Fairwinds 2005

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Day 30 - Lochmaddy - Lochboisdale - 36 miles

The day was better than expected, and after breakfast and a bit of hesitation we decided that we would head South down the Uists with a view to making Lochboisdale as a good place to sit out any bad weather.

Westbound Adventurer was over at the pier taking on water and diesel when we left and headed off goosewinged down the loch with two reefs in the main - reefed for the weather forecast rather than the actual wind at the time. Once we got out of Lochmaddy and turned onto our course of 195 degrees we had 21 knots over the deck and a long swell, and with two reefs and a full genoa we were able to point high enough to make our course and make five and a half knots over the ground. Behind us we could see Westbound Adventurer following us, and a couple of hours later she passed us, providing both crews with a photo opportunity.

It was an excellent sail for another hour or so - close hauled but relatively comfortable and with blue skies. Then the wind began to fall away, and we hung onto the second reef for too long. Off the top of South Uist we lost the comfortable long swell and the seas became short and steep, slowing our progress further. Reefs were taken out then put back in as the wind refused to blow constantly, and we were forced further offshore.

When we tacked in on what we hoped was our final approach to Lochboisdale the wind increased to twenty five kots so we ended up with half the genoa rolled away, reducing our pointing ability to a pitiful thing and resulting in a series of short tacks up to the visitors moorings. We had not had many windward passages on this cruise so far - and this experience made us thankful for that not so small mercy. I vowed to get an inner forestay and blade jib for next year, and to take the sheets inside the shrouds next time we were beating with the genoa deeply rolled.

Westbound Adventurer was swinging on a visitors mooring, with Lawrence ferrying the crew ashore to the pub. There was one spare mooring - but someone had left a dinghy on it. We enquired of another one of the moored yachts and they told us a fishing boat had left the dinghy there in the morning. We decided to risk the hassle and picked the mooring up anyway.

Lawrence came over from WA for a cup of tea and a look at Fairwinds, and shortly afterwards the guilty fishing boat turned up . . . in fact it was a dive boat, out for scallops, and they had the decency to admit that leaving their dinghy on the mooring had been a bit of a cheek. They were completely forgiven when they gave us a large bag of scallops by way of reparation. We were already in the process of cooking, so they went over the side for storage until breakfast.

Day 29 - Lochmaddy

It's a nice day and we have a touch of the light and variables - the calm before the storm if the inshore forecast is to be believed. After a leisurely breakfast I go ashore and wash my boot socks and a couple of pairs of socks and underpants in the gents in the ferry terminal on the pier. For any cruisers thinking of following suit, I can highly recommend it - twin sinks with plenty of hot water. Also picked up a few leaflets and chatted to the very nice lady in the tourist office.

As we had missed Berneray yesterday we decided to visit it by bus instead. An excellent wee minibus took us to the Sound of Harris ferry slip and we walked back along the beach and through the village until the next bus came along and picked us up. It gave us a chance to examine first hand and without panic Bays Loch and the surrounding waters, which the locals allegedly navigate by instinct alone. Hamish Haswell-Smith tells a story about a Bernaray man who was carrying some folk from Harris to the island when he hit a rock. Outraged, his passengers cried:

"You told us you knew every rock in this area", to which the worthy boatman replied:

"Sure I do, and this is one of them"

Berneray is beautiful on a day like this - long white strands fringing turquoise water, the rocks like a handful of carelessly dropped pebbles in the sound and the Harris hills rising beyond. The Youth Hostel is unique - a pair of thatched 'black houses' with all (or most) mod cons.

When we got back to Lochmaddy Kathy went shopping and I checked my e-mail in the local centre, as once again there was no O2 signal here. We had a quick pint in the Lochmaddy Hotel then repaired to the boat to prepare to return to the hotel for showers and a meal out.

When we got back to the pier we found Westbound Adventurer on one of the moorings.. She is a Sigma 33C belonging to Westbound Adventures, the sailing school Kathy and I did our first RYA courses with. We stopped off on the way back to the boat for a chat with the skipper, Lawrence McBride. He takes occasional courses for the school, and has just become the proud owner of an Albin Vega.

Armed with clean underwear and shampoo we returned to the Lochmaddy Hotel. Showers are expensive at £3.00, but an endless supply of fluffy white towels is provided - and anyway we just put it on the bill with the meal and paid with a card. The meal was good and excellent value, and the pudding - lemon posset - was superb.

Lawrence and some of his Competent Crew candidates came into the bar later, but by this time we were deep in conversation with the couple off Eos, a steel 31ft Van der Stadt on the mooring inshore from us. He was a freelance shepherd from Kent, so they were able to take relatively long chunks of time off at certain non-sheep-critical times of the year to go cruising. They had been intending to go to Orkney but after a day or so in Kinlochbervie waiting for the infernal North-Easterlies to change they had abandoned hope and gone round the Butt of Lewis and Westabout to Taransay.

So another pleasant pub evening . . . plans for the morrow fluid, depending on weather and headstate on rising. The inshore forecast is saying 5-6 SW, which is close hauled or worse for going South, but the outlook is worse with F7 being mentioned.

Day 28 - Rodel - Hermesay - Lochmaddy - 15 miles

Did I say a good nights sleep? Come high water too many of those mean Minch waves began to find their way in to the anchorage, and we rolled as the wires in the mast banged and crashed. Eventually got up earlier than intended and caught the inshore forecast. The wind is going to go Southerly at some point and blow quite hard, but the timing seems a little vague. We are empooled until about three o'clock when there is enough water to get out through Bay Passage, so we are not planning a long trip today. We don't really want to go to Lochmaddy again, as it did not inspire me on my previous two visits, but it is the logical choice - particularly when we discover the wind has died away to a mere zephyr and the infernal machinery will have to be employed.

We raise the main more in hope than anger and motor-sail across the entrance to the rock-strewn Sound of Harris, for which we have no large scale chart. I go below and fire up the laptop with the as yet unused in anger electronic navigation system. I open the 1-10,000 chart showing Sound of Harris - Cope Passage, plug in the GPS mouse and we head off for the first pair of buoys with a view to maybe rockhopping our way to Berneray. The little red boat on the chart doesn't seem to be quite where the mk 1 eyeball says we are though, and when we reach the first buoy my suspicions are confirmed. I check the position with the main GPS - it's about 100 metres out N and the same W. Obviously a datum problem of some kind, but with the wind suddenly getting up and the tide turning against us discretion seems the better part and we turn round and head back to the Cope safe water mark.

Heading once more for Lochmaddy I glance at Haswell Smith and find we are just passing one of his islands - Hermetray. There seems like plenty of time and the anchorage looks straightforward, so in we go. We only have a small scale paper chart, but we thought things would be obvious from Hamish's sketch map. Not so - it was high water, and a drying reef was all wet and invisible, changing the whole landscape. We got sufficiently confused for me to go below and fire up the electric chart again, at which point all became clear.

We anchored and I went ashore while Kathy stayed behind to fish. I landed and discovered I was not alone - some canoeists had also come ashore. Really, uninhabited islands just aren't what they used to be. I went inshore and couldn't see them . . . the island is easy walking, as it is grazed by sheep, and I tramped over a majority of it. Across to the loch, then up over three separate high points until I found the true summit of the island with a wonderful view of the Sound of Harris full of carelessly scattered rocks, reefs and islands, and so back to the dinghy.

Back on board Fairwinds, Kathy gave me some improbable tale of a giant saithe that had got away, taking her spinner with it. We upped anchor and resumed motoring for Lochmaddy. On the way Kathy hooked and lost two mackerel, and threw one back because it was too small. Once on the mooring she chucked the feathers over the side and they promptly and mysteriously fell off the line. A black day for the fishing industry on Fairwinds I'm afraid. The good news was that I fixed the datum problem and the little red boat was exactly where it should be on the mooring, with both GPS receivers agreeing to within two or three metres.

Chile con carne and a glass of wine. Couldn't be bothered to go ashore even though the dinghy is already inflated and it's no distance. Plans rather fluid - waiting for the weather forecast in the morning before deciding. If it's rotten then you can get showers here . . . and I really need to wash my boot socks . . .

Day 27 - Altbea - Rodel (Harris) - 48 miles

Got the anchor at 05.30 and had the engine off ten minutes later. Rigged the pole as we headed out into the choppy waters of the Minch, and we ran goosewinged at six knots plus for hours, surfing diagonally on the swells at up to eight and a half knots, sometimes riding a wave for ten or fifteen exhilarating seconds at a time. The wind blew steadily F4 - 5 NE and the sun shone. Yes, you heard that correctly - the sun shone and the sky was blue - the first time in four weeks we had had a genuine blue sky day. Still cold though, and the wild surfing caused by the big following seas meant we had to hand steer all the way.

We did 32 miles in the first five hours, and now the wind began to strengthen and back slightly more towards the North. During the wilder surfing episodes the genoa was getting taken aback, so I went up on the foredeck to gybe the pole. The motion made it very difficult, so eventually I just dropped the pole and we flew the genoa free to port. This worked OK for a while, but eventually we had to alter course to a dead run. By now the wind wasa strong enough to run at five knots plus under main alone, with only a few miles to go.

Half a mile before the entrance to Loch Rodel we had a problem. We could no longer make our course - the wild rolling meant the main kept getting taken aback, stopped from gibing only by the preventer. The only way to avoid running into the cliffs a few hundred yards short of the entrance was to gybe, but the seas were now much bigger and with no preventer rigged on the other side it would have been inviting chaos. We put the engine on and rounded up into the wind motoring at two knots with 28 knots of wind over the deck. I have to say I have made neater jobs of flaking the mainsail, bit the beast was tamed and we turned and ran downwind for the last half mile before turning into the relative shelter of Loch Rodel.

The anchorage - or more accurately the visitors moorings - are in a pool that is almost totally isolated from the sea. The narrow entrance channel dries completely at LWS. The pilot advises that if the base of the beacon (actually a passing place sign on a concrete pillar) is covered then there is 3.4 metres in the channel. We reckoned we could see about a metre of the base, so there should be 2.4 metres of the floaty stuff available for use. Our calculation seemed pretty accurate - least depth was 1.2 m under the keel (we draw 1.1m) - apart from a couple of worrying plunges to zero that were probably caused by weed.

Once in the pool we went for the nearest mooring but the pickup was wound round the buoy so we picked up the middle mooring, which had a largish diameter polyprop rope already attached in addition to the pickup, probably the property of a local fishing boat that had been using the mooring. The wind was still blowing F5 - 6 so I put an extra rope on for luck, then got an hour or so's sleep.

Eventually I woke and summoned the enthusiasm to inflate the dinghy. We went ashore and walked up to St. Clements' church, the burial place of the MacLeods of Berneray. The church is 15th century and you can go up the tower as well as seeing loads of impressive mausoleums, inscriptions and carvings - well worth a visit. But enough of antiquities now and off to the Rodel Hotel for a couple of Hebridean ales. The bar is deserted and the barman - originally from Inverness - obviously doesn't want to be there - he is moving to Wiltshire. The hotel has been completely renovated, but has lost the character it had the first time we visited it in 1989, when it was essentially a semi-derelict shebeen.

We repair to Fairwinds for haggis followed by fresh raspberries and cream, then I persuade the First Mate that we shold go ashore for a nightcap. This time the bar is heaving and it's standing room only. One pint is enough and we retire to the boat for a good night's sleep.

Day 26 - Ullapool - Altbea - 28 miles

We got our anchor at one thirty after a leisurely morning breakfasting, reading the paper and recovering from Little Wolves. The band were fishing off the pier when we left, but didn't notice us waving.

We had a great sail down to Cailleach Point (on the end of the peninsula between Loch Broom and Little Loch Broom) then rounded the point and beat up Little Loch Broom for a look at Scoraig, a long established New Age type community which has survuved and prospered. We thrashed up the loch towards a grey threatening gloom hanging over An Teallach and Dundonnell, then tacked and reached past the houses, new slip and boatshed and dozens of boats hauled up on the hard. Windmills spun above many of the buildings. I would love to have landed and met the inhabitants, but without an invitation it would have been too much of an invasion of privacy. Feeling like voyeurs we sped past and headed out towards Greenstone Point goosewinged.

Slowly the wind began to die away and an irritating Northerly swell began to roll all the wind out of the sails. We doused the genoa and motorsailed for a while, then I ventured unwillingly onto the wildly gyrating foredeck and rigged the pole. The seas were big and misshapen all the way round the long curve of Greenstone Point - an uncomfortable, lumpy, cold ride.

Eventually the sea began to smooth as we entered Loch Ewe. Altbea only appears at the last minute - you begin to wonder if the chart is lying. It's a bit of a desolate place on a cold night, but a fine sheltered anchorage in the by now all too familiar North East wind. No yachts there at all, and only about three moorings in the whole wide sweep of the bay. We anchored right in front of the hotel, but with no desire to go ashore. Spag bol and Irish coffees and so to bed with the wind still whistling in the rigging and the alarm set for an early start.

Day 25 - Badentarbat Bay - Horse Island - Ullapool - 11 miles

We sailed off the anchor in light winds and sunshine at 9.15. The intention was to head to Ullapool for lunchtime or thereabouts with a view to possibly meeting up with my parents for lunch and a wander about. (They live the Ullapool side of Inverness, only about 75 minutes drive). We weren't really expecting them to turn up, however, as they had someone coming to look at their house, which is currently on the market.

By cowboy time (ten to ten) the wind had died away to nothing and we put the motor on and headed for Horse Island, a baggable Haswell-Smith on our direct route to Ullapool. We anchored in the bight between the two bits of the island at 10.30 and I found a missed call from my parents on my mobile. Phoned and they confirmed they would be in Ullapool soon after one.

Determined to bag Horse Island now we were anchored, the skipper went ashore to explore. Not much to report - heather, grass, lots of small orchids and some smashed sea urchin shells obviously dropped by hungry birds with no tin opener. Raised anchor slightly less than an hour later and headed for Ullapool. By midday we were able to dispense with the engine again and enjoyed a pleasant sail up Loch Broom, finally motor-sailing the last couple of miles and dropping the anchor East of the pier - between it and the moorings - at 2pm. We were still towing the dinghy, so were quickly ashore to meet my parents for a bar lunch.

After lunch the parents took us to the Somerfield supermarket where we reprovisioned - very hand y having motorised transport back to the dinghy when you are stocking up on heavy essentials like beer and wine. We then did the highlights of Ullapool - the hardware shop and Highland Stoneware - followed by coffee and cakes in the Ceilidh Place before my parents headed back to Inverness.

After stashing the shopping we got changed into our least smelly clothes and went ashore for some truly outstanding fish and chips. The plan after that was to go and see Colcannon, an Australian Celtic band playing in the Clubhouse. It was six quid to get in , and we havered a bit but decided to go for it. We listened outside and the band sounded good, so we paid our twelve quid and I opened the door - to see three rows of chairs and a pure concert format - no sitting at tables, no bar, not the evening we had envisaged at all. I explained this to the lassie taking the money and she refunded ours.

Slightly embarrassed, we legged it to the Arch Inn, where a guitarist, lady fiddler and lady harpist were playing for free. This was the first time I had seen a Celtic harp in a pub, and a most enjoyable couple of pints of An Teallach were consumed while we listened to them. Eventually it got a little soporific however, and so we decided on a change of venue.

Just down the road is the Seaforth, an extraordinary pub which seem sto have something on almost every night. Tonight it was Little Wolves, described as an R&B cover band. This itself was just a cover, as they played a lot of their own material in between. They were a traditional three piece - drummer, lead guitar and bass guitar - and they were rough as a badger's nether regions, but highly entertaining. The patrons were equally entertaining - fishermen in full working gear coming in straight off the boats, loads of partying holidaymakers, a couple of business types in suits who had somehow been hijacked by a couple of good time girls, a couple of Viz fat slags look-alikes, an unlikely elderly superhero (probably German) in cut off jeans, an emblazoned top and sandals - you name it, they were all there.

The band drank Special Brew and got better and better - I detected a heavy Zappa influence among others. We even got up to dance for the last two numbers, then I stole the poster off the wall on the way to the gents and got the band to sign it. Luckily the tide says we don't need to leave until lunchtime tomorrow!

Day 24 - Tanera Beg - Tanera Mor - Badentarbat Bay (Achiltibuie) - 8 miles

Day 23 - Lochinver - Tanera Beg - 13 miles

Light wind and the sun actually shone for a little while this morning. Mended the foot of the genoa with copious amounts of spinnaker tape, then motored gently off the pontoon with the genoa unfurled. Got the main up and killed the engine, drifting slowly and pleasantly out to sea for an hour until the wind picked up and we raced off at five knots. Coming down past Rief and White Rock we were goosewinged in flat water - no pole - very pleasant. White Rock and the area round about it needs a wide berth - it would be a very nasty corner to cut in poor visibility. Somewhere near here Kathy landed two large mackerel.

Goosewinged down the channel between Eilean Mullagrach and Isle Ristol, then reaching along towards the Taneras trying to make out which lump of rock is which - there are a few of them. Eventually we identified the channel between Eilean Fada Mor and Tanbera Beg that leads into the sheltered pool at the South of Fada Mor. (At least, it was sheltered in the continuing brisk North Easterly - I think it would be very exposed in strong Southerlies or South-Easterlies).  It was near low water, so most of the dangers were visible and the channel was, as it usually is, much less scary in reality than on the chart or in the pilot.

There was one other yacht already anchored in the pool, and later it got even busier - a kayaking couple pitched a tent on Eilean Fada Mor, and a tourist RIB from Ullapool breezed through the anchorage with the passengers waving enthusiastically. The bank of coral sand between the islands that protects the South of the anchorage failed to show itself at low water - it must only dry occasionally at low water Springs.

Blew up the dinghy and went exploring on Tanera Beg, and I decided to start semi-seriously collecting Haswell-Smiths (Scottish islands over 40 hectares, as detailed in Hamish Haswell-Smith's wonderful  'The Scottish Islands', a must for the library of any yacht cruising these waters). Tanera Beg was never inhabited, and there was no sign of grazing, so the walking was rugged. Signs of civilisation were found however, in the form of several items of (male) designer underwear tastefully embedded in the summit cairn on the second highest point on the island.

Returned to Fairwinds for mackerel kung po, which was delicious - better than the prawns the night before, particularly as there was so much of it. As the tide turned and the flood began to run through the pool I realised we weren't quite out of the tide when we swung and lay at 90 degrees to the other yacht, which was slightly further in towards the shore - but we had a comfortable night hanging off the trusty Spade in the fresh wind which continued to blow all night.

Day 22 - Lochinver

Up soon after nine to let Spirit of the Isles away to the fuel berth and Stornoway. We decided to stay another night, as the Highland Harbours charge of £15.28 covers two consecutive nights, either here or with the second night at Kinlochbervie, Gairloch or Kyle.

Paid our harbour dues at the harbour office then went to the Seaman's Mission for all day breakfast. It took ages to get served as they were incredibly busy, but it was worth it. Walked down to the village and spent some time in the Assynt Visitor Centre, possibly the best one I have ever been in. We checked out the shops then went for a short stroll up the feisty River Inver before coming back to the road and going to have a look at the Highland Stoneware workshops and showroom. We got lost in a surprisingly extensive council estate heading back to the village to shop at the Spar, which according to the frazzled young lady working the till was having its busiest day of the year so far - although no-one seemed to know where all these people had come from.

A long walk back to the boat with the shopping, then off to the excellent chandlers for a replacement mackerel bucket - we had a bucket overboard incident somewhere half way to Cape Wrath and had lost sight of it - then back to the Mission for showers, which include a towel and soap if required. However, on the way back to the boat we investigated the new Sports and Community centre, which is just about the nearest large building to the pontoon, and discovered toilets, showers (only £1.10, cheaper than the Mission) and internet access for £1.50 an hour (although this was not available that evening as they were resealing the floor). The real mystery was why the harbour master hadn't told us about this when we asked him about facilities. (The harbour themselves do not provide anything other than the pontoon itself, which is mostly full of local boats).

Chinese for tea - king prawn kung po using a Sharwoods jar plus Spar king prawns and a tin of Chinese vegetables. The bright lights of Lochinver did not tempt us, and so we spent a quiet night on board.. Tomorrow we need to tape and sew the genoa before setting off to the Summer Isles hoping for some Summer - cold and grey in Lochinver this evening.