Trip on Aremiti starting 2021-08-01
Newsletter from Aremiti on August 2021, Skipper Chris Wallace First Mate Julia Wallace.
Greetings from Aremiti in Craobh and Julia and Chris now back in Bristol. We have spent
the final stage of this year’s voyage in Scotland – in the southern Inner Hebrides. We
had been feeling the pull of Scotland ever since our first sightings of the Mull of
Kintyre from the coast of Northern Ireland. The sailing community in Northern Ireland
evidently regard this area of Scotland as their cruising ground - we encountered many
boats either just returned, or about to set off there, further whetting our appetite, so
we were full of eager anticipation as we set off from Rathlin Island
.
Having, up until this point, had a clear direction of travel, we were now faced with an enticing array of destinations ahead of us in all directions, making route planning particularly baffling. We had 3 weeks to get to Craobh – our wintering marina – less than 50 miles by the direct route – but where to start? Then of course, there was the weather, which ended up more or less dictating when and where we went. This was a period of extremely unsettled weather and unsettled forecasts which, after the quiet of July and the first few days of August, came as quite a shock to the system. So our ‘plan’ was effectively a list of destinations which we hoped to get to when the time for each was right. Never planning more than half a week ahead, we went hither and thither, frequently changing even short term plans as conditions demanded.
Our first Scottish landfall was Port Ellen on the island of Islay which, having a marina
and supermarkets, enabled us to prepare for a period of time in remote anchorages and
small islands - filling water and fuel tanks, getting in good food supplies, doing
laundry etc.
Islay was formerly capital of the Western Isles – seat of the Lord of the Isles. 25 miles from north to south and 15 miles east to west it has around 3,000 inhabitants, about a quarter of whom speak Scottish Gaelic, concentrated mainly in and around the villages of Bowmore and Port Ellen and a few smaller settlements. The rest of the island is sparsely populated and mainly agricultural. One of the major commercial activities is, of course, malt whisky distillation - the dark waters from the extensive bogs giving rise to the distinctive peaty taste. There are 7+ distilleries on the island, dotted around the coast. Today’s annual production is about 4,000,000 gallons. An interesting feature of these waters is the ‘amphidromic point’ near Islay, where the tidal range is zero. Despite this, tidal currents in the straits between islands are some of the strongest in the British Isles – yet another factor in passage planning.
Generally Islay seemed easier to explore by land than sea – its southern shores facing straight into the Atlantic with no deep or sheltered harbours or anchorages. We started exploring with a walk out along the extremely rocky eastern shore to pop into the distilleries of Laphroaig, Lagavulin and Ardbeg, before hiring a car to explore further afield - managing to drive 109 miles – no mean feat on such a small island. We visited the delightful present day ‘capital’ of Bowmore on Loch Indaal – a very gracious village with wide streets of white houses, main street leading up to circular church of Kilarrow - designed so that the devil could find no corners to lurk in! – and another distillery. We went north to Port Askaig for a first look at the Sound of Islay, and south west to Portnahaven – calling in at the settlements of Bridgend and Port Charlotte - purpose designed and built to provide for workers for distilleries.
Our plan to visit Gigha next was stymied after a night there, when conditions required us
to find protection from easterlies for a day or so.
We moved on to West Loch Tarbert
deep into the Kintyre peninsula - a nine mile long narrow inlet with a forested and
rock-strewn coastline. There is not a lot going on there - pretty much the only sign of
human habitation is the ferryport of Kennacraig with services out to Islay and Colonsay.
There is a derelict fishing harbour at the far end – but too shallow for us, so we
hunkered down about a mile away with anchor well dug in and plenty of swinging room. The
next three days were extremely blowy – gusting up to 35 knots on one day, and it was
hardly possible to dinghy ashore and certainly not to leave the boat unattended.
However, we enjoyed some beautiful calmer evenings. The meaning of ‘tarbert’ – a place
name which crops up all around this coast – is an isthmus which boats can be carried
across – portage sites. This became relevant when by a very happy coincidence we
discovered, via the rather intermittent internet connection, that Fiona and Bob on
Hekla, who we first encountered in Aberystwith and then again on Bardsey and have kept
in touch with, were currently berthed in the marina at East Tarbert – just a mile and a
half away in Lower Loch Fyne on the other side of the Kintyre peninsula.
They braved the
elements and walked over to visit - perfect timing - a convivial evening on board
considerably lifted our spirits! We were ‘trapped’ in West Loch Tarbert for 4 nights,
before the weather went through by which time the original easterlies had become strong
westerlies – not so good for the loch, but perfect for Gigha. We made our escape, timing
our departure by the ferry timetable so as to avoid encountering the monster Caledonian
MacBrayne ferry in a tight and rocky passage. Motoring hard into the wind we headed back
to Gigha
.
Gigha - ‘God’s Island’ or ‘the Good Island’ - 3 miles off the coast of Kintyre is just 6 miles long and 11/2 miles wide. After many decades of stagnation under a series of private owners, the local community bought their island in 2002 for £4 million, since when it has flourished with several private businesses springing up boosting the local economy and seeing an increased population. With 25% arable land, relative to its size, Gigha is the most fertile and productive island in Scotland.
We picked up a buoy in the bay off the main settlement of Ardminish – which is very
welcoming to yachts with a pontoon for dinghy landing, shop, showers, hotel and the
buzzing ‘Boatyard Bistro’. Best of all was the sunshine! We enjoyed a couple of good
walks on the island, similar in character to St Mary’s in the Scillies. We climbed the
highest ‘peak’ – Beinn Creag Bhan – just 100 metres high with its very pleasing summit
of rock and heather.
After a couple of days on Gigha, we thought we spied a ‘weather window’ suitable for
venturing out to the more exposed waters to the west of Islay and Jura. However, it was
not to be - the brighter weather did not prevail and conditions again became unsettled,
unsettling and frankly depressing – there’s a fine line between ‘atmospheric’ and dismal
– but the forecast was now downright atrocious. So our next change of plan took us,
ahead of the incoming Atlantic front, up Loch Sween and into Tayvallich
on the mainland.
This is a long picturesque loch guarded by a castle, flanked by pretty woods down to the
shore and with several narrow arms deep into the forested hills. Tayvallich, nestled
behind an entrance of rocks provides complete shelter and facilities such as a shop and
pub – all comforting in bad weather. We were able to fit in a good walk on our first
morning before the weather kicked off, delighted to find that our visit coincided with
the local Arts Trail weekend. Our third day there was probably wettest of the entire
trip with torrential rain all day.
However, at last there came a change, with a forecast
for a prolonged period of settled weather ahead, so finally we would be able to get to
the other side of Jura to less protected destinations. We set off on a misty morning
back down Loch Sween, en route discovering Perdika – our previous boat – bobbing on her
mooring at Achnamara
in one of the arms of the Loch.
Having just missed the north west going tide through the Sound of Islay, we anchored for
a night off Craighouse – the main settlement on the island of Jura. Jura had been
looming large in view during all our comings and goings, usually shrouded in mist/cloud.
It is a wild and mysterious island – mountainous, bare and largely infertile, covered by
extensive areas of blanket bog. 27 miles long by 2-8 miles wide its mountain range runs
the length of the island, culminating on the southern end in the Paps of Jura – three
rounded peaks the highest 785 metres – which, when not in cloud cover, dominate the
landscape of these islands. The one main road runs part way up the east coast linking a
number of small settlements north of Craighouse. The west coast is deserted and it is
one of the least densely populated islands of Scotland. Much of the land is good only
for deer stalking - there are about 5,000 deer on the island – outnumbering the human
population by 25 to one. Jura seemed an incongruous location for George Orwell to have
written his novel ‘1984’ - while living in a remote farmhouse on the island in the late
1940s.
Despite the rather forbidding nature of Jura, Craighouse is a sweet looking place - a
delightful surprise. The Jura Distillery and Jura Hotel are in prime position near the
pier, with pretty white houses strung along the coastline. We enjoyed a memorable
venison pie in the hotel – where we met the crew of another Ocean Cruising Club boat
full of exciting tales and plans to visit Canada via Iceland and Greenland.
Finally time for the sound of Islay – the 11 mile long, narrow strait between Islay and
Jura with fast running tidal currents We timed this to perfection with 5+ knots of tide
under us as we passed no less than three more distilleries. The passage which started in
disappointingly misty and murky conditions, miraculously morphed into brilliant sunshine
at the other end!
Our summer voyage culminated in 10 days of gloriously sunny, settled (if rather windless) weather – perfect for exploring those locations more at mercy of Atlantic lows, which can really only be done in such conditions. Patience rewarded!
Emerging at the northern end of the Sound of Islay, with the island of Colonsay on the
horizon, we turned to starboard for Loch Tarbert, Jura.
Described in the pilot as ‘the
wildest and most remote loch south of Ardnamurchan’ it is comprised of 3 sections. We
headed to the inner end of the outer section, gingerly picking our way, via sets of
leading lines taking us scarily close between rocks on each side, into a small anchorage
at the pass into the middle section, at Cumhann Mor. We then decided to go off on a
Swallows and Amazons type dinghy trip to explore the next section of the loch. However,
this turned out to be not such a good idea when we realised the strength of the tide
ripping through the pass. The mysterious swirling, bubbling, up-wellings and
down-wellings, fascinating when seen from the deck of a yacht, were distinctly more
scary from dinghy level, so we didn’t pursue this adventure too far, anxious that the
dinghy engine might not be a match for the current. Before moving on we explored the
raised beach at Cumhann Mor on foot – one of the numerous raised beaches on Jura – a
long wide strip of unvegetated pebbles about 15 metres above sea level, caused by the
rebounding of the land as the ice sheets retreated. We spent a final night in the loch
at an anchorage close to the imposing Glenbatrick Lodge
– from where mysterious high
speed launches emerged from time to time. It transpires that the lodge, accessible only
by sea, belongs to Viscount Astor and is frequented, among other notorieties, by David
Cameron and family for a spot of chillaxing!
And finally to the island of Colonsay – which had acquired the status of a holy grail,
following previous thwarted hopes to get there. Eleven miles across a glassy sea with
views out to Mull to the north looking very close, and 60 miles away to the south, the
coast of northern Ireland - it didn’t disappoint – at least in this weather. Our
marvellous guide on the Scottish Islands states baldly of Colonsay: ‘There are no good
anchorages’. We peeked into the harbour at the main settlement and ferryport of
Scalasaig, but this was too tiny, too rocky and too dominated by the huge pier for us to
feel comfortable there so we moved on to Loch Staosnaig, round the next headland to the
south which had plenty of space and good holding.
Colonsay is a delightful island – all the more special for being harder to reach. 8 miles
long by 3 miles at widest it has, since 1904 been owned by the Lords Strathcona –
currently the 5th, who lives in Colonsay House. Its resident population is 124, but
there are numerous holiday cottages and a hotel – owned by the estate. It has its own
brewery, a book shop and an annual book festival! What’s not to love! We walked north
and westwards on the island, taking in the highest ’peak’ - Beinn nan Gudairean, 145
metres, with stunning views out all around – across to Jura, Mull and the innocent
looking gap between Jura and the next island Scarba – Corryvreckan…. Colonsay House was
open for cream teas and a stroll around the gardens, checking out the impressively huge
Monterey cypress with the largest girth in the UK and many exotic and sub-tropical
species from the southern hemisphere Then on to Kiloran Bay - a stunning sweep of pale
golden sand with blue sky and sea. Too bad we had to leave ….
Our final flourish was the passage through Corryvreckan. This passage – just 2 miles long
and ½ mile across is one of the most notorious stretches of water anywhere in the
British Isles, caused by the speed of the current, the extreme turbulence at each end
and, of course, the presence of the 3rd largest whirlpool in the world – caused by a
pillar of rock rising from the sea bed. Even with absolutely no wind and a glassy sea we
felt some trepidation regarding the timing – not helped by the fact that the
calculations given in different guides result in slightly different times, some
suggesting that the only ‘window’ may be the 15 minutes of slack water. Needless to say
that in these quiet conditions, although there was obvious turbulence in the water, the
passage was almost disappointingly uneventful with no sign of the dread whirlpool.
And so we arrived into Craobh Marina
– an extremely sheltered haven formed by the linking
of three small islands. The staff there are welcoming, helpful and friendly and there is
a good boatyard. Aremiti is out of the water and prepared for winter, and we feel she
will be safe and happy there.
Now, 789 miles from Bristol and with 101 miles of walking achieved this year, we have ended our voyage. All very good – and not a single lifeboat was involved!
Julia and Chris