Volunteering

Having moved away from Carradale village, we promised ourselves that in our new location we would not take on any of the rather onerous community responsibilities that we had previously saddled ourselves with. We would do this by avoiding joining local committees, this being the route to over-commitment, and so far we have been successful in this.

But this does not rule out volunteering.

The local community trust that manages the remains of our village's ancient castle needs volunteers to help maintain the paths and surrounding gardens and this is a regular once a month activity that I seem to have talked myself into. Then of course there are the beach cleans - periodic organised attempts to remove human debris from a small area of our coastline - which we are happy to participate in. Then, quite suddenly and at short notice, a message appeared on a local social media page requesting help from 'someone with sailing experience'. How could I resist.

The Royal Yachting Association (RYA) provides a qualification for yacht skippers which is recognised throughout Europe, perhaps even further afield. This is essential for someone who wants to make commercial use of their boat, hiring it out for holidays or other adventures. To qualify fully as an RYA Yachtmaster requires passing a theory exam followed by a practical test of your ability to handle a vessel, something that includes giving appropriate directions to the boat's crew so that boat handling, manoeuvring, mooring, sailing, motoring, etc., is all carried out correctly and safely. On a sailing boat the practical part requires you to have at least two crew members to whom you can give directions and this was what the 'sailing experience' request was all about. As it happens, being a crew member for the exam is a role I have filled before so it seemed perfectly natural, therefore, for me to put myself forward for this once again. It turned out, however, that on this occasion there would be a few things I wasn't quite expecting, so it turned out to be quite an exciting day.

The first little twist was the weather. The forecast wind on the chosen day would have discouraged most sailors from leaving port - 25 knots or more with gusts of over 40 knots and torrential rain showers, albeit interspersed with bright sunshine. Along with this there was a sudden drop in temperature brought on by the north westerly wind coming down from somewhere closer to the Arctic Circle. I would certainly need all my wet weather sailing gear and many more layers of clothing than I had worn all summer. Added to this, however, was the fact that the qualification now requires the boat to be sailed and navigated at night, in total darkness, which explains why we left the shelter of the harbour around four o' clock in the afternoon. By this time what heat there was in the day was disappearing fast, being sucked away by the rain showers which kept sweeping down from the surrounding hills.

Once on board the yacht I was briefed by the skipper, a Belgian man called Robin, whose command of English was thankfully very good, and he was first asked by the examiner to do a series of manoeuvres around the marina before we set off to sea, bringing the boat safely alongside a pontoon so that the crew could step off with mooring lines and secure the boat. All went well with this so we then left the harbour where my job as crew, and after stowing away the fenders and mooring lines, was to raise the appropriate sails so the engine could be switched off and we could begin to make our way upwind to our eventual destination some ten miles away.

The sailing boat was normally sailed by just the skipper and his wife as crew, and at over forty feet in length this was a sizeable sailing cruiser on which they had been living for some years. The deep keel made her a powerful sailing boat, so long as the crew were strong enough to raise the heavy mainsail and tension the sheets on one or more of the headsails as well. Which of course was where I came in. My role on board was to act solely on the directions of the skipper, no matter what I might think should be done, since this was part of what he was being tested on for the RYA qualification. So as soon as we started sailing upwind, pounding into the short choppy seas with spray flying over the boat interspersed with the rain showers, my role was simply to hang on and keep my head down to avoid getting too wet.

After a few tacks we sailed into the shelter of an island where we were required to anchor the boat, manoeuvring completely under sail, which again our skipper managed quite successfully. Once anchored the sails were lowered, but not for long as we then set off again, raising the sails once more as the boat leapt about in the waves, to continue our passage up the loch to reach a more sheltered stopping place known locally as Otter Ferry. I have sailed a variety of boats, some big, some small, so none of this was beyond my experience but it was, nevertheless, one of the most exciting bits of sailing I have done for a long time. I took a turn on the helm as we powered our way northwards at over six knots, the boat heeled over as the gusts blasted in, and I was impressed by the way she handled herself such conditions. I was less impressed by the bucketloads of spray that kept drenching me and my fellow crew member and I could feel the heat gradually seeping from my body as the night closed in. But despite all this we made it to our mooring just as the last of the remaining daylight slipped away.  

I think we were all rather relieved when having secured the boat to a mooring buoy we could go down below into the shelter of the saloon where dinner was being heated up for us. Warmth gradually returned to our bodies and we could hear the wind had moderated outside so perhaps our journey home might be a little less fraught. Before we could do this, however, the skipper's next task was to sail the boat into another small harbour, this time docking in total darkness alongside a pontoon without the help of the engine. For those who are not aware, sailing boats do not have brakes. So the only way to come alongside safely is to lower the sails at precisely the right moment and let the boat's momentum carry you slowly in until close enough for your crew step off and get the mooring lines secured to stop any further motion. There is no turning round and trying again if you get it wrong, no second chance, and if you don't get the boat close enough the crew should never fearlessly leap across the gap onto the dock - there is too much chance of something going wrong with this. I am happy to report that our skipper judged things perfectly and it all went without a hitch, the boat coming to a stop at precisely the right point.

Sailing back home was a downwind run, uneventful in the lighter wind and the clouds had also rolled away revealing a beautiful starlit night with a faint glow from the aurora to the north. It was now after midnight and by this point the cold had penetrated all the extra clothing I had put on so when our home port finally came in sight it was most welcome. My job for the day would soon be over. All in all I found the experience exhausting but very satisfying and the skipper and his partner seemed grateful that everything had gone so well.

More importantly this seems to show that even sailing opportunities can be found simply by volunteering.

Looking ahead

Nothing in life stays the same forever. Age comes along and messes up most things eventually but well before that, for us anyway, our everyday activities are subject to change. We moved into our present house nearly two years ago, a new location, with different places to explore around us which in turn brought us different ways in which to spend our leisure time. Gradually and often imperceptibly our lives have changed. One of these changes is in the way we shop. We have multiple choices now and they are closer to home, an easy distance to walk with a shopping trolley. There are even two different hardware shops close by, something which is difficult to understand when you have lived in a tiny village for so long. It feels like we have moved into a city! Then there is the way we move about. We like to walk, or cycle if we can but to go further afield we now have the benefit of a long distance bus which we can easily hop on to if we ever feel inclined to visit our nearest city, Glasgow. So perhaps it is inevitable that we should reconsider all our activities, the things we do indoors, along with the things we like to do when the weather is appropriate to spend time outdoors.

Decorating the house has been a big thing for us and then the garden has taken a lot of time and effort to bring it to the point where it has what we regard as the right mix of wilderness and cultivated areas. Creating a pond, one with the right mix of wild things that can look after themselves all year, has been a learning experience. It requires patience, the aim being to step away and let the beetles and bugs do their thing in peace. They have been doing this since long before humans came along so there is really no need for us to mess around trying to make the water right for them. Once they are 'happy' then other animals, amphibians perhaps, will be attracted to live there too. It took a few modifications before we managed to get the pond water level to stay constant - not too shallow when we have a dry spell but topping itself up from the garden runoff when it rains and a nice boggy area for it to overflow into. We have already spotted some small frogs in and around the pond and are looking forward to the next frog breeding season, the early spring, to see whether they consider it suitable for their little ones.

As the growing season comes to an end our garden's wild bits, which we have left completely alone, present a challenge if we are to follow guidance on managing this. At least once a year a wildflower garden should be mown, the idea being that this will allow the fallen seeds to germinate and by picking up the cut grass the soil will be less fertile, something that wild flowers enjoy. Mowing requires a heavy duty strimmer - the grass stems are waist high - and raking up all the cuttings afterwards is quite a physical task so we wait for a dry period to come along and when this does arrive the scorching sunshine that comes along too makes this a multi-day hot enterprise.

Internally our house is 'finished', not a term I ever thought I'd be using, but we have redecorated every room, stripped away all the wallpaper that came with the house and ripped up the floor coverings (carpet; including that laid in the kitchen and bathroom!), replacing them with something more to our taste. The last pieces of fresh wallpaper were pasted on with some relish since these may well be the last I ever stick up. My wallpapering skills will fade from memory over time, unless of course the whole lot slides off the wall and we have to start all over again.

So what is next, I wonder.

Something we have missed, being so busy working on the house since we moved in, has been our desire to roam further afield. Scotland is a country we love but we have still not explored it as fully as we would like.

So now we have the resources to do this we shall be pointing ourselves in a new direction. Our bikes are light enough to be slung on a carrier behind the van then unloaded when we reach a place with quiet roads or forest trails we can ride on. Already a few experiments have taught us our physical limits, in terms of distance and ruggedness so the future is beginning to look quite exciting.