'That's a pretty boat' is the most common comment we hear from anyone passing our boat. So what would they make of 30 of them, all at once?
Having arrived in Largs ahead of most of the fleet we get to welcome them as the skippers and crew arrive, tired after their long drive from their homes in England, and we can't help but notice their summer clothing, shorts and t-shirts, from starting their journey in the middle of the heatwave that has been affecting the south of England in recent days. Largs is at least 10 degrees cooler and the cool westerly wind saps away even more heat. Time for extra layers of clothing.
But when all are assembled and a fleet of 30 boats put to sea for an introductory sail around the Isle of Cumbrae the wind deserts us and these little boats can't even make ground against the weak tidal flow. Could this be a flavour of what is to come?
The real test comes a couple of days later as we move location to Tarbert, a passage of over twenty miles around the Kyles of Bute. We stop for lunch by the Buttock of Bute (seriously), eleven boats anchoring rafted up in An Caladh, a tiny sheltered harbour tucked away behind Eilean Dubh (Black Island), then we all continue beating to windward all down the West Kyle... but soon the fickle wind deserts us and it's engines on again. The Shrimper fleet slowly creeps into Tarbert, unaware that the event is secretly being captured on video - we are being filmed from above.
From this point on there is a planned itinerary of sailing and social entertainment for the days ahead, all predicated on ideal weather conditions - calm seas, sunshine and gentle winds. A glance at the forecast, however, reveals a different storyline and swift changes are made to the programme which involves tough decisions by individual boat skippers that evening before the barbecues are lit. Only a handful of boats decide to remain in Tarbert for a second day as planned so most of the fleet has to endure another tough day, sailing the twenty or so miles back to Largs the following day to avoiding the oncoming storm. Then after arriving they spend the next two days in land-based activities whilst the wind and rain blasts in, many making visits to local landmarks or National Trust properties. A lucky few catch a trip on the last surviving seagoing paddle steamer, the Waverley, and others take ferries across to Arran for the day. Not for the first time the Shrimper event has fallen foul of our unpredictable climate.
For us and Eun na Mara, Tarbert is our home port and having already made the passage to Largs and back once, the thought of repeating this in rather indifferent weather does not have much appeal. We decide to leave the boat for a while and move on board our campervan, Martin, and why not assist in shepherding a small handful of Shrimpers whose owners have decided to passage through the Crinan Canal, a relatively sheltered hiding place for small boats. Indeed without our presence a wayward inflatable dinghy would not have been prevented from making a passage through the canal on its own, propelled by the fresh wind.
The Shrimpers stop for the night at Cairnbaan, canal Lock #5, leaving us to retreat to Martin for a quiet night on our own. We head off for Knapdale and the beaver lake which lies to the south of the canal, a sheltered spot in the woods we have used before for overnight stays, but as soon as we stop we notice a plague of black flies settling all over the van - Ugh! Before even opening the doors we decide to drive away again to escape the horror. Perhaps these creatures have themselves eaten all the midges - we didn't stop to find out.
As it happens the forecast turns out to be pretty accurate. We awake to Martin being buffeted about by the wind and sit for a while watching the horizontal rain blasting sideways along the canal beside which we ended up being parked. Two days of this wind are forecast. Shrimper sailing is off the agenda but the socialising and holidaying continue for many. For us though, home is beckoning.
Despite wind being fearsome and the sea white with foam there's a bright sunny day waiting for us when we do finally arrive home, although even around our sheltered house the trees are bent over at alarming angles. We do regret having parted company with the Shrimper fleet - these sailors are good company both on the water and off - but local sightseeing on land we can do any time, should we care to do so and squeezing ourselves inside Eun na Mara whilst watching the rain come down has little appeal. We can see what is coming, thanks to good weather forecasting, enough to know that this particular spell of weather is going to be followed by another blast of wind and rain coming up from the south in the days to come. It is June and the sun, when it shines, brings heat with it. Without it, however, it is hard to imagine we are in summer at all. The wind whips away our remaining body heat and if there is rain as well we are not ashamed to become stay-indoors softies.
The urge to sail still exists, however, and several days later, whilst the Shrimper fleet are still living it up in Largs, Eun na Mara puts to sea again for a short passage to Otter Ferry, a sheltered anchorage on Loch Fyne. The return passage the following day will not be mentioned as the cold and rain returned in spades but the highlight of the trip does deserve mention, a beautiful sunset appearing just around bed time, a sight not to be forgotten for a long time.
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