Stornoway to Loch Shieldaig (via the Shiants and Skye!)

Leaving the harbour in Stornoway was simple enough thanks to a good dollop of thruster use to push us sideways off the walkway against the wind. Pottering out of the harbour felt a bit like leaving home somehow, after two excellent weeks there. The plan was to head down to the Shiant islands which are great bird sanctuaries (although troubled by rats who like to eat eggs / young puffins etc) and then on to an anchorage off Skye called Duntulm Bay. Morris, the local expert master mariner chap said that it was a great spot from which to admire the sun go down over the Hebrides. We were not sure about a stunning sunset treat though as it was a bit grey and cloudy when we headed off.

It was a very gentle run down the coast of Lewis / Harris and on towards the Shiants. As we watched them appear, so a few puffins came into view on the water amusing us with their usual antics (which we guess the puffins just view as perfectly normal taking off and landing). Patrick was watching thses islands very intently, perhaps hoping for a penguin or two to hove into view:

He was to be disappointed though. We think that his domestication has caused him to forget the kind of conditions that his type of penguin normally lives in. Perhaps we will have to stick him in the freezer for a while – unless anyone has a better idea?

Around the islands we were treated to a wonderful panorama that photographs cannot do justice to:

Sheer cliff faces with birds somehow nesting on them. Puffins, cormorants, gannets etc etc flying around (sadly no sea eagles were visible). Rocky outcrops and the odd hopeful seal too. Not as many birds as we have seen around Skomer but still quite something. As we had set off late(ish) there was not really time to anchor for lunch in the one area that you can use for a temporary stop (not safe for overnight mooring) so we headed down to Skye and into Duntulm Bay. All alone, we happily anchored in the best spot according to the pilot book and sat admiring the views:

Nicely sheltered from the both forecast and actual NE’ly  force 4, the sun came out and we were happy bunnies. Of course, such an idyllic moment had to be broken by the arrival of a yacht who chose to anchor quite close to us. Then our anchor decided to drag a little so, it was out, disconnect the snubber, fire up the engine, move a little bit further from the pesky yacht and drop the hook again. It had a good hold so back inside for dinner and to enjoy the evening sun and views – perhaps there was going to be a sunset after all!

Instead, the anchor chose to drag a little again. More chain didn’t help – of course the amount of chain was limited by the yacht who had anchored close to us but we already had much more than the normal 4 times the depth. We could not move that far away from Mr Yacht as we would not have enough swinging room between the shore and the rocky island offshore that was sheltering us. The tide there tends to hold you across the wind and that means lots of swinging around. OK, third attempt. The anchor dug in nicely and resisted the pull of the main engine working away in reverse. Surely we haven’t picked a patch of kelp / weed this time? All seemed well until around 9pm when guess what, we slowly started to move again.

Our previously very trusty Delta anchor, which has held us most happily on the south coast of England in vicious tides, around Wales etc seemed to dislike the Scottish kelpy / sandy conditions this year:

Perhaps we need to invest in a Rocna or similar. Ouch, they are eye wateringly expensive but very pretty engineering:

Decision time - do we keep playing this game all night or move on. If we move, where to? The Dunvegan Castle anchorage was close but not close enough to reach before it got as dark as it gets here during June. Entering a new unknown area at night that has moorings and probably several pot markers did not excite us too much. An alternative was a longer run across to Loch Shieldaig where we had used one of the heavy duty mooring buoys before. If they were busy, we knew the area to anchor in and it would be getting light (2:30 am is “getting light” here!) as we arrived to help us avoid the many pot markers. Decision made. So, engine on and head off.

Around the top of Skye it was bumpy as the wind was over the tide which runs fast around the headlands. Naturally, the fog then descended so no pictures for you of nice sunsets or a mean and moody looking Isle of Skye. Then it was just a 5 foot or so wave train on the port bow for the run across to the mainland which of course calmed down as we got into the lee of the land.  Entering Gairloch, the crew bravely stood on the foredeck as pot spotter and did an excellent job issuing avoidance instructions over our radio headsets whilst the captain stayed inside in the warm midge free environment. He needed to look at the equipment in there of course. Then to add to the fun, the crew's radio headset went flat so we had to resort to hand signals and some door open shouts. The midge free environment was at risk suddenly....

Although all three of the big 80 ton buoys were free, one had still got the ton and a half of monster hawser attached to it and having wrestled with that on our last visit, we were not keen:

Quite a navigation hazard at night too if you were not expecting it! Not sure how the average rope cutter would fare against that line.....

Another one of the three buoys one had no pick up buoy / line attached and so we went for the most easterly mooring that offered a pick up buoy attached to a strop but without the 30 odd metres of heavy, slimy, barnacle encrusted rope to manhandle on board. Naturally, the strop was also a monster and the crew could barely lift it. You really enjoy wrestling with such things at 3 am! The strop was so long that when secured, we were floating rather close to a yacht on an adjacent mooring buoy. So, for safety as we swing differently to yachts, we launched the RIB and fitted our own line directly to the buoy.

Then, finally, we could get some sleep. It had been a long night and didn’t go at all to plan. Still, Loch Shieldaig is lovely and it meant that we could look forward to a proper walk the next day and get our 10,000 paces in. Every cloud has some sort of lining it seems….