Day 34 Thurs 2 July. Puilladobhrain to Oban. 7 miles.
We had only 7 miles to go to reach Oban, so we had the luxury of a lie in after a couple of early starts. Consequently, it was not until 1030 that we got under way. The wind was very light from the South, but we were in no hurry, so we hoisted the jib at the entrance to Kerrera Sound and drifted up on the tide - such as it was.
Soon Robin got out the fishing gear, with the usual fruitless results. We gave that up at 1245, when the wind headed us, and progress started to be backward. So we started the engine and motored in to Oban Marina on the island of Kerrera - a short (free) ferry ride across the harbour from Oban itself.
We spent the afternoon buying train tickets for David and Robin, who are leaving tomorrow, and topping up the ship's stores at Tesco. We returned to Oban in the evening for a final celebratory meal in an Indian restaurant - there was no haggis on the menu, so we settled for a good hot curry instead. On the way over in the ferry, we had a wonderful display from a family of dolphins, which were playing in our bow wave.
Day 35 Fri 3 July. Oban to Bull Hole (Iona Sound). 38 miles.
David and Robin duly caught the first ferry of the day, to catch the train South. I joined them to say farewell, and to get a few last minute supplies, like jam doughnuts (unfortunately these only came in packets of five).
Returning to the marina, I retrieved my laundry, bought more gas and filled up with diesel. The free gas from Howth had lasted us three days, and most importantly had got us to Ballycastle to top up with a full cylinder - but it was just as well we waited for the shop there to open - otherwise we would have needed to go to Port Ellen on Islay, missing out on the Ardmore Islands.
I left the fuel berth at 1215 in a very light Easterly wind. This was complicated by the start of the Round Mull Race, the arrival of the seaplane flight from Glasgow, and the departure of the Calmac ferry. Having carefully threaded my way through the racing fleet under engine, the Scotch Mist started coming down in stair-rods, and continued all afternoon.
By 1800, I started the approach through countless rocks and islets to Tinkers Hole, a popular anchorage on the South West corner of Mull. However, in the excitement of avoiding an underwater rock in the final approach, I missed the turning, and found myself coming out into the Sound of Iona. But by this time, the sun was shining, and there was a light breeze, so I was able to unfurl the jib and sail to Bull Hole instead, where I anchored at 1930. This is the other recommended anchorage for Iona, but whilst relatively straightforward, it suffered from virtually continuous swell from the South West.
Day 36. Sat 4 July. Bull Hole to Loch Drumbuie. 33 miles.
I was in two minds whether to visit Iona or not. In the end lethargy won, as I decided I could not face having to inflate the dinghy - particularly as there was a decent wind blowing - SE force 3, gusting 5.
The weather looked like rain, so I struggled into my damp waterproofs, which in the event proved unnecessary. I set off at about 0910, and set the jib when I turned out into Iona Sound. An hour later, I had reached Staffa, and had a good look at Fingal's Cave - pity the sky was overcast!
A couple of hours later, the wind had almost died off Treshnish Point, and I was idly watching the gannets dive bombing straight into the water. I rolled up the jib to the size of a pocket handkerchief, just maintaining steerage way (on starboard tack, just to annoy the racing fleet, who were tacking South after an overnight stay in Tobermory!), and put Robin's fishing line over the side. Much to my surprise, within twenty minutes, I had caught two mackerel, which I duly cooked for lunch. (Memo - add lemons to shopping list.) This proves that there is nothing wrong with Robin's tackle - just his technique!
I continued sailing round the top of Mull, eventually having to tack off Mingary Point to avoid a Calmac ferry. At 1540, I started the engine, and an hour later, anchored in Loch Drumbuie, at the western end of Loch Sunart. This is a small wooded inlet, very sheltered from almost any direction, and consequently, I had to share it with about ten other yachts - pretty crowded, but then it was the weekend!
Day 37. Sun 5 Jul. Loch Drumbuie to Loch Moidart via Ardnamurchan Point. 30 miles.
The sheltered nature of Loch Drumbuie meant that there was no mobile phone signal, or even BBC radio, so I did not get the weather forecast until I was a couple of miles outside the Loch. I had intended to spend the day exploring the Sound of Mull, before going in to Tobermory for the night, and contacting Sally, a former colleague, who now lives at the Eastern end of Loch Sunart, to see whether we could meet up.
The forecast for today was perfect - more SE force 3 to 4, with the sun shining; however the outlook for tomorrow was not so good for rounding Ardnamurchan Point - a break in the weather with Force 5 winds from N to NW. Given the choice between a leg in T-shirt weather, with an offshore breeze, or the same thing with a strong headwind, or possibly even several days' delay, there was no real choice. Pity to miss Tobermory, but I've seen it once from the land; I was much sorrier to miss Sally, but if I could contact her in the evening, we could maybe still meet before I was too far away.
The actual weather was near perfect, with a SSE wind force 3 to 4, with plenty of sunshine. Shortly after mid-day I duly passed Ardnamurchan Point - the most westerly point of the British mainland (although several miles East of Waterford, which appears destined to be the most westerly point of the trip) - wearing just shirt and shorts. I then headed in towards Loch Moidart on a close fetch. The wind died two miles short of the entrance, but I had had a good sail.
The entrance to Loch Moidart is very rock-strewn, but the excellent pilotage notes from Clyde Cruising Club, plus the chart-plotter to help recognise where I actually was, made it quite straightforward. By 1545, I was at anchor just upstream from the mid-channel island of Riska, close to Castle Tioram. This is a picturesque ruin, which was torched by its owners, the Macdonalds, in 1715, to stop it falling into the hands of the Campbells.
After a well-deserved cup of tea and slice of cake, I inflated the dinghy, and explored upstream. As suggested by the pilot book, there is just miles and miles of wilderness, with no mobile phone signal, so no way of contacting Sally.
Day 38. Mon 6/Jul. Loch Moidart to Eigg. 12 miles.
By the time I had finished breakfast, Castle Tioram was beginning to prove an irresistible attraction, so I went there in the dinghy to explore. The island on which it is situated is less than two hundred yards square, covered in rock and bracken, and joined to the mainland at low tide by a sandy spit. The castle itself is fenced off, preventing access, so I had a quick look, then went across the spit and started walking up the path on the Southern shore of the Loch. The pilot book has got it about right, describing it as a "picturesque rocky path" and I had already discovered that it did not lead anywhere quickly, so, after taking a photo of the boat at anchor, I gave up.
By 1115, I was back on board, and had finished a cup of coffee. I had not been able to update yesterday's weather forecast, but there was no obvious sign that the promised bad weather had arrived, although the Loch itself was very sheltered. Therefore I decided to sail to Eigg, some twelve miles away. The run out of the Loch was a bit exciting at one stage, since I suddenly discovered, almost too late, that I was about to go the wrong side of one rock, but I recovered in time by doing a crash stop.
At the entrance, I got back the mobile phone signal, so was able to get an updated weather forecast. This was still for Northerly force 5/6, which was a bit disconcerting, since I only had a Force 1 breeze from the WNW - dead on the nose. Still I wasn't in a hurry, so settled down to a gentle sail. Two hours later, even this had disappeared, so I turned on the engine and motored to the Northern end of Eigg Harbour - Poll nam Partan.
Day 39. Tues 7 Jul. At anchor, Eigg.
The promised wind came through in the night, blowing Force 5 gusting 6 from the North West . Since I was due to pick up my next crew in Mallaig on Saturday, and only was twelve miles away, there was no need to go anywhere, so I didn't, and decided on a run ashore instead. Unfortunately, I got to the quay before the shop opened, so was unable to buy a map. Undaunted, I followed the path southwards along the coast until it dipped down to the shore by some caves, then retraced my steps and climbed up through the woods towards the Sgeir, stopping when it became apparent that the last two or three hundred feet appeared to be sheer rock.
Back to the quay for coffee and cake at the cafe, and to buy a map at the shop.
Day 40 Wed 8 Jul. Eigg to Arisaig. 9 miles.
Although the forecast was unchanged, the wind seemed to have moderated, so I decided to move to Arisaig, where we had spent a happy family holiday in 1958. I left Eigg under jib, and it soon became clear that the wind was still just as strong - indeed I was going faster than 6 knots under jib alone, and the sea was quite lumpy when I got out of the shelter of the island.
When I got there, I found the Arisaig entrance easily because of four boats coming out. The channel itself was well-marked by coloured perches on the major rocks, so proving straightforward. There is now a boatyard at Arisaig, which I am sure wasn't there last time - or certainly not as big, since its car park is now on the rocks I remember climbing on before breakfast! However, its moorings and onshore facilities are now of more immediate use. I picked up one of the moorings.
In the afternoon, I decided to go for a further trip down memory lane, walking along the road towards Rhu point. This now has a much better surface than fifty years' ago, with no grass in the middle, although still single track with passing places. After more than three miles, I passed the old jetty where we had parked the car last time. This is now in total disrepair, and then as now, marked the end of the surfaced road. I carried on down the cart track, trying to retrace steps towards the white sandy beach of my memory. The cart track ran out on the cliff-top with a wonderful view out towards Muck and Eigg. I decided not to climb down to the beach, and returned to Arisaig Hotel for a well-deserved pint.
Day 41. Thurs 9 Jul. On mooring, Arisaig.
A very lazy day, recovering from my exertions of the day before, cleaning the boat before Will & Bev arrive on Saturday, doing laundry and reading.
Day 42. Fri 10 Jul. Arisaig to Mallaig, 7 miles.
Overnight, I ran out of water again, resorting to the spare can, so number one priority was to refill the water tanks. Once the Eigg ferry had left the landing stage, I went alongside to refill, leaving the jetty at 1130.
It was a lovely day, with the wind of the last three days having blown itself out, leaving a Force 1 North Westerly, with bright sunshine. I hoisted sails at the entrance and drifted up towards Mallaig, finally losing my patience after lunch. By 1530, I had picked up a boatyard mooring in Mallaig Harbour, but they warned me it had not been maintained for some time, and suggested I might like to go to Arisaig instead, which did not go down too well.
I went ashore to check out the facilities; this involved climbing twenty feet up a vertical dockside ladder, which made bringing back any shopping quite tricky. Luckily, though, I only had a newspaper and a pint of milk.