Kindred Spirit II sailing around the UK farewell tour

  It seems a bit of an anti-climax, but we have completed our planned trip and arrived back at Oban town jetty. It is time for me to leave Kindred Spirit and get the bus back to the real world. I feel as though I am abandoning ship. In a couple of days Mark will be joined by his sailing club friends and will go through the Caledonian Canal and back down the east coast to their base at Blackwater Sailing Club near Maldon. I wish them fair winds and am sure they will have a good time whatever the wind and weather throw at them.                                                                       Leaving Tobermory... It seems to me that cruising is a long game. Mark and I have been on a journey, with the main aim to get round. A French sailor at Tobermory yesterday evening said they would wait until Saturday to come down to Oban, so that the winds would offer a good sail. Well today was difficult, sailing down the Sound of Mull, which is broadly in a south-west direction, when the bris

  We left Inverie at 7am, it was nice to have a lie in after a session in the Old Forge. We had some good wind, but it was mostly just off the nose, so we spent much of the day close hauled and motor sailing. We did get some good sailing first thing in Loch Nevis and last thing as we rounded Ardnamurchan Point. Passing east of the island of Eigg the sea was lumpy and it hampered our progress and was rather frustrating. Mark and I took it in turns to have a sleep down below and that helped to pass the time. Leaving Inverie... Since leaving Whitehills, heading north across the Moray Firth, we have had ten days of varied sailing. The most exciting highlights have included crossing the Pentland Firth, visiting The Orkneys, sailing into Loch Eriboll, rounding Cape Wrath and sailing into Kinlochbervie. But sailing down the fantastic rocky shores of this part of Scotland, with amazing scenic ways in, for example to Loch Torridon, to Ullapool and to Inverie, has been incredible. And in terms o

  Today from Loch Torridon towards Mallaig was mostly boring motor sailing. We are on a journey and have a deadline, a proper sailor would wait for four or five days for the wind to be helpful, but we just tend to go for it. Today that means that we used motor sailing to beat into the wind for about 12 hours, from 4am to 4pm when we arrived at Inverie Bay on the south side of Knoydart peninsula. However, when we turned eastwards at the Skye Bridge we were able to sail in the relentlessly south wind and turned to motor off for a couple of hours as we then sailed across Loch Alsh but unfortunately then had to drop the sails and motored through the narrow Kyle Rhea. It was fun to reach a speed of 9 knots against a wind of 32 knots and with a bit of ‘roost’ (rough water) it all became quite exciting. But we were soon back to motor sailing into a southerly wind and took it in turns to sleep below. Towards the end of the day we did enjoy sailing into Loch Nevis to reach Inverie Bay. We had i

After four nights bobbing on a mooring in Ullapool we got permission to visit the pontoon for water and food shopping, we took all night to get that done so left early on Monday 13th heading southwards. Hsad to use the motor for two hours punching out of the bay but turned south and had great 6 to 7 knot sailing beating into a south westerly osh wind of 18 to 22 knots but with occasional gusts up to 30 knots. We varied the amount of sail from full initially then two reefs then up one then back down again. Ten hours of lively sailing and came screaming into a moody Loch Torridon at full speed even reefed down.  The anchorage at Loch a Crachaich (Kenmore) was sheltered and good holding and things calmed down for a quiet night. It felt very highland so after chicken dinner we finished a half empty bottle of 10 year old Laphroaig. That was mostly Mark I seem to recall. Into our favourite routine of getting up early so I am writing this at 5am as we motor sail back along the Loch hoping for

 First thing in the morning we motored three miles up to the mouth of Loch Eriboll to a less sheltered anchorage to wait for the tide. We had breakfast and then each found various ways to kill four hours or so. We were about fifteen miles from Cape Wrath and waiting for the tides to play out, so that when we arrive at that exposed turning point the flow will be turning in our favour. Meanwhile the wind was building and blowing nearly 20 knots. According to the Pilot (a guidebook for sailors), Cape Wrath is:  '...a confluence of strong tides making it a very dangerous place in bad weather. It is totally exposed to the North and west and is frequently subject to very strong winds which build up a huge and dangerous sea in a very short time. Even in calm weather a large ocean swell is often present.' So it is not surprising that we are waiting with a certain amount of trepidation and even nervousness. It is tempting to go early but with a strong east wind blowing we seem li

Wow! After so much thinking and planning and buying a yacht and upgrading it and sailing (almost) round the UK last year, today was a fantastic day. We motored out of Stromness to catch the tail end of the westerly-going flow, just so that we could escape from the Hoy Sound without a roost (rough water overfall). We motor sailed for a couple of hours in a feeble east south easterly breeze. It was brilliant to sail past The Old Man of Hoy, one of the most famous, exciting and inaccessible rock climbs in Britain. But then the wind picked up and backed to become an east north easterly blowing around 14 knots and gaining so we ran for eight hours at an increasing speed. By the time we came close to our destination of Loch Eriboll we added a bit of tidal flow in our favour and hit 9.1 knots of speed. This is comparable to a fast runner but us sailors get excited whenever the speed goes beyond a fast walk. As we sailed into the wider section of Loch Eriboll, Mark was enjoying himself on th

Sailing out on a gentle southerly breeze past The Old Man of Hoy... heading for Loch Eriboll... 

 Today was really a rest day, although we did have to traverse Scapa Flow from St Mary’s Bay to Stromness, a distance of just 9 miles across sheltered water and today with hardly a breath of wind. At Stromness we did some laundry then wandered along the charming main street and enjoyed fish and chips sitting on a bench overlooking the harbour. It is noticeable that of the yachts in the marina we are the smallest. Even the pontoons here are longer than usual, to more easily accommodate a forty footer. We met a visiting couple of sailors whose boat is called ‘Alembic’ and who are based in Portland. That is Portland in Maine, USA not Portland in the south of England!  So, although we are far from Essex we figured they had just about beaten us in the ‘who has travelled the furthest to reach this marina?’ contest. This is as far north as we will go. Tomorrow morning will set off heading west, aiming to reach an anchorage at Loch Eriboll.

There are, three steps, to heaven. Just listen and you will plainly see. Step one, crossing the Pentland Firth. Step two, sailing from Stromness to Kyle of Tongue. Step three, rounding Cape Wrath and reaching the shelter of Kinlochbervie harbour. And as life travels on, and things do go wrong, just follow steps one to and three. (With apologies to Showaddywaddy).  Today we completed step one. We motored out of Wick harbour at 11am and enjoyed a couple of hours sailing on a brisk north-easterly breeze. As the wind gradually veered to a northerly on our nose we eventually gave up and motor sailed. The aim was to arrive at Duncansby Head at 3.15pm, just when the formidable east-going flow through the Pentland Firth should switch to a strong but more reasonable west-going flow. Duncansby Head is the top right-hand corner, north-west, of the UK mainland. It is just to the east and north of the more well-known John O’ Groats. In the event we arrived a little bit early but more importantly th

Leaving Whitehills and crossing the Moray Firth we enjoyed light winds in the morning but absolute calm in the afternoon.  This fifty-mile journey means that you head almost due north to Wick. However, a large wind farm has to be avoided so that means that we headed slightly west of north, towards Lybster, then turned due north to reach the fishing harbour and marina at Wick. With the slight haze this journey almost took us out of site of land. From the half way point, approaching the southern corner of the wind farm, we looked back towards Whitehills to see just a slim shadow of the coastal hills. Looking north we were yet to see our destination coastline near Wick, but very soon to the west the cliffs of Clyth Ness came into view. When the sea is so benign it is easy as a sailor to feel some resentment because you came here to enjoy active sailing, not sitting on an underpowered motorboat going at walking pace across a flat calm. I try my best to enjoy the moment and the sense of the

We three sit enjoying the evening sun, dangling our feet over the top of Dental Slab, a bold rock climb on the rough gritstone crag forming the western edge of a moor in the Yorkshire Dales just north of Bradford. Someone shares a thought ‘eh up, we were at work today’. Which seems improbable because climbing two fifteen or twenty metres routes on gritstone has made work and other day to day problems disappear and seem distant fading memories. That is due to the visceral immediacy and frankly the risk of a dangerous fall leading to severe injury or even death that gritstone climbing often entails. The close friendship and constant banter also distract us from everyday worries. The gritstone is rough and gives good grip on our ‘sticky rubber’ climbing shoes, which is just as well because it usually does not have so many holds, at least it has holds ‘but not as we know them’. There are vertical and horizontal cracks scarring the steep face of the gritstone cliff but both sets of cracks t

We are enjoying a rest day in Peterhead. The winds look more favourable tomorrow. Our gentle northward progress provides a suitable build up of anticipation for crossing the Pentland Firth and rounding Cape Wrath. Fishermen in Arbroath and Stonehaven, asking where we are heading, have shared their stories of incredible currents and intimidating waves. And they were going round in big steel boats with ten times the horsepower of our little engine. I have started to read the pilot carefully and fuss over the charts. I feel increasingly nervous. The fierce reputation of the Pentland Firth is undermining my confidence. Every now and then you might choose an adventure that is a bit more of a challenge, that is not just a fun weekend but actually might push you towards your limits or beyond. Mo Anthoine, an infamous British climber, referred to this as ‘feeding the rat’ which is defined in his biography of that name by Al Alvarez: ‘every year you need to flush out your system and do a bit of