Oban excursion, then leaving Ardfern for the equally lovely Kerrera

The weather, although nothing like as hot as the south coast, was still lovely. Unfortunately, we were not going to take advantage of it as the crew had a pretty large "floater" in her eye - the one that had a cataract operation last year. That is a warning sign of possibly very bad things so the crew called the biggest optician in Oban to get a same day check.  Specsavers of course. They were a bit process focussed  and rather unhelpful but did offer a late afternoon time slot.

As there are not hundreds of buses to and from Ardfern every day, we got the next one and then just walked into Lekalake Opticians. The exterior was a bit sad, the interior was way better but the service and support from the new owners, Calum and Helen was truly excellent. Most importantly, all was well with the eye after a thorough check. The bus back was the one that collects the kids after school and we were quietly amazed at how well behaved they were compared to some we've encountered down south. A strange day that ended well.

To kind of celebrate, we decided to visit the Galley of Lorne hotel / restaurant for dinner:

It is the only gig on the village and gets VERY varied feedback and is called the Galley of porn by some. However, Princess Anne has her yacht in Ardfern and has been known to eat there so.... We walked from the bus into the hotel reception and rang the bell, wanting to book a table as advised. Only nobody answered the bell. Still nobody. Tried the bell again, same lack of interest. Then a feckless youth wandered through, saw us said he was nothing to do with the place but said he would get someone. We then managed to get booked.

Arriving later on, we were amazed at how well refurbished the interior of the hotel was. The restaurant area was huge, well decorated but pretty empty. Here is a borrowed image:

The food was OK. The waiter (later we found out he was the owner) had a major BO problem going on which somewhat spoiled things. Then we tried to pay to find that his card payment system had gone down, there was a small queue of people in the bar wanting to pay (World Cup football night had dragged them out) and they wanted to see the match.

The malodourous owner was now sweating profusely which really didn't help fix the problem or improve the atmosphere much. He tried different machines, various reboots, bad words and nothing helped. The captain had a look on-line and of course Worldpay were reporting system performance issues..... This didn't help his mood or odour one bit. We did a bank transfer and escaped before we were overcome with the fumes.

Quite an odd evening to round off an odd day really.

Our last day in Ardfern was spent doing some more serious polishing - an area of the superstructure that hadn't been touched for far too long and needed cutting back so the machine polisher was called into service and the captain's back knew all about that, leaning over the boat deck to do the side of it. Still, we managed a little chunk of the huge expanse we have to do if the weather allows. To quote a well known UK supermarket "every little helps". 

The next boat trip was going to be to Kerrera, the lovely little island off Oban. To get there you need to pass through one of the many tidal gates in the area, this one is called the Dorus Mor. Once again, tide timings dictated an earlyish departure. Here is why timing is important:

The Dorus Mòr is a notorious tidal race located off the west coast of Scotland, between the Craignish peninsula and the island of Garbh Reisa. As the tide funnels through this narrow passage, it creates fierce currents, whirlpools, and standing waves that can reach up to 8 knots during spring tides

Yes, as we only do 8.5 knots or so flat out, pushing an 8 knot tide would be entertaining, never mind the whirlpools and standing waves. For non-boating folks, those wavy lines on the chart means just what you would imagine.

Once through that little gate, which we did at pretty much slack water, we had a rather nice trip up the Sound of Luing. Here is the route:

and once again you can see that Vessel Finder kind of lost us for a big chunk of the trip. The dotted line they use to join things up would have been a real nautical challenge:

Nice enough weather:

with Patrick and Kylie on watch as usual:

As we approached Kerrera, this rather serious superyacht was anchored off the island with an amazingly noisy generator running:

They certainly didn't need the aircon so we did wonder why such a big and noisy genset was in operation! We'd been told that we were going onto the water taxi berth so we headed around the pontoons and saw that it looked pretty full. Gill, the owner of the place came rushing down, called over to us and redirected us to a finger berth on the other side of the marina. She then sprinted over to help with the lines. Quite some service.

We had to back in, between the pontoon and a large yacht with the wind wanting us to snuggle up to the yacht. The yacht's owners had dashed out when Gill arrived and told them that they had a neighbour coming. Then they saw the neighbour was a lardy Nordhavn and were even more worried. There wasn't too much spare space as you can see:

but all went rather well to the relief of our neighbours who later told us about the damage they'd had from visiting craft in the past. Gill helped with the forward line, commented on how well the boat turns and said "that wasn't your first rodeo". Yes, they do handle well, the stern thruster wasn't needed.

We'd arrived just before noon so in the afternoon we had a little walk through the island, checking out the local farm's honesty shop and enjoying the views:

A pity it was overcast, you don't get to see the real beauty of the hills and the many colours:

It was strange that in a nice wet place like the west coast of Scotland, the Kererra folks need to invest in their own water supply:

Folks rely on their own springs or boreholes and have to take responsibility for the purification plant too. Proper off-grid living. 

Whilst on Kerrera, we took the water taxi over to Oban to do some shopping in the big supermarkets - not many more of those as you head further north.  Hudson, the bernadoodle was so cute:

and amused / detained us for a while. 

We also had a lunch in the Waypoint restaurant at the marina, run by Tim and Gill who  own the marina and also have a farm on the island so the ingredients are usually pretty fresh. As you can see from the specials board, they change quite regularly:

On our last Kerrera island day, we had some visitors. Helen, the optician who kindly checked the crew's eyeball last week, came over with Calum her other half and their daughter. Tea, coffee, chat and a guided tour of the boat followed. The 3 year old was very busy with the profusion of cuddly toys we have inherited on board and was most content. We all took the ferry across to Oban later, we wanted to raid the supermarkets before we moved on to the land of small Co-op shops at best. Helen and Calum probably just wanted to escape us.

Carradale bay to Gigha and Ardfern

We had a stupid 2:35am alarm set and weighed the anchor around 3am (only a little weed came up with it luckily) As it was the longest day of the year, it didn't stay dark for long though. The longest day and being further north really helps. We only needed / used the FLIR for around 40 minutes before we could spot things by eyeball.  Our departure timing was dictated by the tides around the Mull of Kintyre. We wanted to round it just as the tide was turning in our favour but before it really picked up and made for a very bumpy ride.

The original, hatched whilst in Tarbert plan, was to anchor off Gigha, spend a day or so there and then probably carry on heading north to Ardfern which is one of our favourite spots. Sometimes plans change as you will see from this Marine Traffic track:

The little "kink" in the route as we head north, up the western side of Kintyre was indeed us anchoring off Gigha. Briefly though, more on that later.

Just out of interest, the Vessel finder system kind of lost us. It shows the route from Tarbert to Carradale, then around the Mull, the stop off Gigha and then shows us in limbo saying that the last information received was over 7 hours old. Again you see how the coverage by Marine Traffic is better even if their new app is pretty dire:

Luckily the Toddlers use Marine Traffic so when stalking us, they didn't have to worry that we were stopped in an inappropriate place or just plain lost or sunk.

It was a lovely calm and quiet early morning run down to the Mull, a couple of yachts came out from Campbeltown and followed us but that was about it. We took an nice inshore route and got plenty of tidal help as we approached the south western corner of the Mull, before turning north:

10.7 knots over the ground when we were only doing 6.4 through the water was good - free diesel really. That "corner" of the Mull was suitably bumpy as the tide had a little squabble with the rapidly changing sea bed profile. We threw a bit of spray around, went through it and headed north, still with tidal help, towards Gigha. The sun was out, the winds were light and all was good:

Except for the weather forecast. Originally there were going to be nice westerly or SWly winds, meaning we would be nicely sheltered tucked in on the eastern side of Gigha. That morning the forecast changed significantly to a direction that is about the worst possible for that anchorage. We were going to be in for a very disturbed night which after the 2:35am alarm was not tempting at all. We arrived off Gigha around 9am and decided to see if there would be space in Ardfern, at the marina, for us. We called them, were told that they would check and call back. Meanwhile we anchored, shut down the navigation kit and chilled a little enjoying the glorious day.

Ardfern called back, said they had space so we fired the boat up again and headed further north. Fortunately there was still some fair tide to help us. The only downside was that despite the sunny day, it was too cold on the flybridge since the sun was being shielded by the bimini cover and the wind was still a bit keen.  All the same, the run up to Ardfern was lovely.

We berthed quite neatly, although we say it ourselves, so the audience had nothing to enjoy. We, on the other hand, enjoyed the view from the flybridge although we were pretty tired after the early start and 12 hours on the move:

A calm and sunny evening followed, with some impressive reflections of the yachts:

and the hills and breakwater area:

We slept rather well that night. Very well in fact.

The following day we  started by launching the RIB which had been very ignored since Penarth. The Yamaha started and then cut out, refusing to re-start. Er?? There was some fuel stain on the water too so the hood came off and we found a loose fuel filter. Tighten it and all was well. This was quite spooky. We had exactly the same problem in Ardfern back in 2013 when during a nice run up the loch, the motor just cut out. An Ardfern curse of sorts? Very odd indeed. The filter assembly has a plastic body with a strange shape that no normal spanner will tighten. As it is plastic you have to be very gentle with it anyway:

 

Once the engine was happy again, we had a serious hooligan burn down the loch to the nearby lagoon which is used by the local folks for moorings. The engine behaved perfectly, the first proper hard run since Portland last year.

After that excitement we dug out the bikes and headed down the peninsular to Craignish point:

A pretty quiet single track road and one long part of it was billiard table smooth - fewer potholes than on the M4. You end up at a little track leading down to on old quay:

Which opens out into quite a view over the islands of Scarba and Lunga plus a peek at the infamous Corryvreckan, the huge scary whirlpool area:

It was just lovely. As was a stop at the new version of Lucy's. Lucy's was a rather good coffee and food spot in a nice new building in the village that had a great following. For some odd reason she has decamped to Arisaig but the folks who ran the rather tired local shop have taken over and the transformation was a good one. We forced ourselves to stop off and test the place out on the way back.

After so much fun, an afternoon of boat polishing was in order. Just had to be done. 

Maintenance news:

The main engine was treated to around half a litre of oil. We try hard not to overfill it after an oil change as the angle it is installed at means the dipstick markings are underreading the actual amount in the sump. The time had come though to treat the engine to a little more lube. Apart from that, all was well mechanically.

One annoyance was that the manual Edson bilge pump that we'd rebuilt 4 years ago was showing signs of leakage again. The stupid thing is aluminium - just ideal for having seawater sitting in it long term.  Nordhavn tend to fit good quality equipment, how that thing was used is beyond us. It will need to be stripped down again soon to see just how sickly it is. We fear that we know the answer though - and a new bronze Edson pump is way too much money for what it basically is. We will see how this plays out. Probably very expensively.

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.