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.

Day 9 - Rousay

Slept late then woke to a westerly wind blowing at 25-30 knots, spinning our anemometer furiously but not the wind generator, which was low enough to be sheltered by the pier. Put another line on and blew up the big orange inflateable fender we bought on Ebay (an online auction house, not an island . . .) then went for a walk on the nature reserve and up the hills. (Rousay is the hilliest of the outlying islands, with the exception of Hoy to the South of the Mainland)

Back to the boat for a traditional Fairwinds (tinned) haggis supper and a bit of mindbending passage planning making sure we could get a ride on the tide all the way to Westray the next day without encountering any nasty swirly things en route. Finally to the pub for a few pints of Northern Light and some interesting crack with local fish farm workers. Learnt a new (to us anyway) term for yachties - WAFIs (which stands for ‘Wind Assisted F…ing Idiots). All in good humour, with a lot of mutual banter between the aging hippy barman and the Rastafarian Shetland fish farm foreman. Apart from fish farm redundancies conversation centred around the proposed fixed link to the inner isles of Rousay and Shapinsay from the Orkney mainland. Those incomers who have moved to an island because they want to be on one have a diametrically opposed view to locals running a business there with all the extra cost and hassle being on an island involves.

After one last drink bought for us by the local fish vet, who was bemoaning the lack of housing for single people on the island, we retired to Fairwinds for a sensible 9 o’clock departure in the morning. Wind still blowing 25-30 knots, but we slept just fine.

Day 8 -Stromness - Rousay 29 miles

You have to get the tides right to sail in Orkney waters . . . tides run up to eight knots or more in places, and ferocious ‘rosts’ or tide races form in various key channels at certain times. We left Stromness at quarter to three, a couple of hours into the ebb in Hoy Sound, with a view to catching the first of the flood through Eynhallow Sound about half past eight that evening. We left with a reasonable breeze, alhtough there was a fog bank hanging about in Hoy Sound which had been there most of the day. As we left it cleared, and a pleasant trip seemed to be in prospect.

Until we got out into the sound and into the tide that is . . . then the wind died and we found ourselves motoring into vicious two metre high breaking waves as we negotiated over three miles of some of the nastiest overfalls we had ever encountered. There was a little wind over tide, but essentially this was just the normal Atlantic swell meeting the ebb pouring out of the Sound. The engine only just gave us enough power to maintain steerage way in these steep seas, although the GPS showed we were making seven knots over the ground.

Finally we were through the overfalls and nursing the engine, which was threatening to overheat again. What little wind there had been now dropped away to next to nothing, and we had to get the main down to prevent it flogging itself to death. (Although we do have a new mainsail on board - must get round to trying it out sometime).

The wind threatened to blow a couple of times, but for most of the rest of the trip we motored slowly . . . the four or five knots of tide we encountered going through Eynhallow Sound was most welcome, and not an overfall in site. (Most of the rosts are worse on the ebb than the flood)

The lack of wind meant we were much later than we had planned, and ended up motoring up Wyre Sound in the gloaming trying to spot the visitors mooring we knew was there. Finally we spotted it - quite easily, as there was a yacht on it. The area round about was full of moorings, so we pulled in to the East side of the Rousay pier and tied up. Most of the piers in Orkney have one or more yacht berths available, and can provide snug shelter if you get it right. We felt quite smug as no sooner had we tied up than a strong westerly wind got up and roared down the sound, hanging us nicely off the pier in a little spot of shelter while the yacht on the mooring began to pitch uncomfortably.

Day 7 - In Stromness

Showers were the first priority - there are excellent toilets, showers and washing machines in the ferry terminal building just up from the marina. Toilets are accessed using the marina number via a keypad, showers are accessed via a swipe card obtained from the harbourmaster (upstairs in the same building).

Kathy did some shopping in the big Co-Op just up from the marina, then we had a look round the town. The narrow main street is paved with flagstones and there are many cobbled closes and flights of steps leading up to the residential area of the town, including the surprisingly named Kybher Pass. We visited the museum - well worth it, full of fascinating stuff on the links between Stromness and the Hudson Bay Company, on whaling, the Orkney lighthouses and much more.

Ate out at Julia’s Bistro just opposite the marina - superb local lamb, great thick slices in a delicious gravy with a fantastic selection of veg.

Day 6 - Kinlochbervie - Stromness 73 miles

It was a dull but dry morning when we left the pontoon at 5 am. By 05.40 there was enough wind to sail, and we were running in a moderate swell with prevented main and poled out genoa. An hour later we had to knock it on the head - as the wind died away and the rolling increased the sails flogged and so we motored towards Cape Wrath, now benefiting from a knot and a half of tide.

We rounded the cape inside the Dulsic Rock at 08.30 and picked up a good wind - twenty knots or so westerly, and we were off running at five knots or more under headsail only, plus two or three knots of tide. An hour or so later the wind dropped and we put up the main, gybing the pole a couple of times and finally settleing down on a broad reach in a building swell. Had an excellent sail under autohelm for a few hours, then mid afternoon had to take the main down as it was flogging too often, and motorsailed the rest of the way with poled out genoa adding a little to our speed. The engine temperature stayed below 80 for a change, which was a relief.

After a lot of rain, drizzle and mist the cliffs of Hoy appeared out to the gloom a few miles ahead and soon we could make out the Old Man of Hoy in the weak evening sunshine. Hoy Sound has a good write up in the Orkney CCC pilot, but it was a pussycat - the main complaint being that the tidal assistance we were looking forward to didn’t happen until we were almost there.

Alongside in the fabulous new marina in Stromness just after ten o’ clock. Our friends Colin and Julia were tied up in Jacobea, a Mirage 36 ketch, on the next finger. On board Jacobea for several glasses of wine and a few tips on cruising Orkney. (The Jacobites had been in Orcadian waters for a fortnight, and were about to head back round Cape Wrath).

Day 5 - Lochinver - Kinlochbervie 27 miles

Got up at eight and by nine was off on the resumed quest for alternator guidance. The man in the shed up the road turned out to have gone to Barra for the week, so I tried the second recommendation, the lifeboat coxswain. He turned up in the middle of breakfast and removed the alternator, replacing it with the ‘new’ one - which didn’t work either. He assured me that the alternator was the problem, and that the other one must be knackered as well. A nice guy, and he wouldn’t take any money. I was not convinced that he was right however, and found yet another dodgy connection behind the switch panel. It was a big red lead plus an earth onto something that might have been an external diode pack, or it could have been a dilithium crystal for all I know. Anyway, after emery paper and spannering we are mysteriously charging again.

So - off we go just before midday, deciding we can’t be bothered going over to the fuel berth, finding the harbourmaster etc . . . destination Kinlochbervie. By one o’ clock a familiar story unfolds - the wind drops away and we are motorsailing at a breathtaking three and a half knots. Lunch is the mackerel Kathy caught the previous night coming into Lochinver, blended with a warm bean vinaigrette salad - delicious.

At Point of Stoer the wind picked up and we managed to kill the engine and sail for a couple of hours, then motored for a further hour to Handa Island where the wind picked up again and we had a good sail for another hour. Finally we knocked it on the head and motored into Kinlochbervie, arriving at an tying up alongside a couple of plastic dinghy things at the pontoon at the suggestion of the only resident yachtie. We could of course have chosen any berth along the acres of uninhabited harbour wall - Kinblochbervie is a ghost port now, built with EEC money during the boom years when first East Coast boats then the Spanish landed thousands of tonnes of fish weekly . . . but now only three boats fish out of it and it’s a bizarre industrial wasteland in the middle of some of Europe’s most spectacular scenery.

It was Friday night - we would be lucky to get any diesel before Monday, and planned to be off round Cape Wrath bound for Stromness, but luckily the resident yachtie sold us twenty litres of diesel so we were sorted - alternator still charging, tank full and the Kinlochbervie Hotel tempting us with the first meal out of the trip. Steak and ale pie and a couple of pints of Stella and we were ready for the turning point. (Norse meaning of Wrath apparently).

Day 4 -Badachro - Lochinver 37 miles

Got up mid morning and had a leisurely breakfast of the mackerel caught the night before on the way in, then poked around with the alternator a bit - took the old one off and found that the spare had completely different contacts on the back. Dinghied into the pub at lunchtime and asked the barman if there were any alternator-savvy mechanics in the vicinity. He gave me the phone number of the garage in Gairloch, and I returned to the boat after having a wee play with the dinghy in the river that comnes in beside the pub, hoping to flush a bit of fresh water through the outboard.

We got the anchor and set off to motor the mile or so to Gairloch, intending to get the alternator looked at and spend the night there on the pontoon but . . . mysteriously, the alternator starts charging again, the wind is up, so a snap decision and it’s off towards Lochinver. (No, honestly, the passage plan is all in place - in my head).

There was enough wind to goosewing all the way to the entrance to Lochinver, where the wind eventually dumped us at ten minutes to eleven. We motor sailed in and tied up on the pontoon and guess what - the alternator has stopped charging again!

A kind gent named Ian took our lines then helped us move the boat to a better berth. This involved moving a line from a fishing boat, but Ian assured us this would be OK (and it was . . . but I probably wouldn’t have dared move it myself). Ian was waiting for a friend coming in singlehanded on a Fisher 34 from Loch Nedd, up past the Point of Stoer. We invited him on board for a dram while he was waiting. Ian had been involved in the recent Assynt community land buy-out, and talked of plans to put a marina in Lochinver. He was an ex trawlerman and knew the skipper of the Norlantean, the boat in the best selling book ‘Trawler’ by Redmond Hanson which I had just finished. Before the dram was even finished his mate Alastair turned up in the Fisher and we tied him up. This resulted in an invitation aboard for drams and snacks and some entertaining conversation. Another late night ensued, with the crew of Fairwinds getting to bed at half past one.

Summer Cruise Day 3

Day 3 – Armadale – Badachro 58 miles

We slipped Armadale at 03.30 – or rather, I did – off watch crew remained tucked up in her pit in the forepeak. Grey and drizzly and very little wind, with a tide to catch at Kylerhea which turned Southwards at 08.00 – so it was motorsailing – 3.5 knots from the donk and a half to one on top from the rags, with one anxious eye on the time and the other on the temperature gauge. Woke Kathy just before Kylerhea, and we passed the ferry slip at 07.00. Once out into Loch Alsh the wind picked up, but bang on the nose for Kyle. Tacked down until we were opposite the pontoon, then went in and tied up. WE pulled Fairwinds back to the Eastern end of the pontoon to leave plenty of room for others – couldn’t get on the short side of the L because a friendly couple in a big motor cruiser from Bangor were there.

Five minutes after our arrival a charter boat arrived and took a high speed right angled run at the pontoon, swerving away at the last minute and missing it by miles. On the second attempt the skipper succeeded in ramming the pontoon at two knots with the bow at an angle of about 30 degrees. A hapless crew member scrambled ashore with difficulty from the bow, which the skipper was holding in position at the same angle of to the pontoon with copious amounts of throttle, rendering normal disembarkation difficult if not impossible. I offered to take a stern line, but none was prepared and I was told my help was not required – he informed me that he had to ‘lick this crew into shape’. Who on earth hires yachts to these people?

I went ashore to try to remedy a gap we had discovered in our chartage – the right hand panel of our Imray C66 turned out to be missing, so no coastline from just North of Applecross to Gairloch. The ‘Marine Store’ in Kyle told me I could get charts in Inverness,so I decided we could manage without. I have an electronic charting package on the laptop, so decided just to scan the gap for obstacles and put in waypoint.

Arrived back at the boat with fresh softies to be served fried new tatties, bacon and egg plus toast and marmalade. Scoffed the lot and retired for a couple of hours kip. Some hope – the place is like Picadilly Circus. First I was disturbed by a big Nelson 44 motor yacht roaring into the gap between us and the now parked charter yacht – very professionally handled, but lots of noise and diesel exhaust. Dozed off again only to hear someone calling ‘Fairwinds’ (Kathy was away shopping at this point). It was the glass bottomed wildlife boat asking us if we could move before they came back in as we were in their spot. I assured them we would be long gone – by now I had given up any thoughts of sleep and just wanted to leave. Kyle pontoon is a great place to drop in for a quick spot of shopping, to fill up with water or even to have a shower – but not a good spot for a quiet kip – better picking up one of the visitor moorings over at Kyleakin if you need a couple of hours in your scratcher.

By 11.00 we had left the pontoon and by 11.30 the sails were up and we were tacking over towards the Crowlin Islands. The wind looked good for a close reach all the way to Gairloich once we cleared the Crowlins, but the wind turned out to be blowing pretty much straight down the Inner Sound. Big tacks made slow progress in what was just not quite enough wind, and once we left known space chart-wise we put in one last tack out towards Rona then put in a waypoint and motor-sailed the last fifteen miles or so, taking over four hours to do so. Another great day for Volvo – now the alternator wasn’t charging the batteries. Dropped anchor at 10.35 and had the dinghy blown up, engine on, into clean underwear and in the bar within 30 minutes. Great beer. Both agreed a new engine is a necessity not a luxury, and began hatching schemes to pay for it. (You may hear more of this later, dear reader).

Summer Cruise Day 2

Lochaline - Armadale 48 miles

Got the anchor and motorsailed out of Lochaline just before eleven – a late start, but we needed the rest after the excitement of getting away, the diesel trauma etc.

Turned into a nice day, plenty of blue sky and a light breeze aft – poled out and goosewinging it, but a couple of miles before Tobermory it went flat calm and the engine went on at 3.30. Apart from twenty minutes or so tacking in frustratingly light breezes it remained on and we motorsailed until we were abeam Ardnamurchan, about 3 cables off. From here we had a good sail   towards Mallaig, then decided to head for Armadale instead and pick up a visitors mooring for a few hours before catching the last of the tide up through Kyle Rhea early Weds morning.

By 21.00 the wind had died and it was back to the hideous machinery. After an hour the monstrous beast  began to overheat and we had to reduce revs even further, now making no more than three knots motor sailing towards Armadale, where we finally picked up the one unoccupied visitors mooring in the dark (cloudy tonight) at 11.30. (Isle of Skye yachts, rated 15 tonnes, £10 a night – but we were off at dawn and didn’t reckon they would mind too much). Cup of tea and straight to bed.

Summer Cruise 2005 - Day 1

(throughout this log you can click any pictures for a larger version)

Left the pontoon in Seil Sound at 12.30 with a view to making Lochaline the first stop, easing into the passagemaking gently. We had to motor to the top of Insh, where we finally got a good sail, with a fair wind and tide for our destination.

I had mentioned to Kathy that the lazarette smelt rather dieselly when I had stashed something . . . now the engine was quiet I had a quick look in the engine bilge. Aaargh! Half a gallon of neat diesel. Now, the old Volvo may be a hideous smoky overheating superannuated wreck that would be better used as a mud weight, but it has never been incontinent before.

A quick change of plans saw us diverting to Kerrera, tacking in through the N. entrance to Oban Bay and tempted to sail right onto the Oban Yachts hammerhead to avoid starting the thing. However, discretion overcame us and we started the engine, only losing about a pint in the process. (Kathy had already cleaned up the original leakage with a packet of disposable nappies that I bought at the start of the season in a strange fit of prescience).

We found a diesel mechanic as soon as we had tied up and by a strange coincidence it was a guy we knew from back East – originally someone we knew’s kid but now very much a person in his own right, and a sailor to boot. We last met him two years ago at a drunken Aberdeenshire party . . . he had just returned from Tenerife in his Rival 31 after abandoning plans for an Atlantic crossing.

Anyway . . . to cut a long story short it was just a knackered compression washer, and it cost us half an hour of Tristan's time - £18.50 - plus a £10 charge for a (very) short stay. It's £20 a night now for a pontoon berth irrespective of length, so we decided to cut our losses and head on up to Lochaline even though it was now 7 o'clock and we had lost the tide.

And guess what – it was a beat when we had been expecting a run. A pleasant enough sail though until we tried to tack through between Lismore and Lady’s Rock and encountered three knots of tide. The wind of course dropped immediately, and it took us an hour to make about a mile.

The rest of the sail was grand, although we had to tack every inch of the way, putting the donk on about half a mile off the entrance to Lochaline and motoring through the narrows at low water.

We went up to our favourite spot about a mile up on the left hand side (site of the infamous whisky drop) in what was now almost total darkness. I could dimly make out shadow boats, but thought I must be imagining it. No, there were six other boats anchored there – the most I have ever seen, although we usually go early or late season.

We dropped the hook in eight metres at one o clock in the morning and put all our chain out, had a very late and overdue supper of spicy mince and rice with a glass of plonk and fell into bed.