Summer 2011, the Concrete Caravan heads Norf - day 1 (22.7.11)

With apologies to Deacon Blue :

"And I'll sail her up the west coast

Through villages and towns
I'll be on my holidays
They'll be doing their rounds
They'll ask me how I got her I'll say "I saved my money"
They'll say isn't she pretty that ship called Maragay"

Sitting on a mirror-like sea

Now if only it was that simple. The 22nd July 2011 dawned bright and sunny over the placid waters of the Firth, and the Skipper was up early and down to the yacht club with the usual piles of cruising crap in tow, plus a slightly bemused crewman in the form of Trevor. The club boatman, 'Phil the Chill' was nowhere in sight, and a quick phonecall revealed that he had indeed chilled out a little too much the night before. An hour or so later, he appeared with his monster beard and the launch was loaded up and we were on our way out to the Good Ship, bobbing happily at her mooring, anticipating the adventures to come. As we set off down the Firth, storm clouds were gathering ominously on the horizon, but the quiet motor to Kip Marina passed quickly and after filling up fuel and water we were off, bound for the entrance to the Crinan Canal at Ardrishaig.

With little wind, we motored past Wemyss Bay and down through the gap between Bute and Cumbrae, before setting sail briefly in a gentle Nor'easter. The stunning rock formations at the south end of Bute slid by, and we were off the top end of Arran when Trevor yelled 'Whale!' . A large Minkie whale surfaced momentarily and then dove under the mirror-like sea, slapping it's tail on the sea as it went. A few minutes later, another Minkie surfaced, blew its spout indignantly and vanished in a similar manner. Pretty awesome start to the wildlife tour...

As the afternoon drew on and the sun came back out, the breeze dropped away completely leaving us to motor all the way up Loch Fyne to Ardrishaig, sometimes in the company of porpoises which were playing in the clear waters and following the boat. We reached Ardrishaig in time to lock into the canal for the night, and were docked in the canal basin by 7pm. Trevor cooked up a storm in the galley whilst we waited for salty Seamen Farago, Finnigan and Janus to arrive. The ever lovely Emma from the canal popped in for a quick drink, and finally the drunken slabbards arrived from Edinburgh at about 11pm, claiming some nonsense about diversions on the roads or something. After some rowdiness, we settled down for the night, Trevor sleeping as far from the madding crew as possible up in the forecabin.

In the Ardrishaig Basin, Crinan Canal

Seaward side of Ardrishaig

Decent weather...

Looking down Loch Fyne

Posh mobo in the basin

Day 2 - Ardrishaig to Oban via the Crinan Canal

Day 2 of the odyssey dawned bright and sunny, and the Good Ship headed off into the first lock in the company of First By Farr (Last by Miles, ahem) who were on their way to race against Griff Rhys Jones, Rory McGrath and Dara O Briain in Tennents West Highland Yacht racing week. The canal, described by many as 'the most beautiful short-cut in the world' cuts across Kintyre peninsula very close to the ancient hill-top fort of Dunadd, capital of the Kingdom of Dalriada, the first Kingdom of Scotland. It was built to allow small ships to avoid the treacherous passage round the Mull of Kintyre, and like the Mull it even has it's own song sung here by some poor fella who ain't no Paul McCartney (although it does sound a bit like Mull of Kintyre...hmmmm) 

 

It was a cracking day and a quick passage through the canal, punctuated by frankly awesome scrambled duck eggs on toast (with eggs provided by Emma MacNair), with Seamen Finnigan and Janus doing sterling work handling the lines whilst the Skipper tried not to skewer people in the locks with the bowsprit. The canal really is one of the most beautiful wonders of Scotland - where else can you motor through a forest, with waterside pubs and wildlife everywhere you look? 

Finnigin sillygrin

First lock

Cairbaan Summit

Stopping the boats from bouncing off each other

Just before the duck eggs arrived...

Crazy Artist's house...he swims in the canal every morning

Crinan basin

Lovely Crinan

Twat with camera

Puffer getting up steam

 Following a quick stop at the Crinan chandlery for supplies, we left Seaman Farago to drive himself up to our rendevous point in Oban. A decent South-westerly breeze had arrived, the sun was shining and the sea was very, very blue as we locked out of the canal and into the waters of Loch Crinan, bound for the dangersous Dorus Mor tidal race at the entrance to the Sound of Luing.

Heading for Dorus Mor

 It was champagne sailing as we shot through the gap, and picked up the tide on the other side for an express ride up the Sound of Luing. Passing Easdale island (home to the world skipping stone championships every year) the breeze freshened and the Good Ship came alive, 10 tons of yacht powering her way through the seas in bright sunshine and clear skies. Soon Kerrera was abeam, and hardening up onto the wind slightly we squeezed the boat up the shore of the island before bearing away towards Oban town. IT wasn't long before we had chosen a mooring right next to the pontoons at Oban Sailing Club, and the Skipper was on the case with the evening's meal.

It was shortly after this that the shananigans started...First came the artsy drunken poses sitting on the boom under a beautiful sunset

 

Then someone started throwing fire around the place...

And then the natical disco, or 'nauti-disco' (I'll get my coat) began...

The high point of the night though was watching the moon rise directly above McCaig's Folly...stunning

At an undisclosed hour the crew finally collapsed, bellies full of rum and the memories of a cracking day of sailing seeping into the Skipper's dreams as the water lapped gently against the side of the the boat, the crew snoring contentedly and the world onboard feeling like a great place to live...