Fairwinds 2005

Day 10 - Rousay - Pierrowall (Westray) - 19 miles

Cast off the lines and were blown off the pier at 9 o’clock. Lots of wind first astern then abeam as we ran down to the cardinal at the South of Egilsay then astern again as we crossed the choppy waters of the Westray Firth, and we belted along under headsail only heading for Ferness Pint and the Calf of Eday. En route though the fore cast of further strong winds coupled with uncertainty about the anchorage in Calf Sound brought on a change of plan and we headed for Pierrowal on Westray instead. Coming abeam of the Southern end of Westray the wind began to come round forward of the beam, and we changed the sail plan to main with one reef and working jib sized genoa. Had a great sail along the coast of Westray in smooth water as the wind was on the land, but as we approached Pierrowall we were close hauled coming into the bay and had up to thirty knots over the deck.

It was still blowing a hoolie when we got into the harbour with its new mini-marina, and it was hard to avoid hitting walls and pontoons as we bumbled about getting the fenders and warps ready. A mighty blast of smoky reverse produced a reluctant response and saved the day, probably with spectators unaware of how close we had come to making a minor spectacle of ourselves.The very friendly harbourmaster took our lines and welcomed us to Westray with a wealth of local information and some leaflets. Tied up alongside 13.25.

After a spot of lunch we donned our walking boots and went for a short walk described on the ‘Walking Westray’ leaflet . . . not realising quite how tired we were. It was bracing and generally scenic, apart from the collection of abandoned Vauxhall Astras scattered about the machair, but we were glad to reach the pub abd down a pint of Orkney Breweries’ excellent Northern Light. The hotel in Pierrowall is renowned throughout Orkney for its fish and chips, with halibut, torsk, monk and catfish all caught that day on the menu. We decided to walk back to the harbour, shower and return for fish and chips.

The shower is free and excellent - long on water and heat, with no timer - damp yachtie heaven. Refreshed and clean we walked back to the pub. More beer, but a bit of confusion (they were very busy) resulted in it being an hour and a half before we were finally fed. It was worth the wait, however - the torsk (or tusk as they call it locally) was mouth-meltingly delicious and the chips were endless.

After eating we joined Helena, John and TC in the public bar. They had come in to Pierrorwall just before us on Joker, a Lossiemouth based Sadler 32. We had spoken to Helena and TC earlier, and I suspected that I might know John - the name Joker seemed familiar. I was right - it was the John Jones who had taught the Day Skipper night class I had attended at Aberdeen College in the Winter of ’96 - ’97. John had only come out of hospital in April after spending ten months being treated for cancer of the pelvis. Now with a large chunk of pelvis missing he was wheelchair assisted for journeys of more than a few yards, and this was his first big sail on Joker since his illness. It was great to meet up again, although hard to understand why life does this sort of thing at random to good men. The Lossie club had apparently antifouled and launched John’s boat for him then told him to get back on it, which he duly had. We shared a minibus back to the harbour and I went on board Joker for a nightcap, although Kathy had to plead exhaustion and retire to her bunk. John and I chatted for an hour and although he was obviously still in some pain he smiled throughout and was delighted to meet one of his former students out there cruising. I only hope that if misfortune ever strikes me like that I can bear it with equal fortitude - although frankly I doubt I would.