Contender – A late season circumnavigation

Macleod’s Maidens During September I wanted to get back to Skye and visit some of the places I had missed getting to the year before. I had left September pretty clear to get away for most of the month, partly in order to gather some more information about the area west and north of Skye for the next revision of the Sailing Directions, Ardnamurchan to Cape Wrath.

A digression

I had already been round the Mull four times this year, and each time I learn something new. Earlier in the year, after already retiring from the windless Tobermory Race, Round the Mull option and we had spent four hours motionless off the east side of Holy Isle. And when my crew, CCC Dinghy Section sailor Alex Josifovic, leapt into the water and swam ahead to beat me, we decided to head south for the Mull into the evening, late for the tide round Kintyre. We had headed well south of Sanda to get what remaining tide we could, knowing that the slog north to Ardfern against the tide and with little wind would be slow. In the dark, the idea came to me that as we had retired, there was no reason not to stop and have some sleep. If we had been racing, or course, we would have carried on, but…

So, five miles or so south of Paterson’s Rock near Sanda, we decided that anchoring at Sanda for the rest of the night was an attractive idea. There’s a small anchorage on the south side near the lighthouse, room enough for only one boat, but that would do. But wait, as we approached there was an anchor light just visible in the fog against the beam of the lighthouse. So not being keen to squeeze into an untried, for me, anchorage in the dark and the fog, I thought we had better go in on the other side.

That meant either go west of Sanda and come back, or go east and round Sheep Island and into Sanda Bay. Wait, isn’t there an Antares chart for here? Sure enough, and it covers the reef between Sanda and Sheep. In the night, and a foggy night? Yes, let’s try that.

So in we went, feeling our way in between the rocks. The buoy off Paterson’s Rock is south of the rock, so we passed very close to see it. The sounder showed a shallow patch,15m south of Glunimore Island. So far, so good. Then there’s Black Rock, and a reef called The Reine, with a really shallow bit north of that, 0.9m. Then only the shallow patch, 0.4m just north of the anchorage to negotiate. I love my tiller. I can change course so quickly, and despite Contender’s longish keel, the shallow draft of 1.4m has advantages. We made it. So that was another geography lesson about the Mull of Kintyre.

Up next morning at 04:15 and away north on the tide. We had not advised the other two boats we had retired, and eventually saw their AIS ahead of us. Apparently they were quite concerned that we, with 15 points of CYCA handicap more than them, might close on them when they had battled the lack of wind all the way. One retired, but one slogged on to the end and was the only one of three entries in that option to complete the course. But back to the main story. 

The passage north to Skye

Fifth time round the Mull, this time crew Stewart Owen and me, heading for Skye. We’d left Gourock on Friday night, 3 September, and sailed into the dark to Lamlash and anchored near the moorings. I have learned my lesson about anchoring near fish farms. If they have seal scarers, there is no sleeping. An easy 09:30 start next morning, knowing that we would easily reach Sanda for the next morning’s tide at 07:30. So a quiet night in Sanda – the third time there this year, and away next morning, sailing in a favourable wind which we carried all the way to Carsaig. Pulling into that bay in heavy rain, and by that time little wind, we anchored in one of the southside inlets and were soon asleep.

Stewart had missed some of the West Coast delights in his sailing out of Dallens Bay area, so we went through Cuan Sound, Easdale Sound at low tide, and onwards to Tobermory.

The next day, Tuesday, we departed Tobermory, with some shopping done and a full water tank, we headed past Ardnamurchan for Loch Ailort. I had been in here last year to check out the access, and found it quite restricted by mussel ropes. Bob Bradfield had surveyed it, and noted the shallows between the outer and inner parts of this less frequented loch.

This year we found it even worse. Dodging between two drying rocks east of the little island is one option, as the narrow channel is blocked by a mussel farm. The other option is to go over the sandbar to the west side of Eilean nam Bairneach. Bob had recorded a depth of 1.8m here. By my reckoning, it is possibly shallower now, and given the sandy nature of the bottom and the rather swift tides, that might be quite possible. So how should we word that in the Directions? ‘Pass between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea’, or ‘sail carefully between a rock and a hard place’?

But Ailort wasn’t our main target, so we anchored in the outer loch capturing a beautiful sunset west of Eilean nan Gobhar. A couple arrived in a small motorboat for a BBQ on the beach, leaving the interesting imagery of some skinny dipping in silhouette.

Loch Scavaig

On Wednesday 8 September in the morning we left for Skye, and headed for Loch Scavaig. Having sailed past here a few times, it was good to get to go in and explore. We went into Loch na Cuilce, the small, shallow inner loch frequented by tourist boats dropping off visitors to see the freshwater Loch Coruisk, a short walk ashore. There were four boats at anchor with all the best spots had been taken.

Eilean nan Gobhar at sunset

Here came my first mistake. I usually anchor on the premise that it might be calm now, but who knows what will happen overnight? But here, crammed into the loch between a yacht occupying the best spot and the rock at the entrance, we anchored dropping the hook onto what looked like sand, but with a much shorter scope than normal. At about 00:30 the wind was roaring off the hills, and it was pitch black. Just off our stern I was sure that the rock had moved closer to us and we were moving towards it. The dinghy was afloat astern, brushing the kelp on the rock.

Start the engine, turn on some lights, hastily weigh the anchor and get out of there. We then managed to wrap the dinghy painter round the anchor chain of the next boat, so ended up alongside them, waking them from a peaceful sleep. The only thing to do was tie the dinghy to them, leave it and move on out. By this time our commotion had woken them, and anyone else within a mile. ‘We’ll pick up our dinghy tomorrow’, I shouted over the wind, hoping they would forgive us for getting them out of their bunks. We towed the best part of a tonne of kelp out of the inner loch to the outer area and lowered our cleaned anchor into about 4m. But 4m of what? Who knew?

It was kelp again, thicker than before. Having left the plotter running I checked our position a few times during the night and noted that we had probably harvested another tonne of kelp. We had, and it took forever to clean it. Our dinghy custodians passed out of the entrance and handed over our dinghy across.

Onwards round the north of Skye

After that rather disturbed sleep, we left in pelting rain for parts north and west, passing north of Soay, sailing with reduced sail to match the gusts of 30 knots.

By Loch Brittle and Loch Eynort the rain eased, and the wind with it, to leave us sailing nicely to Loch Harport. Firstly, we went into that loch to Carbost. I had the name of someone from the pier company. There were supposed to be moorings and pontoons here, but it wasn’t obvious. And that’s what we were here for. The Sailing Directions (2017, second edition) speak of visitors’ moorings near the Old Inn. They had gone, but there are some others nearer the pier. So we sought out the man who knows and got all the details.

It seems that they laid eight moorings, for visitors, but local pressure changed these to local ownership, leaving only the pontoon for visitors. Then a storm in February blew that onto the shore, so that was out too. Plans are afoot for another six moorings of which two will be for visitors. The pontoon was due to be repaired and the next plan is for a breakwater. But what should we write for the third edition? The current situation, the likely achievements by next summer, or the plans for which funding isn’t yet sure. That is for the editorial team to decide and of course another storm might change this anchorage, or another so easily. 

The next day, departing Carbost, we headed out to explore the rest of Loch Harport and into Loch Bracadale. In the afternoon we past the famous Macleod’s Maidens, and on to Neist Point lighthouse, then to Loch Pooltiel – not much to see here, folks – keep moving along... and we ended up that night in Loch Dunvegan. This is a popular stop for sailors, though there are fewer about at this time of year. The SDs list visitor moorings, and payment to the hotel. All changed, now pay on-line, increasingly common, now that we’re all more internet-‘savvy’ due to social distancing. But their website says the inner trot is unsafe. And it looked it. Great chunks of rope were floating about near it. So we went to the outer trot and went ashore.

Among many things to see in Dunvegan is a unique greengrocer. An old battered, rusty, corrugated, iron shed, with a tiny unobtrusive sign. But inside? A huge selection of exotic and local produce. Not what you’d expect to find in a village on an island. Dirty tatties are more expensive than washed ones I noted, but perhaps there’s value in that good soil? Isay Island shelters a nice small anchorage too. We didn’t stop but went in there to see. There’s a sizeable, abandoned village on this tiny island. Must have been a busy place once upon a time.

Friday saw us off northwards and round Waternish Point and over to the Ascrib Islands. On a sunny day these look as if they’d be idyllic. But in a F4 rain squall, they didn’t seem that great. We sailed past and on into Loch Greshornish, one of the inlets at the end of Loch Snizort. There are moorings in Greshornish, near the big house, but none for visitors. In fact that bay is busy enough that anchoring there doesn’t look practical, but further up the loch there’s a huge area that is really great. Good holding in plenty of mud, and shelter from all around. We anchored off the caravan park in 5m, within sight of the mobile mast that ensured we had a 4G signal and could catch up on some news.

Saturday 11 September saw us move out of Greshornish and into Loch Snizort Beag. A similar place, but plenty of anchoring space, though less protected in a northerly.

Just north of here is Uig, and while there’s not a lot of space for anchoring, the pier would be good for a short stop with a fender board. We watched the ferry come in and swing really widely. This reinforces the view that anchoring here, unless in very shallow water, would risk being in the ferry route. We proceeded out and on north to Duntulm Bay. This attractive anchorage, sheltered by an island across a wide bay, has one disadvantage, a tidal flow. But the visible clean bottom of sand promised good holding and so it was.

Abandoned village on Isay Island

The east coast

Sunday carried a forecast of more wind, and from the south, so we decided to go round Rubha Hunish and south along the east coast. Sailing out to the various islands and rocks off this point was interesting; Fladda, Comet Rock, Lord Macdonald’s Table, and Trodday with its light. This route is the recommended shipping lane northbound, and it is not hard to see how that freighter ran aground a year or so back. Take your eye off the course for a while and you soon check your vessel’s draft.

We had a great sail south to Portree, and looked into the various bays on the way. Other than Staffin Bay, it would be better to go to Rona or Raasay to stop, but we carried on to Portree to check out what were unusable moorings last year. They had now been serviced, but the pickup buoys are poor. Perhaps they are fishing floats on a 1m long string? They don’t pick up a mooring junk, are just tied to the main buoy, so are quite useless. The moorings for visitors are the furthest from town, so we had a long

dinghy trip to the Co-op. Sometimes I wonder if those responsible don’t think of making it easy for visitors to spend money locally?

On Monday we sailed from Portree to Mallaig. Now here we have an opposite example – lots of obvious effort to encourage visitors. The harbourmaster keeps his own boat here, perhaps that helps, but the proximity to the railway, good shops, fantastic amenities, and the best artisan bakery for many miles, along with more mundane things like a boatyard that can fix anything, services galore and really friendly people make Mallaig one of my favourite stops. A load of washing, cheaper than many, showers, fresh bread, some delightful almond croissants and some diesel.

Ah, the diesel. That’s perhaps the only niggle about this place. Diesel available at two places. One is the fisherman’s wharf, where a tanker size nozzle, and a head of about 5 metres ensures that there might be more outside the tank than in it. And the alternative is not to take to the garage, but next door to the chandler’s yard, where a red diesel tank awaits those hardy enough to wheel their barrels that far. It’s cheap though, almost as good as that from Lochboisdale. Seriously, I can’t get red diesel that cheap anywhere on the Clyde.

The homeward leg

Wednesday saw us start on our way home: we started covering more ground, sailing longer days, getting further, stopping almost nowhere. We anchored for the second time this year at the Doirlinn near Tobermory, as well as twice in Tobermory Bay, but we had to go the long way round to get out at low tide. That wreck in this anchorage is a pest, but some kind soul has a small buoy right on where Antares Charts says it rests.

I have a love-hate relationship with the canal. It certainly is scenic, and to be recommended to anyone that hasn’t used it but I’m a bit weary of it. It didn’t help that I had written alternative words to Macphail’s ‘The Crinan Canal for me’, which were printed in our yearbook and resulted in an interesting conversation when I met the then CEO of Scottish Canals.

The Mull of Kintyre for me. We noted the shortened hours due to water shortage, but anchored off on Thursday night and did the on-line booking, thinking we ought to use the canal at least once a year. If none of us used it, it would surely silt up and become like the Monklands Canal. Next morning, putting the fenders out, rigging my customary blocks and lines, we were all ready to go when the phone rang. Canal here, we’re sorry but the canal is closed for a week due to a lack of water. Oh well, a new second verse, ‘The Mull of Kintyre for me’.

On Friday morning we started off south against the tide and what wind there was, headed for Gigha. Ardminish Bay was a bit busier with five boats enjoying a beautiful sunset. One was a large motor cruiser that we later caught up with in Lamlash Bay.

It was a pretty uneventful trip back, but some nice sailing all the same. We sailed 13 hours to Lamlash Bay, arriving in the dark. The leg from Sanda to Pladda seems to be one of extremes to me. Either it is blowing a hooley and the passage is a sleigh ride, or there is no wind, and a boring motor. But this time was different. A nice reach in winds of F2-3 from somewhere south, we saw a minke whale, our second this year, and a Dutch warship with almost no lights visible except its navigation ones. In fact between Sanda and Gourock we passed military ships from all over, seemingly in Scotland for some NATO exercise. Nothing like a welcome home from a flotilla of warships and submarines on the Clyde.

So just under three weeks, 534 miles on the log, Skye circumnavigated, a few other places visited and a thoroughly enjoyable time to close the season out. Where to next year?

Geoff Crowley

The chart of Sanda Roads is reproduced with the permission of Antares Charts

Duntulm Bay near sunset