2007

2008

2009

Vivari's West Coast Summer (part 1)
This year we decided that it was time we returned to the West Coast.
We have sailed there quite a lot in the past firstly with Fiona's father's boat and then with various chartered yachts. Originally I had planned to take our boat across at the end of June with my daughter Eilidh as crew and then to return with Fiona for West Highland Week at the start of August. Unfortunately Eilidh spotted that the week I had chosen coincided with her eighteenth birthday and decided that she would have better things to do then than to be stuck half way down Loch Ness on a boat with me.
This left Fiona and I to take the boat across at the start of June in the only week we could both get off.

We left Findochty at 08:15 on Saturday 23rd May the idea being to get as far as we could towards Inverness that weekend and to leave the boat for a week. The two most obvious stopping off points were Nairn or Inverness itself as we would then be able to get a train back home to Insch.

It was quite windy and we reached across Spey Bay under a partly rolled genoa, then motor sailed on past Lossiemouth to Findhorn. We hadn't been in to Findhorn with Vivari before but we used to go there years ago when we had a Corribee. We arrived about two and a half hours after high water and the tide was ebbing strongly, we got in OK but the depth sounder did indicate 0.2 metres under the keel at one point and the seals on the sandbank at the entrance were disconcertingly close. They seemed to be waving their flippers at us, probably trying to tell us to turn back.
We picked up a visitors mooring, waited a couple of hours for the tide to slow down and went ashore in search of food and drink. Findhorn actually seems to be a very lively place on a Saturday night.

High water was at 12:15 on the Sunday and we dropped our mooring at 10:00 being a bit more cautious to ensure there was sufficient water in the entrance, although of course this time the tide was rising so there was less opportunity for disaster. We emerged from Findhorn into a Westerly 4 to 5 with some pretty massive gusts and motored straight into it. We were just about beaten to a standstill at times and took 3.5 hours to get to Nairn where we met a very friendly welcome both from the local sailors and the harbourmaster. We arranged to leave the boat for a week and returned home to Insch by train.

The next Friday night saw us back in Nairn ready to leave early the next morning. High water was at 05:00. We left Nairn at 05:15 and motored West in light winds, it was going to be touch and go to get into the Caledonian Canal before the tide got too low to get into the Sea Lock. As we approached the Kessock Bridge we heard another yacht, Blue Moon, from Findhorn talking to the Sea Lock on VHF, he was leaving Inverness Marina heading for the canal. As we passed the bridge where the tide was now running strongly against us I called up the lock keeper to see if we would be able to get in, "if you make good time" he said so we pushed on at maximum speed against the tide and then across and into the lock, there was a slightly worrying moment as the engine protested at this treatment by hesitating for a while before picking up speed astern, but it responded eventually allowing us to avoid the embarrassment of crashing into Blue Moon.

We were stuck for a couple of hours in Muirtown Basin while they fixed a problem with a bridge but then followed Blue Moon up through the locks and into Loch Ness where we met a force 3 right on the nose. Blue Moon put up his sails and started tacking up the loch but we decided to motor for a while till we saw how he got on and it quickly became apparent that we were making better progress than he was. After half an hour or so we were about half a mile ahead when I noticed that he had stopped and that his mast was at a crazy angle, it looked like he had a broken cap shroud. Anyway we called him on the VHF but with no response and in due course he got his sails down and headed back to Inverness.

We motored on and by about 18:30 were nearing Fort Augustus. I was below for some reason and noticed some water on the floor. "Where did the water come from Fiona ?" I asked. She thought it just came in with the fenders and I accepted that (probably because it was preferable to any of the other possibilities), However shortly afterwards Fiona alerted me to the fact that the water was coming from the engine box. A quick investigation revealed a pinhole corroded in the cylinder block from which cooling water was spouting. We carried on into Fort Augustus where we drained the water out of the engine, cleaned up the damaged area on the block and applied three layers of Super Steel Epoxy. Although it has been a nagging worry for the rest of the summer we have had no further problems. It is a clear message though that the engine has really done enough and needs to be replaced.

The next day we continued on from Fort Augustus in brilliant sunshine and following a welcome pint in the floating pub at Laggan spotting a Golden Eagle as we emerged into Loch Lochy. About half way down the loch we stopped at a pontoon at Corriegour Lodge Hotel. We walked up to the hotel in search of dinner but it appeared to be deserted and much too posh for us anyway, I reckon they didn't like the look of us and just watched on CCTV till we went away. We carried on a bit further down the loch and had our dinner in the Letterfinlay Lodge instead.

At 14:15 on the Monday we passed through the Sea Lock at Corpach and headed down Loch Linnhe phoning ahead to arrange a mooring at Linnhe Marine just North of Lismore. We were told to pick up any mooring that was spare and as we entered the bay were both looking ahead to identify which would be best. Fiona spotted one quite close in and I turned towards it cutting inside an insignificant looking little red buoy. As is her habit Fiona had placed herself in front of the depth sounder. I politely asked her to move, then wondered why it was reading 0.1 metres. I quickly got my answer when we hit the bottom, I turned towards deeper water and we touched bottom another couple of times on the way out. However no damage was done, and for future reference that buoy appears to mark the end of a gravel spit.

The next day we motored across to the Lynn of Morvern and on to the entrance of the Sound of Mull where a nice breeze sprang up. Unfortunately it was on the nose once more. We tacked all the way up to Tobermory enjoying a friendly competition with a bigger yacht of about 32 feet that came out of Loch Aline. At least we enjoyed the competition because although it was neck and neck for a while, when the wind dropped sufficiently for us to revert to full sail we left them for dead.

In Tobermory we moored up to the pontoons, which have appeared since we were last there, and went off for Dinner returning to find Daemon moored across from us with Trevor and two friends consuming fish and chips. We joined them for a glass of wine.
From Tobermory we went up Loch Sunart spending the next night in Salen before returning down to Dunsfaffnage where we had arranged to leave the boat for a couple of months.
Dunstaffnage to Insch is a bit of a trek by Public Transport; we ended up getting a bus from Oban to Dundee and then a train the rest of the way.
This year we decided that it was time we returned to the West Coast.
We have sailed there quite a lot in the past firstly with Fiona's father's boat and then with various chartered yachts. Originally I had planned to take our boat across at the end of June with my daughter Eilidh as crew and then to return with Fiona for West Highland Week at the start of August. Unfortunately Eilidh spotted that the week I had chosen coincided with her eighteenth birthday and decided that she would have better things to do then than to be stuck half way down Loch Ness on a boat with me.
This left Fiona and I to take the boat across at the start of June in the only week we could both get off.

Vivari's West Coast Summer (part 2)
We spent a few weekends on the boat during June and July and one visit came across Fiona's dad's old Boat Tarantara. This is a Northney 34 built in the late 60's and we spent our honeymoon on it in 1981. Fiona was quite upset, as the boat is looking pretty neglected; it was kept immaculate when her family had it years ago.

We returned to Dunstaffnage on Friday 31st July and immediately bumped in to Calan Stewart and his crew from Lossiemouth with Tjalfe, also preparing for West Highland Week. The next day we headed round to Oban for the start of the feeder race to Craobh Haven. The start off Oban Sailing Club was pretty confused with a lot of anchored boats in the vicinity of the line. However we made a reasonable start and headed off beating into a blustery force 4 with frequent squalls, we did quite well for a while and got past a few boats but it continued to get windier and several others overtook us. Eventually as we were approaching the Sound of Luing we got struck by what we thought was a squall with heavy rain. Unfortunately this squall didn't come to an end, the wind just shot up to well over 30 knots and stayed there. Eventually we decided it was more than we could handle and we retired from the race and motored round to Craobh. Even that was a struggle.

At Croabh we moored up on the outside of a big Oyster 37 or 38,went ashore to explore and bumped into a couple that Fiona knew but had not met since her schooldays. It turned out they were racing in the same class as us.
There was a lot of partying going on but we managed to go to bed at a reasonable hour. After being briefly disturbed at midnight by a firework display I woke at 02:00 with a halyard clattering against our mast, I got up to secure it and was amused by a conversation on a nearby boat where a lively party was still in full swing.
Somebody approached and enquired "Do you have my son in there?"-"No" was the reply "and we haven't got your daughters either, anyway Alistair come aboard and have a drink". "Oh no ", replied Alistair "I have to go and find my son, the mother of the girl he's with is really upset and wants her daughter back". The guy on the boat with the party was very sympathetic - "Oh yes, I know what it's like, that happens on our boat a lot as well".

Sunday saw the first race of West Highland Week proper from Craobh to Oban. Being in the slowest class we were starting first and were caught out by the distance from the Marina to the start line, which was a lot further away than you might have expected from the sailing instructions. Anyway we started about two minutes late, spent the rest of the race trying to catch up and finished last in our class on handicap. It was pretty windy for the first few miles and we were sailing with two reefs, interestingly we were overtaken by two Northney 34's (like Tarantara) which were revelling in the conditions, in fact they ended up first and second in their class for the week. Another boat that caught they eye was a beautiful 7 Metre cruiser racer called Zaleda, with a varnished hull.

On Monday there was a race round Lismore and another windy forecast. We were back in Dunstaffnage and spent too long debating whether to go or not, by the time we decided we would go we were late for the start again and playing catch up from the back. The course was a reach up the Lynn of Lorne, round the top of Lismore, a close reach down the other side and round the bottom to a finish line at the entrance to Oban. Initially the wind was at the top end of where we could carry full sail and we did quite well, we caught up a lot off Port Appin by cutting through the shallows on the mainland side, there is not a lot of water there but we were following bigger boats and reckoned if they didn't hit anything we should be OK. By the time we got towards the bottom of Lismore it was getting really windy again and luckily the course was shortened there for the slower classes. We then rolled away our genoa and motor sailed back towards Dunstaffnage only to come upon a Westerly Griffon, which had been dismasted and was in danger of drifting down on to the Lismore shore. He said he didn't need any help but we stood by until a committee boat appeared on the scene.

By this time we were studying the forecast for the days ahead and saw it was to be really windy on the Wednesday for the passage race from Oban to Tobermory. We decided to miss the races in the Firth of Lorne on the Tuesday and go to Tobermory a day early. On the Wednesday we met the crew of Ajax from Lossiemouth who had adopted a similar plan having come up to Tobermory early that morning.
I reckon we made the right decision, as by all accounts the race was pretty wild, we spoke to the crew of the Melges 24 that won Class 1 and they told us they'd been doing 17 knots in the Sound of Mull.

On Thursday there was racing round the buoys to the North of Mull. This time we were determined not to be late and made a really good start heading straight into the lead. Unfortunately that only lasted a few hundred yards till our main halyard parted. By the time I had swapped the halyard for the topping lift we were behind again. We did quite well for a while and would have been near the front at the end if it hadn't been for the halyard. It was pretty windy again and the heavier boats were doing well.
On the Friday the weather conditions went to the other extreme and after several postponements and moves of the start line further and further down the Sound of Mull the passage race to Oban was finally cancelled.

On Saturday we met my sister and brother in law for a meal in the Pier House at Port Appin. The food was OK but not as good as the Tobermory Hotel.
We then made our way back to the canal on the Sunday getting into the basin in a brief period between there being enough water for the lock to open and the canal closing for the night. On the Monday we had pretty slow going as far as the top of Neptune's Staircase as we were in company with an old lifeboat that was being rowed through the canal for charity. Apparently the crew had spent a prolonged session in the pub the night before and this possibly accounted for their rowing performance, which left a bit to be desired. They reminded me of the Lerwick Sea Cadets who were once described as being "like a drunk spider".
Once we escaped from the lifeboat we carried on and made good progress getting as far as Fort Augustus that night, then Inverness the next night and back to Findochty on the Wednesday.

All in all we really enjoyed the whole trip, we didn't do well in West Highland Week but the conditions didn't favour us and we didn't have much luck. I don't think we were outclassed and we did learn a lot. We are keen to return there but two weeks without standing headroom was too long and we need a bigger boat. If anyone wants to buy a GK24 please let me know.

Bill Leask
Vivari

I have arrived in a hurry without my List. I have with me a newly sanded and varnished rudder blade, so one of the things on the List must surely be the rudder.
My head, over the last week, has been full of rudders. I lay claim to losing at least three under sail (one in the Forth, one in Peterhead and the other in Loch Oich, but all that is history).
The problem on Mouse began shortly after she came over the Falkirk Wheel. Her rudder was catching and dragging on everything north of the bottom on the Union canal, which is very shallow.
I went home with the intention of finding a shorter rudder blade. I had no difficulty in finding a potential candidate. My cellar is full of rudders, both made and acquired, for use as spares and replacements. In terms of value analysis, it is better to lose a mast than a rudder, they say.
I read some chapters by Ian Nicholson, whose chapter on rudders puts boats into two main categories; blue water racers and knockabouts under twenty feet. We know where we stand there!
I have chosen a short, laminated rudder for Mouse, from my collection. Found abandoned on the beach at Peterhead, at the end of last century.
Mouse's original blade can be kept for use at sea, and for the time being, on the canal, the shorter blade will suffice. A river rudder.
The longer, sea rudder, with its additional weight, adds to the overall balance of the boat in normal conditions, together with the lifting keel.
However, as we found with high winds on the canal, with the sea rudder and retracted keel, Mouse's nose had a tendency to lift and her steerage became less controlled.
Added to this of course, was the crew weight at the aft end. The answer here is more forward ballast and a haircut for the crew!

The other job I remember, is the on-going saga of the loo and the table. The sun goes behind a cloud, offering a good starting point. However, kneeling over a sea toilet does not fill me with a great deal of enthusiasm, and I spend some time surveying it from a distance and drinking more coffee. The idea is to camouflage the loo with the foldaway table, which when stowed on its end, fits exactly at the head of the starboard quarter berth as a sort of bulkhead. This gives more privacy when using the heads (if you are a midget).

Thinking time. I am back on the deck with the rudder blade, which I cannot get to rotate and up haul. I have shaved it to within an inch of its life with a flimsy hacksaw, upset that despite meticulous measurements it does not fit. Four ducks waddle up the towpath as I dis-assemble it for the third time. I have given up shaving the blade. Now it's massacre. Five large chunks float downstream towards the canal basin.
Poohsticks!

My other half rings to ask if I have any plans. I did have, I reply. He is on his way to join me. We enjoy a Chinese take-away on deck with some fine wine, and he inspects my efforts with the toilet and table. It is a difficult, if not impossible manoeuvre for someone of the adult male persuasion to pee into the bowl, he says, and goes ashore to find a tree.

Firing up Mouse's trusty engine, we motor up the canal towards Edinburgh. It is a pleasant experience with the shorter rudder blade (which works in a rudimentary sort of way). The GPS tells me its position may be inaccurate. 55.58N, 003.32W. We shall see. The time, it tells me, is both 18.06 and 17.06.
I will not be winning the log prize this year!

Tina Harris

Mouse

We planned the wee cruise to co-inside with the opening of the new Wick Marina, departing Finechty on Thursday 25th June. Neil and Bill Shillitto crewed on Fusion 2 and Mairi crewed with Bob Lawton on Sparkle. We set off for Helmsdale at about 1.30pm on Thursday and the weather was hot, sunny and gorgeous. Sea state calm, winds light to moderate. The winds were southerly so we hoisted the spinnakers and took off. As we ate up the miles it was clear that Fusion was doing better with her chute than we were doing on Sparkle, with the spinnaker, however, Sparkle was actually heading for Helmsdale whilst Fusion was more set on a course for Wick! I do remember from my Day Skipper course how to go from A to B, in a straight line, being the quickest option!!!! Neil and Bill were having a belter of a sail though but destined for somewhere else, far, far away.

The nearer we got to Helmsdale the more the wind got up and the sea state started to get a bit lumpy as the waves bounced back at us from hitting the cliffs. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Fusion's spinnaker getting dumped! We were sailing with just the mainsail up on Sparkle, with about 25 knots of wind up our backsides as we covered the final few miles and we had earlier rigged a preventor just in case we took a gibe but fortunately that did not happen. "Got the tee-shirt for that one", says Mairi. Bill and Neil had spotted a mainsail closing in on them really fast and decided that it was not Sparkle but a bigger boat and they couldn't believe how much ground we suddenly made up on them. Sparkle can really fly in the right conditions when she's let loose to do her thing you know, we were hitting 7 and a half knots.

I heard Neil shout up the Helmsdale harbour master, Alex, on the radio,
only to be told that there was not enough water to get in so we had to faff about outside in the bay, riding up and down the surf for an hour before Neil lost his patience and took Fusion in. Fusion was closely followed by Sparkle! We went straight to the pub, only to discover from Sky TV that Michael Jackson had died - oh dearie me! Even worse, than that, the pub meals had finished so it was back to the boat for ships biscuits and cheese. We had a warm welcome at Helmsdale as always from Alex the Harbourmaster and we enjoyed our short stay in the scenic location.

The following day we set sail, with the tide, bound for Wick and the opening of the new marina, there was not a cloud in the sky and it was scorching hot, so we motor sailed and sunbathed all the way up. This time Bill went on Sparkle and I went on Fusion 2. We approached Wick just as the newly crowned, Herring Queen was coming out of the harbour on the "Isabella Fortuna", but we declined to join in the parade as we just needed real, hot, food. We spent two days in Wick and had a super time. Fred and Angus have already given you the story so I won't repeat.

Fusion 2 departed for Orkney on Sunday and we accompanied the parade of "everything that could float out of Wick harbour". I heard a local man say, "Wick will never see the likes of this again". I had to agree with him, Wick probably would never see such a spectacle again. It was amazing to be a part of it and there are a couple of photos attached for you.

George Craigen of Banff Sailing Club accompanied us to Orkney, his yacht is a Bavaria 32, named, "About Time". I accompanied George on the journey from Wick to Longhope. Not that I was much of much assistance in the flat calm conditions. Our spare crew member Mr Auto Helm did most of the hard work. We got the usual warm welcome at Longhope and once we were safely moored up, we headed straight for the pub for food - yes, you guessed it, no food!!!!!!! Back to the boats for more ships biscuits and cheese. We stayed for a couple of days and the boys did some sightseeing at the Lyness museum but I saw it last year so I decided that sunbathing was a more favourable option. Whilst in Longhope we were given a guided tour of the super, new computer operated lifeboat , "Ellen Cormie" by the relief coxswain. The boat is just incredible, so high tech. The words Star Ship Enterprise spring to mind. When responding to an emergency, the first crewmember aboard her hits a button and "bingo" the computer starts up and she is ready to go to sea in minutes. Computers govern all sea charts etc. and access is restricted. There is no steering wheel, everything happens from a stick/mouse, attached to the arm of the driver's chair! I honestly expected something far inferior to the Buckie Lifeboat but, in fact, what I saw was quite the opposite! She is obviously built for the severe weather conditions that prevail in the Pentland Firth and beyond and a Degree in IT would help you if you fancied crewing her any time. The Buckie Bear, who has been sailing on Fusion 2 this summer, had his piccie taken on the Ellen Cormie (attached). He is continuing to raise money for the R.N.L.I.

Off up Scapa Flow on yet another bonnie sunny day. This time Bill was on About Time and I was on Fusion 2. We were navigating up the Flow using Mairi's tea towel, purchased last summer, and it was very accurate indeed, showing the wrecks and the small islands!!! No lat. and long. Though, so best beware. We also had the plotter switched on as a back-up, just in case the tea towel went wrong or blew away. We approached Stromness and got moored up for the night. In came the fog…. We had planned to head off at 10.30am the next day so we made the best of the evening by having a meal at the Ferry. The hot, newly cooked food was fantastic and we were just stuffed! We watched Andy Murray winning a match at Wimbledon, and then we headed back for a big sleep. The next morning we set off in patchy fog, which soon became pea soup fog. Our mission was to head out through Hoy Sound and round the Old Man of Hoy, destination, Longhope. The fog soon lifted and we got right in close to The Old Man, photos attached. The weather was calm, sunny and roasting hot. A fisherman shouted to Neil, or maybe it was to me "pit yer claise back on, ye'r scarin awa the fish". Then we set off on our journey once more and the weather kicked up a hooley in Rackwick Bay, where much reefing and dropping of sails was going on aboard both boats. As we rounded the point into the Pentland Firth, the wind dropped away to nothing and once again, we found ourselves in pea soup fog. On went the radar, then as we rounded Cantick Head the sun burst out and it was scorching again with blue skies and a light breeze. We moored up again for the evening at Longhope, safe and sound.

The following day we departed for Wick, in hot and sunny weather with a calm sea state. We sailed down Scapa Flow and out into the Pentland Firth in the first hour of the tide turning. Neil decided to fly the spinnaker and coupled with the pull of tide we flew along just fine. About half way across the firth we spotted ripples on the water, which turned out to be a pod of approximately 20 killer whales, hunting for fish. There were adult whales with dorsal fins of about 1.5 meters tall and babies just curling around beside them. The adults were jumping up out of the sea, head first, then landing on their backs, followed by slamming of their tails against the fish and the sea surface. They were clearly in amongst a shoal of fish and they appeared to be stunning them for the rest of the family to come along and eat. I have attached a photo but not a very good one. None of us captured the blighters on camera very well but we will never forget that scene, it was just amazing, we did get a couple of wee photos of an adult and a baby.

We spent our final night in Wick and again we were disappointed that we did not find a fish and chip shop - open - so we went to the Weatherspoons place, for a change, to eat a Scooby Burger. We departed for Findochty the next day, again in hot conditions and pea soup fog. The fog cleared about 2 miles out of Wick and once again it was blue skies and sunny. We had a cracking sail back and we saw some scary flashes of forked lightening from the Lossie direction on the approaches to South side but thankfully they didn't interfere with our sunbathing for any length of time. We later heard that parts of Inverness, Elgin and Buckie were flooded that same afternoon, and we missed the downpours being out at sea.

We definitely cashed in on the best week of weather in 2009 and we had the most memorable trip to Orkney, I don't suppose it will ever be that good again. Who on earth needs to pay for hiring a yacht in Turkey when you can sail your own yacht on your own doorstep, see rare wildlife and get a week of blissful weather conditions to boot?

Mairi Innes
Fusion 2

With a modicum of tide, in Portsoy's inner harbour, you think, would be safe enough, with bilge keels.
Not so. There is a dip in the seabed which will pitch you to kingdom come. So when it comes to bedding down you must remember the Boy Scout motto and Be Prepared.
I am tucked up in my sleeping bag on the port side, which is the way I will be heading when we begin to go sideways.
An arm extends in, and hands me the washing up bowl. For the drips, comes the voice at the other end of the arm.
There are always drips.
And then I remember, one very wet night aboard Gipsy in Seaport Marina. The drips are recalled, one by one; their passage and their effect.
There is a blue flashing light coming from my bag, which will be an incoming text. No reception down here with the tide going out, I remember. We had been ondeck discussing Wimbledon when the midges joined us, earlier in the evening. Now I am itching. Getting wet as well is not an option.
The rain has begun.
An hour later the drip becomes a trickle. On the shoulder and down the arm. He has put up with this for years. Not me, I can't live with it for ten minutes. With the help of a large towel, I stem the flow by stuffing one end of it into the port side of the fore hatch, and running it across to the bulkhead, where I attach its loop to a hook. The idea is to reduce the drips by allowing them to be soaked up by the towel. Simple.
I snuggle down, for the moment warm and dry, with no more interference.

In the morning there is a good list to port. She has taken the ground with her bilge keels at different levels, causing her to lean precariously away from the harbour wall. No one can function at this angle, and the necessities will have to be dealt with onshore. The heads are locked, he wails, climbing down the ladder.
So no joy there.
Showers, if any, are well camouflaged. Whilst looking for something else, I find his teeth under the ripstop tape.
The sun comes out at 09.30, and I forget the list, and the drips, for a while. I have a chat with the harbourmaster from Wick. What did you think of our facilities, he asks, remembering me from last week at his harbourfest in Wick.
The vegetation continues to grow on the harbour wall as I make my comments.
The crew from the boat rafted on the outside of Gipsy arrive clean and showered. They have taken on water in the night and begin baling furiously.

So here we are, at ten in the morning, having motored some half a mile off, with no wind, listening to the bagpipes. The sun is hot, and perhaps this is just too relaxing. Out comes the gin and tonic. Sadly, no ice.
You know you have had one too many when you think you can see fishes swimming about in the compass.
Slightly more alarming when these comments come from your friends too.

Exhausted by five, we hang the little red water taxi back on the davits (there is another story altogether about the davits), and prepare once more for the night. And another falling tide. This time he attaches the jib halyard to a bollard, high on the harbour wall, and follows this with a ten-minute lecture on quantum mechanics.

About to enjoy an early night, I curl up in the forepeak to the tune of voices, in the general direction of our port bow. There was a mooring buoy in this particular spot, but now it appears to be underneath a thirty-foot wooden boat, wrapped round their prop. I am out of the fore hatch in pyjamas, taking their stern line and cleating it on to the little dinghy rafted next to us. An unstable affair. It is getting dark and chilly. I go below for a fleece and when I return to the deck there is a half naked Norwegian sprawled over the side of an inflatable with a hacksaw.
He goes into the water, reminding the owner not to flush the heads as he is under the outfall. It is too dark to watch. By first light the boat has berthed successfully and the mooring buoy is hiding in the corner, no longer attached to its ground tackle or the unsuspecting propeller.

Waking up on Sunday I am in much the same position, in my portside forepeak berth at an unladylike angle. About fifteen degrees off the harbour wall. Transforming the forepeak temporarily to en suite, I attempt to make use of the facilities and put on some clean clothes.
I smell like the remains of yesterday's kippers, and prepare myself for a day of enforced solitude. A bacon and egg roll has jumped into my hand by nine (I have been training them to do this), and by ten I have reluctantly decided to jump ship, in order to preserve not only my sanity but also that of the remaining crew.
There is rampant lethargy. I sit on the deck until I can cope with the upright position. This is a common affliction caused by sleeping in far too many forepeaks.
The Scottish Traditional Boat Festival programme sits limp on the side deck. There are a few stalwarts at the community hymn singing. I go for a walk in search of my lost youth, and after a last pint, wave Gipsy off as she makes the return passage to Findochty.
Tina Harris (aboard Gipsy Maiden)

My passage plan was complete until we decided to go four hours early. However, life, for the moment is just at the right speed, and Wick tides are 47 minutes before Buckie, and this is Thursday.
In case of emergencies I pack the big torch and the first aid kit, adding to those already aboard. My glow-in-the-dark fleece is in the bag in case I need to be found in a hurry, together with four large bananas to ward off scurvy. The pilot book is missing, presumed on another vessel.

Eating one of the bananas makes the bag slightly less heavy. Two sailing boats pass the house on starboard tack while I am dithering over whether to drive 60 miles to retrieve the pilot book or go without. After all we have done Wick before.
As the boats pass the shipyard they are abeam, reminding me of our passage to St Vaast, when we were in company with a Sigma 33, just before our dramatic rescue by lifeboat off Le Havre.

I leave the house at 11.30, without the pilot book, which includes the port plans for Wick. On the way I call in to the harbour office in Buckie, and he gives me a guide to all ports in Scotland. £25, he says, but free to me!
On board is the new chart plotter, but we appear to be at a loss for paper charts. There are new flares and the temperature is 26 degrees. I join the sun on deck. I notice all the little bits of wood put here and there to prop things up and hold things down.
While he is ashore fetching things I map out a suitable watch rota and cut my toenails in case they puncture my sea boots.
Then I do some fairly unsuccessful tack practice in an inflatable sailing dinghy, round the harbour in circles, and ending up on the beach.

He finds a paper chart but no rubber to erase our last headings to Wick. I give him one of my deck shoes, so he can complete the task with the help of its rubber sole. Unfortunately it is wet due to the episode in the dinghy, and removes more than the pencil plots.
The other crew arrives an hour late. We leave Findochty in bright sunshine and temperatures high in the twenties, in a heavy swell. Port tack, one reef, and no radio contact. I have a chat with Aberdeen coast guard on the phone. There is a bank of fog; windforce that I log as F6, but later find out it was F7. Short lived, and we pass Beatrice in a slightly calmer sea. Alas though, the tide now runs against us, making our passage slow.
Autohelm on and lighthouse in sight, we sit and wait, once more, for Wick, some fifteen miles off. Gipsy is taking water at some alarming rate, and we pump and mop furiously. There is seaweed and bits of shell seeping up through the floor.
Just on the approach the engine kicks out black smoke. It is 03.45, and it is with no surprise that I replace the transmitter unable to raise the harbourmaster on Ch14.

I wake up in full thermals in two sleeping bags. Never less in the most comfortable forepeak. In the next berth is Dormouse, but while I am in the shower, Gipsy moves, and shacks up next to About Time, whose skipper lives just up the road from me.
I have him up Gipsy's mast by nine, retrieving the flag halyard, which I let fly.
A quick call to the coast guard in Aberdeen celebrating our arrival, apologising for the delay, which was due to four hours' sleep. They understand.
It is hard to believe that this time last week I was on the west coast of Wales with the fleet sailing to Fort William.
44.2NM to Wick, I discover, from the new electronic brain. Ten hours. The book of port plans donated by the harbourmaster in Buckie remains unopened.
Wick lifeboat men and an Irishman join us for lunchtime drinks, after we visit Dormouse and reminisce about our rendezvous in Cromarty 2007.
In the unfortunate knowledge that I have to be home by Sunday, I wander into Wick to find a bus timetable. I have considerable difficulty trying to jump ship, and I am persuaded in the end to sail the boat back with the crew. We cannot do it alone, they wail. Looking at the state of them by bedtime, as they fall asleep in Witherspoons, I believe it.

The snoring was coming from your side of the forepeak, they both agree, over a large breakfast. It was About Time, I tell them. I never snore. I sing the praises of the breakfast chef by way of changing the subject, and agree to sail them home. If only every day started with a bacon and egg roll.
I ring Aberdeen coastguard for a weather check, and prepare to leave, beginning at 58.26N, 003.8W. The prediction is E to ESE 4-5, possibly 6, slight to moderate, occasional showers.

The back passage. Up go the sails, as I steer Gipsy reluctantly out of Wick. I have the T-shirt. After cutting off a considerable corner of the plot, I turn right and head down and away from the coast of Caithness. Various articles including the Ports of Scotland and a length of rope have jumped onto the chart table on their way to the floor, which as we speak is beginning to fill with water again. Coming in waves, he tells me, hunting for the leak.
After a while we trace the seepage to the cockpit drain, easily seen in daylight. Plugged with the dishcloth we carry on towards the Smith Bank. The seas are much more moderate than on the up run. We are on a close reach, and will be for the duration unless there is a wind shift.
We're doing about half an hour to a square, says the novice crew, pressing buttons on the new chart plotter before it fixes in one position and will not move again. I carry on with the paper chart. Auto helm all the way. However, we do not escape the predicted F6.
We can see Scotland, he says, taking the helm with an hour to go. He can count the bricks in the harbour wall, he tells us.
The sun is out and by the time we arrive in the homeport the temperature is in the mid twenties again. Off with the oilies on the way to the onshore heads, and then home. By the time I reach Banff I remember the cakes in Gipsy's oven, that we forgot about.
Again I ring Aberdeen coast guard to tell them we are back safe and well. Its nice for us to get good news, she says, and hopes I have a good evening.

Tina Harris (Aboard, Gipsy Maiden.)

Angus and I decided to sail to Wick on Friday lunchtime so I prepared Solan with all the necessary supplies for the trip and waited until 1.30pm when Angus finished work. When he arrived he got his gear aboard and off we went.
Motoring out of Finechty we quickly got our sails up and cut the engine to catch the easterly breeze. At first it looked like progress would be slow under sail alone but the breeze picked up and soon we were fairly belting along on a broad reach in a fairly flat sea - ideal conditions. Visibility wasn't up to much so we soon lost sight of land, nothing could be seen ahead or behind us for most of the way to the Beatrice Oil Field.
This was the longest part of our journey and it seemed ages before a platform structure appeared out of the gloom. We had set a waypoint just to the East of it, but as we progressed we became aware of another structure ahead and to our starboard, this wasn't there on a previous trip and turned out to be some sort of satellite station. Anyway we passed it leaving it a few miles to the East.

Having cleared the Oil Field we found that the tide, which had been favourable earlier, was now giving us a very definite push towards our destination. We were positively flying and after an hour or two we made out the welcome sight of the coast on our Port side and as we travelled along it details on the coast gradually became clearer as we converged on it towards our final waypoint in Wick bay. The passage took us an incredible 7 hours 50 minutes.

We called up Wick harbour on the radio and were told to come in where we would be met at the last pontoon and shown to our berth. Imagine my surprise when our guide announced, on catching our ropes, that he recognised me from when he played badminton with me years before!

Wick Marina turned out to be splendid and we were made most welcome. Already there were a number of Lossie and Finechty boats, namely Sparkle, Fusion II and Gypsy Maiden who had sailed the day before.

On Saturday, we toured around the harbour area visiting the various stalls and displays. Our lunch consisted of Cullen Skink and an ice cream, which kept us going until evening when, courtesy of Angus, we had an evening meal at the Bord de L'eau or as Mairi called it - the "Bordeloo'.

After our meal we went socialising around the Marina and we finished up as guests at the Lifeboat Headquarters thanks to Angus and his Buckie Lifeboat duties.

On Sunday it would have been to our advantage to set off very early in the morning to use a favourable tide in getting home, 4am was mentioned but I exercised my command of the vessel to depart at 9am instead. Leaving at this time, with several other boats, meant that we were punching against the tide at least until the Beatrice Field and this we did and had to motor sail for a time making slow progress. At this stage the boats that left harbour with us were gradually fading into the distance as their courses diverged from ours.

However the tide eventually eased and the easterly wind picked up. We were able to cut our engine again and made much faster progress on the latter part of the journey, arriving back in Finechty just in time for tea.
Fred Murray
Solan.

Mairi and Neil set off to Turkey for the annual foreign sailing trip on 3rd May 2009, just as all the hype was rising in the UK about "swine flu". Turkey being a Muslim country and all that, we had no worries whatsoever, so off we trotted……

Day one - Arrived at Port Bodrum Yalikavak Marina late afternoon to be greeted with beautiful, hot sunshine and a warm welcome by the staff of Aura Yachting. As usual our Dufour Grande Large 325, "Fantastique" was ready and waiting for us and following a quick visit to the supermarket for essential supplies we headed off to the local bars and restaurants where we had an excellent meal of Turkish Meatballs for me and steak for Neil. We are so predictable, Brits abroad and all that. At least it wasn't an all day breakfast!

Day two - Set sail for Altinkum which lies 10 miles north of Yalikavak as the crow flies, in the Ionian sea. The wind was perfect for a deviation to the east into Paradise Bay, where we anchored in 5 meters of water on the gently shelving beach of a holiday village, having successfully dodged several mussel farms, with floating nets, floating baskets and floating "sheddies" - honest! Photographic evidence is attached. Altinkum lies on the ancient coast of Didim, and Neil and I once stayed in a hotel there, a few years back. We headed for the brand new marina, having covered about 25 miles under sail that day, only to find that it was not yet officially open. However, we were made very welcome, and it turned out that we were one of only three yachts moored in the multi million pound complex. The weather changed that night and it started to rain at 6pm. We headed up to the town, which is about 3 miles from the marina, and by the time we got into a restaurant (having jumped on a "dolmus" - translation ="wee bussie"), the rain was torrential. Much to my horror, the rain continued all night and into the following morning. Just not cricket.

Day three- I could not believe it when I woke up and I heard rain battering off of the coach roof - I though for a minute I was in Lossie or Banff or even Wick where such weather conditions prevail! We decided, whist still horrified, to head much further north to Kusadasi as originally planned, however, "my" plan had been to do it wearing my dookers (translation = swimwear) and sun cream. On went the jeans, anoraks and baseball hats and up went the bimini shade (absolutely unheard of) to keep the rain off. The rain did however, eventually stop at lunchtime and down went the bimini shade, and on went the dookers. I was happy once again!!! We had a pretty good sail up to the dogleg of the ancient gulf of Letmos towards the narrow passage of Sisam Bogazi between Turkey and the Greek island of Samos but by the time we approached the coast to go up the narrow channel, the prevailing meltimi winds were absolutely screaming at us, blowing 39 knots from the north straight on our bows (like it says on the tin) and we had to motor for the shelter of the cliffs in order to creep around the corner, as the yacht was slamming up and down on the waves and the speed over the ground was greatly reduced. Once in the sheltered waters between Samos and the Turkey the wind calmed, the sea state went down and it was roasting hot and sunny once again - Oh Happy Days. We covered over 40 sea miles that day and it was pretty hairy going at times. Finally arriving at Kusadasi - a bustling tourist resort that we reckoned had changed almost beyond recognition since we first visited it about 15 years ago. The souks are still there selling the fake designer labels and tatt and the restaurants and bars are still bustling with tourists. The marina is a well established and reasonably priced one and we really enjoyed our stay there, where there appear to be a lot of Americans and Europeans doing "live aboards".

"Kusadasi Weather Forecast" - Please see the accompanying photograph of the chalk board - only Johnny Foreigner could get away with displaying such a forecast, tongue in cheek……..

Day four - Set sail for Cam Limani, and Lebedos Limani, anchorages 15 - 16 miles north west of Kusadasi where we anchored in the bays, in approx. 7 meters of water and we spent the day relaxing in the sun before returning to Kusadasi marina for a second night. The approaches to Kusadasi are quite pretty as there is an ancient fort on a peninsula to the south of the city, known as Bird Island. I seem to remember that "Kus" means "bird" In Turkish and anything with "adasi" after it means "rock" or "island" - hence the name of the city. The only thing that spoils the view of the city is the cruise ship dock. Some of those ships are so big that they blot out the entire landscape and apparently the shop prices double when the ships come in, according to the local Turks.

Day five - an early start "at the sparra's fart" - for a 50-mile passage from Kusadasi, back to the deep south, to Turgetreis in the Carian Sea. The beauty of this particular day was that we sailed the entire passage with the meltimi wind blowing up our chuffs and the boat was never below 6 and a half knots. Oh for a spinnaker…… It was just superb and we arrived in Turgetreis in daylight and in time for supper. This is without doubt the best sail I have ever had and it was roasting hot too - dookers were on! Bimini was firmly folded away!

Day six - we set off for Bodrum, which lies about 7 miles south of Turgetreis, (in the Gulf) in light to moderate wind conditions, where we just pottered around, tacking and sunbathing and relaxing, which suited me just fine. We sailed past Gumbet and the marine area known as the Aquarium then berthed at Bodrum Marina for our penultimate night where we had a good time out on the town, once more feeding on Turkish meatballs……what can I say? Hey ho, depression started to set in as the final day of the holiday dawned.

Day seven - departed Bodrum for an anchorage 10 miles west of Bodrum known as Bitez, which I thought was so picturesque and just gorgeous. There were little, white, sugar cube houses dotted all around the cliffs with lush, green vegetation growing down to the water's edge. I was shocked to see people swimming in the sea as the water is not too warm at the start of May, however not to be outdone, Neil and I decided to go for a swim. It was way too cold, like Finechty harbour on craning in day, so we hurriedly climbed back aboard Fantastique and sunbathed instead. Departing for Gumsuluk for a final visit to the very pretty anchorage, just north of the Gulf of Gokova Korfezi.

And that was the end…nearly....We sailed Fantastique back to Port BodrumYalikavak and the wind kicked up to over 29 knots, just as we were approaching the refuelling pontoon, by the muckle rocks! at the outer wall of the marina. This final task was rather "challenging", however, our mission was a success and we dropped Fantastique, back at Aura Yachting, unscathed. One more night on the tiles was had in Yalikavak and before we knew it we were in Bodrum airport, checking in to fly home. For a summer of sailing and cruising and racing in the Moray Forth and beyond……………

Ps. Can I please have my "electric windlass" competency certificate!

Here's to 2010, when who knows where we'll sail to…………….

Mairi Innes
Secretary

05.45 and its Good Morning Grangemouth! The sea lock keeper is doing his rounds. Nice morning, I say. Might be, he replies. Could snow.
With that in mind, I find a fleece.
There is a passage plan. One I made earlier. It incorporates a 6.5-mile sail, Carron Sea Lock, Grangemouth Yacht Club and two tides. I have a favourable SW to WSW wind in low figures, and rain.
That is the plan.

However there is a hiccup. The canvas has not been tested, and the jib is as we speak is being reinforced after I put my fingers through it on the approach to Bowling Sea Lock some months previously. You will remember the log. In a nutshell.

I have spent several hours trying to get the rudder right (there is another tail here), and having collected my crew, he proceeds to take it off again, re-align it and drop one of my brand new wing nuts into the drink.
However, on the up side, we manage to set off five minutes ahead of schedule, at 09.25.

But after much thought, Mouse does not go Forth. Instead she goes east, to investigate the Falkirk Wheel, for a bit of exercise.
There is a strong wind in the canal and a chill requiring Macs and Wellies. At 12.00, after a busy morning, we stop off at a waterside pub called Lock 16 for a pint of Guinness in a Fosters lager glass, and the usual "other facilities".
For lunch there are banana muffins.

I am sitting, not very warm, in the cockpit trying to decide if the compass works. We have navigated sixteen locks on the Forth Clyde canal, and have almost reached the Wheel. The Findochty Water Sports Club burgee is flying high on the handle of the deck brush, setting a competitive standard. They did not think we would go this far!
Mouse might well be the first 20' sailing boat to transit west to east on the Wheel, or indeed she might be the first Robert Tucker to sit 115 feet above the Scottish countryside suspended in a revolving bathtub, or indeed the first Matilda to be waltzing on water in the sky. I make a note to contact the Guinness Book of Records.

We are the subject of many an interested tourist. Up from the Clyde on a water biscuit, they may think, adjusting their tripods.
In the Ladies I appear to be the only one wearing waterproof trousers and a lifejacket.
At the top of the Wheel we begin our journey on the Union canal, the ancient aquatic highway of the lowlands, heading in the general direction of Edinburgh. There are two tunnels and an aqua duct, but no locks.

The canal is narrow, shallow and full of wildlife. The weather brightens as we embark on the eleven miles to Linlithgow, where Mouse will stop for a while. There is no traffic, save for a moorhen floating past on her nest.
Linlithgow has no loos and no electricity. It has a definite canal feel, though. There are barges, brightly painted, in the basin and along the towpath.

The night is chilly and I wake up early, facing Mecca and the rising sun. The sails are in their bag under my head in the forepeak, which is my personal palace for most voyages.
I make tea and snuggle down again until the runners and walkers and cyclists and dogs begin rush hour on the towpath.
Up and busy by nine, with two new ideas. One is to fathom out how the sea toilet works (very necessary in these conditions), and the other is to shorten the rudder blade. Yesterday it spent most of its time up, and we spent most of ours pushing it down (with the deck brush and attached burgee).

There is a sunny patch at the end of the pontoon, so Mouse and I walk along and tie up.
I have attended to the sea toilet, which now works in a basic sort of way. I reset the fenders with some new rope, and take off the rudder blade whilst finishing off the potato scones from yesterday.
I leave Mouse just after lunch in order to be ready to earn more pennies on Monday for the mooring fees.
Tina Harris
Mouse

Cruise to Portsoy, Sunday 24th May

The promise of sunshine and southerly winds prompted Neil to arrange a Sunday cruise in company to Portsoy "for a pint".

The weather was indeed warm and sunny and the wind was blowing between 10 and 14 knots from the south, creating a flat calm sea surface for us.

There was a good turn out for the occasion, with Fusion 2, Sparkle and Solan taking part, as usual. We also had newcomers to cruising, Olive and Mike on Cutlass and Ed and Ann on Bacchus, a.k.a. Wylo Too.

Our event got off to a good start with a fabulous display of Dolphins, just outside Findochty harbour then we all set sail on what turned out to be a very pleasant journey down to Portsoy with skipper Bert at the helm of Fusion 2, and Neil flying the Spinnaker. Mairi decided to be ballast!!! Sunday is my day off.

We met James Cowie out on the water, sailing Sunrise but we couldn't persuade him to come into Portsoy harbour with us for socialising.

A warm welcome awaited us at the Shore Inn, Portsoy, by Jimmy and his staff who happened to be screening both the Rangers and Celtic games live on TV. The Shore are now doing bar food at the weekends.

We were very popular with the tourists that day, and several photos were taken of our fleet.

When we departed in dribs and drabs to sail back to Findochty the wind had dropped to nothing and we were motor sailing, however, as we opened Cullen Bay the wind picked up considerably and swung round to the southwest. Out came Fusion's jib and we were off! A cracking sail was had to Findochty, doing between 6 and 7 knots all the way back to the harbour. We threw in a final tack to get back in close and then we scraped our way back to the berth just before someone "pulled the plug out of the bath".

Neil and Mairi decided to rescue Louis the collie dog's tennis ball from the harbour in front of a bemused audience, using utensils such as a 28 and a half feet yacht, a sweeping brush and plastic scoop holder to retrieve the ball before returning Fusion to her berth. Not many dogs such get such loving attention as that one does. I've lost count of the amount of times we have fished his toys out of the water.

A quick tidy up was done and then we headed to the Howff to try out the new barbeque. The cooking went well and we had some of the usual fayre, clapped between a softie. What a way to round off a fantastic day. Even the chefs from the Admirals came over for a burger. I am sure that the smell of Bob's cooking was "gan roon their herts like a hairy worm".

The barbeque is available to all club members to use at the Howff building. No coals are required. Please just give it a clean when you are finished with it, using the cleaning materials supplied.

Here's looking forward to a summer of sunshine, sailing and barbeques…

Mairi Innes
Secretary

The first race of the season was held on Sunday and seven boats took part in what turned out to be quite an exciting and lively one. The weather had settled considerably from the unpleasant conditions of the day before but there was still a stiff breeze from the south. The sun shone though and that made all the difference to everyone.
Most of the boats started under full sail but it soon became apparent that at least one reef would have been better as the wind increased as time passed. No one wanted to give away any advantage and the wind was fluctuating so there was plenty of canvas to be seen.
A close group of boats vied with one another to get across the line and get a good start, and then they were off positively flying in a tight group. As they went I could see one boat scooping up water with its genoa as it was caught in a gust of wind.
The first turn was off the mile marker to the east of Finechty then returning through the start gate and on to Buckie where the boats turned on a line from the big lighthouse on the pier and the East Mucks then returning to pass through the start line again. This last part turned out to be quite awkward as, while the racing was pretty close, most boats had to throw in an extra tack just to get over the line.
The exception to this was achieved ably by Ron Billings who, despite a bad start, managed to make up a bit of ground, particularly at the finishing line, by not having to tack and therefore saving valuable time. Unfortunately Ron missed going through the starting gate in the middle of the race as required and unfortunately was disqualified as a result.
Very hard lines Ron as it was difficult to see the marker buoys in the glare of the water ------Should have gone to spec-savers!
Fred Murray

John Barclay and Robert Morrice launched harmony on Saturday 11 April at 7 am in Buckie harbour as I was on holiday in England.
Within an hour John and Robert left for Inverness. Unfortunately by the time they reached Lossiemouth the wind was on their nose and they had a 10-hour trip hugging the coast to avoid the worst of the motion.
The decks were swept from stem to stern occasionally and they were pleased to arrive at Clachnaharry sea loch by about 6 pm where Fred Murray met them to assist through the canal.

The trip through the canal was very slow particularly at Fort Augustus, and the large number of hire cruisers on the canal due to it being a Bank Holiday weekend affected progress badly so much so that it was Monday afternoon before they reached the bottom of Neptune's Staircase. Harmony was left in the reach before the Corpach sea loch basin until the next weekend when Fred and John took Harmony onwards to its summer mooring at Loch Aline.

They had a good trip in lovely weather and reinstated Harmony's mooring for the summer before being met by John's wife Tricia who had driven over and brought them home.

On the first weekend of May myself, Fred and John set off to Loch Aline for the long Bank Holiday weekend. The forecast was poor and so it turned out to be. Our plans to sail down to Crinan and Loch Craignish had to be abandoned in the face of strong west to south-westerly winds between force 6 to 7. Instead we played in the Sound of Mull, which is sheltered from the worst of the motion.
Saturday we beat up the Sound 12 miles to Tobermory with 3 reefs and a well rolled up headsail at 6 to 6.5 knots. We had a late brunch anchored at Tobermory and John and Fred rowed ashore for a walk around and a pint. I relaxed in the sunshine and watched the seaplane
between Glasgow and Tobermory land and take off again. As the forecast spoke about the wind becoming north-westerly later we abandoned Tobermory and had a fast reach back to Loch Aline for dinner on board before bed. There were a lot of strong gusts felt through the night and early morning. Next morning the forecast was no better leaving us with no choice but another play around in the Sound.
Again it was 3 reefs but with more wind, we did not know the strength because the wind cones got blown of the top of the mast by the second tack. We tacked up the Sound of Mull for maybe 3 hours in very fresh conditions until we got fed up and turned about and had a sleigh ride back to Loch Aline fortified with bacon and sausage butties. It rained that night but we were snug on our mooring and enjoyed our dinner and drinks. Again it blew strong through the night and we woke up to a wet and windy dawn again. After a light breakfast we tidied up and rowed ashore and drove the long road home. - Not our best weekend !

Phil Brown

After the usual post season jobs in 2008 carried out on Harmony such as stripping of off sails, spray hood, dodgers, tiller, autohelms, anchors, warps, fenders, oilies, bedding, dinghy and assorted accumulated junk it was time to look at jobs to be done.

The routine tasks such as as oil and filter changes, adjustment of the alternator belt, checking of gearbox oil levels and replacement of engine heat exchanger anodes were carried out and a list of made of other jobs.

Additional winches were fitted in the cockpit dedicated to handling the spinnaker; this proved a relatively simple job with access to one via the cockpit locker and the other through dismantling the quarter berth headlining. The deck light had packed up during last season so another was sourced and John sent up the mast in the bosuns chair to fit it. The mechanical wind indicator on the top of the mast was found broken in the cockpit one day during the winter so being too mean to buy another this was repaired with epoxy glue and John sent up the mast to refit it. Being 40 feet above the deck our repair is hopefully invisible.

The interior was scrubbed and cleaned from stem to stern and batteries put on charge regularly. The hull gel coat was starting to look a little faded and a decision was made to use a fine cutting compound and a foam G mop to take off the surface dullness. This had not been done since 1991, the second year after we bought the boat. After
setting up staging around the hull at a sensible working height I applied the polishing mop using it wet fitted into a slow/medium speed electric angle drill and the messy job begun. This took most of the day and ending up with me looking like a Dalmatian with the spots in reverse. After a hose down and wipe over with a soft brush the hull
was gleaming despite the scars of 20 years of cruising. Another 5 hours applying non-silicon based polish and a shine up with dusters and the job was done. The propeller was given a burnish with emery paper and the sacrificial shaft anode replaced.

Harmony was also due a full "out of water" survey for insurance purposes, the last one having been carried out 10 years previous.
The survey was carried out at the beginning of March and found the boat in good condition with negligible to nil evidence of moisture in the hull laminate and just 3 recommendations. These recommendations related to replacement of the cooker flexible hose with an appropriate section indicating its date of manufacture, the seacock for the galley sink, which had seized and our flares which (although numerous) were
out of date.

Antifouling was applied mid March and the blue waterline stripe touched up with paint. Then began the long process of putting everything back aboard via the ladder for the new season. Sails bent on, inflatable dinghy deflated and put in its carry bag, the onerous task of tying on the dodgers with a thousand tie wraps, carrying all
the paraphernalia back on board including fresh towels and flannels from our wives. The stores were well stocked up with a plenty of boxes of beer (its much easier to carry these up the ladder into the boat at the beginning of the season, rather than carrying soggy wet cardboard boxes in a tender out to the boat on her mooring on a "soft"
west coast evening).

A check on John's tractor and our lorry chassis that Harmony sits on in its winter yard to ensure everything is working as it should and we are ready for the crane. Then off we go again hopefully for a fine run up to Inverness and a relaxed cruise through the Caledonian Canal, then on to our summer mooring at Loch Aline, Sound of Mull for our
twenty first season of west coast cruising.
Phil Brown

I was very fortunate to escape the icy grip of mid winter in the North of Scotland and join my family on a trip to South America including a 15-night passage around the tip of South America. Unfortunately our boat carried no sail but as some compensation was capable of steaming at 25 knots, more usually cruising at 18 knots. She was the” Radiance of the Seas” a beautiful cruise ship, built exactly to the maximum dimensions of the Panama Canal (a “PANAMAX” vessel) We embarked in the tropical climes of Santos, Brazil and after brief stops in Uruguay and Argentina and sailing for eight days and 2,400 nautical miles we arrived at the island of Cabo de Hornos.

Lying at latitude of 56 degrees south (longitude 66 west) this is less distance from the equator than Findochty but what a wild and windy spot! Even in late December in the middle of the Southern summer temperatures rarely exceed 12 degrees C and the westerly winds are unrelenting. The Admiralty routing chart for December shows a blue jagged line to the north marking the Northern iceberg limit. To the south lies the Drake Passage the most notorious part of the dreaded Southern Ocean. The island itself is about 10 miles in diameter and rises in the south to cliffs at 400 meters altitude. Ashore there is a lighthouse, Chilean coastguard station, a memorial to all the seamen who have died making the passage and a large marker signifying the passage.

We were fortunate to see the Cape in mild conditions. The sun was out, wind about 16 knots and wave height less than 2 meters, the circumnavigation would have been ideal for a club race although I still bet Vivari or Bramble would have won! A ritual on cruise ships here is the “Penguin Parade”, unheated seawater is pumped in to the open air pool and those who wish to can have a swim and are given a wee certificate from the captain. Personally I can vouch this is nothing when compared to Burghead harbour on Boxing Day.

Having rounded the Horn we then made for the Beagle Channel, Tierra del Fuego and the Magellan Straits. Finally we cruised the stunningly beautiful Patagonian fjords and disembarked in Valparaiso. The total trip was just under 5000 nm and even Kathryn who can become seasick at the mere suggestion of walking on to a boat had no problems at all. For Jenna and Kirsten this was a formative experience and I can heartily recommend the “cruising experience” to all my fellow cruise novices.

Angus Gallacher

Kentra

Skippers Deliver 

On Thursday 23 November 1995 I was bundled into a Volvo with two other skippers and driven at great speed fromDumbarton To Fleetwood. For the life of me I can’t remember why I was in Dumbarton.

Once in Fleetwood we just made it onto the ferry for Douglas, and fetched up, as you would, in the cafeteria. Here we met two more skippers who would accompany us on this delivery trip. We sat eating chocolate muffins and drinking coffee.

I remember being in a pub, and then in a taxi, heading to Port St Mary. On a small bridge the driver stopped. You must say hello to the fairies, he said. I think that’s what he said.

Once in Port St Mary we embarked onto a thirty-one foot catamaran called Sea Legs. This was to be our aquatic home for the next few days. There were two lazarette berths, but I was not quick enough, ending up having to share the main saloon with another skipper. We picked our space, and bedded down for the night. Sometime in the middle of this dark and cold night Sea Legs took the ground. There was an enormous thump, and then another, as her twin keels settles somewhat unevenly on the seabed.

In the morning I found myself in the prettiest of little harbours, and the sun was out. Skippers in boilersuits, making toast, one in the heads and one halfway up the harbour wall.

We have a leaky gasket in the water pump one of them says. He set off for a chandlery, or hardware shop. He came back an hour later with a couple of cartons of milk and some local cheese. No gaskets. We’ll have to improvise. During this improvisation someone drove a heavy foot onto the fuel line. This disconnected something else, which appeared to be the morse cable. They took some persuading, but I convinced them this would work if we used clothes pegs, adding and subtracting them according to how much welly was needed.

Worked a dream. 

The gasket was another problem altogether.  The water pump was leaking too much to put to sea. Having emptied the last of the milk cartons, another brainwave struck. Make the gasket out of the carton. The pump was dismantled, and a gasket cut to size. I carefully laid this on the deck whilst I groped under the engine for something to hold on to. In this time, our new gasket took it upon itself to blow away over the side. We were scuppered!

The water pump was now in bits, and the original one was in several pieces.

One of the skippers had to go back to Douglas, via the crazy fairies. He came back with an entire new pump. 

On Saturday lunchtime we cast off with the wind from the east, and F2. Lovely! Under power we headed through the Calf of Man, and I am up the mast freeing the main halyard. There was a heavy sea ahead, and down I came with a thud, landing on the port side, camera round neck, having just taken a most beautiful shot of the lighthouse!

At 21.00 we finally got some sail up. I was on the helm and changed course round Mew Island. I ended up in Bangor Marina just short of midnight, too cold to try out their new hot showers. 

On the Sunday the pontoon was covered in ice. We motor sailed on 394 degrees (034? Bob) for a few hours, during which I was chained to the galley by the oldest of the skippers, probably because I was the only female. So I spent several hours feeding people soup and bread through a little gap in the bulkhead. The larger of the skippers was on the helm.

The skipper who was skippering was ill, his role was duly assumed by the oldest skipper, by default. I became the galley slave, the gofer, the logger, the bosun, and occasionally the parrot. Repeat the course back to me please, he insisted.

This is where I fell asleep.

The next I knew we had tied up in Rhu marina and it was four a.m. 

The reason for this delivery, the first of three, was to get Sea Legs through the Caledonian Canal to the east coast, for my benefit! 

The reason for adding this extract to the newsletter is that, once more, this weekend I find myself fighting with a similar morse cable. Unfortunately this one cannot be fixed with clothes pegs!!

Tina Harris

Lotus Log
Portishead (Bristol) tae Buckie

After lengthy research on the Internet, readin reports and lookin at photos and drawins, we decided that the boat we wanted ti replace Lolita, would probably be a Barbican 30. We identified 5 fae the lists a boats for sale and flew ti Bristol ti hae a look at them ower a 10day holiday. After lookin at ane at Portishead, 3 at Plymouth and ane at Gosport we decided ti mak an offer for Lotus at Portishead. Phill and Di, who were an absolute pleasure to meet and deal with, accepted wir offer, so we headed hame for a couple of weeks ti complete the paperwork and organise the trip hame.

I wis very keen ti sail the boat hame, but, did consider truckin, until the quotes came in, thereafter the decision was easy.Trucking is expensive.!

At very short notice, Chief Engineer Ian Morrison agreed ti ma request for him ti jine me for the trip hame. On the 25th Oct we hopped on an Easyjet ti Bristol with 42 kgs between us at Inverness. We hired a car at Bristol airport for 2 days, as the bus service is poor, as is engineer's navigation. It took us 2hrs ti git the 15miles ti Portishead! but saw some bonny countryside covering the logged 50 mile .

At 9.30 the next morning, the travel hoist put the boat inti the marina wi nae fuss. Usin a cherrypicker wi an extendin airm that I thocht wis rare, (bit Ian wisna si sure aboot) the mast was stepped affa easy. We spent the rest o' the day bennin on sails an stowin the heap a gear that Phill an Di wir cairtin doon. We knocked aff aboot 5 for coffee/dram and ti say wir cheerio's ti Phill and Di. Somebody,---who hid printed oot road maps for a' ower merry England,----suggested that we shid go ti Asda at Bristol for wir stores an beddin. Armed wi another o his
lists we went for mair toorin roon the bonny countyside !! Oh me!!!! Hooever ,the chief judged the mission a success as he had managed tae slip twa bottles o' Black and White and a curn "John Smiths " (apt) , intae the trolley under the doovie we had tae buy due to plane luggage limitations.

Next day Sat 27th, we scuttert aboot and late efterneen, efter pittin mair ticks on Ian's list
we hoisted the Saltire on the starn and moved ti the fuel berth ti top up. We had aquired twa 5 gal drums athoot lids for spare fuel as we had decided ti motor if required, bearin in mind it wis gittin late in the season, an we were keen ti git north inti familiar waters. We filled the tank an the drums wi nae lids. I suggested we tape a marigold glove ower the openins, bit the Chief, wi his superior knowledge of things diesel, said he wid prefer ti use FL's wi a plastic cup taped on top. His department!!! Fin we came ti use the spare fuel only the cup remained. Lesson-Keep yir contraceptives clear a diesel!

Big tides in the Bristol Channel. 48 ft drop at Portishead that day.We were advised to leave around 1 hour afore high water so at 1800 we locked inti a canyon of a lock. However the operation was easy as we tied to a pontoon which was on guides and moved with the changing level .We sailed at 1830 Sat 27th Oct wi St Andrew flutterin at the staff and hugged the Sooth shore ti keep clear o the tide until the ebb came on. Flat calm, so motorin at 2200 revs, 5.2 knots. Efter an hour, we slipped oot inti the channel and picked up ti 9/10 knots and set the watch. Very little traffic. A bonny warm starry nicht. Speed back to 4 knots for a while durin the nicht but up ti 8 by fry up time. Still calm.

Slight haze durin the morning (28th) but warm sun seen cleared it. Dolphins passin for an oor or so. I wid estimate 150/200 and they were a' headin east up channel. A very light northerly set in and we hoisted the main, but the flat calm returned within an oor. Early pm, it wis pretty warm so I took the sark aff for an oor. The autohelm had been steerin since we left Portishead, so the watchkeeper had a relaxin time watchin the world go bye. As we came out o the Channel and were passin Skokholm and Skomer we had a foul tide and were doon ti 2/3 knots for a file. Plenty sea anglers aboot and bonny scenery.

The original plan was ti go north up the Welsh coast ti Angelsey then probably Port St Mary I.O.M but the forecast wis west ti norwest fresh ti gale for a few days so we headed across the 80 miles ti Arklow Ireland, passin South Bishop at 15.30. By 20.00 it wis bouncy kine bit Lotus wis gan fine and we had the chilli bubblin. A bit of spray and rain noo and thers a sma leak at the heads hatch an also at the tail end. Greaser feels stiff (nae the chief )so hae ti pit in fresh grease! It wis a poor cal nicht as we approached the sooth end o' the Arklow Bank and ran up the inside o' the biggest offshore wind farm in Irish waters.
As we approached the hairber at 0400 we had fit wis probably a worthless debate aboot the leadin/nav lichts. We're baith colour blin!!! We tied up in the workin basin at 05.00 on Mon 29th Sept. Efter a few hours sleep I went up to pay the 10 euros for the berth. Relief HM wisna very forthcommin wi local info, so left him to it! Fuel tank was filled again by cairtin drums o' diesel doon tae the boat ,the chief makin plenty fancy calculations aboot oor fuel consumption which was slightly over a litre per hour at 2200 rpm. We had a wanner up the toon tae top up stores and as The Chief wis needin a shower we tried ti find the swimming pool. As we crossed the bridge we stopped a local worthy ti ask directions and efter bein telt ti "listen intently" ( are ye F*****n listnin !!?) Ian wis on his way, and wid be back for sailin wi the tide at 17. 00. I got the stores an headed back ti the boat. Ian arrived back at 16. 00 full o' the joys and wi the info that 7 pints of stout only cost him 5 euros. I dinna ken hoo he dis it but if yi tak a pint, book yir hols at Arklow!!!!

Sailed on time wi a strong sou westerly breeze wi a strong tide under us.so we put in a reef in the main and let her run --Perfect sailin. After a hearty meal Ian turned in under his massive downie and I settled doon for the watch ti Howth(40 odd miles fae Arklow). Good sailin for most o the way but had ti roll in a bit o the genny as we came up ti Dublin Bay. Hand steered most o' the way and found Lotus a handy boat ti work. Plenty banks wi bouys, flashin lichts a' the wye north and quite a bit o ferry traffic as we crossed Dublin Bay. We tied up alongside a big visiting boat in a very busy Howth Marina at 23.00, Mon 29th. Had a dram and yarned till 3am.---- Black and White severely depleted !!

Next morning I went ti the office ti see if we cid git a berth for a few days as the forecast wis very poor. The man said they were full and suggested we try Malahide a few miles up the coast. W gale by this time and probably he felt sorry for 2 allish Jocks and found a berth for us up the hairber. Twiddled the thumbs there for 3 days, gale most o the time. Ivery time The Chief said "I think it's easin, --lets run up tae Formaldehide cos it'll be cheaper" we got a fresh man at the bellows and it bloody howled!

I payed the dues and efter dryin ma een (28 euros a nicht) we sailed oot bye Irelands Eye for Bangor Northern Ireland at 14.00 Frid 3rd Oct. Wind still NW so motor sailing. Passed Rockabill at 17. 30 still punchin . Forecast is westerly, then sw 14/18kts. roll on. Gan ti be a lang nicht. It was! Abreast of St Johns, the wind freshened fae the ssw, 20/25kts fine on the port quarter. Tricky steerin for a while as we had wind inti tide for a few hours wi a fair swell up the bum. As we swung west up Belfast Loch the wind veered west so it wis a poke a' the wye. Tied up in Bangor Marina at 08.00 Sat 4th Oct. Big marina --Plenty berths. Strong wind until Sunday pm. The chief explored and soon found the nearest hostelry !!

Left Bangor at 19.00 Sun 5th Oct. bound for Corpach. Licht westerly so motor sailing wi the sea surprisingly calm. Rathlin light was sweepin just o'er the horizon awa tae the North.
The QE 2 passed as we approached the Mull Of Kintyre at 04.00. Picked up tide there and made good speed north up bye Gigha . The Chief wis fair impressed wi the two big hills on Jura wi the bonny names. Wind freshened fae the sw, and it was very bouncy abreast o' the Corryvrechan. Kept close to the east shore and managed ti bore a foul tide. Then it wis through the Luing narrows ,up by loch Feochan and intae the Kerrera marina ,Oban at 16.30 Mon for 20litres mair diesel.
Twenty meenits later we were backon he road tae Corpach .Hivna sailed in the dark in this waters athoot radar, bit we managed fine. Tied up ootside the lock at 22.30. The pontoon ootside the lock wis awfy poorly lighted.Nae lichts atta',but wi a han and guidance fae anither pair o' yachtie ramblers we got on tae the pontoon.

Locked in at 08.00 Tues 7th Oct. and up tae the Benavie locks --nae bather apairt fae The Chief, ( smooth talker ) insultin the nice lady lockkeeper by suggestin she wisna The Boss. Ane ti mind aboot lads !
A Banff wifies ramblin club ( Chiefs age group ) that hid kent Keith Mclean fae Turra chatted tae us on the wye up Neptunes stair and we got tae the top just afore denner time A fairly uneventful run up the canal and the lock keeper at Kytra kindly let us through just afore he knocked off. A meal ashore wi a pint efter we tied up at the Fort saw us get a fit on hallowed grun again efter a fairly intensive couple o days.
First thing in the mornin we got doon the locks wi a big Irish fishin boat, and tied up at thebottom. Chief went ashore for mair sausages an black puddin ( conned the butcher oot o, seventeen pence as he wis short o' cash again --we should ging back an pay him sometime )
then had a grand sail down Loch Ness, close enbye Urquhart Castle. Eddie Malcolm wis fair surprised when the Chief shouted tae him as we passed his moorins in the canal.
Tied up at Muirton marina at 15.00 Wed 8th Oct. and got the bus hame for a few days.
The chief had his bus pass but I had tae paye !!

Took train back up ti Inverness on Sat 11th Oct. wi Mo for the last leg hame. Hid a fine nicht oot in INS. and efter breakfast on Sunday, let go fae the pontoon. Locked oot o' the sealock at 10.30 (high water) and had a good sail wi a fresh sw wind a' the way hame.
Tied up at Buckie harbour on our berth alongside Foam at 18.00.

We enjoyed the trip very much ( me and the Chief are still speakin ) an are afa gled we sailed hame, instead o' trucking!

Summary---Sailin in the Bristol Channel must be challenging at times wi the very strong tides especially if its breezy.There were mair motorboats than yachts in the marina!!!.The tides are strongish on the SE coast of Ireland asweel. Ok, we hiv ti work the tides bit it can be uncomfortable wi wind ower tide. Ivery little hairber in Ireland has a sma marina and its very reachable for a 2/3 week cruise wi a bit a planning.A weekend trip ti Corpach or Oban and yir only twa days fae east or west coast o Ireland wi its bonny black stout!
I hiv ti thank Ian for helping ti git Lotus hame si quick as we hid spells a poor wither.
His keenness ti dee longish overnighters made a' the difference. If we had daysailed it wid've taen a curn days langer

John Smith
Lotus.