Coats Cup – Lewis and Harris via ‘The Butt’

Tarskavaig Hanse 400 LOA 12.1 metres Crew – Andrew Thomson, skipper, Neil MacDougall, Robin Arnott, Alison Thomson and David Bushby Dates 21 August – 3 September 2021

Lewis and Harris via ‘The Butt’

Craobh to Sound of Mull

In keeping with the tradition of previous years, the 2021 passage plan of ‘head north and west as conditions permit’ applied. However, we needed to get to Ullapool for a crew change on 26 August.

Following a pre-departure shop at Tesco in Oban, Neil, Robin, Alison and I arrived at Craobh on Saturday afternoon. With the south-flowing ebb tide still running, and the rain teeming down, there was little incentive to make an early departure, and we repaired to the Lord of the Isles pub with alacrity. In due course the rain eased, and we got Tarskavaig loaded up and set for sea.

As soon as we cleared the breakwater and increased the throttle, it became apparent all was not well, with excess vibration coming through the helm. There was nothing that could be done about this now, but I was adamant that we would not be spending the first night on board tied up to a pontoon. Motoring at a gentle four knots was easier, and we had a short hop round to Toberonochy on Luing to anchor for the night, with bolognese and pasta for dinner.

Sunday morning dawned brighter, and after 09:00 I made some phone calls to arrange a lift out, as something was clearly not right below the water. The hoist at Craobh was undergoing annual maintenance, but Ardfern offered us a slot at 09:00 on Monday which was great news. Much to my surprise, the phone at Ardfern was answered by Charlie Ambrose, the Hanse broker from whom I bought Tarskavaig in 2011. He was back in Scotland temporarily after COVID put a halt to his world, sailing on the east coast of America.

With time to spare, we went ashore at Toberonochy, admiring the attractive gardens in the village before walking up the road to the graveyard, which affords good views across to Scarba and Lunga. Back on board, we departed for Ardfern, with a quick stop at Craobh to collect some spares. It was turning into a very sunny day but with little wind, which would be a recurring theme for the rest of the trip. We motored through the Dorus Mor and anchored in the north-east corner of Loch Craignish – a new spot for Tarskavaig. Dinner on board was a Thai chicken curry, cooked by my sister.

We awoke to an early morning mist, and left the anchorage shortly after 08:30 for the Ardfern slipway. The ebb tide was running, and Ardfern had other jobs lined up, so a quick turnaround was essential. Fortunately everything went very smoothly, and the yard soon had Tarskavaig out of the water. It was immediately evident that some

Early morning mist over Loch Drumbuie

rope had got caught between the prop and anode. A hot knife burned out the offending strands, and with the hull cleaned too, we were back in the water within two hours and on our way to take advantage of the flood tide north.

Tarskavaig had a sunny and straightforward passage to Loch Drumbuie, but with no wind or light winds on the nose the engine and the autopilot were kept busy. There was also time to configure the new chartplotter, after delving into the user guide to find which menus contained which settings. Timber harvesting operations had commenced at Auliston Point since my last visit, with the timber being sent onwards by sea rather than fragile rural roads.

Arriving at our destination at 18:30, we anchored in the north-east corner of the loch, with a variety of other yachts for company. Sausage casserole was served for dinner. It finally felt as though the cruise was now underway.

Sound of Mull to Sound of Sleat

The conditions were similar the next morning, and we were underway by 07:50. Light mist in the Sound of Mull became briefly dense off Kilchoan but very quickly dissipated, and Ardnamurchan was rounded in glorious sunshine. This continued all the way up towards the Sound of Sleat, perfect conditions to enjoy the company of a small pod of dolphins which followed us for 15 minutes.

The sea between Mallaig, Ardnamurchan and the Small Isles is able to deliver marine life encounters with remarkable consistency. The winds remained too light to sail until we entered East Loch Alsh, when finally we were able to dispense with the engine. An hour of pleasant and peaceful short tacking took us to the Skye Bridge, thereafter the winds returned to be on the nose and we motored the remaining eight miles to Poll Domhain, arriving at 18:40 with one other yacht for company. A cold roast chicken dinner accompanied by vegetables was most welcome. It had been a long day, but we had made up lost ground and were now back on schedule for our Thursday rendezvous in Ullapool.

East of Skye

Wednesday morning was grey and overcast, and remained so for most of the day. The winds were a little fresher but still northerly, and once again the engine and autopilot earned their keep. This was the first time Tarskavaig had been north of Gairloch on the mainland coast, and the first time I had dispensed with Admiralty charts in favour of Imray C67, which is excellent for this area. Slow but steady progress was made, and in due course we closed in on the Summer Isles, and passed through the skerries east of Glas-leac Mor to anchor in the bay on the southeast corner of Isle Ristol. One of my earliest boating encounters took place nearby around 40 years ago, when a family holiday in Achiltibuie included a short trip in a rowing boat from adjacent Dornie harbour; it was good to be back.

Not everything was rosy though – it transpired shortly after we put the anchor down that the water tank was empty. There were 20 litres in jerry cans, which would be enough to keep things ticking over until we could replenish supplies at Ullapool. Despite this blip, it did not impact the kedgeree dinner, cooked by the skipper.

The next morning there was time to go ashore onto Isle Ristol and stretch the legs. It was a stunning day, albeit flat calm, and the An Teallach hills to the south of Loch Broom looked spectacular. Anchor weighed, we passed through the Summer Isles, observing considerable construction activity on Tanera Mor, before arriving at Ullapool. Having called up the harbourmaster, it transpired that berthing on the pontoon, hidden on the inside face of the pier opposite the town, was limited to 15 minutes as several sightseeing boats were using it. This persisted throughout the day, and as water, shopping, crew changes and another gas bottle were all on the list, it meant we needed to make four round trips from a mooring buoy in the bay.

Diesel was not available directly, and had to be left for the time being. In due course the boat was restocked, David Bushby was welcomed aboard having caught the bus from Perth, and my sister was bid farewell. Ullapool was bustling with tourists, caravans and campervans, and it was a relief to escape to the peace and tranquillity of the sea.

A short hop from Ullapool took us to Isle Martin, where we anchored off the beach at Ardmair for the night. Dinner was a delicious stew, prepared by David’s wife Gitte, which had survived the bus trip north. Plans for the next few days were discussed, and as conditions were settled and the tide times around the Butt of Lewis favourable, it was an ideal opportunity to make the passage to Loch Roag on the west coast of Lewis, which had been on my tick list for a few years.

Rounding the Butt of Lewis and on to Loch Carloway

Friday 27 August…and the long day ahead called for an early start. Tarskavaig was underway by 06:30, and retraced her route back through the Summer Isles. Two hours later we were clear of the mainland and out into the North Minch; with a smooth sea and little wind the engine and autopilot were again kept busy.

The passage across was straightforward, albeit with a rolling swell from the north-east once the shelter of the mainland coast was lost. There was no sign of breaking water at the Butt, and we were able to round it 0.3 nm offshore, eight hours after departure, in wall-to-wall

sunshine. Another yacht was further offshore heading east, the first vessel we had seen at close quarters since leaving.

Now on a south-west heading, it was finally possible to get the sails up and give the engine a rest. An hour of pleasant sailing ensued, ambling along at 4.4kts before the wind died, and the engine was required. The sunny conditions persisted until we were abeam of Shawbost when a heavy and damp fog bank set in – not part of the script.

With no anchorages until East Loch Roag, there was nothing for it but to press on. With two lookouts, a chartplotter with AIS transceiver, a foghorn, and dead reckoning, it was with some relief when I was able to alter course to a south-east, then east heading, and even more relief when the north shore of Loch Carloway appeared out of the murk.

Soon after an open workboat passed by; the hardy helmsman was clad in a basketball vest. He must have thought we were overdressed clad in our ‘foulies’. By now I was happy to get the hook down, and we anchored just east of the Tin Rocks buoy in 8m at 19:00, ready for the chilli which I had made on the passage during the day.

Remains of Carloway blackhouse

Beach on Little Bernera

East and West Loch Roag and Bernera

The following morning, our top priority was to get diesel, as we had not taken on board more fuel since leaving Craobh. Diesel is widely available through the Council fuel scheme if you have an account. Regrettably, I had returned my fuel fob three years ago as the terms of the scheme changed – if only I had kept it.

Fortunately a friendly passing fishing boat agreed to help us out using the fuel pump at Carloway pier, and in due course the tanks were filled up. Moving off the pier, we anchored in the south-east corner of Loch Carloway, and went ashore to visit the renowned Dun Carloway broch. Whilst closed for renovation, it was still possible to appreciate the structure close up. Back on board, with Admiralty Chart 2515 covering the saloon table, the full extent of anchorages within East and West Loch Roag was clear; one could easily spend a week exploring.

With only two days available before heading south, nearby Bernera Harbour looked like a good spot to appreciate our surroundings, and so it proved. After anchoring, we all enjoyed a trip ashore to visit the beach at Bosta and the site of a reconstructed Iron Age house.

Robin and I subsequently went for a walk over Little Bernera whilst Neil and David kept an eye on Tarskavaig. There were beautiful sandy beaches everywhere and no other yachts to be seen – what more could you ask for? Back on board, a cold roast chicken supper was followed by a card school. The skipper won twice, making amends for a poor showing the previous evening.

Sunday, and the objective was to visit West Loch Roag. I had thought a trip out to sea would be required, but as HW was approaching, the passage through Caolas Cumhany which separates Great and Little Bernera looked a better option. As the tide was still flooding, and the clearances looked fine, I was prepared to give it a go without undertaking a dinghy survey first, as advised by the Sailing Directions.

With crew on the bow keeping a lookout, and passing two swimmers in drysuits towing drybags who had been wild camping on Little Bernera the previous evening, as one does, we made it safely through the Hebridean equivalent of the Corinth Canal, before following the transits of Chart 2515 to clear the rocks within Camas Bosta and enter West Loch Roag, thence crossing to Pabay Mor. Ashore, the recurring theme of unspoilt sandy beaches continued.

Walking to the summit of Roiraval we were rewarded with a view across the ‘lagoon’ to Pabay Beag, where a local yacht was at anchor, and we could also see the remains of what appeared to be an old fish trap; two stone dykes constructed in the intertidal zone. Our trip back to Tarskavaig in the dinghy was interrupted by a meeting with a paddle boarder, who was circumnavigating the island.

From Pabay Mor, it was a short hop to Vacsay, anchoring in the bay on the west side of the island. Another trip ashore beckoned, and the discovery of a lagoon at the south end of the island, accessible through a narrow

Vacsay anchorage

channel. The answer to ‘could Tarskavaig make it through?’ would sadly have to wait for another time. After a good walk around the island we returned to the yacht, and made another short hop to the bay on the west side of Eilean Teinish for an overnight anchorage. Evening drinks in the cockpit were interrupted by an otter on nearby rocks, our first sighting on the trip. Dinner was vegetable soup – a good way of using up the leftovers – followed by biscuits and cheese.

South again to Hushinish and Kallin

Monday, and the start of the trip back to Craobh. I wanted to make sure the water tanks were topped up, and a short motor round to fill up at Miavaig, a very sheltered harbour, ensured we were all set for a 10:00 departure.

Once out to sea, having passed inshore of Sgeir Gallan, a couple of attempts were made to sail, but flukey and light winds dead astern are not Tarskavaig’s best point of sail, and as there was still some ground to cover the sails were dropped and the engine engaged.

I was keen on a stop off Mealasta, possibly with a view to going ashore, and we anchored in 5m off the stunning beach on the east side of the island shortly after 14:00 to take stock during a late lunch. Waves were breaking on the sandy beach and landing did not look ideal, but Robin and I decided to give it a go whilst Neil and David stayed on board.

Mission accomplished, despite getting caught by a couple of waves. I later found out that an inlet at the north-east corner of the island is a better landing spot. Ashore, passing otter tracks on the beach, we walked up a nearby summit to get a view across to the west, and were rewarded with the sight of an eagle cruising over the sea cliffs at Rubha a Bhain Mhoir, and another eagle over Griomabhal on Lewis. St Kilda and the Flannan Islands were also clearly visible; our landing had been worthwhile.

Once back on board, the journey south continued, passing cautiously over the bar through Caolas an Scarp at close to LW, neaps, before rounding Hushinish Point to anchor in the bay, with one other yacht for company – a rare occurrence on this trip.

The following day started early with a 07:00 departure from Hushinish, as I wanted to be anchored off Skye or Canna by the end of the day. The prospect of dinner at Café Canna was very appealing, but a phone call shortly after 09:00 confirmed our worst fears; they were closed on Tuesday. This news meant more shopping would be required, and a stop at Leverburgh to visit the Community Co-op was the obvious choice. We tied up alongside the pier, leaving Neil and David to tend the lines whilst Robin and I walked round to make our purchases. With black pudding in the basket, things were looking up.

Back at the pier, the water tanks were filled again, and we departed at 10:45 for Kallin harbour on Grimsay, where I knew we would be able to get scallops to go with our black pudding. A few minutes later once we were heading south-east down the Sound there was great excitement when the wind filled, and for ten joyous minutes we sped along at seven knots under sails alone before the wind dropped and normal engine service resumed.

This did mean that there was plenty of hot water, and we all took turns to have a shower on the passage down the Uist coastline. Our arrival at Kallin felt very much like a return home, having spent a few days alongside in 2017 awaiting repairs, and it was great to catch up with some of the locals who had been most helpful at the time.

A white tailed eagle overhead was being harried by some gulls – not an uncommon sight in this part of the islands. Kallin Shellfish had taken over the old fishermen’s co-op business since our last visit, and incorporated into a new café and chandlery – a great addition to Grimsay. The seafood shop is still located round the bay, and we walked round to buy two large tubs of scallops for dinner.

Having filled the water tanks up yet again, we departed at 15:30 – destination Canna. Once out in open water the sails were raised, and we managed to sail around 

4.5 knots, but with the wind dropping and more than 30 miles still to cover the engine had to be pressed back into service. However after two hours the wind filled from the NE to a F4/5 which gave a superb passage for the remainder of our journey, averaging 7.5 knots. Two miles north of Canna we were treated to a fine Hebridean sunset over South Uist. Darkness soon followed, but there was sufficient light in the sky to pick up a mooring in Canna Harbour. It had been another long but productive day, which fully merited our scallop and black pudding supper, cooked by the skipper.

Canna to Tobermory and then Craobh

Wednesday 2 September, and we were definitely on the homeward stretch. We slipped the Canna mooring soon after 09:00 without going ashore, the mooring fee was subsequently paid once I got home. Once out into the Sound of Canna, heading south then east, a steady northerly breeze picked up and we had a good sail for 20 minutes before the wind died and our speed dropped to less than three knots. C’est la vie!

Progress resumed with the engine, but in due course as we got further offshore from the south coast of Rum, the breeze returned sufficiently to allow a return of sailing, and a very pleasant 4-5 knot passage in glorious sunshine took Tarskavaig to Tobermory, arriving at 15:30, tying up on the pontoons which were a hive of activity.

The contrast with some of the anchorages we had visited earlier in the cruise could not be more marked, but Tobermory did allow the decks and dinghy to be given a good clean, and various shoreside tasks attended to with ease. Following our grafting, a drink was in order, and I was sorry to see that the Macdonald Arms had not survived COVID lockdowns and was no longer trading. The Mishnish was able to quench our thirst, followed by a curry at the Spice of Mull, and final nightcaps back on board.

Thursday morning, and our final day at sea. We were underway by 08:30, and after a short spell of motoring, we found a good north-easterly F4 to aid our passage down the Sound of Mull in sunshine. The wind gradually eased as did the sun, and by Ardtornish the engine was back on. Although the wind did not return, the sun did and by the time we had passed through Cuan Sound the sunhats were out.

This was a perfect summary of the cruise – no shortage of dry and sunny conditions, but a distinct lack of wind. Despite more reliance on mechanical propulsion than I would have liked – the distance logged was 448 nm, of which only 66 nm were sailing – it had been a great trip, capped off by rounding the Butt of Lewis and finally making it to Loch Roag. Twelve new anchorages or harbours had been visited, and the splendid cruising that is on offer to the west of the Outer Hebrides remains a magnetic draw. We will be back.

Sea of blue at Eigg and Rum

Andrew Thomson