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.