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