Sunday 23 July
A forecast of strong winds deterred my crew from setting back out to sea, and instead they opted to motor l’arrêt further up the loch to find its uppermost reaches. Although my little sister struggled against the opposing current in the narrow entrance above my anchorage, the channel is theoretically navigable by larger vessels, as evidenced by several pairs of leading marks installed by no less a sailor than the great ‘Blondie’ Hasler. She was humbled to follow in the wake of a man famous for a (mythical) bet on a race across the Atlantic against Sir Francis Chichester.
Once into the ‘inner sanctum’ the current lessened, and an interesting potter took them up to a wide shallow pool with a number of moorings. However, it was near low water and there didn’t seem to be anywhere to land to explore further ashore, so Mate clung to a moored rowing boat while Skipper topped up the fuel tank, and then they paddled some of the way back to enjoy the silence.