29 June

We never did move yesterday, as the rain that started overnight just kept on all day, steadily. We decided to read some more books, watch Bagdad Cafe on the DVD, with the sound playing on the quad speakers in the cabin. It was extremely cosy, and we probably drank a lot more than we should have, but hey, we were on a mooring in Tobermory! Having decided that, we reckoned it would be sompler all round just to stay until Saturday morning, when Morag could get a bus and ferry to Oban and get home from there. So we watched the ROund Mull race boats come into the bay and cross the finishing line, and I made a vidoe of some of that. We noticed Kaparda was among them, and Pippa gave us a wave as she helmed the boat trhough the moorings to an anchorage.

30 June

The plan was to get the boat over to the diesel pontoon as soon as the race boats left, and I was all set for that when I was called upon to do an errand of mercy, taking Pippa off Kaparda and putting her on the pontoon, as she had not been feeling well overnight and wanted just to get home. After dropping her off I moved Little Else on to the diesel pontoon, and we managed to fill her with diesel and water, and say goodbye to Morag and Pippa, before ten past nine.

Ju and I slowly squared away the boat, I had breakfast, then we set off for wherever, westwards, with up to 24 knots of breeze coming up behind us from the east, for once! We had a number of possibilities planned, Canna, Arinagour on Coll, Loch Scresort on Rum, and Loch Harport on Skye. The wind was strong and we put in a reef and felt more comfortable gybing towards Canna, so that was that. Visibility dropped down as the day progressed, and at one point I had to head for the RUm shore to see any land at all. Our chartplotter was extremely useful, and I would have run the radar if the domestic battery had not taken such a beating over four days in Tobermory. For the same reason I did not run the computer with the AIS software, but it had been fickle lately anyway. Merciless rain fell and we put in the waterproof washboard window, and got wetter and wetter as we went along. Finally Ju helmed us round the west point of Rum, and we were rewarded with better visibility up the sound, and a glimpse of three basking sharks just cruising off the point itself.

Motoring into Canna harbour with the engine having run for about 90 minutes to recharge the batteries, Ju reported hearing a strange sound. She summoned me back from the foredeck where I was preparing the anchor, to check it out. It was the alarm on the engine instrument panel, which I knew would probably mean that the engine was overheating. I checked all the gauges, temperature, oil, revs, and all looked normal. But this insistent little alarm kept sounding. I told Ju we would anchor, then cut the engine as usual. As we settled into the anchorage I said that I would leave it until the morning to have a look at the usual suspects in the engine cooling system, not wanting to do any work on a hot engine. So we left it overnight.

1 July

I didn't sleep well, turning over and over in my mind all the possibilities of problems with the engine. It's funny, I gain in confidence each year with what I can do with the engine on our boat, but always at the start of a longish spell of sailing it takes me a little time to feel I can cope with most problems. Ju helped me check it out, and we found the impeller was healthy, the anti-syphon was doing its stuff, and the seacock strainer was full of crud and seaweed, thus inhibiting the free flow of water into the cooling galleries. We scrubbed the grille and replaced it in the filter, and ran the engine. Success! Loads of water came out of the exhaust, so we reckon we have probably cracked it this time.

Spending the day at anchor in Canna is lovely. The weather was a bit of everything, from warm sunshine to cool rain, and we did some chores around the boat. I managed to reduce my tools locker boxes from two to one, and chucked out a load of rusty bent screws and 'in case' bits and bobs that have accompanied us for 9 years without ever being needed.
We had an unsuccesful attempt to fix the bow light again, and have decided to buy ourselves a new one, first chance we get.

2 July

Not a nice day, so I decided during the morning dog walk not to move on today, but to have dinner at the Harbour Tea Room, and hopefully have better wind for a trip tomorrow. Ju agreed, and we spent the morning on the boat, then after lunch we headed off for a walk around Canna, and ended up looking at a good part of Sanday. There is a superb sandy beach close to the new bridge between the islands, and we followed the coast round to investigate the highest point on the island, all of 56 metres or so. The view wasn't wonderful, as visibility had closed right down, but we could see Hysgeir and its surrounding rocks. It was a great walk, though, with fields empty of sheep and cattle, miraculously, so Tessie had her run of the place. We found an amazing inlet on the south coast of Sanday, reminiscent of a tiny Grand Canyon, where all the seas's flotsam and jetsam had accumulated over time. Vast quantities of wood, some broken, some perfect dresswed timber, rope, broken plastic containers, old trainers, even three still-inflated balloons advertising a clearance sale, where 'everything must go'! Clearly everything did! The craggy hills of Canna always remind me of a cross between Easter Island and Mount Rushmore, with all thos strange faced profiled in stone!

We had a lovely dinner at Mrs McKinnon's tearoom - garlic prawns and whisky chicken for me, and dressed crab and steak and mushroom pie for Ju! When we got back to Little Else a neighbouring boat was waving at us in a way that indicated they knew us. A moment's recognition, and it was David and Ann Stone on their new boat, Nova. We invited them over for a dram after their supper, and had a good blether.

3 July

A lovely day, so we're off. The south westerly wind was between 7 and 17 knots, so we decided on Loch Harport, and gybed our way across the 17 or so miles. The wind died away a bit, so we put on the engine and completed the journey under engine, with the main helping along from time to time when the wind strengthened again.

The two green buoys at Carbost were occupied, so we came in to line up with them and drop the anchor. When Ju dropped the revs, the alarm sounded shrilly again, and I had a look at the instrument panel, where the oil warning light had come on. Knowing that this was not good, I asked Ju to stop the engine the moment I dropped the anchor, rather than snubing it, for once. We didn't have much time to check out the bottom, but anchored in 9 metres (low tide), so we have put out 45 metres of chain for security.

We checked the strainer again at the seacock, and it was clear. The oli level was good too. Ju said that when she had put the engine into astern to slow down for anchoring, the alarm had stopped sounding. So it only seems to go off when the engine is warm, and when revs are reduced to idle speed in neutral.

We discussed what to do, and decided to go to the pub and enquire whether there was a mechanic hereabouts who might be able to help us. The barmaid told us that the barman is a mechanic, so we are seeing him at 6.30 or so to see what he thinks. But Ju is thinking about getting the boat back to Ardfern for the yard to work on the engine, if it needs worn bearing replaced or some such. We'll have to wait and see.