Leaving Tarbert and off to Carradale Bay for the night, albeit a short one

There was an OK forecast to get around the Mull of Kintyre and so we decided it was time to go north. As we left Tarbert, a local man (Archie) who has photographed us before from his flat in the old Columba hotel building took a couple of great images of the boat underway. This one he posted onto Marine Traffic:

and this one he kindly emailed to us:

It was good that the crew had retrieved and stowed all the fenders before we passed his flat! The flybridge was a bit chilly so we were in the pilothouse but had some great views to enjoy:

By the way, that is real "great views" comment not a Trump style "great".  We had planned to head down to Carradale Bay, a handy anchorage before the Mull of Kintyre where we could overnight. A simple trip passing between the Kintyre peninsular and the Isle of Arran:

It was quite enjoyable too, bar the ugly fish farm ship hanging around in the entrance to Loch Fyne:

The fish farms and their support vessels all seem to be made as ugly as possible to defile the wonderfully beautiful lochs.  Here is an example:

We do wonder just how many jobs and how much tax income they generate in reality, despite the government hype and massive expansion of them by foreign companies.

We dropped the hook in around 8 metres of water (the tide was dropping so it would end up around 6 in depth) set the anchor watch alarm and chilled enjoying the views and sun:

As the seabed shelves very gently towards the shore, you do end up anchoring quite a long way off the beach itself and you have that feeling of space. The nearest yacht was not at all near:

You can see the depths on this bit of chart:

We ate, turned on the anchor light and went to bed early as we needed a very early start the next morning. Pesky tide timings again.

The Tarbert area by road and foot

We mentioned that we'd gone to Tarbert so we could be invaded. Well, it was not by rampaging Scots hordes wanting to avenge various historical battles. It was a much wanted and happy invasion by Sheila, Niall and Penny, the doglet.

They came over by car - not easy as the Portavadie to Tarbert ferry was being operated by a replacement vessel (cannot bring ourselves to call the ugly little old thing a ship) which only held 8 cars. To make sure they could get on, Niall waited for the prior sailing to depart, drive the car to the queue for the next one (an hour later), went home and had tea. Smart move.

They had, madly, offered to show us some of the local area by car, places we could not reach by Brompton bike or public transport too easily. We started in Kilmartin, proper history with cairns and standing stones in abundance:

Sheila bravely scrambled into the one cairn that you are allowed into and did a good impression of a happy prisoner:

Some of the standing stones were in the middle of a field housing sheep. Quite an odd experience, so much so that the crew and Niall could not agree which way had the best view:

A great area, steeped in history.  Apparently the cairns are between 3500 and 5000 years old. The area had a very tranquil feeling about it, with just the odd noise from the resident sheep. Look it up on the internet, well worth reading about.

After the little walk around the Kilmartin area, we were taken to be crowned / anointed. Here is where and how:

The crew was rather careful scrambling up the rocky path to the top of the hill. We passed a group of ladies who were having some sort of spiritual wellness camp and had decided that this monument would contribute to it. Frankly, some looked like they'd been relying on alcohol or syringes more than the great outdoors - their barefoot approach was probably best reserved for the local sheep not humans on ascents like that one.

Once she reached the appropriate spot, the crew duly placed her foot into the mark on the stone:

As you can see, the crew's coronation pose looked more like a ballet position than a regal stare to be honest. However, she has one foot firmly planted in the right spot. The captain followed on, placed his slightly larger hind paw in the stone and felt suitably regal. So much so that Niall had to close the car door for him before we headed back to the boat. 

The following day we stopped briefly alongside the Crinan canal en route to Tayvallich. The place is a good anchorage and a popular spot for visitors by boat but we've never ventured up to loch to try it out. As you can see, the local road signs have a sense of humour about then:

The "town" is more like a tiny village. It has a little shop with a café bit that was shut. Also a pub / hotel which opened at lunchtime and we frequented. Niall had the largest plate of Cullen Skink we'd ever seen. He manfully wound his way through it though. The only disappointment was that there were no discounts for local royalty and that the owner came from South America, not the local area. He so needed a proper local accent to blend in with the scenery.

The horseshoe shaped harbour area had plenty of  boats on moorings and a foot passenger ferry service across to the Isle of Jura:

We are now tempted to head up Loch Sween to wet the anchor and revisit the pub - maybe even trying the café if we can pick the day(s) it is open. 

Our final stop was to be shown the oldest castle in Scotland:

Accessing it was fun. There is a public car park which is a long way "up the hill" from the castle itself. Sheila and Niall knew this and said that the best thing to do is park in the Castle Sween holiday park, right next to the castle ruins. Clearly the park staff are not impressed with that. We parked, a "customer unfriendly" character came out to ask what we wanted and said that the shop (our excuse) was shut. He had no idea what we wanted, but would have driven off any prospective mobile home purchasers with his initial attitude and approach. A pity as the location of the park and views over the loch are stunning. How they get the large mobile homes down the single track road is beyond us.

We duly looked at one that was for sale, saw that the veneer was already peeling off the table in what was a brand new unit and decided to keep our money. In fairness, we've never seen a park as well maintained as this one, the ample grass areas were manicured, none of the units were scruffy, a beach and boat park for launching trailer based boats etc etc. If you want a mobile home and don't mind the long drive from any major areas of civilisation, this is a good place.

A gentle scramble up to the castle followed:

and the lovely view from it:

You can see that Niall was still taking his tour guide responsibilities most seriously, pointing out something of importance to the crew while Penny looked on wondering when she would get to play ball.

Our final stop was at the Crinan end of the Crinan canal. We needed coffee and cake first then a wander around the sea lock:

and a look at some rather good artwork in the Crinan hotel. A strange place - still has a food award from over 30 years ago on display, the building is rather faded / jaded but it gets great reviews for the food and service. The lady owner is a well know artist so one of the old bar / restaurant areas upstairs is used as a studio for other artists and a gallery for their work. We enjoyed the look around.

Back in Tarbert, Penny needed to check out the local wildlife before the visitors / tour guides headed home on the ferry:

They had been so kind, showing us areas and history that we would never manage ourselves. A great couple of days.

Alone again, we did the walk around the northern side of the harbour to the little beach area. It was sad to pass what was once a lovely house where we remember kids playing on the lawn and lots of activity:

The vegetation growing out of the walls suggests this might be terminal. A lovely setting, a real shame to see. After braving the little "forest like " bit, we enjoyed the beach and views:

A local came down to the beach with his dog and on the walk back through the trees he said that there must be an interesting animal around as he could smell musk. Later on we saw him getting into his van - he explained that the smell was actually from his dog who had rolled in something like fox poo. Lovely, we really didn't want him to offer us a lift.

On a rainy day we walked up to the Gather - a café come arts and crafts come tourist junk stuff shop and enjoyed  a most unusual cake - almond and lemon. We were told that the lady who baked it added the wrong essence to her lemon cake mix but decided to press on anyway. The result was fine, a bit different but fine.

We were very happy for Sheila and Niall when we saw that their usual ferry had returned to service and berthed opposite us for the night:

We still don't understand why they need to run the engines for at least 30 minutes before they head off in the mornings, not a great alarm call. The excitement of having the bigger ferry back was short lived though:

Back for a day and broken. It limped into the harbour and had plenty of folks wearing hard hats on board who vanished into the bowels of the now antique ferry - she is 50 years old which in commercial ship terms is pretty geriatric. 

Maintenance News:

It was time to replace the Seagull water filter cartridge. Empty out the cupboard, put down lots of towels and fit a new cartridge:

then put it all together again. A miracle then happened. Perhaps thanks to the higher pressure that we get through a new, unclogged filter, the tiny drip from the tap when it is opened had stopped.  Long may that continue.

The very very lovely Kyles of Bute and into Tarbert

We had waited for a nice day to head through one of our favourite areas inside the Firth of Clyde area. Yes, a very pretty trundle through the Kyles of Bute, around the top of the island of Bute. We left Rhu at a very civilised time and enjoyed a flybridge trip all the way. Why go to Tarbert? Well, that was to meet up with Sheila, Niall and Penny the doglet again. Also because Tarbert is a lovely little harbour.

The route is a bit zig-zag like:

It was rather nice to see some sun, blue sky and flags that were not extended to full stretch as we headed off:

You can see that Rhu marina isn't exactly full despite being a friendly place. The vast local gull population made the most of the empty pontoon space and our boat. Lots of bits of broken mussel shell and some delightfully large heaps of poo were left as mementos. We felt so blessed.

Heading down the estuary towards our first "right hand turn" we managed to avoid altering course for the busy Western Ferries who, for the first time in ages, managed to pass ahead of us in their rather striking red livery:

Not the prettiest of craft it must be admitted. Then the fast passenger ferry that goes across to Dunoon added to the fun:

The only disturbance it caused us was from its wake fortunately. 

Just before we "hung a right" at Toward point, this odd looking military thing was stooging around in a very strange manner, seemingly doing some navigation practice:

We'd learned a bit about these craft from the guys who service the Yanmar engines in them. Apparently the V8 diesels are so inaccessible that they have to physically remove the engine for even the most normal service work. A job that should take a half day or so actually needs three days instead as the helm area has to be dismantled, the engine separated from all the various cables and pipes and drive gear and then craned out into the workshop. Of course, we are paying for that appalling design via our taxes which makes us wonder who signed off the design and how they sleep at night.

Much prettier than that nautical Frankenstein thing is the Toward point lighthouse area:

After hanging that right (very nautical term indeed),  the scenery as you head into the Kyles proper gets better and better. It starts with this odd castle like place on the shore:

and then the Kyles of Bute open up (really the banks close in but the English phrase of open up is so descriptive and elegant) as the scenery just gets better and better:

We have to add that the railing on our flybridge screen is not at all bent nor did we take the picture when high on substances. Mr Samsung's panorama setting does give some mind altering perspectives for free. The weather was actually kinder and warmer than the image suggests - in fact we had our first trip of the season that was spent fully on the flybridge. The crew even complained about being too hot when the sun was avoiding the bimini cover and catching us directly. Yes, too hot in Scotland in June. Unheard of but rather nice really.

Lars and Birgit, on board their sparkly Azimut power boat Reboot were heading the other way , from Tarbert to Rhu (yes, we took it personally) which enabled a great photo opportunity. Here is their shiny craft in some of the dramatic scenery:

and now a better image of the boat and crew:

They reciprocated on the photo front:

and we reciprocated on the waving front too.  Great to get some pictures of the boats underway for a change. We passed the rather large ferry that does the tiny trip across to Bute from the mainland as it was loading up on the island:

and then threaded through the narrow channel at the Burnt Isles:

and down the other side of Bute, admiring Tighnabruaich on the way:

As you head further south you get to see the mountains on Arran peeping above the mainland in a semi-threatening way:

Entering Loch Fyne, we were just too late to wave at Robert and Deborah on their yacht who were heading around the isle of Arran to Lochranza. Apparently they saw us briefly but a Nordhavn is perhaps a little more distinctive than a white hulled yacht with white sails.

The little island near Portavadie has a very sad looking little light tower on it:

which is actually more upright than this picture suggests. Worrying as we'd only been drinking tea all day.  Entering Tarbert is always pretty:

and we happily berthed on the allocated hammerhead:

A lovely flybridge trip of just under 5 gentle hours underway. If only every voyage was like that one. We'd planned to spend 4 nights there as we had arranged a small but very welcome invasion. More to follow.

Maintenance News:

Not a lot really. The boat ran happily, the stern gland was dripping appropriately, the electronics did their lekky things properly and we didn't hit anything on the way. The tap that delivers nice filtered water had started to drip a bit through the seal when turned on though. A trick it had developed a while ago, then forgotten, but now seems to have remembered. We wish it had Alzheimer's.

Holy Loch to Rhu then a bit of Glasgow as well

We had one of "those" decisions to make. The forecast for the next 4 days or so was less than tempting. Rain and a fair amount of wind too. Should we hunker down in Holy Loch and maybe go big and take the bus into the gently decaying town of Dunoon from time to time to avoid a soaking doing it by foot? Or should we go over to Rhu, and do the same bus thing into Helensburgh  instead with the option of a train into Glasgow.  Or go and anchor up somewhere sheltered and listen to the rain and wind outside.

Well, the attractions of the big city plus the fact that Rhu berthing was for free (another Boatfolk marina) tempted us. We are so shallow. A quick decision was made during the morning, a quick prep for departure and a gentle little trip over to Rhu followed:

Not a terribly long one but enjoyable all the same. We'd been allocated a nice hammerhead berth, one that was better sheltered from the strong winds that were forecast for the next couple of days. We ambled into the marina, spun the boat around and nudged against the pontoon with a small army of folks watching from their yachts and gulls from the pontoons. It was a matter of pride not to use the thrusters whilst being observed of course - luckily that worked out.

In the office we had to pay the huge sum of £10 to cover 4 nights use of the shorepower. Even though it was only a 16 amps supply, the price still felt like a bargain to us. We had some washing to do after all.... The berthing master was one we recognised from before, very friendly and helpful. He recommended that we go to Dino's ice-cream parlour in Helensburgh. It felt a little chilly for that so after we had walked into town (40 minutes or so) we found a coffee instead. Dino's is still on our "got to try it sometime" list. Apparently it was part of a triumvirate of competing Italian ice-cream businesses who were linked by the local ferries. We really did not want to end up in the middle of a mafia backed ice-cream war. We were not tooled up or ready to die for a 2 scoop tub, no matter how good it might be.

The following day, after the ritual morning rain shower had abated, we ventured into the on-site café place. We'd been in before and had some good cake and chat with the owner. This time the coffee was less than average and the owner had turned from banter to full on grumpy mood. The place is off the list now:

Kind of a shame. The cake was still good.

We had one idea in mind, that was to revisit the restaurant in Glasgow that we rather like, Number 16 on Byers Road. So, we got the local bus into Helensburgh, the train to Glasgow Queen Street then hid in some shops until the rain eased up a bit. Yes, it was one of those typical summer days. We took the subway to Kelvinhall and then managed the 2 minute walk to the restaurant:

It nestles in an area full of take-aways (carry-outs for the Scottish readers and those of us that used to stay (=live) in Edinburgh many years ago). The building way undersells the food. The lunchtime deal was excellent, some great flavours and textures. We left slightly poorer but very very happy.

On a dry afternoon, we wanted to revisit Hill House, the very different Charles Rennie Mackintosh designed house in Upper Helensburgh. A bus into town, then a 30 minute slog up the hill on foot to reach the building clothed in the protective metal framework:

that is part of the National Trust's preservation work. When built it had a concrete render, a new approach in the early 1900's. Unfortunately, when the render cracked it just held the water against the brickwork and caused all sorts of leaks and damp problems inside the house. The render has been stripped off to let the place dry out:

and they are now investigating how best to re-cover in an original style but properly weatherproof. 

No matter, the inside is really something. He and his wife were part of the "Glasgow four" and very avant-garde for the time. They designed the building and the interior down to the smallest details:

with some very striking light fittings too:

Worth reading about Mackintosh via this wikipedia link. Also worth visiting Hill House as they do a mean line in coffee and scones to fortify you after the slog up the hill from town. Rolling back down was way easier somehow. 

Despite the best efforts of the wind and rain showers to disrupt our time in Rhu, we actually enjoyed it. We certainly got our £10 worth of electrical power, the washing machine and tumble dryer were busy catching up with things. We also had a first for us - a food delivery from Mr Morrison. It was way too soggy to cycle to the store, which is the other side of  Helensburgh, and bring back supplies. So, they did it for us. With that we were all prepared for moving on to locations without "proper big" supermarkets.