Friday 14 July
It was a good day to go sailing, but my tired crew weren’t in the best shape, so they did some pottering and planning, and helped incoming yachts to berth. Before they had a chance to go shopping, Dave the RNLI Coxswain dropped by for a full tour and a chat about our lifestyle, as he dreams of something similar when he retires in a couple of years’ time. As always, I was happy to meet a new man in uniform, and show off my best bits.
Thursday 13 July
We motorsailed down Kilbrannan Sound against combined wind and tide, enjoying full main and genoa in a fairly steady F4. The crew have struggled to obtain any weather forecasts in this area, which proved unfortunate as a sudden squall blew in after lunch, and within half an hour the day had changed from sunny spells to grey drizzle and wind from six to 26 knots, veering 100˚ and rain blinding Mate and stinging her face as she struggled to steer my course for Campbeltown on the Kintyre peninsula. Fortunately, Skipper had already furled my genoa, and Mate asked for third reef in the main. It wasn’t the tidiest reef ever made, but as the only thing in our favour was that we were near a windward shore, so the waves hadn’t built, she relied on the chart plotter and radar to guide me into the bay, in mist now so dense the land had disappeared completely.
As we followed the channel between the lighthouse and the opposite headland, the gusts were still 25 knots and more, but in between 18 knots of steady breeze felt positively calm, and at least the mist started to disperse, so Mate could pick out the guiding marks. The harbour master responded to Skipper’s radio call, advising us of a berth starboard to, so he took over on the helm while Mate prepared my lines and fenders, clinging to any available handhold while the lifeboat churned out at full throttle, heading for a shout. We managed to make a clean landing, in spite of a still stiff breeze blowing us off, and then my crew helped a Czech-chartered boat into a tight alongside slot behind us, before a cursory ‘happy hour’ tidying my decks. They soon disappeared in search of fish and chips, following a recommendation to the Kilbrannon Bar on Longrow, where the barman held the kitchen open specially to prepare their order, while they were entertained in conversation with said barman, a little lady of 87 (the only other female present), delightfully away with the fairies, and three Geordie builders working at a local school, already closed for summer holidays.
They returned home around 2200 to wash me down, refill my water tanks and wash up, distracted by the lifeboat finally returning from a five-hour shout with a tiny yacht tied alongside. The Coastguard was awaiting their return and had stern words for the miserable crew, as they were ill-prepared without proper charts or safety equipment, and the rescue services had struggled to find them in the conditions described above, which were worse on the opposite side of the peninsula, open and exposed to the full force of the Atlantic Ocean. They were finally discovered ten miles from where they’d thought they were, tangled in lobster pot lines 50 yards off rocks near Macrihanish Bay. Meanwhile the lifeboat crew made short work of thoroughly washing down their vessel, refuelling her and putting covers on, but it was still midnight before they clocked off.
Wednesday 12 July
Another perfect summer’s day!?! The crew were up early to go ashore to catch a bus to the beginning of the popular walk up Goat Fell. The scenery from the bus along the coast road, hedged with wild fuchsia and honeysuckle, was delightful. The first section of the walk, up a shady gorge beside waterfalls and pools, with foxgloves and ferns in dappled sunlight, was beautiful and peaceful. 
Higher up the path left the woodland for open heath, where fluffy flax danced in the breeze, and lots of walkers rested at a bridge across the stream. The climb was very busy, ‘paved’ in places to mitigate the erosion caused by thousands of bootsteps, elsewhere difficult, steep scrambles.
Once the summit was finally reached, the view from the trig point was incredible, very clear with the Western Isles laid out all around – just like on the chart. A brief lunch stop was sufficient to recharge Mate for the descent, which was actually easier than expected, and she was glad of the encouragement of fellow walkers, with whom they celebrated with a welcome drink at the pub at the foot of the mountain. Goat Fell is not high enough to qualify as a Munro, but very popular as the highest point on Arran.
Tuesday 11 July
With no wind, we motored down the West Kyle and out into Inchmarnock Water. The crew sunbathed in warm sunshine while enjoying several harbour porpoise – you can tell they’re not dolphins, because they are smaller, and they ignore boats. We eventually picked up a visitor’s mooring in Lochranza on Arran, as there are so many there was no room
to anchor, and relaxed under a beautiful sunset. Shore crew were roped in to do some Internet research into local transport, as there was phone signal but no wifi.
Monday 10 July
The crew motored l’arrêt across the bay to a barnacle-and-seaweed-covered jetty at the promenade, to land without getting wet, change out of waterproofs and boots, and enjoy a leisurely stroll around town on a warm, dry morning. Rothesay is famous for very ornate Victorian public conveniences on the quayside – 40p to spend a penny! The tourist information office and shop is housed in the circular wrought iron auditorium of the former Winter Gardens building, and has a fascinating display of local history, as well as lots of lovely leaflets for Mate to peruse, even if I can’t actually get (them) to most of the places mentioned.
They returned as the dry morning became another damp afternoon, and in retrieving the anchor disturbed a beautiful orange starfish among the kelp.
We motored Northwards up the East Kyle of Bute, past Colintraive and the Burnt Isles, which need careful pilotage. Caladh harbour was already occupied, so we tucked in just around the corner for a comfortable night in the company of a seal, herons and oystercatchers. There may have been a few midges around, too.
Sunday 9 July
It rained – all day: low cloud or mist came and went, raising hopes as it lifted, only to sink again along with the crew’s spirits. As always, by the time it eventually eased, it was too late to do anything outside or ashore. However, poor weather is simply an opportunity to do something else, so Mate amused herself in the galley and tidying some stowage areas, while Skipper made up some soft shackles.
Saturday 8 July
A day of reducing cloud and increasing sunshine, clear skies and good views all day. The crew spotted a buzzard (known locally as a tourist eagle) near Carrick Castle, and were distracted from worrying about clearing the power lines, a little higher than my 21 metres’ air draft, by a delicious waft of pine as sunlight warmed the resin of conifers on the nearby shore.
They put me on a borrowed mooring just South of Finart Bay, off Blairmore, for a lunch stop. There was a bit of swell and I wasn’t keen on the spot, so while they were distracted by food and telephone calls, I let my warp drift off the ring and started floating gently away. This encouraged them to hoist my main and 
staysail, and soon adjust the main to a more manageable first reef for a series of tacks down to the entrance of Loch Long. We rounded Toward Point to a new view of the Eastern Kyle of Bute, playing tag with ferries and commercial vessels. Three harbour porpoise and a large seal were spotted.
It was deemed too fiddly to attempt to enter Rothesay Harbour, later confirmed as a g
ood decision, as the large Calmac ferries berth just outside the entrance, and inside is a bit tight for a yacht of my size. Instead, Skipper dropped my anchor among a line of yachts in Rothesay Bay, under a pastel lemon and lavender sky.
Friday 7 July
We motored down Gaer Loch, past the submarine base at Farslane, and although we didn’t see any, they could be heard on the radio. A harbour porpoise surfaced briefly in almost the same place as we saw one yesterday, like a ‘hello and goodbye’. The wind was light and bent around by high hills, causing big fluctuations in speed. Trevver helped us from time to time, especially as we cleared under power lines 76 metres above the water. They tied me to a mooring at Lochgoilhead, at the top of Loch Goil, 
off Loch Long, and I settled down under a beautiful full moon – it’s been so misty and cloudy it hasn’t been seen for the last few days. Apparently it’s hot in London: oh for a few of their excess degrees…
Thursday 6 July
My water tanks were emptied by Mate washing up, showering and cleaning the heads, so we could start again with fresh. Skipper washed the city dust off my decks before filling them, while Mate got on with two loads of laundry. For once a warm day with no wind, but then it rained a heavy shower. By the time Mate was back, Skipper had also filled my diesel tanks, and as it was now mid-afternoon, we motored off straightaway for Gare Loch. A selection of wildlife was noted along the way: harbour porpoise, seal, oystercatchers, terns, eider ducks, guillemots and gulls.
Wednesday 5 July
A big Tesco shop – two trolleys full – and a taxi ride home, and Mate’s old shoulder injury recurring, didn’t make for an exciting day, but they weren’t sure when they’d shop next, as we’re heading out into the islands soon.
