Mull – tide by tide

A taste of old Scottish weather in South Uist and Mull

After cruises with perfect weather in September and May, we were bound to experience the other side of Scotland sooner or later. Rather too much of our 15 days in June was spent hiding from the weather instead of enjoying it.

The first plan was to head for Barra in the Outer Hebrides and work our way up some of the anchorages on the islands as far as Harris and Lewis.

*In the Sound of Mull, with the autopilot doing the work*

It started well, with two days of fine weather. We went from Kerrera to Tobermory, and left the next day in gentle winds for the 55 miles to Lochboisdale in South Uist, after deciding at the last minute against Barra. The pilot book says Barra’s Castle Bay is uncomfortable in strong southerlies and south-westerlies, and the (by then) forecast showed that was what we were about to get.

Lochboisdale Harbour is protected. The village has a bakery (fresh bread and cakes) and a hotel with a pleasant, old-fashioned bar and friendly landlord, but that’s about it. The tourist office that used to welcome ferry passengers from Mallaig has closed.

After sitting out a first day of heavy rain and strong winds on the boat and in the pub, the rain eased enough the next day to sightsee using a local bus across South Uist and Benbecula, the neighbouring island joined by a short causeway.

Benbecula has a fascinating landscape: it looks almost as much water as land, with small freshwater lochs dotted all over it, and sea lochs coming right inland.

On the way to the island, you can see the missile launching base and the big military radar and communications sites that are an important part of the South Uist economy.

After buying stores in the village of Benbecula we stopped off on the way back at the South Uist Museum, which is well worth a visit: it tells the story of the tough lives of the crofters, including the forced clearances in the 19th century that led many to emigrate. Now much of South Uist is owned communally by the islanders. As in Barra, Roman Catholicism survived the reformation and is still the main tradition on the island.

There’s a museum section about the island’s deep gaelic culture and the rich tradition of story telling and singing that persisted there long enough for it to be studied, collected and preserved.

It includes a touching connection with modern Scottish culture in the words of a song by Donnie Munro of the ’90s band Runrig. It’s called The Weaver of Straw, and is about Angus MacPhee, who came back to South Uist so traumatised after serving in the army in WWII that he never spoke a word for 50 years. His sole pursuit was weaving straw into familiar and fantastic shapes.

After three nights sheltering in the very well protected Lochboisdale marina, we decided to go back to the mainland. It was clear that in two days time another series of depressions was going to pass close to the outer Hebrides so we’d just find ourselves stuck in the next anchorage north.

So we sailed back the 60 miles to Loch Droma na Buidhe (a.k.a. Drumbuie) on the mainland in 9 hours, averaging nearly 7 knots, with the wind on the beam, the fastest point of sailing, with intense small showers scurrying across our course and occasionally catching us. It was much the best sail we’d had all year.

After anchoring for the night in peace and quiet we sailed 5 miles to Tobermory for a pontoon berth. There were strong winds forecast right through till Saturday night, so there we stayed, taking the opportunity to see some of the island and do outstanding repairs and maintenance on the boat.

*Tobermory Bay from the bus across the island*

*We went by* bus to Calgary Bay *for a walk. There is an excellent ca*fe tucked away, *and an interesting arts centre with a sculpture trail*

We *twice went in the rain to* an 80 seat mobile cinema which was in Tobermory for a week. It is in a *truck* that expands sideways like an accordion.

When the rain cleared and the wind eased for a few hours on Sunday we had a sunny morning sail 15 miles down the Sound of Mull to Loch Aline, which is pretty and sheltered.

*The head of* *Loch Aline before the rain and wind*

Plans to go for a walk ashore were abandoned next day in heavy rain, because we’d be soaked in the dinghy. So we stayed at anchor a second day and night, read, played backgammon and watched old iPlayer and Netflix downloads.

Loch Aline is pretty, sheltered and has a thriving village near a quartz sand mine, which is used for making high quality glass. It’s said to be the only sand from an underground mine in Europe. Quartz is a valuable material and the tonnages aren’t large, so the facilities aren’t intrusive.

*Sand is loaded onto ships here in Loch Aline*

*The waterfall to the left of the* *ruined* *castle in the Sound of Mull is one of the ‘Widows Tresses,’ which fly back up the cliff into the sky like fountains, in strong west winds – I’ve seen them do it.*

*Nearing Loch Don: Duart Castle at the south end of the Sound of Mull*

From Loch Aline, we sailed a gentle 12 miles to Loch Don on Mull, a good place for watching wildlife. The channel into the loch is narrow, muddy and winding, almost like a Suffolk river. Once in, it is well sheltered. We anchored overnight in the deepest pool in the loch, all of 6 metres, which makes it unusually shallow for Scotland.

*Catching the last of the sun in Loch Don*

*The hills of Ross of Mull from Loch Don*

Our last anchorage of the cruise was Puilladobhrain (Pool of the Otter), a delightful, small stretch of shallow water sheltered by reefs and islets.

It is also one of the most popular anchorages, not least because of the lovely half mile walk over a low hill to Tigh an Truish, a pub and restaurant next to the Bridge Over the Atlantic, the old stone bridge connecting the island of Seil with the mainland. We found what we thought was the last space to anchor, until 4 more boats brought the total to a dozen.

*Spring Fever anchored in Puilladobhrain*

*The Bridge over the Atlantic,* *whose slim arch can* *take* *the weight of* *heavy* *trucks*.

The forecast for the following day and the rest of the week was bad, with Force 6 and 7 mentioned, and gale Force 8 expected for a while. It was also forecast to be very wet.

So after lunch in the pub, we sailed back to our base in Kerrera to pack up ready to go home a couple of days later.

Actually, we haven’t done badly at all in our time here if we look at the bigger picture. Since September, we’ve been on board nearly 40 days, and there have only been about 8 or 9 with bad weather. They have all been in the last fortnight, but that still makes a pretty good overall score for holidaying in Scotland.

The sun shines on the Hebrides

The West of Scotland had the best weather in the UK in May, for the whole 18 days we were there. Bright sunshine, blue sea and mainly light north and east winds were ideal for checking out new anchorages and visiting old favourites, several of which we’d have avoided in any other kind of weather.

*Not the deep south but Loch Moidart – another sunny meal in the cockpit*.

After fitting out for three days in Kerrera Marina, we spent the first night in Loch Droma Buidhe, near the entrance to Loch Sunart.

*Sunset in Loch Droma Buidhe, protected by the narrow entrance in the distance*.

The next day we explored Loch Sunart, picking up a buoy at Salen for a lunch stop, and then to Loch Teacuis for the night, which branches off Sunart. Teacuis has a difficult, rocky entrance but opens up into a beautiful sheltered space, surrounded by woods and hills. It is close to Droma Buidhe

*Anchored in Loch Teacuis* *for the night*

Next stop was the lovely little island of Canna in the Sea of the Hebrides, timed for the Canna Cafe. Last year we arrived on a Tuesday and found that was closing day. (This year, Tuesday’s a pizza night). There’s a delicious and inventive menu, featuring seaweeds in all sorts of combinations with fish, vegetables and meat. The chef’s Canna Cookbook is a big seller which recently we saw displayed prominently in Waterstones, but we took home a copy from the café and plan to try out its advice on cooking seaweeds.

*My sp*icey egg laksa with dulse (a seaweed) croquettes and kelp. The starter was fritters of kelp with another plant called sea spaghetti (because that’s what it looks like).

From Canna we made a lunch stop in the spectacular Loch Scavaig, which is surrounded on three sides by the dramatic Cuillins of Skye, mountains of modest height but tough reputation, which rise from sea level. The Cuillins include 11 of the 282 Munros, hills over 3,000 feet, which keen walkers in Scotland spend many years ticking off on their maps. The Pinnacle in the Cuillins is the only Munro where ropes have to be used.

*Michael went for a swim in the sheltered loch Scavaig, though at 12 degrees it wasn’t for me.*

We spent the night in Loch Harport, after beating 20 miles up the coast in an unexpected Force 6, which was dropping off the Cuillins on an evening that was probably much calmer everywhere else. Loch Harport was serene as soon as we entered. It is home to the Talisker distillery.

*The Cuillins in early morning as we left Loch Harport*

Next to see was the beautiful Loch Moidart on the mainland, last visited by us in 2013 and inaccessible if there is strong onshore wind or swell.

*Spring Fever* *is anchored* *in the distance*, *just in front of the small island* *in Loch Moidart*

*The castle, which is connected to the land by a sandy causeway carpeted in samphire*

*Spring Fever at anchor* in *Loch Moidart*

A local sailor said Richard Branson’s sister owned Shona, the largest island in the loch, which has a mansion with guest houses scattered around it in the woods and by the shore.

After a week away we spent the night at Tobermory for fuel, water, groceries and a shower, and then enjoyed a gentle day-long motorsail in light winds round the west of Mull. We went past Fingal’s Cave on Staffa, through the Sound of Iona, passing the Abbey. For photos of both see last year’s cruise book.

Next stop was Loch Ardalanish, on the south coast of Mull, which we would never have attempted without the excellent Antares large scale modern charts. They are an absolute essential for any Scottish cruise, and we first used them in 2012.

Just like off the Cuillins, the wind suddenly rose to Force 6 in the lee of the hills on our way along the coast, so we were nervous as we battled through the narrow rocky entrance – only to find a magical calm as the lay of the land entirely protected the little bay.

There’s room for very few yachts to anchor comfortably but luckily we were alone. There’s also a second even smaller branch of the loch right next door, where another yacht spent the night.

Next day we tried another complicated rocky entrance, using Antares, when we motored into Inner Loch Tarbert, which took us to the centre of the island of Jura.

After a good night’s sleep we went down the Sound of Islay with the tide, then inshore of the Ardmore islands, carefully following the Antares chart. The short cut looks too difficult on any other chart. That night was the only uncomfortable one, spent on a buoy outside Ardbeg distillery on Islay, where a nasty little chop made the boat rattle and squeak all night. (We skipped the distillery visit).

With the wind in the north, veering east, we headed for Loch Stornoway, on the mainland just north of Gigha, because it is perfectly sheltered in these conditions (but badly exposed in southerlies). The Admiralty chart labels the loch as dangerous because of the extensive reefs in the entrance, but Antares charts show a simple way through, and once inside the loch it is broad, shallow and sandy.

*Looking back at the entrance* reefs *from Loch Stornoway*

We were so relaxed on a sunny evening that we just put out the usual 4 times depth of the chain, and had a harsh lesson as a result: there was a sudden short blast of wind from the east at 1am that ripped the anchor out of the sand. We should have been more alert to that risk after the two previous unexpected strong winds, neither of which had lasted more than an hour.

I’ve never seen an anchor drag so far, so fast and – luckily – so noisily. We doubled the chain length and went back to bed, checking regularly for the rest of the night. But Spring Fever did not budge another inch.

It’s a warning for the future: even in benign conditions, Scotland can produce blasts of wind. It has prompted us to extend our ground tackle before we sail again. (We had 30 metres of chain plus 50 metres of rope, but have since doubled the rope length. A racing hull cannot take the weight of chain in the bows that many Scottish cruising boats have).

Finally, from Loch Stornoway we went to the delightful island of Gigha, with its temperate climate warmed by the Gulf Stream.

*…the lovely Achamore Gardens, with restoration now well under way..*.

*…a sheltered Gigha mooring in everything but easterlies*….

*…and lunch* *at the Gigha* *cafe*. *There’s also a well-regarded restaurant, but it isn’t* *open early in the week*.

We didn’t stay the night at Gigha, deciding instead to go back to Loch Stornoway for its perfect shelter from the forecast northerly to easterly breeze and also to be 8 miles closer to home for the next day. Needless to say, we put out a lot more chain.

We motor sailed up the Sound of Jura, through the Dorus Mor tidal gate against a fading neap ebb tide and then north up the Sound of Luing – ferociously rough places in bad weather because of their fierce tides, but benign that day.

We gave the infamous Corryvreckan between Jura and Scarba a wide berth, though at neap tides its famous whirlpool and standing waves would be absent, and I suppose we could have gone through if we had really wanted to.

We were back at base on Kerrera by 7pm, ready to pack up and go home. The weather broke the day after we left!

Postscript – Autumn sun around Mull, Ulva, Coll, Tiree and Treshnish

After waiting all summer for summer, it finally arrived in Scotland last week, with sun, light winds, and calm blue seas.

*Heading across the Firth of Lorn past the lighthouse to the start of the Sound of Mull*

We were back for the first time since late July. The wind was generally from the east, so it was a good week to see the little islands west of Mull – Treshnish, Ulva, Coll and Tiree, plus a night in beautiful Loch na Droma Buidhe and another in a sheltered gap in the rocks near Iona called Tinkers Hole. For this week, captioned photos tell the story.