Saturday dawned, and our marine engineer arrived and immediately dived into the rear of the engine, and diagnosed an over-leaky stuffing box, which he would have to return to fix. His return visit was set for later in the day, around 5 or 6, he told us. We stayed on board, apart from a brief visit ashore to the Fisherman's Mission for a shower and a change of reading matter, and a quick trip into the co-op for supplies, and we watched the deteriorating weather.

There was a very large wooden boat on a visitor's mooring very close to us, and while its owner assured us it would be fine, I wasn't so sure. I should have moved us then on to another mooring, further into the harbour and further away from the large boat. But while the wind was blowing this strongly there seemed to be no chance of the two boats swinging into each other. Saturday at 5 or 6 came and went, so we had supper and concluded that the engineer's visit was not going to happen that day, and turned in for the night. The awful weather was beginning to get us down, and force 9 gales were forecast for Monday, so we booked ourselves into the West Highland Hotel for two nights dinner bed and breakfast, and left the dinghy attached to the lifeboat pontoon.

Our two days in the hotel were indeed a welcome break from the dreadful weather that this month of May is throwing at the UK in general and Scotland in particular. The hotel was the epitome of highland hospitality, and we felt welcome from the word go. We met some interesting people, including some famous names from Hollywood and a splendid lady from Devon who is a champion Town Crier! She even gave us an autographed card as a memento! Monday 23 May was as appalling here as it was elsewhere. Our room looked out over the Sound of Sleat towards Rum and Eigg, not that we could see them for mist and rain, and we watched squall after squall march rapidly across the water and hit the town. From the back of the hotel we could just see Little Else on her mooring in the harbour, holding her own, as the harbour was sheltered to some extent from the force of this south westerly gale. The Calmac ferries were cancelled all day, a very rare occurrence here, even in the depths of winter. Many people in the hotel were stranded because of this.

After two days we emerged on Tuesday and made it back on to the boat. One of the lifeboat crew had taken pity on our dinghy and placed it more safely on an inner space on the pontoon. We rang our engineer, who was full of apologies and promised to arrive in the morning. The wind finally dropped and we had a calm night, at last.

The next morning, Wednesday, we got up and had a look again at how close we were to the large wooden boat. Now that the wind had dropped we were wandering about on our moorings a bit, no doubt subject to tidal eddies in the harbour. As I watched, the stern of this behemoth suddenly turned towards us, ran backwards, and its mizzen boom connected with our forestay! I had the usual onset of Tourette's as I stuck a leg over our guardrail and pushed the other boat's toerail with all my strength. It moved away, easing the sideways pressure on our forestay. I stayed on watch over this for the rest of the time we were there, and it happened again on three more occasions. If we had been going to stay in the harbour overnight again I would have moved the boat to another mooring, but northerly gales were now forecast for Thursday, so we had decided to move round to Inverie, safer in a northerly, so we could also visit the Old Forge pub, one of our favourite eating places while cruising. The engineer duly turned up with some very large spanners and quickly sorted the problem. We decided that the trip to Inverie would be a good test of the system, and got ready to go just as soon as Ju got back with the laundry from the Fisherman's Mission.

In the end we left at 1.45pm, just as the Calmac ferry was leaving for Armadale. We had a wet and windy journey under engine only to the pub mooring at Inverie, which to our dismay had a very rudimentary pickup, just a buoy on a short piece of rope, not long enough to bring aboard. We quickly looped some rope round it and tied it off temporarily, while I went off to fetch our Moorfast boathook and a length of strong rope. I managed to thread it through the top loop on the buoy at the first attempt, and we made ourselves secure. Then we put the dinghy in the water and rowed to the pub later for dinner. It was as we remembered it, full of locals and walkers, boaties and worthies. The food was good too. We made our way back to the boat, noting that a charter yacht had arrived on another mooring, and later a third yacht arrived and its occupants also went to the pub.
Before turning in we put our chain-rope splice on the mooring buoy, as it would not chafe as rope alone might.

It was a quiet night and we both slept reasonably well.

Thursday was another story. The forecast gale certainly arrived, and was as advertised from the north to north-west. Forecasts varied during the day, but the picture is of more and more strong winds over the next while. And it rained, and it rained, and it rained. No point going ashore for a walk to get cold and wet, so we sudoku'd and read books and played a few rounds of Rummikub to pass the time in what is another wasted day riding out yet another gale! Aarghhh!

When the wind goes round to the west we will head back the way we have come, and find a nice mooring as far as possible from a certain large wooden boat!

Friday morning dawned calm, and dry!!!!!! We got up at 7 and by 7.30 we were heading for Mallaig again. On the way we played around with the main and the three reefs, marking the reefing lines and main halyard for the fixing points. The in-boom reefing system is relatively new to us on Little Else, and we are slowly getting to grips with its finer points!!

More anon. We are moored again on a visitor's mooring, but a bit further away from you-know-what!