Another Solo Effort - 10:12 PM, Sep. 6, 2005

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.