After three summers sailing in Scotland - which we would not have missed for the world, we have decided after much soul searching that it is time for us to head south. It will be heartbreaking to leave Scotland, which we consider the most beautiful cruising area in the world, but it is just too cold, windy and wet – and far away – to keep our ‘holiday cottage’ there. Next year we plan to relocate to the south - nearer to home, and hopefully with better weather and the ability to come and go for shorter sailing breaks. This year’s plan, after a little more time in Scotland, is to head south via Ireland and to winter Aremiti in Bristol.

We arrived back onboard Aremiti, still out of the water in our marina at Craobh, to be treated to a vile evening- exceedingly cold, wet and windy – instant vindication of our decision! The routine repair and maintenance tasks went without a hitch and our Tesco delivery duly arrived with tinned and dried provisions to last for the summer, leaving us only fresh food to buy along the way. Sadly the Lord of the Isles pub at the marina had closed due to staff shortages, and it was only with some difficulty that we could find anywhere within a 10 mile radius for a meal out with friends from Bristol. After a week of chores, we enjoyed our one and only lovely sunny evening in the cockpit, followed by our departure from the marina next day into a gorgeous sunny, but rather windless day. Tides are a significant constraint in these waters, but we got it right and zoomed through Cuan Sound to arrive in Oban, rewarded by a dinner of fish and chips. The following day we left early for Tobermory - 25 miles on, at a time calculated to catch the tide in the Sound of Mull and to avoid stronger adverse winds later in the day. We motor-sailed – wind over tide making for a rather bouncy passage – in plenty of time to catch the England v Serbia match in the Mishnish pub that evening. The following day we met Olive – cousin of our sailing association secretary who we first met last year. Fount of all local knowledge, it was good to catch up on the goings on in Tobermory. This being our last visit we treated ourselves to a slap up meal at Café Fish.

The following day, continuing our circumnavigation of Mull, we enjoyed our first really good sail of the season across the northern coast of Mull – an excellent beam reach in light winds at good speed. Taking in a last glance at our favourite view in Scotland – northwards beyond Ardnamurchan Point towards Muck, Eigg, Rum and Skye, we turned southeast, took a turn round the bizarrely shaped Treshnish Islands and then on around Staffa with its awesome basalt columns and Fingal’s Cave. In an increasing wind, we beat up the few miles to anchor between the islands of Ulva and Gometra.

The following morning we went ashore for a closer look at tiny Gometra – just 1 ½ square miles. The island is basically a farm, owned by an eccentric millionaire who apparently lives on the island, committed to the simple life – and Extinction Rebellion. However, we didn’t meet him! That afternoon in flat calm, we motored 6 miles through the convoluted mess of rocks, islets and islands, and spectacular scenery that make up the west side of Mull, to anchor off the even tinier island of Inch Kenneth – a raised up grassy plateau. Like Gometra, this island was owned and farmed by the Monastery of Iona for several centuries. In the more recent past, the island was owned for a time by the composer of the words of the Skye Boat Song, and subsequently by the eccentric Mitford family. The ownership of Scottish islands is just so fascinating! The wind blew up strongly in the early part of the night causing some anxiety over the anchor, dropping to flat calm the next morning allowing us to go for a walk, before moving on the 10 miles to anchor off Bunessan, five miles east of the Sound of Iona.

The Sound of Iona is shallow and rocky with very strong tidal streams and no safe place to anchor and leave the boat. Bunessan is the nearest secure anchorage – we had been there before and found it the perfect spot from where to take the bus and ferry across to Iona. Our reason for returning this time was to attend the Sound of Iona Music Festival – being great fans of Celtic Rock. However, the logistics of getting to and from the festival turned out to be somewhat trickier than we'd anticipated.  We'd imagined events taking place in venues on each side of the Sound, with ferries constantly plying back and forth.  However, it turned out not to be that sort of Sound! All the events were on the island, with everyone staying there for the two days. So although we could get on to Iona by public transport during the day, buses and ferries stopped after 6pm!  Olive had mentioned a couple of contacts and we managed to blag ourselves a lift on an old wooden fishing boat which was taking a handful people in the same predicament back across to Mull late at night.  We were then relieved to be offered a lift by car from a couple with accommodation in Bunessan – having accepted that as a last resort we’d have to walk the 5 miles back at the dead of night!  This was the first year of the festival and a huge community event for the small population of the island, with most performers and attendees camping there. Two days of Scottish Indie and Celtic Rock, culminating in the awesome Skerryvore, was friendly, joyous and sometimes very loud, leaving us reeling from singing and dancing at the end of the two long days.

After the festival we had planned a visit to the island of Oronsay, to enjoy a last experience of a typically remote Scottish anchorage. However, with a forecast of strong south easterlies for two days which would make the anchorage there untenable, we headed instead back to our home marina Craobh, 44 miles away. We needed to return at some point anyway, having asked friends forward our postal voting papers there. The first stage of the passage was through the Sound of Iona only 2 hours before low water which we sailed scarily fast for such a precise route! Continuing along the cliffy and remote southern coast of Mull we anchored between the delightful Black Isles for a couple of hours waiting for favourable tide before turning into the Sound of Luing, rewarded by a speedy passage south touching well over 9 knots.

With another set of gales due in 2-3 days time, so we decided to ‘nip’ out to Oronsay for just a night while the going was good. Conditions were so quiet that we planned a route through Corryvreckan, with its notorious whirlpool - a short cut saving us 6 miles. However as we drew close, despite calculations to arrive at slack water, the tide was still running against us at 4 knots, and though we waited for it to slow, a westerly wind – just what you don’t want there – started to build and we decided the long way round might be more prudent! We enjoyed a beautiful night at Oronsay – surrounded by rocky white sand beaches with a fabulous view of the Paps of Jura across the water. By the following morning the barometer was dropping alarmingly, confirming the approach of the forecast low. Undecided as to whether to head for a likely safe enough anchorage off Craighouse on Jura, we opted instead for the definitely safe haven of Craobh – again! We find from experience that however safe and lovely an anchorage might be, very strong winds create a stressfully hectic atmosphere and often make it unsafe to go ashore in the dinghy, so we tend to opt for the creature comforts of a marina! This turned out to be more fortuitous than we could have imagined for a couple of reasons. We had detected an electrical burning smell while on passage. Having identified the problem Chris was able to drive from Craobh to Oban for a new power supply. Then the following day, with the wind howling at 30 knots in the marina, the fault most to be dreaded occurred when the heads plumbing broke down. Traditionally a job for the skipper to sort out, Chris was an absolute hero! And being in a marina with a chandlery meant the required new pipe was instantly available. Fixing these two faults felt quite an efficient way to wait out heavy weather!

We were beginning to feel quite despondent at this stage. Forecasts for the foreseeable future predicted a seemingly unending series of lows coming in from the west with more strong winds, rain and cold. However, with a window of a couple of days we set off south - sad to leave our marina for the final time, but with no doubts about our decision. The boat next to us, leaving at the same time, told us that they’d planned to get out to the Outer Hebrides and St Kilda, but didn’t fancy the relentless westerlies forecast, so instead now planned to head south to the Scillies! That’s flexible!

We set off down the Sound of Jura heading for Craighouse, looking forward to the fantastic venison pies we recall at the Jura Hotel 3 years ago. However, given we hadn’t had any response from the hotel, and that we were sailing so well, we decided to press on to the island of Gigha, enjoying an exhilarating fast passage with a strong south-going tidal current, starting off hard on the wind but freeing up as the sound widened. By now in the Belfast Coastguard area, it felt like Northern Ireland was calling us over. We made our farewells to Scotland from Gigha early the following day, in typically Scottish dreich conditions, enjoying another excellent sail, crossing the notorious North Channel between the Irish Sea and Atlantic, and duly arrived into the very welcoming Ballycastle marina.

Goodbye Scotland – hello Ireland!

Chris, Julia and Aremiti