Tarbert to Port Bannatyne

After the fun of Tarbert, we looked at the incoming strong southerly winds and wondered about our next port of call. Some of the nice anchorages would be no fun in the wind and rain. We opted for a spot well sheltered from the south and a favourite of ours, Port Bannatyne. There is only one berth that we can guarantee getting into owing to our girth (the hammerhead of the pontoon right by the entrance) and when we called them to check they said that they would reserve it for us. Job done, so we thought.

There was no huge rush to leave Tarbert but we were looking forward to the stunningly beautiful trip around the Kyles of Bute sitting on the flybridge as the weather looked good enough - not warm or sunny but gentle winds.

The route is way prettier than this suggests:

Around Tighnabruaich, we saw a recently ressurected classic - the oldest seagoing paddle steamer still in operation, the Waverley. She recently had major (expensive) work to replace her boilers. Yes, still steam driven. It was great to see her out and with happy passengers on board again as she headed into the pier:

The area around the Burnt Isles (at the top end of Bute, where we hung a right turn on the track above) is a personal favourite. A little sun peeped through too just to help with our general feeling of contentment. Then it hid itself again just before we could get a picture:

At least it was not windy:

2.6 knots true wind speed made flybridge life rather pleasant.

As we approached Port Bannatyne, the big Lugger got a nice long WOT (wide open throttle) run and the crew prepared the lines and fenders. The Ardmaleish boatyard looks a scruffy mess:

Kind of a last resting place for old ships, cars, vans and assorted bits of equipment but they have nice new sheds, a nice new lift and always seem busy - lots of winter service work for Calmac ferries too.

Then we saw that there was a motor cruiser on the berth we had been given. It is tricky calling them on the radio from the flybridge as they use channel 37, not the normal 80. Our nice Icom radios do not have 37 so we would need to use the handheld radio which was in the energency grab bag in the pilothouse. So, we resorted to the mobile phone. Apparently the boat on the berth was someone who should have been leaving but seemed rather slow to do so. We drifted around a little whilst the nice marina lady shooed them away. Visions of the English south coast places where if you stay a minute after midday they come chasing you for more money sprang to mind.....

We happily cuddled up to the little hammerhead and chatted to the local bertholders. A Nordhavn seems to help you make friends no matter where you go. The old message about "it is a small world" was so true. We bumped into a couple who had looked at several Nordhavn boats before buying their yacht. They had also kept a Princess 35 called Soma Haze in Hythe marina, where our house is. We knew the people they bought the boat from - we were berthed with the prior owners in Bray Marina on the Thames and then together in Hythe. There were several stories to share . Marion - if you read this, please get in touch.

Campbeltown to Tarbert

We planned to leave Campbeltown before the rain that was forecast started. We almost managed it.

It was a nice quiet departure with little wind and actually way less rain than the nice Met Office folks had promised. As we were being closely watched, we left the berth without touching the thrusters and turned in the harbour area. We had to show the onlookers that lardy old Nordhavn's handle properly.

Sorry to say but very few pictures for you as it was a bit grey and gloomy heading up alongside Arran. The route is below for you:

The first few miles were busy - dodging pot markers which were plentiful and sometimes large enough to see properly. The little ones with lots of green goo growing on them made pot spotting such fun.

As we headed up alongside Arran, we passed the fish farm area which was destroyed in the recent storms, see BBC report. We cannot imagine how the lice infested fish that escaped will get on breeding with the proper wild ones. As for the dead ones... The tidy up operation involved several vessels which we saw on the AIS although this is a rather poor picture of the screens:

The whole business of fish farming has been moaned about in here before so we will not go through the same complaints again. Grim in the extreme.

As we headed further north, so it got more and more threatening:

and then it rained. Lots. Particularly heavily as we entered Tarbert harbour and needed to be outside to tie the boat up. It does seem that Autumn has arrived.

After the deluge, we happily trotted out to the local shops and for a wander around the harbour area. Whilst the crew was enjoying the little Co-op and their traffic light entry system, the captain admired the approach taken by the tiny local butcher's shop:

If only it was legal.

Wandering around the bay we saw a sad looking Ocean 37 that had been dragged up a sad looking slipway:

How times change - when we had a little Seamaster 813 and then a Broom 30 based on the Thames we used to covet the bigger Broom boats. Folks with one of those really were in the lap of luxury (apart from the rather copious volumes of smoke the old Perkins engines chucked out after a while running at river speeds).

We always have loved the harbour area here:

and the views over the loch:

even at low tide:

(By the way, the buildings are not drunk, it is just a panoramic shot)

Saturday was fun, Sheila and Niall who have a house on the other side of the loch at Portavadie came over by ferry:

and we enjoyed a socially distanced lunch together and a catch up. Penny the dog seemed quite at home too:

and happy to hoover up anything on offer:

The captain was happy as his birthday present tally was doubled. Sheila and Niall kindly brought along some gin (he has no idea why people think he likes gin) and a wonderful painting of penguins (naturally), produced and signed by the very talented Sheila:

Patrick was sniffy about them, something about "they are not as cuddly as I am". Clearly he has a top penguin complex.

Some rambling thoughts: Having been in Wales, then England, then Northern Ireland and now Scotland the strange sitaution we have with different Covid rules in each county thanks to the devolved powers seemed to make no sense at all. e.g. Mask wearing was pretty well observed in England and Scotland, the Northern Irish folks were learning about it rather slowly after a recent introduction and the Welsh didn't have to. Who could meet up with whom, in what numbers and where was totally ignored by the folks we saw or totally misunderstood (OK, if we are feeling charitable that might be the cause). Bottom line is that the UK seems to need clear, universal, simple, enforced rules that can be enhanced by localised tighter measures if needed. Fat chance....

Campbeltowning

Once the nice gale had blown through (oh boy, were we pleased that we were not on the exposed bit of the pontoon having watched a yacht in real trouble there) we refitted the bimini cover so the boat looked more normal again:

She also had her first decent wash off since Whitehaven - much needed as the recent rainy weather had deposited all sorts of grot and grime on what was nice clean and shiny GRP. That amused us for most of a morning.

After the obligatory shopping trip (cannot carry too much back each trip as we haven't bothered to get the folding bikes out and the captain still steadfastly refuses to be seen with a trolley shopper despite his advanced age) we had a wander around the loch. Here is Davaar island seen from the northern loch shore.  It must be the end of the season as you can see the purple heather on the hills:

The vista around the loch gives you an idea of how the area looks - there are many bigger hills but a panorama shot can only go so far:

The town itself continues to look sad with the usual quota of closed or should be closed shops. The high spots are the Tesco Metro and the big Co-op. We didn't try out any of the restaurant / coffee places as outdoor seating in a gale and driving rain is not ideal and indoor is still not tempting us. However out of town there are magnificent houses, the lovely loch and the welcome from Callum the moorings man is always excellent.

We enjoyed watching the local wildlife. This time not all two legged. As usual the resident seals like the return of the fishing boats when they get a free feed. Some young guillemots and razorbills were stunning to watch as they dived, swam underwater and feasted on a big shoal of little herrings, known as sild. No pictures from us, sorry. We just enjoyed the spectacle. Almost as much as the birds enjoyed the feeding frenzy we guess. However, some nice folks on the yacht next to us had an underwater camera. Look at you tube video link  around 5:45 minutes in.

When the wind abated we had the tough decision of where next. Should we go further north and enjoy the area a little risking getting locked down in a second Covid wave? Should we scuttle as fast as we could back to Penarth and impose our own early version of lockdown? Somehow as it still was not the end of August and we hadn't headed off until late in July, staying out a bit longer won.

Bangor to Campbeltown

There was a nice weather window but that did not sit kindly with the best tide times for a trip to Campbeltown. Such is life.

So, we got up around 3:45am and after a reviving mug of tea headed out to sea. The FLIR was busy spotting marker buoys off Bangor. Spotting the many anchored ships was easier:

They have some chunky generators it seems.

There was a beautiful sunrise to enjoy (well, the captain did, the crew was snoozing):

although the old maxim of "red sky in the morning, sailors take warning" applies. Well, it does for tomorrow when the forecast is for more windy stuff coming through:

Luckily our trip was planned to take around 8 hours and we would be somewhere sheltered before the gales kick off again.

Another simple enough route to follow with few waypoints needed or things to dodge bar pot markers and other shipping:

As the wind was sort of from the NW, it was bumpiest in the middle of the north channel where there was no shelter from the land. Also because it was wind over tide - we left to take advantage of the north going tide and tried to time is so we would also pick up a fair tide once close to the Mull of Kintyre /  Sanda island and carry that up to Campbeltown.

The crew had called Callum, the most helpful and friendly moorings man there and was assured there would be some space for us. In fact we saw some of the exodus of boats from the loch as we approached.

Island Davaar is the iconic entrance to the loch and has a cute lighthouse on it that we have pictured once before. No matter, here it is again in perfect conditions. Calm and sunny:

and it all looked very freshly painted too.

We were very lucky with our timing when we arrived. The orientation of the harbour in Campbeltown means that the end of the pontoon area and the anchorage is very exposed to easterly winds. The forecast had SE'ly gales in it. The long pontoon area was pretty empty so we could head further down to get some shelter from the harbour wall when berthing - here is the view from the aft cockpit:

We ended up reassuringly opposite the lifeboat too:

As always, Callum and his helper came to take the lines - not needed but a nice touch. We learned about the out of commission moorings in the harbour (the sailing club didn't arrange to service them this year) and some more of the other local fun and politics.

Since we fully expect to be trapped on board tomorrow, we wandered to Tesco for provisions and the captain sat outside on a little bench waiting for the re-emergence of the crew. A Tesco worker plonked himself on the other end of the bench - well under 1 metre away, told the captain that he was "not going into the store until he had to start his shift as he wasn't giving Tesco any of his xxxxx time" and proceeded to light up a cigarette. Looks like Campbeltown is ready to join Neyland as the next Covid outbreak place.

Maintenance news: - none, sorry. We know how you love and must miss the stories of oily bits and socket sets. The wing engine had a run as we approached Campbeltown and the stuffing box was dripping nicely so no more tinkering needed there for a while, we hope.

Windswept in Bangor

You saw what was coming from the last post. Guess what - it arrived. We had a plethora of lines to keep us attached to the pontoon whilst the wind tried its best to take us over to the breakwater. The lines won, fortunately.

We occupied ourselves by hiding inside the boat and waiting until the wind and rain had died down. That took about 36 hours though and lasted into the captain's big birthday. It did not dampen things though, and we managed to walk to an excellent dinner with Ken, Debbie and Annika at the rather splendid royal Ulster Yacht club. You might have seen pictures of it in here before but just in case:





The clubhouse is just beautiful inside and out. The food was very very good too as was the company. We even had a bottle of fizz delivered to the table courtesy of Tina, the Isle of Wight resident, who had sneakily arranged it. The Captain looked suitably happy even before drinking it:

Just a bit wrinkly - must be an age thing. Debbie is most artistic, some of her pottery has starred in prior blog posts and she had produced a lovely birthday card showing the lighthouse at the entrance to Belfast Lough:

so all in all not a bad day. For more information on the lighthouse have a look at   Wikipedia entry

The rain was drying up and the wind dropping so we did manage to vernture out, as far as the delights of Asda and the captain did a little maintenance. The hose clips on the new fresh water pump needed tightening to stop a weep (stressful job) and we found that our trip across from England had cost more than we thought:

A blown bulb from the 24v engine room lights. Ouch.

Although the wind was stopping, the rain was determined to keep us company. so nice of it. Between the heavy showers we did manage a quick shopping run for food and to say hi to other folks we know here. A most sociable place. Plan A was to head to North Wales and hang out in Conwy for a while and explore that area. Only Conwy was full. Looks like we need to head up into Nicolaland for a while and risk the wrath of any rabid SNP supporters who think that we will be importing covid or bad English habits. This was the welcome at Glasgow central station a while ago:

Maybe Campbeltown will be friendlier - if there is any space for us that is.

Chilling in Bangor

As we've said before, Bangor feels like a second home somehow. Even more so this year as we saw the boats belonging to folks we know arriving back into the marina. Here is Keith's yacht Scotia:

Keith and Ingrid seem very focussed on Bailey the dog who takes all the attention in a very relaxed way:

Ken wanted to turn his Hardy around on her berth but decided that he might as well go for a little run out to sea as well:

A good job that the sun was not out or the shine from the hull would have blinded the camera. One sparkly boat.

The crew got heavily into baking mode. Ginger loaf, then granary bread:

I have a feeling that if we stay here too long we will not be able to walk very far.

Sitting in the saloon, admiring the rain running down the windows, we spotted the local IRB bringing in a yacht and dropping her onto the berth astern of us:

Then we learned that the yacht is owned by the lifeboat coxswain. We do hope that it was a training exercise or he might never live down the humiliation. Perhaps there is something going on here as the following night, we witnessed the marina workboat towing another yacht to her berth from the harbour entrance:

Wonder if there is a "Bangor triangle" for boat engines around here. Or someone selling dodgy diesel? (Actually that happened in the marina a while ago but we will not spill any beans.....) 

We unknowingly took advantage of the government "eat out to help out" by having an outside coffee at Cafe Brazilia with George, another boat owner, which was most pleasant and ended up as quite a bargain too. Thank you Mr Sunak. Raiding Asda for some essentials was instructive and worrying. The "wear a mask in shops" rule had only recently been introduced in Northern Ireland and folks seemed to be struggling with it. Big time. The concept of covering the nose as well as the mouth seems too hard. For some folks even wearing a mask seemed too hard. No wonder the R rate here is heading north far too rapidly for comfort.

You haven't heard from our pesky crewmember Patrick the penguin recently. Well, this time he seems to have excelled himself. Colin the ex BA captain, ex Lighting fighter pilot, ex RN helicopter pilot and fellow Nordhavn owner sent us this:

Sure enough Partick looked very crestfallen when he was returned to the boat. Martin (another Nordhavn proper chap whom you have met via these ramblings before) commented on how lucky Patrick was, saying that if he had gone walkabout in the USA the cops would probably have shot him. Only the black bits mind you.

One thing that really impressed us about Bangor was the focus on hand sanitising. It even extended to the pontoon mounted taps:

Shame that the local townsfolk seem less aware of the risks.

Why did we stay chilling here? Well, this forecast wind strength had something to do with it:

You can figure out that red is not good. The wave heights looked equally unappealing:

Red means 6 metres plus by the way. Not tempting at all. For folks who like words not pictures:

So, we rigged extra fenders and mooring lines, raided the shop for food and hunkered down to ride out the storm. OK, it is officially a severe gale, we exaggerate a teeny bit by saying storm.

Whitehaven to Bangor

After being splashed again, we spent a happy few days afloat in Whitehaven, enjoying the sun, one huge thunderstorm (a hole was blown in the roof of a house a quarter of a mile away) and general sloth after a busy weekend:

As all good things muct come to an end and we were fed up cleaning huge piles of nasty black seagull poo off the boat each day, we decided to move on to Bangor in Northern Ireland. There was a persistent NE'ly wind that was pretty strong and so we opted to stay until most of it had blown through. The forecast for Thursday had lots of F6 in it and some chunky waves but for Friday it would slowly calm down, meaning a bumpy start to the trip with waves around 2 metres on the stern quarter which would then die down as we get closer to Ireland. Departure time was to be around high water which was, unfortunately, just before 7am. At least it was sunny as we headed out:

The strange and scruffy looking observation thing is closed - loooks like a part of the Whitehaven regeneration money that was well spent by the local council. The lock infrastructure was a way better investment and we sneaked through on free flow - only just,  as owing to the neap tides there was not much depth in the marina itself:

The route to Bangor is pretty simple until you get to the Copelands (the little islands off the coast) which we opted to head inside of rather than around, knowing that we should get there before the tide turned against us too much - it runs rather hard through there:

You can see that we get pretty close to the Mull of Galloway too, timing that to have a fair tide was important and we happily saw just over 9 knots across the ground (2.5 knots of help), We ran faster than normal (1650 rpm) to take best advantage of the tides which worked well.

Since we were close(ish) to the Mull, the obligatory lighthouse pic was taken:

There was no other traffic about, one Stena ferry in the distance and nothing else apart from one pot marker to make us divert until a yacht arived at the buoy to the north of Ballymacormick point at the same time as us. He was motorsailing and should have given way according to the rules but in the style of some irritating yotties, because he had a flappy thing up in the air he expected us to divert.

When you see this buoy you know that Bangor is pretty close and it is time to give the main engine a burn and think about fenders and lines:

When we radioed the marina we were delighted to be given a hammerhead berth. Even more delighted that it was one previously occupied by a Nordhavn 76 owned by a local guy (she was in our blog many years ago, we met in Craobh) so it had much better cleats than the normal ones and also a 32 amp power supply.  Happy days. Sitting on the flybridge enjoying the evening sun and view was a fitting end to the trip:

Maintenance news - not a lot - the wing engine stuffing box might need easing off a bit - it hasn't dripped as much as it should since the relaunch. The big Lugger just kept going. We had one tough job - in a particularly bumpy bit the double sided tape that holds the pelmet above one of the pilothouse window blinds decided to fall off. You will be relieved to know that this major structural item has been reattached now: