Murray Blair Challenge Trophy – In search of the sun

In search of the sun around the Inner Hebrides

Eager Beaver Sadler 32 LOA 9.6 metres Crew Bill and Alison Logie Dates 12 – 24 July 2021

‘When a man grows old, and his bones grow old’ – to paraphrase a once familiar poem – he wants warmth. In the days running up to our departure on the 12 July the weather forecast led us to expect bright skies and modest winds in the north-west as far as Lewis, so we had some hope of pleasant days in the seas beyond Canna.

Ardfern to Tobermory

The signs were good; we left Ardfern in brilliant sunshine with a modest but fluctuating wind which gave us a couple of hours of beam and close reaching. Looking east we could see big nasty clouds over the land and thought how lucky we were to be heading offshore.

The target for the first day was Loch Don; the offshore breeze would make it sheltered and we had been fascinated by the bay having passed that way so often. However, progress was good, and by pressing on we would be able to make the tidal gate at Duart. That we did, but once round the point we met an adverse stream and a chillier head wind. We were able to make Ardtornish Bay by dinner time. We anchored beside two other yachts and relaxed in the warm cockpit with a glass of white wine.

Next morning mist hung over the Mull hills and a gentle breeze ruffled the wide open Sound of Mull. The anchor was up at 08:50 with a bit of mud and weed, and in open water we had a chilly light wind from ahead and the adverse tide to contend with. But progress was good as we did our best to avoid the worst of the stream on our way to Tobermory. There were few boats about. Seals kept an eye on us and the occasional porpoise passed our way. Midday in Tobermory and we had a good choice of mooring buoys – they are much calmer, brighter and with better views than the pontoons. In the afternoon we were ashore mingling with many other visitors comprising far fewer foreigners than one is used to in Tobermory. By evening all the mooring buoys were occupied and the pontoons seemed full.

The weather was fine but a bit chillier. The forecast of sun and light winds in the north-west, however, had now changed to cool, breezier, and misty. This was not what the crew had been promised, and the skipper didn’t fancy it either. So early aspirations were shelved and seeing that the weather on the mainland was so much warmer, we thought that we should not stray too far west. Perhaps the Western Isles would be a step too cold.

Tobermory to Arisaig via Loch Sunart and Muck

Wednesday morning was bright but cloudy and after a quick run ashore we cast off at 11:00 and had a delightful sail in a fresh and gusty SE wind across the sound to Loch Sunart. We felt our way into Sailean Mor in the north of Oronsay and laid our anchor in four metres. Arctic terns were our only company and they were very active screaming and plunging around us. A row around the inlet revealed no good landing spots, and a cursory search for mussels was fruitless, but that hardly detracted from the charm of this peaceful anchorage. As evening approached the overcast weather deteriorated into scotch mist and drizzle and again it put us in a quandary over our search for the sun.

We decided on making Muck our next destination so next morning, 15 July, we were up promptly to catch a favourable tide round Ardnamurchan. The chain and anchor came up with a lot of heavy mud and then we were on our way in fairly calm conditions and cloud cover that made one feel that the sun could burn it off and break through. But it never did. 

Sailean Mor, Muck

Tobermory was totally blanketed in mist. There was a little chilly wind from the south-west and soon we were able to sail and with a favourable tide made good progress. When the wind died we motor sailed for a while, but increasingly relied on the engine – the iron topsail. North of Ardnamurchan we met up with shearwaters and in the sea that was running they were able to show off their wonderful graceful flying skills over and around the swell gently rolling in from the west.

The stretch up round the east side of Muck seemed to take a long time, but in due time we were heading into Gallanach Bay – with great care. Having anchored, lunched and napped we went ashore and walked across to Port Mor. It is an active island, and on the way back we were surprised to get a good view of a poor little songbird feeding its gross cuckoo foster child. Two other boats were in when we got back.

During the night the wind, though not strong, was persistent, and in the morning there was thick chilly mist with visibility of about 200 yards. The forecast for the mainland was again far more appealing. When we could see 500 yards we decided to move on, to Arisaig, where conditions seemed to be better. Relying on dead reckoning and the sat-nav we made good progress with genoa set and a F4 south-westerly.

In the Arisaig Channel we could see where we were going and picked up our mooring buoy, with a handsome and strong pennant, far out from the pontoon. It was good to be in port, but a blocked toilet had to be sorted – messy but successful. Then we rested, getting pictures on our phones of a tropical sun from friends and family back home, while we sheltered from scotch mist and a chilly breeze. The next day we spent in Arisaig and still we saw no sun. The long run back to Eager Beaver in the dinghy was against a lively chop and it was difficult to balance haste with an acceptable level of spray.

Arisaig to Ardananish, Mull

Sunday 18 July and a determination to find some sun; it meant heading back south, so we set off for Loch Sunart. Great visibility but no cetaceans to be seen, well, an occasional porpoise. Shearwaters, however, were prolific in huge flocks.

Round Ardnamurchan and the light chilly air was now behind us and we began to feel warm. Into Glenmore, which was new to us and we felt our way to a suitable spot to drop the anchor in six metres or so between another couple of yachts. Delightful calm, but still overcast, and a great racket from flocks of Greylag and Canada geese on the foreshore.

So far we had not had much favourable wind so the engine had been well used, and with light winds now forecast it was gratifying to find that diesel consumption was low, just over a litre an hour, giving us comfort for the rest of our trip.

And next morning was indeed calm. At 09:15 we raised the anchor, no mud or weed, and set off for the west of Mull. The decision process: it was much warmer and to the east of Mull there was the sun we had been desperately seeking. But tides were less favourable, harbours would be busier and it would seem too much like home territory.

To the west there would be sun but lower temperatures, and it would include some well-favoured anchorages and a hint of distant waters. It seemed like a long haul to the top of Mull, motoring in overcast conditions but the tedium was broken by the sight of distant dolphins and then the close company of more of them as they looked and played around our boat and a neighbouring yacht.

It seemed like a long haul round to Cragaig on the south of Ulva, but though the wind was chilly we were becoming increasingly optimistic about the prospect of sun. Three yachts were anchored; happy children playing; a row round the bay.

The Paps from Oronsay – Colonsay

Craighouse

A cool wind tumbled down the hills in the night, and though pleasant, the anchorage did not measure up to some wonderful memories of earlier times, so we decided to move on. An overcast but bright morning, and a good sail over to the Sound of Iona with the sun steadily strengthening. Plenty of activity off Iona, and we followed the handsome old ketch Birthe Marie as it sailed with all canvas through the Steamer Passage south of Erraid.

We motor-sailed on to Ardalanish, fortunately finding it empty, and put the anchor down in time for a late lunch. The sun: warm and brilliant at last! The distant, only a mile, beach of Traigh Gheal beckoned and made a good trip for the tender, though the so-soft sand into which our feet sank to ankle depth was a surprise.

There was a magnificent picture of deep blue and turquoise blending into the gleaming sand. A couple of yachts anchored off. Back to Eager Beaver for dinner in the cockpit. Shorts and T-shirt at last.

Ardananish to Craighouse

Indeed we had found the sun, and the following day we made for Colonsay – or Oronsay. No wind, a flat reflective sea and bright sun, so we motored. As we approached the island a minke whale showed its long black profile, giving us a thrill, as such sightings always do.

In touch with friends on Colonsay and running a bit short of water, we went into Kiloran Bay and anchored, rowed ashore, chatted, and then carried our water bags up to their house, finding it rather further and more arduous than expected. But a lovely interlude, and comforting to know that we would be able to wash without worry.

We left around 14:30 and motored on down to Oronsay, joining a few other boats, and watching more arrive, including a very elegant inter-war motor cruiser and a contrasting modern large grey metallic job, 

supposedly a feature in a Bond movie, I suspect on the side of the baddies. Another beautiful calm evening, voices carrying across the water emphasising the intrinsic peace.

The next morning called for an early start to catch the last of the ebb though the Sound of Islay. A fine breeze from the north-west gave us a good sail for the first seven miles but it faded as we reached the gulf and a bit of the favourable stream. But, oh dear, the skipper had misjudged the turn of the tide and we were faced with a long haul against the first of the flood, and it seemed a long way.

Finally round the corner and up to Craighouse and finding the visitor moorings all removed, we found a spot as clear of weed as we could find and anchored in a few metres. Ashore we were able to buy some ice cream, but neither eating places could offer us dinner. As we found elsewhere, restaurants were fully booked, a measure perhaps of the extent of staycations. And many more yachts were around than I would have expected. Our walk on Jura, though pretty, was blighted by a plague of clegs – shorts were a mistake – but fly whisks from bracken fronds kept some at bay.

Craighouse to Ardfern

Friday 21 July was another stunning morning and even the powerful ferry RIBs seemed more muted. There was no rush on our part as we would wait for the favourable stream to help us north to Lussa Bay. The anchor was up at noon but it brought quite a lot of weed, together with the trip line which we had deployed in case mooring chains were still about.

The Sound of Jura was like a mill pond with not a ripple from coast to coast, and after logging 10 miles we eased our way into the bay beyond two other yachts, in five metres. The heat was now intense – 30° in the shade – and we sheltered in the cabin for a read and a nap. Later in the afternoon we rowed round the bay enjoying the cries of seagulls and oyster catchers and children on the beach.

As darkness fell the moon rose, its pink reflection sparkling and mingling with the cooler twinkle of an anchor light. Next morning we had time to go ashore and enjoy the serve-yourself Tea-on-the-Beach horse box café. Honesty box, delicious cakes, a great initiative by eight local teenage girls. Another sketch then back to the boat and the passage back to Ardfern.

Wildlife in the Sound of Jura included a conflict between a tern, a great black backed gull and a bonxie. It was hard to tell which came off best, but I suspect that the tern lost its lunch. Further on a young porpoise was close to our track and appeared to have been separated from its parents. They hovered about a short distance away, presumably a bit worried about our presence. We continued on, trusting that all would turn out well.

Of course once in port there was much to do and the washing, tidying and replenishing took some time, but we relaxed too, and reflected on another successful cruise. Perhaps we had not travelled as far as we had originally planned, but we had found the sun.

Bill Logie