Petestack Blog

Yes, there’s a conscious reference here to Where day first began from last year and it’s all about both going west again and a sense of renewal after being so late to launch I might not have. And if I ironically once more skipped North Uist, which Calum Macdonald probably had in mind when he wrote the lyrics to Cearcal a’ Chuain, it’s still absolutely meaningful to me. But this story more or less starts with Tarifa and Norway, so let’s start there…

There are reasons why I was late, late, late to get going. I was working on multiple boat upgrades for this (now next) year’s long-planned trip to Shetland. I was heavily involved in reviving the Glencoe Regatta for the first time since the COVID-19 pandemic. And I’d agreed with David last November to help him sail the Twister Tarifa to Norway in May so he and Carol could cruise Norway and Sweden without Carol having to cross the ‘Big Nasty Sea’ (her words) when ‘with the crossing comes the satisfaction of arriving after it’ (mine)! So David and I sailed direct from Inverness to Kristiansand (which crosses a lot of open water) before continuing up the Norwegian coast via Justøya and Arendal (where we picked up Keith for the day) to Risør, where I left the boat to return via Oslo Airport. Too much to cover properly here, but the initial 400nm passage took us 79 hours, sailing most of the way after clearing the Scottish coast with a scary thunderstorm on the second night followed by our most sustained spell of motoring through the third night and an absolutely cracking sail along the Norwegian coast on the final day. Then some amazing coastal rock dodging through places you’d never know existed, not to mention the beast of a cough I probably caught on the bus to Inverness but just couldn’t let ‘spoil’ the experience. And it was a beast, taking weeks and weeks to clear up!

While I’d already been working hard on both Fly’s upgrades and the Regatta before I left, I’d also had to start on an unexpected but fairly significant bulkhead repair before necessarily leaving everything in a state of flux for this trip. Then got nothing done on Fly for three or four weeks when I got back since the Regatta consumed all my time for a fortnight with the lurgy also leaving me unable to really get going further. Hence being ‘so late to launch I might not have’, the Shetland trip postponement and an alternative, somewhat less distant target of St Kilda coming into the frame. But that had to give way too for this year when, following a 30 July launch at Dunstaffnage, Mal and I set sail on 3 August with our promising late-season St Kilda window having just been squeezed out by more unsettled forecasts and another never materialising. So we chose to head up the east of Skye first where we might originally have gone straight for Lochmaddy, stopping at Drumbuie, Inverie (on which day we got very, very wet!) and Isleornsay before holing up at Plockton for three nights while an unusually sustained 48-hour depression blew through.

And this seems like a good place to stick my little cruise video which, as noted in its YouTube description, was cobbled together from mobile phone clips that were never intended for the purpose but still just about works, and at least starts bouncing around at Plockton even if it misses the 30-knot gusts!

But let’s just backtrack a little to post a few photos from the way there, showing my (retrospectively!) needless trip up the mast at Drumbuie, the tide at Kyle Rhea and the Skye Bridge as well as our mooring at Plockton on the more pleasant day (coincidentally the last of the annual regatta, with racing continuing all afternoon and evening) we picked it up…

So where next when you’ve not even left the boat for the second and third days because you didn’t fancy rowing ashore? It had to be Rona, which has been on my ‘most wanted’ list for decades and certainly did not disappoint. We had a decent sail up the Inner Sound before taking Caol Rona to arrive at the legendary Acairseid Mhòr, which, like its Eriskay counterpart I was to visit for the third time some 10 days later, is one of the most perfectly-formed anchorages of its type in the islands. And here we took another mooring with the facilities provided by the estate including the landing pontoon to which it was so temptingly close being excellent if a little ‘managed’, by which I mean signs and things pointing the ways they’re hoping you’ll go (see second photo) and at least sent me to the incredible Church Cave I’d otherwise have missed. So I went up Meall Acairseid and to the cave while Mal stayed on the boat to read before we both took a walk to the old settlement at Dry Harbour and the mini museum there I’d only found out about on returning.

After another mostly good sailing day when we saw a minke whale off the north of Skye and I took Mal through some intentional gybing practice (a tutorial, if you like) in the Little Minch, we fetched up at North Harbour, Scalpay, Harris the next night with thoughts of taking a bus to Tarbert in the morning to replenish our rapidly dwindling supplies before heading off somewhere for a last quiet night at anchor before returning at Tarbert to put Mal on the ferry home. But then it suddenly made more sense in terms of logistics and forecast to skip the bus and make do with what we had, so we headed for a lunchtime stop at the stunning Shiants, where we saw Adix anchored then leaving under sail but didn’t go ashore because it was quite gusty, we had pretty well all my rode out in maybe 15m+ depth and just didn’t want to leave the boat. The harbour master at Tarbert later told there me there’s a mooring in the shallower bit in by the isthmus, but we didn’t see it/weren’t aware and that’s also a rockier bottom for anchoring if you choose to sneak inside the strikingly constant deeper area. So don’t think we missed a trick and was happy we’d planned the securer-sounding Eilean Thinngarstaigh for that night. And this is a gem, providing a lovely little pool of appropriate depth behind a sheltering small island in the otherwise more open Loch Claidh in southern Lewis.

No photos of Thinngarstaigh (or some other nice anchorages) here because we didn’t leave the boat and the ones I took from her rarely capture what makes them special, but it was an easy short trip back to Tarbert via the Sound of Scalpay again for Mal’s last night. And here we finally got shopping as well as a superb meal at the Harris Hotel before waking to fog, the interesting recovery of a marine survey drone thing (covered in my video) and Mal’s foggy departure on the Hebrides (likewise). So did I wait for the forecast afternoon clearing of the fog before continuing down the South Harris coast? I did, but then it returned and I was literally almost at anchor in the cramped confines of Lingarabay before I could see the shore again!

So I could have continued to North Uist the next day, but chose to divert to Loch Dunvegan on Skye to make better use of the south-westerly wind and had a great sail over before somewhat more pigheadedly fighting my way back to Benbecula against something closer to a westerly the day after that. And I was curious about the anchorages there, having previously been to South Uist, Grimsay and North Uist but not Benbecula and not being convinced any of them sounded suitable. So I tried Loch Keiravagh, then Loch a’ Laip (where I might have stayed but for the fish farm raft moored near its head right where I’d hoped to anchor) before returning to Loch Keiravagh and continuing to the most sheltered shallower pool furthest in. And, yes, I’d go there again! Sorry no photos because, like I said, I took them but they’re not great if you weren’t there and I have to be somewhat selective when I took hundreds…

From Loch Keiravagh to Loch Skipport, but this time to Poll na Cairidh (which I thought excellent) rather than my favourite Wizard Pool although I did leave via the Little Kettle Pool and Wizard Pool. No sign of the rogue drifting fish farm cage highlighted by an unusual sécurité VHF call the previous day, so assuming they caught that and secured it again. Set off from Loch Skipport thinking Lochboisdale, but weather was quiet and I was tempted into the incredible Loch Eynort, which you might not go near if you only read the pilot books. But Antares Charts have more encouraging notes (following ‘the prize for negotiating what is traditionally regarded as one of the more challenging passages of the Outer Isles is access to some of the most stunning anchorages they offer’ with ‘in theory, the channels are wide and deep enough to accommodate the Loch Boisdale ferry ‘Lord of the Isles’ at LW!’), so I anchored up for a while in the outer loch to await the appropriate ‘slack’ (yeah, still measured in knots when I went through just before the turn of the tide) to tackle the Sruthan Beag. Might have stayed a second night to climb Beinn Mhòr (which has a similar relationship to Loch Eynort as Hecla does to Loch Skipport) if it hadn’t been consistently clagged in as shown by my photo below, but did at least visit all of what Antares terms the Eastern Anchorages on my way out the next day with thoughts of doing so from the most convenient at some future time.

Finally to Lochboisdale after that most worthwhile diversion and really needing stores again, but how things have changed since my only previous visit 32 years ago and I had to walk miles to the Co-op at Daliburgh to get what I wanted! That said, the new harbour/marina is a useful addition (with most welcome laundry facilities a fortnight in!) and the bakery does a fine sausage roll.

Now Eriskay’s another place I’d been (in 1994 and 1999) where my return was overdue, so one last short hop to get there knowing another windy day or two was coming and I thought there might still be two visitors’ moorings which I’d have known if I’d checked have in fact been gone a while. So I picked up the one obvious mooring there, read the tag attached to it, decided not to risk it in case I had to move off for the owner returning and initially anchored. But discussion with fishermen ashore told me the owner, who kept a lovely big yacht (of which more anon!) on it, had just left for the season, so I grabbed it on returning to the boat with thoughts of a good shore day exploring while the wind blew and second night before tackling a big day to Tiree in more moderate conditions. Might add that I’d also arrived to discover a much wetter engine compartment than normal after the grease cap for the stern gland (which had been well screwed down) had somehow shook itself right off and can only conclude that, while it still shouldn’t have happened and is hopefully a lifetime one-off, much idling (where you get more vibration than when driving) while I mulled over where to initially drop the hook can’t have helped.

So what about that good shore day exploring? On both my previous visits to Eriskay I’d walked over to the village, but with longer available this time I’d also noticed the island had four distinct hills. So I set off in the morning to do my ‘four hills of Eriskay’, which are 125m Beinn Stac south of the anchorage, 71m Beinn Cracabhaig east of it, an apparently unnamed 102m spot height north of it and then of course 186m Ben Scrien (where I saw the ponies) north of that. After which to the famous Am Politician pub (yes, named for the shipwreck that inspired Whisky Galore!) for lunch, albeit with a diversion to St Michael’s Church (where I remembered the boat bow at the altar) and the nearby beaches while I waited for a table, before taking the road back to the boat. And now I feel I know just a bit more of Eriskay with my ‘four hills’ covering much of the ground.

After four days of short coastal hops down from Benbecula and another ashore, I was keen for some open water and 20 August looked good for the crossing to Tiree with forecasts predicting a Force 4–5 run, which is basically what I got and produced a glorious goosewinged sail under full main (with preventer rigged to the bow) and poled-out genoa with Fly regularly surfing through eight and nine knots and once to exactly 10 as the breeze built beyond what you see in the video and fourth photo here. But, having taken the preventer and pole off with the wind coming increasingly from port as we approached Gunna Sound and left the tiller-pilot steering while I sorted something else, the damn thing let go and threw me into a crash gybe of the type I’d told Mal you never want to do! Which fortunately didn’t take the mast off, but did take my arm with it as I felt it happening and instinctively (but wrongly!) tried to flip the mainsheet back, which hurt. So this could have been nasty if I’d been injured as I briefly feared, and of course I found myself considering the implications for my continued journey if I couldn’t manage, say, the mainsail or anchor, but was able to keep sailing through Gunna Sound (to which I was already pretty much committed) before furling the genny, dropping the main and motoring the rest of the way to Gott Bay for some respite. Sounds bad, but you’re kidding yourself if you think it can’t happen to you when everyone I sail with will tell you how aware and controlled my deep-downwind sailing and gybing is…

So I’m in Gott Bay on the mooring nearest the pier, which I’ve noted before is quite shallow and I’d only take at neaps, and still not sure about my arm till morning, by which time it’s obvious all’s well. Another shore day was always the plan because, while I’ve been to Tiree before, I’ve never really spent any time there, so I set off to walk the length of the Traigh Mhòr (big beach, and it is big!), up to the Gunna Sound to look across to my beloved Coll (to which Tiree is so different despite such close proximity) and back via the twin north-side beaches of Salum Bay (where there’s surprisingly a yacht, probably a Sadler 29, on a mooring) and Vaul Bay to replenish stores again at the excellent Scarinish Co-op. And, like Eriskay, I’d like to think I’ve got just a little more of a feel for Tiree now despite clearly having plenty more to explore.

While I’d previously considered the possibility of taking in the RHYC Muster at Ardfern on 29 August on my way home and thought no because the forecast for then and especially the day or two after looked horrendous (did I see 40 knots?), it was at Tiree that the now obviously improving weather changed my mind. So what do you do with a week to get from Tiree from Ardfern? Head for Islay and Jura of course! And how do you really take control of that itinerary to give yourself time in hand for revisiting old places or exploring new en route? Sail straight for Jura of course… so that’s exactly what I did!

I like open water. I like tricky inshore places like Loch Eynort or the Ardmore Islands too, but open water’s where you can enjoy the ‘safe’ sea without worrying about the ‘dangerous’ land and why I’d committed so early and keenly to Tarifa’s Norway trip! But then again there are things to hit even in some quite open places. Like Dubh Artach lighthouse, which I saw from about five miles’ distance but wasn’t remotely a threat. And the Torran Rocks, which are kind of in the way if heading north of Colonsay, which is why I took the simpler southern route. For sure, we get pretty close to the other side of them on the Round Mull Race, but this was supposed to be relaxed single-handed cruising now!

So what kind of passage was this? The longest of this particular trip at 50 miles, less windy than the crossing from Eriskay to Tiree and I think basically a motor from south of Oronsay to anchor in beautiful warm weather (and water!) at Loch Tarbert’s first major constriction of Cumhann Mòr where I have previously (1995) been right to the head in a much smaller centreboard boat. But I was impressed to see the fine, big McGruer yawl Rinamara beating into the loch under full sail as I left under genoa and engine the next day and, yes (remembering that Eriskay mooring!), there’s still a story to tell here…

Next stop for me was the memorable jagged reefs and shoal waters of the Ardmore Islands previously visited in 1981 and 1995, but would I have dared take Fly in the northern entrance without the Antares chart? (No!) Then Port Ellen, which it turns out I have visited before, but on foot from Lagavulin on that 1981 cruise with my dad. And it’s such a pretty little town once you’ve escaped the current dredging/upgrading works for the ferry terminal and taken a walk along the beaches or streets either side of that. So did I ever take a Chinese carry-out back to Fly before? I doubt it, but certainly did on this occasion from Ellen’s Wok. And what about that Rinamara/Eriskay story? Well, here she was having also arrived from Loch Tarbert, it turns out to be her mooring I’d used and, my goodness, the Eriskay fishermen weren’t kidding when I’d imagined the lovely big yacht they told me about to be some generic volume production cruiser! Even better when I was able to say I have five fine photographs of her (the best of my whole trip) taken with a proper camera and can send you them when I get home.

So where from Port Ellen? Hadn’t been to Gigha for 45 years, but Ardminish wasn’t calling in the now-easterly wind, so how about Craro Bay on the west side of the island, thanks again to Antares? Where the anchor failed to set first time because I’d somehow got it gift-wrapped in its own chain to be effectively self-tripping (a first, never achieved before and hopefully never again)! Then Chapel Bay up Loch Caolisport, which is just lovely, but doesn’t look like anything till you’re right on it, so I was just going to take a look see and go back to Muileann Eiteag Bàgh before seeing and staying. Then Ardfern for the Muster, so another two-night stop with a interesting walk the length of the lagoon by road and back along the more awkward shore. So did I say this story more or less starts with Tarifa? Well, it almost ends with her too because David and Carol live right there, on the road along the lagoon, and I’d have stopped to see them if they hadn’t been away laying her up for the winter (and a return next year) near Stockholm. But look at my photo of the south end of the lagoon and it’s obvious why there’s only one main entrance for yachts… and this isn’t it! Also note Adix (again!) below the Paps of Jura, which is the main reason I’ve included that otherwise totally undistinguished photo.

‘Twas good to meet friends old and new at the Muster, where in particular being berthed next to John and Aileen MacDonald’s Freya with the legendary Bob Shepton aboard led to the final, ‘icing on the cake’ destination decision of this cruise. You see, Freya lives on the Loch Etive side of the Connel Bridge with a mast two metres taller than mine and I’d needlessly backed off just under four years ago with the charted clearance reduced by the temporary platform then in place before later concluding that Fly could always get through. So John suggested going in and I followed Freya through (at some distance, because she’d gradually overhauled me on the calm motor up) to anchor for my final night at Sàilean Ruadh a few miles in. Then back out in the morning and home to Glencoe (with Fly strangely visiting her own mooring for the first time in the season on 31 August!) before the weather really started turning again. So how did I find the Falls of Lora? Well, no falls when I went through at approximately LW springs one day and HW the next. In the conditions experienced, really no worse than Ballachulish Bridge, although it obviously can be. But really, people worry about that tidal gate too whereas those of us who go through it all the time just do it knowing when’s appropriate, I suspect Connel’s just the same for regular users like John and know I’ll be taking Fly again with considered confidence.

So that’s the rambling, inconsistently-documented tale of this blog just about done when there’s so much more I could have described or shown. A four-week, c.550nm mini-Odyssey to really test some new stuff like AIS, Echomax Active XS Radar Target Enhancer, replacement anemometer, solar panel, third battery (for the engine, to leave two for domestic), tiller clutch, fan to help reduce cooker fumes and the small holding tank designed and built by me as a game changer when cruising with company, with some like the new pulpit/pushpit-level nav. lights and spare tiller-pilot yet to really try and some like the inflatable danbuoy, MOB recovery thing and liferaft quite frankly hopefully a ‘waste of money’! Sobering that we sailed c.72% of this distance in four days (not weeks!) in Tarifa, but that’s proper passage making rather than day hops/night stops for you and there’ll be both on the Shetland trip. What I set out to do with this year’s fitting out was make Fly (as far as reasonably possible for an Impala) a ‘proper little offshore yacht’ and think I’ve succeeded. Assuming no more late-discovery horrors to repair next spring, we’re ready for Shetland! :-)