Fairwinds 2005

Shakedown

Two Day Sails - Part II

Could hardly bring myself to write this up since it was a catalogue of disasters and almost no sailing took place. However, the old year draws to a close and I should do the same for the blog.

Sunday 16^th October

It was clearly going to be a late start to the sailing and so as soon as I felt capable I motored round the pontoons to avoid having to contend with low water at “shoal corner” and tied up astern of Fairwinds until we completed the breakfasting.

We were tied up along the inside of the bottom of a wide “U” of pontoons with the current flowing across the jaws of the U. Silkie pointed uptide and Fairwinds t’other way. I motored away first and turned to run parallel to the uptide arm of the U. I could see that the tide was flowing swiftly but in a moment of hungoverconfidence (or stupidity if you like) I nipped below to fetch something, leaving the engine at tickover and the helm untended. When I returned I was alarmed to see that although we still pointed in the right direction we had almost been swept onto the downtide side. No harm done though and I motored out of the bay and made sail.

When I looked back I was surprised not to see Fairwinds since it had seemed that they would only be 5 or 10 minutes behind. I started to sail back after a couple of minutes though the tide was against me and the wind was light. I was only just inside the entrance to the bay (probably about half an hour after casting off) when I saw Fairwinds approaching. We sailed in convoy while Nick told the tale.

It seemed that he’d had a momentary lapse of Yachtmastership and allowed Fairwinds to stray outwith the envelope resulting in her being swept down onto the boat I’d so narrowly missed. Long keels are such fun in reverse. Proceedings were enlivened by a demented onlooker screaming entirely inappropriate instructions! Nick did the decent thing and posted his details aboard the other vessel before setting off again. When I returned I had a close look but could see nothing worse than a dirty mark and her owner obviously took a similar view since nothing has yet been heard.

We set off down the Firth in light airs with Silkie leading the way. I’m not exactly sure but suspect I was tacking with a sheet in each hand at the time. In any event, I was steering with my thigh when there was a crack as the tiller snapped off at the base and Silkie rounded up! Sadly, Nick did not have his camera to hand to record my stupid expression as I waved the ex-tiller at him. I lowered sail, fired up the donk and headed for home steering with the stub, initially. Nick kindly shepherded me back (just in case) and I fished the tiller after considering the possible swirlies at the entrance to the bay.

Now It Can Be Told Department.

I had inherited an emergency tiller with Silkie but after my painstaking (but entirely cosmetic) refurbishment of the beautifully laminated original, I considered that such an ugly, rusty lump was “Not Required on Voyage” and had left it at home this season! So much for forehandedness then. The tiller had clearly been gently rotting away inside for years and was mainly sponge. The killer blow had probably come the previous day (before I’d reefed) when I’d used considerable force to keep her straight in a bit of a puff.

A memorable end to the 2005 season!

Miles this trip 25

Total miles this season 863 (s/h 238)

Two Day Sails - Part I

Only a regular weekend this time out so I went up on Friday evening after work. Nick and Kathy on Fairwinds were sailing south from Ballachulish on Saturday and we’d arranged to meet on the water and return to Dunstaffnage together.

Saturday 15^th October

Had a late start and had to wait ‘til after (very) low water to get out. We ran before a fresh breeze across Ardmucknish Bay, making 5 or 6 knots and came onto a broad reach, initially, after turning north into the Lynn of Lorne. I suppose we’d had the benefit of an accelerated wind funnelling out of Loch Etive and as we went further up into the sheltered waters of the Lynn of Lorne it gradually eased.

By the time I met Fairwinds (with Eilean Dubh abeam) the wind had vanished altogether and Nick reported having motored and drifted all the way from Ballachulish after an early start to catch the tide under the bridge. We bobbed about only yards apart for a while. This was fortunate as we were able to speak after discovering that Nick’s VHF was only transmitting intermittently (broken microphone lead) and mine barely at all (dunno but suspect the coax/aerial joint at the masthead.) More radio checks required? - Discuss!

Nick took the first photo that I’ve seen of Silkie under sail and was understandably dismayed that I hadn’t brought a camera to return the favour! This became BlueMoment’s calendar pic for November in due course.

Seeing it later also sparked a train of thought about the genoa trim problem that I’ve been unable to resolve to date and I can’t wait to get out again to try out a wee change to the set-up. Fingers crossed for a mid-November break in the weather.

We gradually drifted into more wind, albeit variable in direction and as we emerged once more into the Firth of Lorne I could see that the wind there was just as fresh as it had been earlier and blowing straight out of Loch Etive (on the nose) of course. I’d been quite pleased with the way Silkie was going compared to Fairwinds in the lighter winds and foolishly tried to hang on to the full main. You know how it is. We weren’t racing of course, but..

The gusts were putting the rail well under (Nick reckons my bargain anti-foul has worked well this season!) and I was having a real battle with the tiller. When I could put it off no longer the reefing didn’t go smoothly and I had to return to the cockpit in the middle of the operation to sort out a fankle. I lost a lot of ground while this was going on and Fairwinds was well up to windward by the time I was sailing properly again. Nick has an anemometer and said later that we’d had 24 knots apparent at this stage.

However it was only about fifteen minutes later when it was time to shake out the reef again. Fairwinds had reefed just after Silkie (more out of sympathy than need I suspect) and was first under full sail again. The two boats were a fair distance apart by now and I’m not sure what happened but we either found different winds or Nick and Kathy let me “win.” In any event Silkie was a few minutes ahead as we entered Dunstaffnage Bay and I took their lines as Fairwinds came alongside. Very satisfying!

A few beers aboard Fairwinds were followed by dinner in the Frog where Nick and Kathy picked up the tab. Thanks guys. We returned to Silkie (since she has a shore-powered heater) for a nightcap or three.

Three Day Sails - Part III

Tuesday 4^th October

The forecast for Tuesday had been revised down to S 4 or 5 occasionally 6 and I set off again at 1000ish with a similar plan to Monday. With a good sailing breeze from the south I could hold a course straight down the Firth of Lorne and began to think about a circumnavigation of Kerrera. I’ve never managed to sail all the way through Kerrera Sound (in either direction, in any boat) and the southerly would give me a sporting chance on taking the “inside passage” back north.

Regular readers of this nonsense will know that I have only started single-handing this season and that my attitude to reefing has been strictly “.. when you first think of it.” There was a subtle change in my priorities on this occasion and though I have given it some considerable consideration since, I’m still not sure why. Anyway, we hung on as the wind increased until the argument for a reef could be ignored no longer and I decided to heave-to to reduce sail. This worked well.

I hadn’t wanted to go east of Bach island since this would take us very close to the south coast of Kerrera, a lee shore on the day. The story of Classic Wave, wrecked on this very spot (albeit through engine failure) in similar conditions only a couple of weeks earlier was fresh in my mind. My intention was to pass west of Bach Island and continue south for perhaps a mile before tacking to head for the southern entrance to Kerrera Sound.

I must have sailed over this little patch of sea (to the west and north of Bach Island) at least a half-dozen times without noticing anything unusual. However, the bottom rises from over 120 to 20-odd metres in less than a quarter of a mile and I was now riding the spring ebb up this slope into the teeth of a F5. The waves weren’t particularly high (not much over a metre) but they were very close together and spectacularly steep on both faces. We continued to make some headway but were probably travelling considerably further in the vertical plane than the horizontal. Poor wee Silkie was taking a hammering and it didn’t take long for me to make up my mind. “We sail for pleasure!” I quoted, again.

I pressed the pause button (this heaving-to is great!) briefly to think things through before bearing away on a broad reach NE. Immediate 7+ knot surfing set the scene for a rerr terr back up the Firth of Lorne. I even had the cheek to raise the whole main again in a brief lull when the speed dropped below 5 knots! What a blast!

The end result was that we arrived back at Dunstaffnage hours earlier than I had expected, at a very similar tidal height to our Sunday departure and with a very similar result. I reversed off and pootled round the moorings for 15 minutes before successfully negotiating the shoal at the second attempt.

Another great weekend! Learned loads again but still seem to have a long way to go before I can lay claim to even a modicum of sea sense.

Miles this trip 48

Miles this season 838 (s/h 213)

Three Day Sails - Part II

Monday 3^rd October

The forecast was SW backing S 4 or 5. It was Tuesday’s forecast however, S 4 or 5 occasionally 6 or 7 (I was slightly surprised they didn’t add the famous “perhaps gale 8 later” just to be on the safe side) that made me decide to stick to day sailing. I set off at 1000ish in light winds with no more definite plan than to tack down the Firth of Lorne.

The wind increased steadily and we managed 5.5 knots hard on the wind before it was time to reef. I’d just got her settled again and the wind was continuing to build when the ‘phone rang. It’s one of the more interesting “features” of mobile ‘phone technology that these absurdly incongruous conversations are possible. Kenny was sitting behind his desk and I had water on the side deck. Wonderful!

I tacked and reefed down again. Conditions were now moderately grim and we were making only 3.5 to 4 knots. The main sets well when reefed but the genoa does little more than resemble a sail when half of it is rolled away. I’d have given good money for a No.3 jib and an inner forestay.

Suddenly, I heard a “Pff!.. Pff!” like a heads up call from the starboard quarter and first one and immediately a second dolphin surfaced right in front of Silkie’s bow as they shot diagonally past from right to left. Porpoises are an everyday sight in these waters but this was the first time I’d had dolphins come to play. After a couple of moments they did the same trick again from left to right and back again and again, presumably swimming figures of eight across our course. Next they split up and began crossing in opposite directions. They stayed for only a few minutes but I was absolutely entranced and suddenly the day appeared in a whole new light.

As they made their last pass the sun found some thinner cloud and if it didn’t exactly shine it was at least visible as a white disc. It too was right on the bow and illuminated our course as a shimmering silver highway on the sea. What can I say? You can’t buy this kind of stuff!

Ten minutes later and it was business as usual again. We were approaching the coast of Kerrera and a nasty-looking rain squall came sweeping up the Firth. I decided to heave-to and let it pass. I’ve only really practised this before on Silkie so I was interested to see how it would work in a decent blow. I put her about so that we pointed back out to open water …and …relax! I don’t know if we were properly hove-to since we lay almost beam on to the wind and fore-reached at just under a knot but the change in motion was remarkable and the wind seemed to have eased about 10 knots. I thought about playing with the sails to see if I could get her to point a little higher. In fact, it was so restful that I just went below out of the rain to put the kettle on and make lunch.

After the squall passed I came back up (I had been keeping watch throughout - honest!) to enjoy my lunch in the cockpit while bobbing gently about in a solid F5. I talked myself out of any more beating. I may not be any kind of a gentleman but I can sympathise with their reluctance to go to windward. A direct return to Dunstaffnage would have been a dead run so I brought the genoa over and bore away on as broad a reach as possible instead. This set us on a course for the Lismore coast where a gybe let us beam reach back across the top of the Firth of Lorne at over 6 knots.

Another great day on the water!

Three Day Sails - Part I

Another four day weekend. Didn't bother rushing up on Friday evening since Saturday clearly wasn't going to be a sailing day. Sure enough there was a whole gale of wind and I've never seen the Firth of Lorne look so nasty. Even the Isle of Mull ferry was heeling noticeably.

Sunday 2nd October

I'd arranged to meet Nick (webmaster of this parish) and his wife Kathy to give them the opportunity to experience the delights of a sail on Silkie, weather permitting, and they duly appeared at 1030ish. It's always interesting when old salts come aboard for the first time and especially so if they are honest with their first impressions.

The first comment, immediately on putting a foot on the sidedeck, was on how tippy she is. Silkie and Fairwinds (Albin Vega) are both built narrow and deep but Silkie has a real "wine glass" hull with the consequent lack of form stability. I casually mentioned the three quarters of a tonne of ballast carried a metre below the waterline but I could see this wasn't completely successful as a reassurance. It had started to rain so we went below for a cuppa and discussed Silkie's compact and bijou interior. Making a cup of tea involved everyone aboard in musical chairs while kettle and mugs were retrieved from their lockers.

The rain stopped and it looked as if there might be a bit of a breeze so we made ready for sea and set off at low water springs precisely. I had been warned that it might happen on a very low tide but was still somewhat surprised when we gently ground to a halt off the SE corner of the pontoons. My first accidental grounding! It was only for the want of a centimetre or two and a little gentle manipulation of C of G allowed us to proceed.

Once out into the Firth I went forward to raise the main. I hauled it to the top but there was a fresh breeze blowing and we were going to be tacking. I can't remember who mentioned it first but we were all thinking about a reef and it was tucked in before the main was allowed to draw. I unrolled the genny and it was Nick who said "I think that might be about enough" with four or five rolls left to go. Looking back I suspect that my crew were slightly nervous about how this apparently tippy wee boat was going to behave in the fresh conditions. Fair enough! Nick took the helm first and although we were probably slightly under-canvassed in the foresail department and could have pointed a shade higher perhaps, we were making 4.5 knots on the wind in reasonable comfort and not excessively heeled.

We decided to take a mooring in Oban Bay for lunch and Nick showed us how he got his yachtmaster ticket by picking up the buoy under sail, at the fourth pass! (Correction: third pass- Ed.) After lunch, we sailed off the mooring and almost immediately the VHF spoke and we heard the inevitable "All vessels navigating in and around Oban Bay, this is the car ferry Isle of Mull. We will shortly be entering Oban Bay via the North Channel." The Isle of Mull was no problem but her buddy (was it Isle of Arran?) following behind was not so straightforward.

We were hugging the right side of the channel on port tack and needed to tack across to clear Maiden Island. This is a Narrow Channel and so "small vessels must not impede.." etc. but even if it hadn't been so, tacking under the bows of a ro-ro ferry is not my idea of a pleasant way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Nick was on the helm and his suggestion that we pinch up to slow down and let the ferry pass was eminently sensible until she inexplicably slowed right down to walking pace. Did they think they were being considerate or did they perhaps have a problem? We were left luffing closer and closer to Maiden Island and should probably have started the engine at this point. Right at the last moment we decided we could tack without causing consternation on the ferry bridge even although we were not yet level with her bow. We'd left it too late though and were caught in a windless hole under the steep windward side of the island. The genoa hung up on the baby stay and she wouldn't come round. A quick application of iron tops'l saved the day and we filled away on starboard tack. Had the boathook been to hand we could probably have achieved the same result by pushing off!

Back out in the Firth of Lorne we headed north again on a glorious broad reach in F4/5 and some fine surfing was enjoyed. I was tempted to suggest shaking out the reef but we were certainly not under-canvassed and the speed was frequently in the high sixes. We rounded up to drop the main before turning to scud downwind into Dunstaffnage Bay. Nick sailed her through the moorings until the very last moment when I fired up the engine and took the helm to bring her back alongside.

A fine mixture of conditions for Nick and Kathy for their first sail in Silkie and I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did. Nick made a couple of comments which were pleasing to an owner's ear. The first was during lunch, I think, when he remarked that Silkie seemed much bigger to him than she had when he first stepped aboard. The second, during the afternoon surfing session (and repeated during the post-cruise drinking session) was that he thought she could handle pretty much any conditions with the appropriate canvas. What a nice man! Maybe I'll follow Nick and Kathy on their "milk run" next year!

The Titanic Moment - A Confession of sorts

I dithered for some time before deciding to leave this section out of my last entry Another Solo Effort because I thought it a little foolish. However it seems like such a glaring omission on re-reading that I have decided to make amends with this Captain's Log Supplemental which belongs after the parentheses in the description of Tuesday 6th September.

The wind was a point or so free and the reefed sails were well-trimmed (if I say so myself!) with all my home-made tell-tales streaming aft in the fresh breeze. Visibility was improving and the sea was modest and regular. Silkie was well-heeled and beautifully balanced and when I put the tillerpilot on it immediately steered a remarkably straight course (it usually requires a few minutes to settle down.) On the pretext of raising my eye level to look for waves between Lismore and Lady's Rock (how sad is this; single-handed and I have to find a justification for doing something I want to do just for the buzz) I clipped on and clambered up to stand on the windward quarter, holding on to a backstay with my left hand.

Pure exhilaration! Silkie forged ahead with a bone in her mouth, half rising to the waves and half slicing through them. From my elevated vantage point she seemed smaller than usual but at the same time purposeful, resolute even, and immensely powerful. Sure, I had set her up before leaving the cockpit but now it felt as if she could sail on forever without any interference from me. I was as high as a kite and laughed out loud for sheer joy.

At that moment the air was rent by the sound of an unsilenced piston engine. I looked astern and was astonished to see what appeared to be a WW2 fighter, complete with olive-drab camouflage, roaring towards us and literally skimming the tops of the waves. As she passed perhaps 50m away I gave a huge wave and could clearly see the pilot return my salute from inside the cockpit bubble. I swear his (her?) head was no higher than mine!

In all I stood there for perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, rising and falling with the rhythm of boat and sea and drinking in every moment. One of those sails that you know will shine in your memory for years to come.

So there you have it. I hope it wasn't too silly but I had to let it out.

Another Solo Effort

Just back from another long weekend on my favourite little ship. Drove up on Friday night but didn't sail on Saturday. The forecast featured the "six" word and sounded as if it meant it. Still, I got a few wee jobs done; installed a new strong point in the cockpit (mostly for the benefit of the new puppy - don't ask) and some new tell-tales on the sails. I also discovered that the water tank which I had lovingly refurbished earlier in the year had sprung a leak again, big style, but you probably don't want to hear about that.

Sunday 4th September

The forecast was SE backing E 3 or 4 occasionally 5 at first (would it be OK if I said SE B E 3/4 oc 5 AF?) and so Tobermory it was. For those who haven't had the pleasure, the Sound of Mull is aligned roughly SE-NW. It was springs and so working the tides was significant, especially at the "gates." The ideal is to cross the Firth of Lorne on the last of the ebb, pass Lismore Light at slack water and carry the flood up the sound so I left at 1130 in brilliant sunshine. It wasn't long before I changed into my shorts, a first for this season and it's only September!

I was a shade early for slack water but a good reaching breeze carried me through. A large grey shape steamed up astern and came close enough to make me more than a bit nervous. I thought about my aerosol foghorn - just how much good did I imagine it would do me? This turned out to be HMS Walney and they made a clear course change in good time to overtake on my port side, coming out from the bridge to give a cheery wave as they drew abeam.

The Sound turned into a run as expected and I poled out the genoa. An unfortunate moment of indecision at Glas Eileanan was resolved without incident. I became aware of a larger boat astern and a "race" developed, aboard Silkie anyway. Amazingly they didn't catch us until after turning the corner at Salen but they obviously hadn't been trying. There had been a lull as we approached but the wind funnelling through the gap in the mountains of Mull really began to push us along. We'd dropped to 3.5 knots in the lull but surged ahead now to over six knots, even touching the magic seven for a few minutes. The tiller fluttered powerfully under my hand. This is probably caused by clapped-out bearings or the poorly-faired rudder repair I did last year but to me it only means that we're flying!

By this point Silkie was digging a large hole in the water for herself and superior length won out. Her skipper brought Blythe Spirit, a Dufour 34, within hailing distance and opened the conversation with "She's going well!" I was so chuffed that I could only manage banalities about where from and to (in mitigation I was concentrating hard on the steering at the time) and it wasn't until she was past and clear that I realised I should have replied "Not too shabby for seventeen feet on the water line!"

I missed another opportunity at the Doirlinn. It did occur to me at the time (but only at the last minute) that I could have dropped the main, rolled the genoa down to a scrap and sailed Silkie through with the wind astern, like threading the eye of a needle, but sadly I failed to seize the moment. Too feart again! Still, a cracking sail, especially the high speed hour at the end and 26 miles in 5.5 hours.

I've sailed the seven seas

And travelled every way

But there's nowhere near as beautiful

As Tobermory Bay

On this occasion the the tranquility was disturbed by a small cruise ship whose PA announcements informed all in the bay (and probably anyone rounding Ardnamurchan Point too) of the delights of their programme of entertainments for the evening while their poorly muffled generator ran all night.

Monday 5th September

I'd toyed with the idea of exploring Sunart but the wind looked set from the south-eastish and tacking all the way back on Tuesday looked like no fun at all. I sailed for Loch Aline. The wind was as variable as the forecast had suggested. We were hard on the wind in the freshest beeze of the day, sailing behind Eileanan Glasa (don't you just love the rich diversity of Gaelic names for rocks?) when I realised that a shade more tension on the main halyard was required. I was at the mast when the tillerpilot decided it wasn't playing any more. Silkie rounded up and lay hove-to. It was a confidence-building moment. We sorted ourselves out and continued. I rigged a bit of string so that the tiller could be lashed when required.

An amusing incident involving the bucket in the cockpit and the unexpected appearance of a very fast RIB need not be gone into in any detail!

The wind died away and I continued trying to sail long after any reasonable person would have resorted to the iron tops'l with the result that I had to motor against the tide for the last hour after the wind had disappeared completely. At least it meant that the tide was with me as I entered Loch Aline.

Only one other vessel came in later to share the anchorage. This was a large and very American-looking deck saloon ketch with a clipper bow and great cabin. Her gleaming white hull and acres of immaculate brightwork (including the wooden spars) were positively glowing in the late afternoon sun. The husband and wife team anchored smoothly without a word being exchanged (that I could hear anyway) between helm and foredeck. I suppose it was my own misplaced preconceptions therefore that caused an involuntary smile when a little marital bickering broke out later in the accents of Ken and Dierdre! I managed to get the tillerpilot going again.

Tuesday 6th September

I woke to a forecast of S 3/4 with fog patches at first (FP AF) and sure enough, although Loch Aline was only slightly misty, looking out into the Sound of Mull I could see a thick bank of fog which completely blotted out Mull, at sea level anyway. I rigged the radar reflector and waited. By ten I could make out the Mull shore and set off cautiously.

Out in the Sound I could see nothing up or down but could always see at least one shore so I suppose that visibility never fell much below about quarter of a mile. I couldn't help thinking about the possibility of passing two Calmac ferries simultaneously (Clansman and Isle of Eigg going in opposite directions) as had happened on Sunday. If this had happened in reduced visibilty would they have been too busy watching each other on radar to see little old me? 

On the wind on port tack, Yule Rocks bouy was the first mark to appear (and very welcome too) and I tacked at Glas Eileanan. Rubha an Ridire coalesced out of the murk and I tacked again. A major wind shift put me back on starboard tack on a course which I hoped would see us through and Lismore Light soon appeared on the port bow to confirm. The wind piped up now and I put in a reef and took a couple of rolls out of the genoa. We were going well and I was really starting to enjoy myself.

(For regular readers, I've now made my peace with the reefing arrangements on Silkie and can achieve a reasonable approximation of the right result with the minimum of fuss.)

As we shot through the boiling water (no waves though) we emerged into another world in the Firth of Lorne. The mist cleared, the sun came out, the wind eased and altering course for Dunstaffnage put us on a run. I shook out the reef, poled out the genoa and settled down to lunch in the cockpit. Bliss! Sailed into the bay before rounding up to drop sail. Still thinking about trying to sail onto the pontoon but it was too gusty on this occasion!

A great weekend. I suppose I would have preferred to have had crew aboard but I'm really starting to enjoy the single-handing too.

Miles this trip 59

Miles this season 790 (s/h 177)

Footnote: Readers who have had the pleasure of sailing aboard Silkie will be saddened to learn of the demise of the "kettle." A replacement is urgently sought.

The Seventeen Mile Reach

After years of strenuous negotiations Gerry and I had finally managed to arrange a long weekend aboard Silkie. We go back a very long way and coincidentally, Gerry owns a share in a bilge-keeled Hurley 22. Spookier yet, he and I had shared our very first sailing experience (in our early twenties) after deciding, for no obvious reason, to undertake a day's dinghy tuition in a Wayfarer on Loch Earn.

Friday 12th August

We drove up together and after a brief familiarisation tour of Silkie, set off mid-afternoon to go up the Sound of Mull. The gentle zephyr dropped away as we approached Lismore Light and we motor-sailed up the sound and into Loch Aline. The hook was comprehensively soaked (off the north shore before the beacon) and the sun long gone before we considered a run ashore.

Although there was still some light in the sky the path along the lochside was essentially a tree-lined tunnel. It was raining heavily and we were drookit by the time we arrived at Lochaline. After a quick recce we decided that it was too far to the hotel and settled for the Lochaline Social Club. Considerable interest was added to the return journey by a failing torch battery (note to self: always carry a spare when planning a four mile hike on an unknown route in the pitch dark) but it held out or we might have had to spend the night under a bush.

Saturday 13th August

The 1700 forecast on Friday was S/SW F4/5 increasing 6/7 for a short time then veering W/NW 4/5 then variable 3 on Sunday. We were hoping that the 6/7 would blow over before breakfast on Saturday but variable 3 sounded too much like a day of motoring back from Tobermory on Sunday. We discussed making for Puilladobhrain instead and in the end deferred the decision until we were back out in the Sound of Mull.

It was overcast and raining as we motored out with the second reef in the main to find a lively F5 which appeared to be blowing down the Sound. One look at the white horses to the north and the decision was made - Puilladohbrain for us! Rolled out half the genoa and found ourselves on a glorious broad reach, consistently making over 6 knots in a quartering sea. There was some luffing in the puffs and the occasional easing of the main but Silkie was loving it and the crew were pretty chuffed too.

As we rounded Duart Point (8.1 knots with a little help from the tide) we came onto a close reach and the wind began to ease. We finished our seventeen mile reach in well under three hours and with all plain sail set. Not too shabby for a waterline length of seventeen feet. I don't think Gerry was quite as impressed with the point of sail as I was but I can't remember ever having a proper reach in the Sound of Mull. It's always running or tacking. Definitely one of the top three this season so far.

Sunday 14th August

Sunday was fair and sunscreen was applied and although we sailed in a gentle breeze to begin with we resorted to the iron tops'l after half an hour or so. We went west of Kerrera in hopes of finding a breeze in the Firth of Lorne but were sadly disappointed and spent most of the trip sitting on the foredeck to get as far from the two-stroke buzz as possible.

Saw Gerry off on the bus (back to work) but I didn't go back out since there was still no wind to speak of and I spent the night in the marina.

Monday 15th August

The 0500 forecast was SW 4/5 locally 6 at first in the north veering west for a time. There was also mention of coastal fog later but I didn't pay any attention to that.  The following 24 hours was SW backing S 4/5 increasing 6/7 later. There was more talk of coastal fog but I didn't pay any attention to that either. Although I planned to be back in the marina by Tuesday I didn't actually have to be back to civilisation before Wednesday afternoon and so could afford the time to sit out any rough stuff, I hoped.

Set off south with a reef in but soon decided it wasn't necessary. We were on the wind and making good time down the Firth but the wind picked up as we passed between Kerrera and Bach Island and I decided it was time for my first single-handed reef. I'd been considering doing this while hove-to but in the end I just eased the main as usual and settled her on the tillerpilot with only the genoa drawing before going up to the mast. Admittedly I was doing this earlier than I would with competent crew aboard (following the principle that the time to shorten sail is when you first think about it) but it went very smoothly. The breeze continued to freshen (although probably barely into F5) and I pulled down the second reef. It was all quite comfortable and I felt inordinately pleased with myself.

Not quite so pleasing, although eerily beautiful, was the sight of fog pouring down off Mull and rolling over the water towards us. Suddenly the second reef  seemed unnecessary after all and I decided we could probably stand a bit more genoa too. In the end I was snugly anchored well before the visibility dropped below 100m. I didn't bother going ashore and settled down for the evening with a dram and a book instead.

Tuesday 16th August

Several (radarless) boats left during the morning though visibility did not improve significantly until nearly noon. I enjoyed an interesting afternoon sail home in variable winds and sailed as far as I dared into the bay. One of these days I'm going to try sailing onto my pontoon!

Miles this trip 65

Miles this season 731 (s/h 118)

Onward Virgin Sailors

Have been a bit remiss in keeping this up to date so a couple of catch-up entries are required.

Wednesday 27th July

Went up to the boat with my son-in-law Jamie for his first sail. Forecast winds were a bit brisker than ideal for a first sail and we had to be back on Friday so we weren't going to get far. The wind was a gusty F5 when we arrived in the afternoon and we postponed sailing until the morrow when there would hopefully be less of it. We passed the rest of the day with "Sailing 101" as the Americans say. How interesting was that, I wonder?

Thursday 30th July

Set off mid-morning tacking into F4 with a reef in the main and a couple of rolls out of the genoa but still heeled slightly too much for novice sensibilities as Jamie confessed later. The wind eased and veered and we came on to a reach and finally a run as we altered course for Puilladobhrain (again) round the south end of Kerrera. Dropping anchor went without a hitch and I was halfway through the second beer when a large yacht decided to anchor in the admittedly generously wide berth I had given our nearest neighbour. There were only half a dozen other boats.

 They made a trial run with the echo-sounder while enquiring about the position of Silkie's anchor and the scope we had out. On their second run they failed to set their hook and motored off down the anchorage. I suppose I assumed that they were going to try their luck elsewhere and went below to rattle some pans. Next thing I heard was Jamie calling from the cockpit "They've caught our anchor!" The newcomer had come round for another try, failed to set their anchor again and tripped Silkie's by motoring forward with their anchor trailing, hooking our chain as they went.

They apologised repeatedly while disentangling the ground tackle. We re-set Silkie's 20lb plough where it fell while they motored off an appropriate distance to try again. After eating we took a stroll over the hill where the other crew signally failed to buy us a pint!

Friday 31st July

Sad to say, I really don't remember much about the return to Dunstaffnage. A senior moment perhaps. I'll talk to Jamie and fill this in later.

Jamie hasn't been pestering me to go again.

Miles this trip 25

Miles this season 666! (s/h 93)