5 knots on course to miss the Beatrice Oil Field out in the middle of the Moray Firth. A bit later Kirsty could hear an engine noise coming from somewhere. We looked around, nothing on the water nearby. Still we scanned the horizon, still nothing but there was definitely an engine somewhere. Seconds later we were buzzed by an RAF Tornado at what looked, from where we were sitting, at mast height. Sneaky pilot had come up from behind our genoa on our leeward side, turning to pass our windward side. I'm sure it wasn't at mast height, but it was low and loud as it flew past.

The wind held out, and increased as we started closing on Lossiemouth. It was about 15 knots true, so on the wind we were getting around 20 knots on deck, but we were going well with full main and a few rolls in the genoa. The wind came slightly too south for us, leaving us around 1/2 a mile down wind from the harbour mouth, so for the last bit we put the engine on.

The entrance to Lossimouth Harbour looks straight forward on a chart. But what you don't get is the scale of the walls you're about to enter. Locals fishing off the pier head look down on you as they pull fish from the water. Once in the mouth the wind dies and you are left to motor what at first appears a maze of walls. It's all straight forward, however when for the last eight hours our horizon had been 20 miles away, and now it was just metres, it felt strange.

Lossiemouth used to be a busy fishing port, we're moored infront of the fish market at the moment, but most of the fishing boats have gone and the doors on the fishmarket have rusted closed. The two basined harbour is now almost full with pleasure craft like our own, and Lossiemouth has a vibrance about its clean tidy streets. There is alfresco dining on the harbour front, miles of sandy beach and a steady flow of visitors to this appealing town. The marina facilities are good, the showers are new and clean, and the harbour is looking to the future to make the most of the space they have.

Lands End to John O' Groats

We woke to a beautiful sunny day in Kirk sound. This needs mentioning because we have had far too few during our time in Scotland, so it made a nice change to look up out of the forehatch and see blue, rather than white, and for the first time in ages open the hatch without fear of getting rained on. It's nice lying in bed with the hatch open, the world behind Pixie reflected in a mirror image in the Perspex hatch. This morning Pixie had gained a friend during the night. Reflected in the hatch was the silhouette of a small black gillimot sitting on the coach roof. I managed to get a few photographs from out of the hatch and some from the cockpit before it flew away.

The tide started to run south at around 1330 that day, so it left us a bit of time for one last Orkney Ice Cream, and a bit of shopping. We moved Pixie to the otherside of the bay, inflated the tender and went ashore.

Near the Italian Chapel is the Orkney Wine shop, selling Ice Cream, Orkney Fruit Wine, Celina's Jewllery, Scottish chocolate, and other local crafts. When we first met Celina, after she collected us from Stomness, she told us about the fruity wines and confessed a liking of their Strubarb. Strubarb, if you haven't guessed is a blend of strawberry and rhubarb. We bought ourselves a bottle, and left one as a surprise for Celina, along with a thank you card. We then just had enough time to eat our ice creams before heading back to Pixie.

With Sprite the tender safely stowed, we upped anchor, put up the mainsail and set off. During our time in Scotland I have been haunted by a tune sung in gaelic we've heard on the radio on folk nights quite a few times. Attempts to find out the artist and the name of the song (which, of course, is in gaelic) using the iPhone application Shazam have failed because the recordings are live and while Shazam is good, it doesn't work with live unrecorded music. So it was with some delight that I heard the tune played on Radio 2 recorded at the Cambridge Folk Festival and we were able to get the artists name. She's called Julie Fowlis and the song is called Hùg Air A Bhonald Mhòir. Thanks to the wonder of the iPhone I can increase the size of my music collection at anchor in a bay off Orkney. Many hours later when the album had finished downloading we were able to listen to her album Cuilidh. This happened to coincide with us leaving Orkney. The sun was shining, the wind was behind us and we were leaving the islands we'd spend so much time (and money) trying to reach. The sun light made the green islands glow on the way out, once clear of the sound and on course we got out the cruising chute for the first time since we reached Scotland around mid June. Gaelic music on the stereo, fond memories of beautiful, mystic and secretive Orkney, the sun glowing from above, blue sky, deeper blue water, a fair breeze, Pixie sailing effortlessly under her brighlty coloured cruising chute, and my fiancé opposite me smiling away. It has to be one of the best times of the trip for me so far. After everything that we have been through, that was one of those special times that seems to make everything worth it. I would say it's priceless, but unfortunately Kirsty and I know more or less how much that moment has cost us, and that's not including the engagement ring!

Like all good things it came to an end the wind came around slightly forward of the beam, and we had to take the cruising chute down, then once we were south of John O' Groats the wind faded, we sailed for as long as we could, it was rewarding to know we had sailed from one end of the country to the other.

Eventually the wind died, it clouded over and started to rain. Heavily.


We got to Wick around 1930 before seeing what Wick had to offer. Secretly we hoped for fish and chips, but in reality it was a very cheap curry and beers from the local Wetherspoons.

Wind magnet

Last night we had a cracking burger each at Helgi's which overlooks the harbour in Kirkwall. It was a fine burger and left us full up. This morning we went and stocked up on our provisions from Tesco before setting off to catch the east going tide from Kirkwall.

The plan was to sail around to Wick, a 9-10 hour sail. The forecast was west or southwest 4 or 5, which was how it started off, we had a nic. Sail with a south west 5 as we headed north to "The String" as we were sailing along at around 6 knots through Shapinsay Sound. We were going well all the way down to Mull Head, at which point the wind backed around to the South. On the nose for the 8 hours to Wick. We sailed for around an hour until we reached our course line south. The wind was a steady 12 knots. We then had to make a choice, keep beating out east with fingers crossed the wind didn't veer to the west again. Or put the engine on and motor south into the wind. We chose the latter. There wasn't any swell or much of a sea, but what small waves there were were enough to scrub some of Pixie's speed. The going was boring, and we weren't looking forward to 7 hours of it. So we changed course to Holm Sound to anchor in Kirk Sound.

We headed west, and the wind went from South to South west, so we altered course back to go south. A few minutes later the wind came on the nose again. Enough was enough, we pointed Pixie west again, the wind followed us around 5 mins later, coming around and blowing from the west, before fading.

We're now anchored in Kirk sound, and the wind is blowing 14 knots from the west. Perfect for sailing south to Wick, but now the tide will be against us!

So now we're relaxing at anchor in the sound where a German U Boat snuck through into Scapa Flow and sunk the HMS Royal Oak. To stop this sort of thing happening again Churchill got the Italian POWs to build barriers to enclose Scapa Flow's eastern side and link the island to the east together. The barriers have created two anchorages in Holm Sound.



Very nice they are too

Sparkly things

Kirsty has had to wait since June 18th for a proper ring. A ring not made of tin foil anyway. Along the trip I have tried to make something a little bit more hard wearing from twigs, electrical wire, etc but none of my attempts last.

When we arrived in Orkney our first job was to commission a real ring from local bespoke jeweller Celina Rupp. Yesterday, on the mooring off Eday, Kirsty got the call she had been waiting for. Her ring was ready!

This morning we left the mooring at around 1100 in order to catch the favourable tide down to Kirkwall. The wind was just off the starboard bow, but just fine enough to sail around 40° off the wind. True wind was about 12-15 knots when we set off so we had a great sail south. No waves, no swell, it was like being in the Solent, except it was empty and beautiful. The sun was shining and Pixie was eating up the miles with ease. The wind built slowly to around 21 knots true, so we reefed the genoa and kept going. With the tide under us our speed over the ground was 9 knots at times, it really was a good sail.

We tied up in Kirkwall and went for lunch. Celina arrived at 1500 to pick us up and take us to her house and workshop. Kirsty had been nervous about seeing the ring, and Celina admitted in the car that she was nervous too. After all if you see a ring and like it, you can buy it. But commissioning a piece of jewellery from thin air is different, we only had some rough sketches and faith in Celina. We needn't have worried though, the ring looked stunning. Sparkly and unique.



Unfortunately the camera on my iPhone really doesn't do the ring or Celina's work justice.

It is beautiful.

A day on Papay

Regatta day in Westray is a big day in the island's calendar. Unfortunately with Pixie in full cruising mode she's not spritely, we carry 200 liters of water, have a 20 kg windlass and 65 kg of anchor and chain, we have an outboard, wind generator, radar pole, dinghy etc we also only had a few days on Westray, so to spend the day racing would have been a missed opportunity to look around the island. While all the boats were racing we went to the RNLI stall on the pier, bought some raffle tickets and cakes and set off on our tour of Westray. The reason I'm backtracking slightly is that I usually buy tickets for the RNLI raffle out of support for what they do rather than to win a prize. Although having said that I did once win a gallon of Famous Grouse in an RNLI raffle some years ago. The first prize (and I thought only prize in this raffle) was a hamper full of goodies from Westray and Orkney. There were however some more prizes in the raffle as we found out that evening. A gentleman came down to Pixie with a box that we'd won in the raffle! With some excitement I opened the box and found a pair of mugs.



They don't go with anything else on board Pixie, but we'll remember where we got them from.

That evening we went to the pub where we got chatting to the crew of Harmony, before leaving them and going the the Westray Regatta Dance. Kirsty was disappointed she didn't know any of the dances, I was slightly relieved. While at school, Scottish pupils are taught Scottish country dancing on the run up to their Christmas Dance. So being brought up in England I didn't have the foggiest was was going on. It was all very impressive that a full age spectrum of the community can hit the dance floor, dance in coordination with each other without crushing each others feet in the process. Everyone seemed to know the dances and it had a really good friendly atmosphere. We cycled back at gone 1am in darkness with no lights on our bikes. There was no traffic around at all. Not something I'd recommend in other parts of the country though!

The next morning came far too early, although it was 9am when we woke up. We had to catch the 11am ferry to Papa Westray. The harbour master also works on the ferry over to Westray's smaller neighbour. We took the bikes and just after we arrived it started to rain. If the next ferry wasn't until 1700, I think we'd have gone back to the boat there and then. It was a cold and miserable ride up to Holland Farm where the rain finally stopped. We took the bike down the track to see the Nap of Howar, the oldest standing homstead buildings in Northern Europe. Similar in age an appearance to Skara Brae, it didn't have a fancy visitors centre or paths that must be adhered to, instead it was in a neatly mown field and we were free to walk around and into this ancient monument, and really get a feel for the small space inside these two small stone buildings.



The we retraced our step back to Holland Farm where we had a look around the small but facinating Bothy Museum. It gave a really good insight into how life would have been on a farm on Papa Westray in the early 1900s.



From there we cycled down to the beautiful white sandy bay of South Wick, where we left the bikes and walked alongside the turquoise waters with seals keeping an eye on us.


Back on the bikes again and we went to the airport, where the shortest scheduled flight in the world lands at 2 mins from Westray it's in the Guinness book of records. Next it was off to St Boniface Kirk before heading to the RSPB reserve at the north of the island. We sat in the hut on the hill looking at all manner of birds from Skuas and Gannets to Red Shanks and Oytercatchers. All too soon it was time to catch the ferry back.

This morming we pottered about on the boat before we left Pierowall at around midday to catch the southgoing tide to Ferness Bay on Eday. Only around 12 miles away, it puts us in a nice position for getting to Kirkwall tomorrow. The wind was 6 knots at the begining, but we were in no rush so we sailed down wind reach the heady speed of 2.8 knots until the wind incresed to 8 knots then we were sailing gently along at three and a bit knots. Once clear of the skerries we went through the unsurveyed waters towards Stanger Head, home to Puffins and lots of othe sea birds. We'd been told the it's possible to sail close to the cliffs, but I still kept a few hundred yards off them, although apparently if you keep outside the creel buoys you'll be in plenty of water, but don't blame me if you crash your boat!

The breeze picked up to 10-12 knots and we had a really nice sail today, and if you've been following the blog you'll know how much that means because they have been far to few of them over the last two months. With the wind on the beam and the tide under us we could have kept going for hours, but Ferness was too few miles away and we got there in no time. We dropped the sails and were just about to anchor when I noticed a big red mooring buoy to the south east. In Orkney visitors buoys are red, and sure enough we'd found ourselves a visitors buoy that we didn't know about. We tied up to it and have spent the afternoon relaxing on board.