Boat delivery

The previous entry here might have suggested that we felt it was a little too early in the year, a little too cool and unsettled to be going sailing. But then something unlikely happened.

After our successful launch I was walking back from our pontoon berth when I found my passage blocked by the contents of someone's boat, an assortment of boaty bits, scattered about in an untidy heap in front of me. They were mostly rather old things, dirty looking fenders, coils of rope, pieces of wood and other mysterious objects but inevitably I stopped for a chat with the young couple who were clearing out the boat moored alongside. I discovered they had just bought her, an elderly but heavily built sailing yacht, for very little money. They are sailing novices, having very limited experience, but plan to take the boat to Whitehaven in Cumbria, over a hundred miles to the south but closer to where they live. Doing this alone was clearly going to be a challenge so someone with greater sailing experience would be useful as crew on the passage. I was sort of drawn in and almost before I knew it found myself agreeing to accompany them. Thinking back I was as surprised as anyone by this decision. What was I thinking! But there again, why not. 

March is, of course, rather early in the year to go sailing in Scotland. This, together with the untried and untested nature of the boat itself will certainly raise a few eyebrows. James, the boat owner, had already lined up an uncle, Darren, to come along so we have a crew of three. Does this make it less crazy? I don't know.

With a fair wind the passage might be done in two days, avoiding overnight sailing, and a logical stopping point just short of half way is Campbeltown where there is a sheltered loch and a good marina. But will the weather be kind to us so we can make the passage in two consecutive days? Forecasts are studied closely and disappointingly they change each day, the wind direction for the latter part of the voyage starting to come in from the south, just the direction we need to go. Strong headwinds are not what we need.

In the end we decide to do only the first leg, then leave the boat in Campbeltown until the gods give us a fair wind.

So off we go. We meet a cold easterly wind at the start but once we turn south along Kilbrannan Sound it warms up a little and with the sails up we are making good progress, the boat's elderly bow cutting smoothly through the water. The mountainous Isle of Arran blocks our wind for a time so the engine goes on but overall the passage goes smoothly and by 4 pm we are safely docked.

For the next leg, however, we really need a gentle westerly, ideally with some north in it, as this part of will take us around the Mull of Galloway then eastwards towards Whitehaven. Timing this passage right also means having both the wind and the tide going our way and whilst the tide and the tidal currents are reliably predictable, the wind is less so.

James has bought the boat with the idea of living aboard, close to where he works, then travelling back home at weekends. This will give him the opportunity to fix her up in his spare time and to sort out some of the things on board that are not currently working. One of those is the sea toilet, pretty essential one would have thought, but of course in a marina there are always facilities on hand. In all the boat is solidly built but has suffered somewhat from years of neglect. The sails are tired but serviceable - they would certainly get the boat to Whitehaven - and the small but powerful engine is one of the few things that does seem to have been looked after properly; it starts easily and runs well. There are, however, a few minor but rather annoying deck leaks to sort out as these have resulted in soggy boat cushions and as a result sleeping on board something of a trial. James is undaunted by this but his enthusiasm to complete the passage must be balanced against safety for what will be open sea, first across to Galloway and then across the Solway Firth.

Our first weekend passage plan came to nought as the forecast changed constantly and the presence nearby of deep depressions with strong winds brought us to the conclusion that it would be too risky. In the end it turned out to be cold and very wet with winds filling in from the south, exactly the direction we want to go. We need two days of favourable winds and all the gods seem to want to send us are contrary ones.

Then a few weeks later the forecast shows a run of north-easterly winds, some of which conveniently coincide with a weekend. Fresh plans are made with much studying of charts and tide tables. These are particularly important because our passage will take us around the Mull of Galloway, a place which boasts a notoriously rough patch of sea. But forecasts change, each day, so is this one going to stay good for us?

The day arrives and we are all up early to catch the tide (me sleeping on a soggy cushion on board and the other two sleeping in their car) although a little later than planned. There was a fresh breeze blowing into Campbeltown Loch all night long so on getting up I donned as many clothing layers as I could, the result being that after a few minutes sorting out mooring lines and other preparatory jobs I was sweating profusely. 

Here I am just starting to manoeuvre the boat backwards out of its berth into the most spectacular sunrise you can imagine. It is cold and breezy but although the water looks flat this turned out to be the calmest part of the whole day. 

To leave the Loch we had to motor out along the entrance passage which took us directly into the cold north-easterly wind and this was our first encounter with the rough water we were to experience all day. The heavy boat plunged headfirst into each wave, spray coming up and hitting us right in the face, covering us with salt.

Eventually the ebbing tide carried us out into deeper water where we turned south east and raised a small sail to begin our six hour journey across to the Galloway coast. Now the waves came at us from the side, rolling the boat about violently so that holding on to something solid at all times was essential. Most of my earlier body heat was gone and every jet of spray coming across the boat snatched away more and more heat from our bodies as we stared ahead towards our destination some twenty miles away. The hours ahead would be grim, all three of us soon succumbing to sea sickness and shivering in the cold. We clung on, gritting our teeth and hardly speaking as the boat romped along merrily, taking it all in her stride as if she was actually enjoying it. But in these conditions the crew are by far the weakest part of any boat.

Many hours later a decision had to be made on whether we should carry on to our planned destination, Portpatrick, which would have involved many more hours of suffering, or whether we should go instead into the safety of Loch Ryan and Stranraer harbour. The wind strength, force 6, had propelled us along and the cold and the rough seas had taken us to the limit of endurance so Stranraer it had to be. Although this was not the ultimate destination for James it is at  least closer to his home and therefore easier for him to visit, a place where he can fix a few boaty issues whilst waiting for a fair wind to carry him on the last leg home. Once safely in and warmed up we all agreed that despite the hardship we would not have missed the experience as it had given us a good appreciation of how much the tough little boat could take. Safety must always stand above everything else though.