Ballast away the blues
A tailor-made trip sailing around the Clyde coast is invigorating come rain or shine, finds Thomas Hawkins
FIRST, a confession: the last time I was sailing on the Clyde I lost control of the boat and ended up trapped, pinned to the deck with the sail beating manically inches above my head. It happened as two friends and I were attempting to pass an assessment for a certificate in dinghy sailing. Suffice to say, we didn’t make the grade.
That was more than 10 years ago, and although I had not tested my sea-worthiness in the intervening years, I have always felt the pull of the ocean.
Maybe it is in my blood – my greatgrandfather was a Merchant Navy seaman – but, honestly, given that I was born and bred in Belfast, when I arrived in Largs for a yacht cruising weekend the only link with the sea I could think of was my hometown’s association with a certain luxury liner.
That said, suited up with all the necessary safety equipment and waterproof clothing by the sportscotland National Centre Cumbrae staff, I felt confident stepping aboard Santa Vey, one of the centre’s two 37ft yachts, for three days’ relaxed sailing.
The idea of a cruising weekend is to have an enjoyable sail around the Clyde coastline, stopping at the nearby islands for lunch before spending the night on board the yacht in some of the most scenic ports in Scotland.
Every trip is unique, however, and, depending on weather conditions and where the participants want to go, you could head north out of Largs towards the Kyles of Bute and beyond, or south for a sail around Arran.
The plan for our group, which included two experienced sailors working towards Royal Yachting Association ( RYA) certificates and my very inexperienced sailor wife, was devised by our instructor Neil Wilkie, a qualified RYA yachtmaster. We were to sail out on Friday evening for a short hop across to the national centre at Cumbrae, staying there for an early night before heading the next morning for Loch Fyne and Tarbert.
Unfortunately, we hadn’t reckoned on the Scottish weather. We had barely opened the sails before an icy blast of wind and rain battered us, bringing memories of my failure all those years ago rushing back.
However, we were quickly marshalled into action by our instructor, and collectively, with a yanking of the ropes and a tightening of the sails, we sent Santa Vey skidding behind the safety of the Cumbrae breakwater.
One of life’s greatest pleasures is surely the first cup of steaming-hot tea after an albeit brief but blustery sail. It is then, as you warm up and chat with the rest of the team, that you can really appreciate the simplistic joys of sailing: the physicality of working the sails, the concentration needed to take the helm, or even just the enjoyment of sitting back and taking in the spectacular views.
The next morning, after an excellent breakfast supplied by the centre and cooked by our instructor, we set off for Tarbert, unfazed by our battle with the elements the night before.
The skies had cleared a little overnight, and being eternally optimistic that summer must be on its way, I believed we had beaten nature into submission. It didn’t take long, however, for the weather to counter-attack.
You know it’s bad when even your tea has waves in it, and we faced a fierce headwind as we set off for Loch Fyne. Pretty soon it was clear we were not going to make it to the relative calm of the Kyles any time soon, so we decided to beat a retreat and turned towards Loch Bannatyne for lunch.
As we ate, we reassessed our day’s goals and plotted a course instead for Holy Loch to spend the night. That’s the beauty of these weekend sails: you can chop and change your itinerary as you go depending on what you need, whether that is sea miles under your belt or just a more relaxing time.
We were certainly of the latter persuasion and so set out from Loch Bannatyne knowing we would be sailing more with the wind than into it, making for a much smoother sail.
NO sooner had we decided to take the easy route than we were rewarded from on high as the clouds cleared, the wind eased slightly and the sun came out. We really made some headway at this stage, cutting through the waves as our skipper gave us tips on how to get the most out of the boat. For novices like my wife and I, that advice was just what we were looking for, while the experienced members were able to take on more of the skippering duties, helping them build experience.
We docked at Holy Loch marina in the early evening and, after dinner, had time to relax over a glass or two of wine before being rocked to sleep by the soft lapping of the sea against the yacht.
Waking up to a view of crystalclear waters and pristine woodlands, with the stunning Beinn Mhor in the distance, was truly invigorating and made the physical exertions of the journey more than worth it.
Rejuvenated, we let out the sails once more and headed back toward Largs, passing fellow cruisers and a racing regatta as the Clyde coast’s sailing community made the most of the break in the weather.
On the journey home, emboldened by the guidance of the instructor, I took the helm and helped steer us back to dry land, erasing the memory of my past sailing debacle.