Category: 2024

The Day We Became ‘Cleatist’

November 13, 2024 / fiandadrian

A look at the weather showed it would be very quick trip back to UK or perhaps an opportunity to enjoy some harbour time. We decided on the latter.

St Peters Port has an inner harbour with a cill that keeps some water in the harbour at low tide. Once the outside water level is below the cill at low tide, any surge in the outer harbour is kept out. But after about half tide the surge comes through the inner harbour, gently swaying vessels to and fro.

Anticipating a bit of surge, we added some extra dock lines and had just settled down with a cup of tea when there was a metal on metal clunk outside. Hmmm. It took just a moment to notice one of the bow dock lines hanging loose and the remains of the cleat on the dock.

No matter there were a few more cleats we could use. The boat was now surging quite violently and the snatch loads on the cleats were becoming significant. Another boat further down the dock broke a stern line and another ripped a cleat out off its deck. Someone else injured themselves on their boat in the violent surge and was off to hospital.

To reduce the snatch loads we decided to put some longer lines with more stretch across the dock to some unused cleats on the far side of the dock. I was just explaining to another owner how we had broken a cleat when another one parted company with the dock, shot past our legs and smashed into the hull with a bullet like impact. ‘Just like that’ I explained.

The situation was becoming a little more serious as we were running out of cleats to hold the bow which was now enjoying some gusts into the forties and snatch loads from the surging. We were upwind of a number of more delicate fibreglass boats that were going to make that horrible crunching sound if we blew into them.

I noticed $2M worth of Leopard catamaran parked at the end of the fairway. Side on it was an unmissable target. If our bow came loose I imagined the force of the wind would break the stern lines in an instant and Away would head straight for the shiny white fibreglass and happily embed its solid aluminium bowsprit into the catamarans exposed hull. Then what? Would the wind twist Away and lever off a large section of gleaming white hull? I remembered those pictures from the blitz with peoples lounge rooms exposed to public view when a bomb ripped the front off a house. Would there be neatly folded PJs and a tidy row of sailing guides ordered by region and size, or a pile of long overdue washing and dishevelled pile of Multihull magazines? Perhaps the chain plates would be weakened by the impact enough for the rig to collapse into the car park surprising the retired couple enjoying their cheese and pickle sandwiches and flask of tea.

More cleats needed and quick. We set about finding additional under utilised cleats around the dock and moving them onto our dock. The ever present risk of being maimed by a low flying cleat made it stressful work.

We slowly added more and more mooring lines (thank goodness we bought more when we wintered in Scotland) and ran them through the cleats on our side, then across the dock over to the further side cleats for extra extra holding.

I was about to remove more cleats when an off duty harbour master came to suggest we didn’t cross the dock with our lines creating a tripping hazard. I decided not to shout at him immediately and instead explained that we were happy to remove the offending lines if he was happy to take responsibility for us turning the other boats into a splintering mess of crushed fiberglass. He asked why we were the only boat breaking cleats. Newtons second law was a long faded memory from high school physics, so I summarised that little wee boats equal little wee force on the cleats, big f**k off cruising boat equals big f**k off forces on the cleats. He must have been happy with the answer because he stopped asking questions and phoned the harbour team to bring more cleats.

Meanwhile, we had broken another cleat, and Fi was standing there ropes and a threatening cleat in her hands trying to stop it from scratching up her nicely patched hull wrapping.

About three hours after the surge started the harbour team turned up with extra cleats after the boss man had gone up there and directed. Fi had been up there twice already asking for more cleats, explaining that we were slowing shearing through their current ones. This didn’t seem to register with them, and we can only put it down to Fi being as cool as a cucumber, or the “salty proper sailing dudes” thinking she was overreacting.

We replaced the four broken ones, added numerous more and secured the now fourteen dock lines to multiple cleats each to reduce the loads on a single cleat.

Secure at last? Every dock line we had and the tow rope. Four broken cleats.

Six hours later, the tide had dropped and the cill was doing its work, stopping the massive surge. Dinner, and a sleep.

The next day we took a closer look at the dock and what had failed. The first cleats had sheared off under the snatch loads. A retired Rolls Royce engineer on the dock told us they were cast aluminium with significant cavities that were destined to fail under load. Cheap and nasty were his words.

The dock also used a rail system for the cleats that had allowed us to easily move the cleats from other parts of the dock. In some cases one end of the cleat had ripped out of the dock and then twisted and snapped the other end off. In other cases, as we surged backwards and forwards, the cleats simply moved on the rails, backwards and forwards in time with us. Not particularly secure.

Remains of a cleat. The left end ripped out of the slot and then the cleat twisted and tore the other end off. Looks like a good solid system for row boats.

Compare these to more solid cleats that we see on most docks in this region.

Sometimes it seems like cruising is a journey of dispelling assumptions (‘people offering to take lines on the dock know how to tie off a line’, ‘mooring buoys are safe to moor on’). We used to assume cleats were strong enough to tie on to. Not now. We have officially become ‘cleatist’.

Before the next blow is due, we decided to grab another weather window for our next destination.

Rolling over the Channel Islands

November 3, 2024 / fiandadrian

Last time we left Salcombe extraordinarily early in the morning and headed south.

It was Fi’s seventh channel crossing so we had some idea what to expect. This time it would be light winds to start and stronger winds and squalls with waves against tide later… something to look forward to. Plus it is the busiest shipping channel in the world, so Fi warmed up her “radio voice” in preparation for calling up the ships to ensure they were aware of our presence.

The tankers and cargo ships all exited the traffic separation area and took turns trying to hit us.

If you look in the right direction you can pretend they aren’t there.

The ride into Guernsey got quite squally and bumpy as predicted. We were surprised by the number of tuna in the channel, several times seeing groups of them jumping out of the water and chasing fish.

We had just put the sails down and were motoring towards port when this lined us up for some 30 knot winds and hail. Welcome to Guernsey! It had been 2 knots of wind prior to this hitting us.

Hmm…stay-inside weather

Settled weather encouraged us to head to the nearby island of Sark. This was a momentous occasion as it completed our circumnavigation of… somewhere. We had last been to Sark after picking up the boat although we weren’t allowed ashore as it was covid times.

The anchorage at Sark. Less fog than last time we were here.

We go ashore on Sark. Its not the flattest island

Some harbours even had tunnels to access them through the steep cliffs

How long can one handle a rolling house. 2 days, 3 days? Sark was such an interesting place to visit. There are no cars, historic places, natural beauty, and a rolly anchorage. So after a couple of nights, we realised that the boat was feeling flatter than the land, so we’d better leave for a less rolly anchorage.

Bye bye Sark. We decide to move to the south coast of Guernsey.

All the anchorages here have good sunsets

Around to the south side of Guernsey, we find a beautiful anchorage with a white sand beach. Oh, but its just as rolly. Fortunately, as the tide drops, the beach becomes a vast expanse of still, hard, flat – did I mention still – land. We enjoyed a few days on the beach as a respite to the rolly boat.

We find our own beach. At least at low tide. It completely disappears at high tide, sometimes even before the BBQ has finished cooking!

Big ears is a little hard of hearing these days, so doesn’t get off lead time as much as he used to. He was very happy to have multiple days off lead on his own beach.

We’d read that during World War 2, Guernsey was occupied by the Nazis, which neither of us actually knew. Close by to this anchorage was the “Occupation Museum” detailing what life was like during this time, so for a nice day off the rolly boat we headed up there for a good walk, and a look at all the artefacts found on the island after the occupation ended. The allies landed in St Peter Port where we would later moor Away.

Completely sick of the rolling, we elected to motor around the corner and back to bustling St Peter Port for some more touring of historic sites.

Returning to St Peter Port we find some old guns on a hill overlooking the port. This is the Clarence Battery built in 1779. Originally all the gun emplacements were set to point at France, but when the Nazi’s were occupying they built on top and extended it to have guns also pointing north, towards any raiding parties from England.

And others inside the hill. An second world war fuel bunker was now a museum of military paraphernalia. There was a lot left behind when the Germans left at the end of the war.

We learnt about the German occupation of the Channel Islands during WW2 at the several museums housing war artifacts. The Germans heavily fortified the islands. Rather than retake them by force, the allies negotiated their surrender at the end of the war, almost a year after the D day landings a few miles away. Many relics remained on the islands and have found their way into the museums.

Next time we destroy the dock in St Peters Port and explain Newtonian physics to a nice yet cranky man in a mild gale.

Battleships to Salcombe, via the pub

October 28, 2024 / fiandadrian

Last time we had been engine testing and exploring some of the Cornish coast. The time had come to use the remainder of the season to head south to France. First we wanted to visit the Channel Islands. We had ‘visited’ Sark, one of the Channel Islands, during Covid, but had not been able to go ashore or visit any of the other islands.

Tides are everything in this area and we could only leave Penryn around high tide (given that Away sits in the mud here until the high water comes in) which wasn’t the best time to head along the coast as the current would be pushing against us. Therefore, it seemed like an ideal opportunity to visit the often recommended Pandora Inn for dinner before catching the tide along the coast the next morning.

Bernie was so popular at the pub, while Adrian was ordering at the bar, a fellow asked Fi if he could breed with him. After a pause, Fi realised he was wanting puppies with his own springer spaniel, who incidentally was a boy. So after Fi explained that despite his feminine looks, he’s a boy as well, but has had the chop chop, we all had a laugh about spaniel antics, and he was on his way, perhaps to harass other pretty springer owners.

The next day, sailing along the coast, we passed Plymouth which has a big naval presence and a live firing range just offshore. A German warship announced it was about to start firing as we passed but we didn’t see any explosions.

Lots of big grey boats in this area using their serious voices on the radio. This is the HMS St Albans.

It had been suggested that ‘If you want to visit Plymouth, go the the River Yealm and take a taxi’. Indeed the Yealm was another delightfully protected river along this stretch of coast. Strong tidal currents and range meant mooring buoys and mid stream pontoons are the normal fare. There was even a sand bar across the river entrance to remind us of home. The channel is so hidden in the plethora of moored boats, we were motoring slowly along following the “water” behind a row boat who was looking quizzically at us as we edged closer and closer to the shallows. Realising, Fi pointed out the port marker, and a quick turn, and a laugh and head shake from the rower, Away was back on the correct track. I guess they see that a lot here.

Away tied up to the visitors pontoon. We missed the note about which way to point.

We take the dinghy over to the harbour office pontoon, for our little wander through town and to give Bernie a much needed walk. Before we knew it we were at the first pub the “Dolphin Inn” eating yet another pub meal with a pint.

Not content that we had properly “earned” our pub meal and pint, we walked the long way around, to yet another pub, called “The Swan Inn” where we felt perhaps we could earn another pint.

Hmm, we walked across there only ten minutes ago.

And then finally, we felt we better earn that pint and walk to the third pub the “Ship Inn” for the final pint of the day before we then earned that pint, walking the long way back around because by this time the tide had come in and we were cut off – from walking. Not beer.

They even put cocktail umbrellas in our pints at this pub…

Bernie found a woodland area that was looked after by locals and tried to make us chase squirrels. We wandered through the streets. Many of the cottages had been replaced with modern glass boxes that would look at home in Sydney’s harbour suburbs. Like many of the Cornish seaside villages we’d visited, so many properties are now holidays homes or holiday lets. It seemed like every second property had a key box outside.

Feeling a little more confident as to where the channel is in the River Yealm, and also about how the tide flows, we left at a reasonable time in the morning after a couple of days enjoying the serenity. The Yealm is so packed with moored boats, and the tide runs so fast, they have some tips and tricks in their cruising guide as to how to avoid collisions.

Next stop along the coast was Salcombe. From Salcombe it would be a doable day hop across the channel to the Channel Islands.

We sailed the 4 or so hours over to Salcombe, and came through the tight channel that denotes the “deep” water to the west of yet another giant sandbar that crosses the harbour entrance, and were promptly met with the harbour master who just said “how can we help you?” – whilst this greeting was not what we expected, we simply said we needed water and a mooring place, and were helpfully guided to both.

Pina Colada in the sun in Salcombe. Almost like we had made it to the Mediterranean after all

Houses in Salcombe are coloured his/hers for simplicity.

Salcombe is a very pretty place, and after a few days, which included taking the bus to the vets for Bernie’s annual shots, we were looking at a good weather window to make the channel crossing.

We all got some R & R before the big crossing

We were up well before sunrise to make sure we used all the daylight for the trip across the Channel.

Next time we finally get to visit the Channel Islands!

A better kind of normal

September 15, 2024 / fiandadrian

If you managed to read to the end of the previous blog, you would have noted that the kind Volvo people told us not to start our engine, and that they would come and tow us from the Helford River where we were anchored just south from Falmouth. Something was dreadfully wrong with our engine again.

We spent another couple of days on anchor in Helford, enjoying the area, waiting for our lift.

On the Monday (22nd July) they came, and we tried out our still in original packaging tow line, lifted anchor and were towed from Helford up to Penryn, which is up the river from Falmouth. It was a strange feeling. Obviously to all observing, we were being towed, to be honest it was a little embarrassing, but I guess it happens.

The fellows from FYB Marine here to help us.

And here in our berth. This is low tide, we came in at high tide when there was actual water.

Towed up to Penryn, we settled into our berth which I found out later is the “very broken boat” berth. We discussed the ins and outs of what would happen, and agreed that getting a whole new engine was the best way to go. We had to get a new gearbox anyway as Volvo had recalled ours, and clearly our engine was pretty upset given the oil level was now about 20cm above max and looking like a lovely mixture of coolant, oil and seawater – and we hadn’t even switched it on. For peace of mind, new engine.

Begin the cardboarding of the interal structures in Away for protection, discussing how to get the old one out, ordering of new lifts and things for the yard, discussions about aluminium boats and insulating electricity, discussions with Garcia, and eventually, the fateful day where we leave the yard and have some time in a hotel in town. Feeling confident, its best we leave the experts to do what they do. I know I would be bothering them asking a million questions, so I’m happy to let them get on with it.

We took a trip one day down to Porthleven which was beautiful.

We spot our shining new engine on the test bed.

And go for a walk with Falmouth uncovered for an evening of ghost stories.

From the local pub we can see Away in the mud.

We decided to try our hand at some art while we waited for the new engine to be installed.

A few days later, we are invited back to Away, happily humming with the sound of her new Volvo Penta D275. Complete with an extra temperature sensor.

Off we go to commission the new engine which involves monitoring speed and revs, getting it up to the highest revs and checking temperatures and for leaks etc.

Going back to our berth from trying out the engine all day was a gorgeous and relaxing afternoon.

All seems well. We do some more sea trials and the optimism starts to creep in again. We are all feeling a lot more comfortable, the engine sounds brilliant and the new gearbox is a lot quieter.

So we went sailing on someone elses boat… Actually we were invited to go out racing for Falmouth Week in the Champagne Race. We came third in that, and our friends came second overall for the week. It was a fun day in the sun!

Here we are with the captain. We were being serious racers I promise.

The previous 2 days racing for the team had been a bit sporty, but happily when we went, it was perfect.

As our confidence grows, we take a trip over to Fowey in Away (pronounced “Foy“) and enjoy the local sights and sounds.

Pretty place, and some great summer weather!

And as I type this, we are finalising the collection of various packages, planning a good clean of Away, and looking at weather windows to finally get on and do what we do.

We want to find out what happened to the old engine. No one seems to know. Not the 5 engineers we have spoken to, not Volvo, not us. There are many theories being banded about, but none of them quite fit. What we do know is we are very happy with this better kind of normal we find ourselves in. The engine does sound overall better.

From Guinnessland to Cream Teas

July 30, 2024 / fiandadrian

We arrived in Guninessland and did some touring around Belfast. We were waiting for a half decent weather window to head south, but apparently this time of year everyone heads north, according to the wind anyway. After Glenarm we sailed south to Bangor, which is an excellent and safe marina to visit Belfast in Northern Ireland. It was all big ships, big cities and black cabs.

Bernie checking out the dry dock in the middle of Belfast. We need antifoul soon right mum?

Finding cute laneways and historic pubs in Belfast was fun.

And what is not to love about live Irish music?

We have our own Titanic “King of the World” moment at the Titanic museum.

And it was so cool to think that the Titanic was launched from just here. Amazing.

While we were waiting for the wind to be our friend, we decided to hire a car and head to Derry where we would have liked to have sailed to, but… sailing timings don’t always work.

We saw the murals accidentally. I’d wanted to go to the cemetery to see if I could find relatives, and to walk back to town, we walked back right through the middle of Bogside which is where a lot of the “Troubles” occurred.

The cemetery where I looked for McCarron’s (my birth name). I think I found some relations but only my Aunty Jean will know for sure.

We went on a walking tour of Derry and now I’m keen to watch the rest of Derry Girls for sure. What a beautiful place full of history. I’d go back.

We tried to see the Giant’s Causeway after we left Derry, but it was absolutely packed with tourists, so we saw this castle instead. Bernie was intrigued.

Finally, we get the weather to head on down to Dun Laoghaire (pronounced Dun Leery) which is right near Dublin and where we would pick up our guest Ryan, Adrian’s son!

The lifeboat had a shout to help someone with a lobster pot wrapped around their prop.

The sun is shining and we are sailing along.

The sleepiest of sailors. Someone better tell him to turn his blanket over to the plain blue side as we are heading out of the UK now. Arriving near Dublin very soon!

We had to wait outside in the harbour for a while to let 2 big ships cross our path before getting in. This is Dublin from the bay.

And then, Ryan arrives! No jet lag here, nope!

So, again the weather decided to favour those heading north, but no matter as it meant we could explore the Guinness Factory, Temple Bar, general Dubliness etc.

We visit the Guinness Factory and I guess I look like a nice person who should take a photo of a million German football fans.

Guinness is mostly water I learned. Its also DELICIOUS.

And I made the boys come out to see Riverdance. I cried almost the entire time. It was so fantastic – I used to do a little Irish Dancing and I just love it.

Whilst the winds were more favourable for heading north, we did have some nice weather and decided to take Ryan out for a test sail. He did an excellent job helming upwind for a while, getting his sea legs.

Test sail check! Look at that confidence.

Adrian and Ryan take a trip north to show Ryan a bit of Northern Ireland.

The Dark Hedges from Game of Thrones fame.

And Adrian finally gets to see the Giant’s Causeway!

The perfect day for it. I stayed at home as I have been there before, and I could just do… at home things.

The next day, the winds decided to turn, and we could head south, stopping overnight in Arklow, then on to Kilmore Quay for a few days.

A very early start was required to get the right tides from Arklow so I think we were there for like 10 hours.

But alas, whilst we got the tides, the winds died to less than predicted so we had to motor for a little while.

We found great coffee in Kilmore Quay right near the marina.

And a most excellent beach. Although I felt compelled to pick up the ridiculous amount of rubbish (to the left of me). Also, Bernie forgot who his owner was and ran off to another lady so there was a lot of running and shouting at the deaf spaniel. Quite an exciting beach in the end.

After all this beautiful weather and beach walking, we decided England was calling and we should push off and do a decent passage down to the Scilly Isles. I had been to the islands previously on the ferry, and I had also tacked up and down near them when I did the Fastnet last year, but had never sailed here so it was a real treat to get into the islands and anchor up. Not so much of a treat tacking for about 10 hours though. We called it, and put the big metal sail on to get in before Adrian and I passed out.

A very very bumpy start to a 24 hour passage.

But we’re all good and sailing along nicely.

We lost the wind a bit, and it shifted around, so after a lot of tacking, our morning arrival turned into an afternoon arrival. But here we are, safe and sound in the Scilly Islands.

A few days on the Scillys were brilliant and felt like we were almost on a tropical holiday, except that we enjoyed cream teas.

Looking pretty in the anchorage on St Martins Island.

Some confusion about brunch pints. They come in half pints, even though you say pint.

The weather was due to come in, and whilst we would have been fine at the Scilly’s, our passenger was due to get back to France to fly back home so we chose a fabulous day to sail across from the Scilly’s to Falmouth in Cornwall.

Looks almost tropical! Good bye Scilly’s for now!

Happy to be sailing in the sunshine. Last year this would have been snow.

Tied up on the “Super Yacht” dock in Falmouth. Awwww yeah. Ok, we moved the next day.

Burgers and beers after a passage are a good tonic.

It was here, we decided that whilst we are seasoned sailors, expecting someone who has never sailed before to do ocean passages with us was unreasonable, and perhaps some land based activities were in order. So off we went to London, and on to Paris.

And a big old bus randomly at the back of a pub that used to be the Bank of England. What a town, I love London so much.

And a big pyramid, with some of the worlds biggest artists.

Its in Paris where we wave goodbye to Ryan as he heads home to Australia. Thanks Ryan for coming!

Back on Away in Falmouth, again the weather decided we shouldn’t leave the south of England unless we wanted to motor everywhere, so we explored Falmouth, until the fateful day, we realised we could do the quick little 5 mile sail into the Helford River, just south from town. Its a beautiful place.

But… The engine was hard to start.

It started and we sailed, and enjoyed a few beautiful days in the Helford. What an absolute gem of a place.

I must admit, all the photos in this blog are sunny. I think we just took photos when it was sunny.

Sunny. This was the path down to the ferry. We just wandered down to look, but we had the dinghy.

CANNOT have enough thatched cottages. Ok, I may have heard Kylie Minogue used to come here, or had a house here. And also various famous rockers from the 70s have houses here, but I don’t know who they are and Adrian is asleep now as I write this, so you’ll just have to google.

Anchored up here safely in the Helford river. 5 miles from Falmouth.

Our plan was to head to Fowey (pronounced Foy) next. Engine checks done, oil looks funny and for some reason is really really high – way above max. Darn it… We should call the Volvo people in Falmouth. Call made. Advice, “yeeeeeaaaah don’t start that engine, we’ll come and get you”. Stay tuned.

Checked Out

July 12, 2024 / fiandadrian

Last time we were expecting good news on the pesky engine issue. Unfortunately, starting issues turned into catastrophic engine failure, days turned into weeks, and Away’s clean hull turned into a prolific undersea garden.

I’m not the only one that needs a beard trim

taking regular trips on the ferry to Oban for critical supplies

optimistically reprogramming the boat to heat water using the sun

making excursions to London and Glasgow to apply for visas

even the deer learned that there was no need to run when Bernie trotted by

But as the colour returned to Scotland there was a glimmer of hope

The correct gaskets had been worked out, the broken fuel lines replaced and the engine burst into life.

It had been an education (‘Wow, look at that redesigned exhaust elbow that allows free movement of the turbo waste gate!’) both in engine mechanics and engine mechanics

For our first trip we were joined by local and gin connoisseur Chelsea who we had met at the tastings she runs in the local area

With only a small diesel leak outstanding we decided it was finally time to say goodbye to our winter family

Early one morning Away and her luscious marine garden drifted off the dock and headed south for new adventures.

We aimed the bow at Lock Tarbert on Jura and were soon reactivating our sailing muscles pushing into a perky swell and a solid sou’wester. A quick poll was taken and it was concluded a night at in a local bay and an adventurously early start to catch the next tide was in order, rather than an extended and slightly damp bash along the Jura coast.

Away loving the conditions. Crew, not so much.

Next mornings rainbow reminded us we were still in Scotland

The next day it was a short back track to catch the impressive tide down the sheltered east side of Jura. The 5 knot tidal flow validated the early start! We passed the notorious Gulf of Corryvrecken well known for its tidal whirlpools. We had momentarily considered a short cut through the Corryvrecken but the overfalls and surging cross current confirmed our decision. Soon we were travelling as fast sideways as forwards! The local lifeboat roared up and down in what looked like a search pattern. Perhaps a crew member had lost their hat overboard. The tidal assistance declined and we tacked into Port Ellen between some squalls. The marina is on the compact side and a wee cross wind added to the fun. Not satisfied with the challenge we flattened the bow thruster battery on our reconnaissance pass and we were well satisfied (relieved) to reach the dock on our first attempt.

Coincidentally Port Ellen is walking distance from three of the finest Scottish distilleries and not far from several others, the perfect final stop in Scotland. We made a considered decision to leave the bikes at home and head out on foot towards our first stop: Laphroaig.

Laphroaig has been a long time favourite and we were taking this visit seriously

The ‘old and rare’ sampling flight did not disappoint

Curiously, Fi was starting to leave yellow footprints behind and the day had only just begun

Another 30 minutes walk brought us to the next stop, the smoother and more jovial Lagavulin.

Off to our final destination, and even the cows were startled by our ponderous walking style

At first we couldn’t find the entrance despite a large black arrow pointing at it. But persistence paid off and we enjoyed our final tasting even more after discovering that a dog friendly bus could whisk us home.

The next passage involved one of those squeezy bits between the Mull of Kintyre and the Guinessland coast. Once a land bridge it now squeezes the waters rushing out of the Irish sea amplifying the waves and inspiring song lyrics. With tide and wind in the same direction our passage started well, but the afternoon winds continued to build to ‘a bit brisk for this early in season’ level and we decided to make an early landfall at Glenarm and celebrate our first new country of the year.

Next time we continue our travels through Guinessland, search for long lost relatives, and meet a distinctly live one.

Another island break

May 23, 2024 / fiandadrian

Away doesn’t feel like moving right now due to her heart being taken apart, so we decided that given we would be stuck on the dock for a couple of weeks, why not go and visit another Scottish island that we don’t believe we would have sailed to (due to lack of anchorages).

A nap was needed after all the engine stress.

Off we popped one day into town, packed up with food and a dog and our bikes, and jumped on the CalMac ferry for the 2.5 hour trip over to beautiful Colonsay.

Arriving just on dusk, we rode our bikes up to the little cottage we would call home for a few nights.

Dusky clouds over the island of Jura as we arrived at our little cottage hideaway.

And just like that, we woke up the next day to blinding sunshine! Its like Colonsay knew we needed a little vitamin D and some lovely weather as a tonic to the engine shenanigans.

View from the kitchen window of the CalMac Colonsay ferry coming in to port. We took this across the day before. Is this sunshine even real?

Colonsay is about 60kms south west of Kerrera, and is home to about 100-150 people. Its one of the most remote places in Scotland. They don’t allow camper vehicles here, and so they maintain the number of tourists to a manageable level.

Bernie as he gets older gets confused when we’re not in the wobbly house.

On the island there is a pub, a small shop, a little restaurant, 2 distilleries, a book shop and a couple of gift shops. Also a fish smokery, airstrip and loads of old things.

Our first day was getting our bearings. We rode our bikes into town and had a look around. Bernie ran along well beside us and wore himself out a little. That afternoon we had booked a distillery tour at the Wild Thyme distillery which was about a 30 minute bike ride away on the other side of the island to our cottage. Its probably the nicest gin I had ever tasted. We tried their London gin, their Old Tom, their Navy strength and a few other drinks, and came home with a couple of bottles. The distillery is run by a couple who started it simply because they like gin, and had moved to the island and were looking for something worthwhile to create. Its delicious.

We also took Bernie for a little walk up in the hills.

There are wild goats on the island which are just HUGE. Apparently they are from a Spanish war ship that sank here ages ago. They just run around wild, but seriously I would not want to run across those horns on a walk in the hills.

Bike riding around to the distillery was a wonderful way to get our bearings, and see this beautiful island.

Colonsay has a neighboring island just to the south, which at low tide, is no longer an island. Its connected by these huge sand flats a couple of hours around low tide, so its walkable over there. The connected island is called Oronsay, and so on our second day of exploring, we noted we had the perfect time of tide to go for another good bike ride and then a 5 mile walk around Oronsay. Bernie ran and ran and ran with us, then walked with us over to Oronsay across the flats.

Tide looks low. Here we go for a possibly wet walk.

It was actually fine, as long as you had good boots. A few people were taking off their shoes to get across. Way to cold for that!

Once across, it was nice to visit the Priory. Built in 563AD by St Oran. It also has a farm house attached. The people who live on Oronsay are really governed by the tides, as they can only get across to Colonsay and on to the mainland at low tide, then by taking the 2.5 hour ferry to Oban. This is such a remote place.

The irises are coming out. The view up to the Priory.

First time wearing a tshirt in what feels like years! Walking and bike riding really keeps us warm. Too warm.

The Priory has been added on to a lot since 563AD.

We saw graves here as recent as the early 1900s.

We saw there was a pretty white beach nearby too, and we still had time before the tide would cut us off from Colonsay, so we headed down there for a beach walk. The sand is so white, and alas it wasn’t a swimming day (note the hiking boots and puffy jackets). We couldn’t believe our luck with both the weather, and the timing of the tides.

Ok, so I still have my puffy jacket on. Its still cold for me.

Glorious beach. If only it were 20 degrees warmer.

With Bernie going pretty deaf these days, he’s rarely allowed off lead, much to his dismay.

We timed everything perfectly so that we could still walk back across the sandflats before the tide came in too far.

As we walked back, we discovered how the residents on Oronsay get their post. The postman delivers but only at low tide. I guess we still had plenty of time, as he was going across to Oronsay now, and would have to deliver post and get back again before he gets bogged and then washed away.

Riding back, Bernie was getting pretty tired, but still found energy reserves to sprint after a rabbit while he was attached to me on my bike. That was fun, and made for a quick trip.

All the little baby lambs are everywhere and they are so cute.

The following day was our day to leave, but the ferry doesn’t go until the evening, so we decided that Bernie wasn’t worn out enough, so back across the island, but this time instead of to the distillery, we went north to Kiloran beach. We explored for a while, Bernie running and running, before he decided he should go swimming in the Atlantic. With his new haircut, the water gets onto his skin pretty quickly without the benefit of water repelling fluff, and so once he was done swimming and running, he realised he was freezing. He desperately needed to sleep an after some convincing, he realised snuggling up to me, despite the salt water drenching his skin, was probably the warmest place he’d get. He promptly fell asleep shivering, so my jacket went on top to get him warmed up. He’s definitely getting older these days.

We walked over the hill and were presented with this view of the beach! Perfect spot for a picnic, and not too crowded.

He walked straight into this rockpool, then quickly out again when he noted the temperature.

He still got in the water looking for fish though. This water is coming from the Atlantic and the wind was reasonable this day. Bernie began to shake when he was too tired to run around any more.

Again, wish it was 30 degrees because I’d be swimming, but this was so absolutely beautiful.

But while he was running around he was the happiest dog in the world.

After Bernie’s nap, we rode back to the ferry, and were on our way back to Kerrera. Colonsay was definitely the tonic we needed after a bit of stress with Away being sick. It was great to see such a beautiful island and in such spectacular weather.

Spectacular sunset over Mull as we pull in to Oban on the CalMac ferry.

Hopefully next time we will have good news to report about us kicking off sailing again. As I write it is sunny here on Kerrera, 21 degrees today and I am in a tshirt. The wind is perfect for sailing, sun is shining, and we would love to leave Hotel Kerrera, despite the friendships we’ve made and how beautiful this place is. The show must go on and we must continue to be Away.

Next time we hope to have good news about the engine. Hope.

Checking Out of the Hotel Kerrera

May 5, 2024 / fiandadrian

Away was lifted out of the water for an annual health check. The boat lift here drives into the water and picks up your boat. It helps to have a high tide and no long keel to get in the way.

This year we dropped the centerboard out and replaced the fittings.

After we serviced the engine we headed out for a quick shakedown cruise. There are so many beautiful anchorages only a couple of hours sail from the marina.

On the first morning we awoke to still conditions and the island of Mull reflected in the loch.

The shakedown cruise uncovered a number of boat issues that needed to be addressed. The engine not starting was top of the list. We eventually managed to start it and headed back to the marina to work out what the issue was.

We could tell summer was on the way as the overnight snow didn’t reach sea level.

We quickly worked out that there was still a little air left in the fuel system, so it was time to head out for another test.

Bernie was happy to be leaving the marina again and took up his lookout position on deck.

Our first stop was a Loch Aline that we had passed on the way from Tobermory last year. The Ardtornish Estate at the end of the loch looked like a lovely place to stay, for those who don’t bring their home with them. They even had a farm shop and we were able to replenish our deer supplies before leaving.

The anchorages are not too crowded at this time of year.

Next stop was the Boathouse Restaurant in Loch Choire. We had wanted to visit over winter but they had been closed or the weather had not worked out. This time we had a delightful meal of local produce sitting by the window looking out to Away.

Dinner arriving at the restaurant just ahead of us.

What a lovely view from our table at the Boatshed restaurant.

Leaving Lock Choire next day with some Scottish atmosphere blowing in

The following day we stayed mostly indoors as Away sailed back to Kerrera in a following breeze and some light rain and sleet.

Its well into 2024 and we have ticked off many boat jobs and are fully engaged in our annual visa battle. The days are getting longer, the winter gales have turned into spring gales and the temperatures soar over 10 degrees from time to time. Its time to make a plan for 2024.

The Plan for 2024

This years plan is to find warmth. After two years barely seeing temperatures over 20 degrees, we have decided its time to visit somewhere warmer. We overheard someone in the bar saying that it gets warmer if you go south. So we are looking for favorable winds to blow us south to warmer lands…

May Update:

Its early May and we are still at Kerrera Marina, or Hotel Kerrera as its now known. We were warned that you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. And so it seems as we have met many people who came for a visit and are here years later. Each time a boat tries to leave it tangles its prop on a mooring line, has an engine failure, or can’t find crucial rigging that was on the boat last season.

We were ready to leave and say goodbye to Gill and Tim who run the marina and have our farewell pint in the Waypoint bar, but decided to get a last minute engine check as it was still surging on idle. The pink champagne was on ice and we remembered the day so long ago when we arrived here.

On a dark rainy Friday
Freezing wind in our hair
Warm smell of fresh coffees
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance
We saw a shimmering light
Sails grew heavy and our wind grew light
We had to stop for the night

There Gill stood in the doorway
We heard the last drinks bell
And we were thinking to ourselves
“This could be heaven or this could be hell”
Then she lit up the Waypoint
She showed us the way
There were voices down the corridor
Thought we heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel Kerrera
Such a friendly place (such a friendly place), such a friendly face
There’s plenty of room at the Hotel Kerrera
Any time of year (any time of year), oh, you can find it here

Her mind is marina twisted
She got the fifty ton lift, uh
She got a lot of pretty-pretty boys
Who she calls friends
How they dance in the boatyard
Sweet winter sweat
Some dance to remember
Some dance to forget

So we called up the captain
Please bring us some oil, Tim said
“We haven’t had Volvo oil here since 1969”
And still those voices are calling from far away
Wake you up in the middle of a gale
Just to hear them say

Welcome to the Hotel Kerrera
Such a friendly place (such a friendly place), such a friendly face
We’re living it up at the Hotel Kerrera
Oh, what a nice sun rise (what a nice sun rise), hide your surprise

Burns night on the island
With wee drams on ice, and she said
“We are all just prisoners here of our own device”
And in our engine chamber
They gathered for the fix
Stab it with their steely tools
But they just can’t mend the beast

Last thing we remember
We were running for the door
Had to find the passage plan to the place we were before
“Relax”, said the ferry man
“We are programmed to believe”
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave

Next time we butcher the lyrics to another seventies classic and avoid going completely mad by taking a break from island and boat life: we take a trip on a different boat to different island.

Living on a Scottish Island

May 2, 2024 / fiandadrian

Away has spent the winter at Kerrera Marina in Scotland. Kerrera is small island a 10 minute ferry ride from Oban, one of the larger towns on the west coast of Scotland.

As the days grow shorter and colder the population disappear indoors. We enjoy settling in as local’s on the island, joining yoga class, shopping in the farm shop and maintaining fitness in the rain and gales. And keeping the dog entertained with rabbits, deer, cows and sheep.

At New Years we join a traditional dance called a Ceilidh. No dancing experience or skill required, just people of all ages and backgrounds keen to have some fun. We danced until midnight and watched the fireworks from Away.

New Year was celebrated by circumnavigating Kerrera Island

We got used to seeing the grey areas of intense winds on the forecast chart as the winter storms passed by. We’ve only sustained a couple of scratches, and one broken fender and a few ripped fender covers during the multitude of named storms this winter season.

The forecast would warn us before the next wee blow

Cooking in Away during a wee blow. Good practice for being at sea.

This boat broke its mooring in a blow and amazingly missed other moored boats and came to rest on a nearby beach. It was eventually floated off on a high tide with the help of some air bags.

Later in January, the Scottish poet Robert Burns is celebrated with an evening of poetry, haggis and a wee dram or two.

On Burns night a man in a kilt with a dagger recited poetry before slashing the haggis.

Soon Fi was off to Australia and our friend Nick came up for a few days. We drove up to Glencoe in some appropriate highland weather.

The marina managers also run a farm on the island and there were no shortage of volunteers to help out when one of the calves needed hand feeding four times a day.

This little guy was being hand reared and we got to feed him his formula.

A friend at the marina invited us out for his first sail on his boat. We started in light winds and sunshine, which can only mean one thing in Scotland…