UK CRUISING
Readers share their voyages exploring the British coasts
Who would have guessed that any UK yachtsman managed to sail more miles in 2020 – a year hampered by lockdown and pandemic restrictions – than in 2019?
It did help that the second year of my challenge, in which I am attempting to visit every harbour master in Great Britain, did include some long-distance passages: Oban to Skye via Mull; the length of the Outer Hebrides including an overnight anchorage at St Kilda; a passage to Orkney via a bouncy Cape Wrath; on to Shetland via Fair Isle and right over the north of Great Britain past the wonderfully named Muckle Flugga lighthouse. From Wick it was south to Lossiemouth and finally a passage back through the Caledonian Canal to Ardfern.
As we left Loch Craignish in mid July, with my 34ft Nauticat 331 Good Dog freshly serviced by Ardfern Yacht Centre, much of the country was still in lockdown. I had no idea I would end up sailing more than 2,000 miles and meeting 32 new harbour masters in just three months.
A brilliant Cruising Association talk on western Scotland with tales of 16-knot tidal races, fierce downdrafts and the utter remoteness of northern Scotland made me very cautious, and I did my daily passage planning religiously. One part of the talk that helped me enormously was Boyd Holmes describing the benefits of ‘riding the tides’. The other gem I learnt about was Antares charts. No one in their right mind cruises western Scotland without Bob Bradfield’s ridiculously cheap set of 500 digital chartlets downloaded onto their tablet. The confidence these super-accurate charts give a skipper cannot be overemphasised.
A FRIENDLY WELCOME
Our first few harbour masters at Oban, Tobermory, Mallaig, Canna and Portree were pleased to see us, maybe because we were often one of the first yachts to test out their COVID-19 facilities. We also became more adventurous in our overnight anchorages; Loch Scavaig, Ensay in the sound of Harris, Handa Island, Fetlar in Shetland, and among the sand bars of Dornoch Firth, where a
strong tide successfully tested our superb Rocna Vulcan 25kg anchor attached to a 60m 8mm chain.
The first hiccup we encountered involved the range safety aircraft calling us on the VHF radio during our auspicious passage to St Kilda: ‘Did we know that a 70-mile exclusion zone was in place, south west of the archipelago?’ No we didn’t. We quickly struck a deal with the friendly guys at Missile Control and agreed to add a dog-leg to our course the next day to avoid any unfortunate incidents. Later that week, sailing north from Lochinver, we hit thick sea fog. Relying on three different GPS navigation aids, including our tablet we named ‘Uncle Bob’ as it held his Antares charts, we slipped into the southern inlet of Handa Island with ‘nae bother’.
Two excitements occurred off Orkney, one was predicted and the other a complete surprise. The surprise was a downdraft off a 300m cliff just north of the Old Man of Hoy. Blasted from nowhere, all ten tons of us were knocked 90º to starboard – I think by our mizzen – and for a few seconds we were sailing rapidly towards the cliff face before 75 horses were swiftly deployed to swing us back north and out of trouble.
The second was predicted but equally dramatic and involved a famous Orkney tidal race known locally as the ‘Burger Roost’. Occurring between Eynhallow and ‘Mainland’ – the largest island of Orkney – for a short distance ferocious standing waves form where the ebb meets the
Atlantic swell. The steep waves and strong current had us motoring at five knots through the water but making only one knot over the ground. Luckily the Nauticat’s hull is similar to a lifeboat’s so we felt, and were, 100% safe.
HIDDEN GEMS
The very north-east coast of Scotland held the biggest surprise of the whole journey. Everyone knows how stunning the west coast is, but no one had told us how equally beautiful the east coast is – my theory is because so few people sail there.
My 100th harbour master was Malcolm Bremner in Wick, a harbour I highly recommend. Not only is it safe, but it has friendly fishermen, one of whom, when following us into the harbour after dark, called up on the VHF and offered his help to find our berth. The harbour and the old town is a stunning example of the efforts of my two favourite engineers – Stevenson and Telford.
We were sad to leave Wick, but armed with a new task given to me by Imray of photographing every harbour south of Wick for their new pilot book, we continued our sunny passage south. Here we entered a world of tiny historic herring ports – Whaligoe, Lybster and Helmsdale; theatrical castles – Dunbeath and Dunrobin; and havens of birdlife at pretty Loch Fleet and sandy Dornoch Firth. The wildlife was so different from the west and north coasts, not only flocks of waders, sandpipers and redshanks beginning their migration but we were joined by basking sharks and even an orca in the flat calm of the Moray Firth. As the days shortened and the second lockdown loomed, we sailed through the Caledonian Canal back to our temporary home at Ardfern.
■ £6,680 has been raised for The Seafarers Charity: https://bit.ly/hm_challenge