Stornoway to Lochboisdale

Leaving Lewis is hard, such a special place. However, all good things and all that.....  Where to go? Tarbert (Harris) was tempting but there are only a couple of places we could hide out there if we wanted a berth rather than anchoring and as we were forecast to get some wet and very windy weather, walking ashore not using the dinghy was tempting. Eventually we opted to head further South, back to Lochboisdale for many reasons. The optimum timing would have been around 1am on Sunday for our departure. We opted for the less optimal 4am in the interests of sleep and at the cost of a few litres of diesel.

It was darkish, drizzling and misty as we headed off. There is a tradition in the islands of not going to sea on Sunday.  Local fishing boats and commercial crews stay in port on Sundays to respect the community tradition and day-of-rest practices. We didn't feel bad about heading out as a leisure craft but were amazed to be followed by a fishing vessel:

"Our Pride" clearly wasn't observing the tradition - maybe because it was registered in Castlebay, part of Barra. The more southerly islands always seem way less god-fearing (or simply more commercial?) 

Our FLIR (infra-red camera) was pretty much useless as the relative humidity in the air was nearly 100%. So, we needed to keep a sharp lookout with it and the old technology eyeballs for pot markers as we left the harbour. As daylight came, it was still grey and there were heavy misty patches so the radar was needed for several hours. We were gently pushing the tide passing the lovely Shiants, a bunch of islands that are inhabited by massive numbers of birds. Sad to say that in the grey they didn't look too impressive through the pilothouse windows:

Way nicer on a sunny day. However, we had the bird population to enjoy on the water and flying around us, including plenty of puffin antics. There was the odd dolphin for amusement too.

On our trip up to Stornoway we had to divert for a guard vessel and we commented that we had no idea what it was guarding. So, we looked at the very useful Kingfisher bulletin website and discovered that some serious surveying was underway:

Sure enough, there was a survey vessel that had launched an unmanned craft smack bang on the track we wanted to follow. A little diversion followed, you can see the small kink in our track as we passed Skye:

It looks like a small kink but in reality means a diversion that adds half an hour to the trip. Not a huge issue in a run that was going to take 11 hours or so. The weather continued to improve as forecast so the radar was retired and we settled into cruising in gentle seas and calm winds. Just lovely. There were a few pot markers to avoid though, this one:

was in a depth of 148 metres. You are never safe it seems - at least they use good visible markers here unlike the old milk cartons we see on the south coast. 

The sun came out as we approached Lochboisdale which was nice. Less nice was that the one bigger berth in the harbour was taken up by a Swiss flagged yacht that wasn't really large enough to need it. So, we had to back onto a finger berth that is way too short for us, and then have fun trussing the boat to it ready for some blowy weather. The evening sun on the hill that we faced showed the rock and textures well:

and yes, the sea really is that colour.

Maintenance news:

Nothing really - the stern gland on the main engine shaft was starting to drip a little too often so that got tightened up. The wing engine had a good run as we approached the harbour too and behaved itself. 

Lewis and Harris

Hebcelt had finally finished and we no longer were serenaded / disturbed by the music from the marquees in the grounds of Lewes castle, clearly visible from the boat:

As things had quietened down, we picked up a nearly new rental car (so unlike the things we'd had before) and headed to Aird Uig and the Edge cafe. A truly wonderfully quirky place, run single-handedly by Fiona who prepares everything freshly as it is ordered. See Facebook link for more information on this most individual place. When we arrived two German ladies were there, one who had lived on Harris for 30 years. A great conversation, which the owner of the place joined after feeding us all. Great food too - the captain much enjoyed his fish chowder, the crew her beetroot quiche. Everything felt and was just like our last visit which was 4 years ago. Not a bad thing really.

Just up the road from the cafe is the old Aird Uig radar station site. It has a fascinating history as a communications / early warning site. Worth reading this Wikipedia link for the background. The old buildings are asbestos contaminated and have that stark functional look, apparently with 3 metre thick concrete walls as some form of protection from conventional attacks:

Somebody has used their artistic skills on the smaller structures rather effectively:

and here:

There are several concrete bases left that used to support the radar or communications equipment and they jar with the beautiful surrounding landscape:

You turn 90 degrees and see this:

180 degrees and you see this:

We made another excursion to the south, getting into Harris not Lewis. Always a strange distinction to us as there is no causeway or obvious physical split between Lewis and Harris bar the hills / mountains/ For info on the odd distinction, look at this Wikipedia link  One of the must do things is to visit Luskentyre beach:

You can see why:

A long stretch of sand, beautiful hilly backdrop and big enough to make you feel alone there no matter how many cars are in the tiny car park area. Someone had been very artistic indeed, using some of the many shells :

The turtles were way more appealing than the various jellyfish that were stranded at low tide:

That was a Moon jellyfish, not a nasty stingy version. There were a few other less pleasant ones around but we've spared you their less than lovely images. The walk was, to use an old Skegness holiday resort advertising line, bracing. A bit windy but not cold, just invigorating.

Afterwards we headed to Tarbert, East Loch Tarbert that is. The ferry terminal was sporting the new Calmac ferry that passed us during our trip up to Stornoway:

Yes, for the nay-sayers it does exist and moves from time to time as well. The Harris distillery had to be visited - not for alcohol, just a coffee and to enjoy the lovely interior of the newish building that has been very nicely done. Here is a borrowed picture of the exterior:

and the sofas that we used too:

Travelling through the middle of Lewis you really notice the proliferation of overhead power transmission lines that are part of the wind generation plans for the island. They don't exactly add to the scenic beauty. When the turbines appear it really will change the lovely island for ever. We get why the local folks raised many complaints about the environment, disturbance and how the relatively poor facilities (one small hospital, few schools etc) will handle the influx of workers who will be installing and commissioning the new generation and transmission equipment. We hope the local folks get some benefit from it afterwards.

Travelling to the far north, you get to see the Butt of Lewis lighthouse:

 

which was a target for the Luftwaffe during WWII - we are told that you can still see some bullet holes in the structure. We couldn't - maybe too high up. The area is supposed to have some of the oldest rocks in Europe and it is listed as the windiest place in the UK too. Quite a dramatic area:

as you can see - the person on the cliff edge gives you an idea of scale:

Apparently, taking a picture of the captain taking a picture was important. No idea why:

Tiumpan Head has another lighthouse to admire, painted this time:

The surrounding area isn't as dramatic as the Butt of Ness but OK all the same:

and on the way back to Stornoway, you pass the Iolaire monument:

After the passengers had survived the horrors of serving in WWI, it seems so unfair:

One of those interesting but all too brief connections happened in the rather good Beckett and sons cafe place. Two neighbouring ladies chatted about life on the island and how one of them had moved to Glasgow for work. We mentioned before about the Tesco store now being open on a Sunday and how that caused issues. This cafe opens too. Well, one lady was brought up in Stornoway and her father was the manager at the local Woolworths store when she was younger. She was in the store and her father told her to run up to the office and turn on a tape recorder that was under his desk. She asked why - he wanted to tape a conversation with a visitor.  She told him that was not legal without consent. Proper old school place:

He had asked some store staff to come in on a Sunday to do a stock check as requested by head office. The store would stay closed but all the same, he was told to expect a visitor. Sure enough, a visit by a suited and booted member of the Lord's day observance group was arranged (and taped) who told him that if he asked people to work on the sabbath, the minister would tell his parishioners to boycott the store. Apparently the manager was not too stressed as there was nowhere else in the island to buy most of the things they stocked! He wanted the tape to play to the head office folks to show how different things were on the island of Lewis.

As Hebcelt was over, the castle area returned to a normal and way better looking parkland area:

We had a final good walk around there and the town which had begun to feel like home after two happy weeks. The town is an odd mix of more modern, rendered in a drab grey finish and pretty boring buildings and then some glorious stuff like the local government place:

We were pleased that our final day in town was not one with a liner visit. Even the fisherman's statue looked happy about that:

The spell of windy weather was due to calm down over the weekend so, we felt it was time to move on. We had a day and a half window before it was going to pick up again so wanted to hide away somewhere for three days or so. Of course, having had northerly winds as we headed north, it was turning SWly as we headed south....

Maintenance news:

We did a teeny bit more polishing. Still massive amounts left  to do of course.

Being Stornowayd

After catching up on some sleep, since the weather was wonderful we decided to break out the bikes and head around to the castle area before it was over-run by the Hebcelt attendees and hangers-on.

From the other side of the harbour, you can see how cosy we are with the local lifeboat:

In fact our departure on the bikes was delayed by a long and very interesting chat with the lifeboat mechanic. They'd been out on a training exercise the evening that we'd arrived:

and he knew of John, the man in South Uist who has the two retired Trent lifeboats.  The mechanic was concerned for John's mental health.... The Stornoway lifeboat has two big MTU engines that churn out 1,600 HP each. To quote the mechanic, they sound like a bucket of spanners when ticking over as they run on 5 cylinders out of the 10 but when on song.... They simply drink a litre of diesel in around 14 seconds between them. That makes our monthly donation to the RNLI seem rather paltry, we might just about cover the fuel for a training session, when they run the boat more gently.

Heading further around the harbour, the sailing club were out and about, plenty of kids were practicing, with a Nordhavn in the background:

We enjoyed the opportunity to cycle and walk with no wet weather gear on, or the need to carry it "just in case". We stopped off for a coffee in the park, chatting to a London lady who had moved to the island many years ago. Her east end accent was still there, no Scottish lilt at all. Some accents seem rather resilient. 

In town, the sign outside the Crown Inn detailing the exploits of the young King Charles hasn't been updated to reflect his new position:

A very enjoyable cycle trip to the east of the island, across the causeway to Knock gave us a bird's eye view of the little Loganair plane taking off for Glasgow. The end of the runway is more or less where the road and cycle path runs. 

The airport doesn't quite have the same level of fencing and security as Heathrow. Nor does it have such a busy runway which is fortunate for the folks who are going to live in the new houses being built right next to it and the main road. We were amazed at the amount of construction going on all over the area. Things seemed very buoyant compared to other towns that we've visited in Scotland recently. We were told that there are some big energy projects planned that will only increase this. Have a look at weblink for more information. The local folks we talked to have very mixed opinions on the windfarm as you can imagine. Particularly the massive number of workers that will be brought in to upgrade the power grid and install the turbines which will really stretch the local facilities.

On our cycle trips we were sad to see that the longstanding island practice of just dumping dead cars and vans and letting them rot away wherever is continuing: 

So fetching! No matter, the rest of the scenery is just lovely, as are most of the people. We say most as the excitement of having a big Tesco store was dashed by the fact that the store looked as though it had been ram-raided and the checkout staff were surly beyond belief. It almost felt as though they'd managed to corner all of the miserable looking and unhelpful staff in one place. Cracking recruitment Mr Tesco.

The evening light was lovely, here is the view from our aft cockpit of the inner harbour area. As you can see, it was busy. We were glad that we came before the festival kicked off:

To celebrate a couple of lovely days, some good bike trips and the wonderful, unusual weather, the crew went wild and enjoyed an alcohol-free gin and tonic on the flybridge:

She knows how to go big. By the way, the big pretzel on her plate was, amazingly, from the Coop store and it was very good. It missed the rock salt on the outside that the Bavarian Brezn have but was almost as good as the ones the captain fondly remembers from his many trips to Munich.

We had another one of those chance encounters when, wandering along the pontoon to head for a tempting local coffee and cake place, we bumped into Tom and Helen who were heading the other way. The captain was wearing a Nordhavn cap, given to us by the USA Nordhavn folks a while ago. Seeing this, Tom said that they were en route to look at the boat as they recognised it from our time in the Clyde area.  The green covers are pretty distinctive. He had taken some pictures and video of us and shared it on local boating groups. So, they joined us for coffee and cake and then had a look around the boat. Then he added a picture to the Facebook Nordhavn Dreamers page:

Wandering around the harbour area, you really see just how dire the state of the fishing industry is, looking at the condition of the boats moored up:

Being Sunday, the harbour was busy with them. Here, you don't fish or set out to sea on the sabbath. It is seriously frowned upon. However, things have changed since our first visit. There are a couple of cafe / bistro type places which now open on Sunday! When a supermarket floated the idea, the Church of Scotland intervened big time. Pubs of course are OK, after you've been to morning service and before you go to the evening one, fully dressed. The cafe that was open was crammed with younger folks, a huge queue outside too. You can see how the traditions and grip of the church on the island will slowly die through the years.

We were having a good time here, seemed popular with the harbour staff, the lifeboat mechanic and we were enjoying using the bikes too. Even the wildlife was friendly, this lady was extremely tame:

However, so we could explore further afield, we arranged a rental car for a few days. More on that in the next post.

Maintenance news:

The horn, which made a feeble little groan when the crew tried to use it to scare off a hitch-hiking gull during our trip here, needed attention. The captain checked and found that a new compressor, the likely culprit, was available via Amazon with a pretty quick delivery, even out here. Other suppliers were less bullish on timescales. To prove the problem, the captain wriggled into the hatch under the flybridge helm where the compressor is housed, removed the air hose to the twin external horns and gave the compressor a run. Well, after giving the tube a clean out and the compressor a run, the thing worked just fine when reassembled. It worked well enough to get lots of people looking - it is wonderfully loud.

Will this be a permanent fix? Who knows, but for now, it is happy again. 

We also managed some polishing work, finishing off the flybridge exterior and doing some of the aft cockpit too. Not a massive amount but to quote a famous supermarket, "every little helps".

Lochaline to, not as planned, Stornoway

The best laid plans and all that. We'd plotted a slow trundle up the Outer Hebrides chain to enjoy the promised lovely weather over four days, with a couple of nice anchorages on the way to Stornoway. Everything was fine until the evening before our planned departure. We met a lady who told us that Hebcelt was on in Stornoway and they were heading up to it by yacht. Oh dear. A big Celtic festival and the harbour was going to be packed. We checked and it was going to start the day before our planned arrival. Fat chance of getting into one of our favourite places then.

A quick re-plan made us decide to just head straight to Stornoway instead. That gave us two days before the festival and the chance of getting a spot rather than anchoring off which is less than ideal in the harbour there. You can imagine what the tides dictated. Yes, the optimum departure would be around 1am... We decided to be a little less than optimal but to take as much advantage of the north going tide as possible, so we left at 2:45am. It didn't feel like a lie-in! A busy FLIR camera helped us out of the quiet harbour and into the pretty calm sea. The office view:

Being so far north meant that things got light pretty early on, around 3:30am which was nice as there were several pot markers to avoid. However, it was calm, tranquil and with the promise of good weather for a few days we were as happy as you can be after getting up that early. This is how the early morning light appeared:

and we were then treated to a stunningly beautiful sunrise which the phone camera didn't really do a good job of capturing. The captain was too lazy to dig out the proper camera, sorry:

The sun made an appearance and all was good. One course alteration was needed for an old fishing vessel that was working as a guard ship:

No idea what it was guarding out there at all. We had a most annoying hitch-hiker:

who refused to budge. The crew tried scaring it with the horn only to discover that our very very loud air horn had developed a sore throat.  Something to look at. Passing the Shiants, the interesting seabird quota (gulls do not fall into that category) racked up a lot. Plenty of puffins too. We also witnessed the minor miracle of the new CalMac ferry the Glen Sannox passing us on the way to Stornoway. This is the one that was "rather" late in delivery and a teeny bit over budget. The navigation system treated us to a closer picture than we could get from the pilothouse windows:

It has been called in to replace an old ferry that had technical issues and it was doing a strange "round robin" route to cater for North Uist and Harris / Lewis. We do feel for the islanders. 

The sun removed the remaining clouds and a beautiful run up to Stornoway ensued. We had to slow down a little to let the Loch Seaforth ferry go into the port first, we gave the wing engine a run and the main a good burn to clean up the piston rings and exhaust. We don't look at the fuel consumption gauge when doing that.  We like the just under 10 litres per hour for around 6.4 knots figure better. 30 odd litres for 8.5 knots isn't as nice.

The harbour folks were as well organised as usual, they called us asking if we wanted a berth, if we would be leaving the boat unattended and allocated us a lovely spot right alongside the lifeboat. Happy folks. Unfortunately, our liner curse was still active. This rather scruffy looking thing, the Corinthian,  was berthed in the commercial harbour:

Not quite Hebridean Princess standard we fear (probably way way cheaper though)  The hull seriously needs a repaint, the weed growing along the waterline was epic and the rust streaks on the superstructure added to the rather run down impression. A 1990 build she looked her age.

We had the usual "Stornoway greeting" - one of the harbour staff came down to the pontoon to help with lines and give us the info pack and registration form.  All rather nice really.

Our route up the island chain shows a couple of wriggles - those were to avoid commercial ships / the guard vessel:

The route is 72 nautical miles out to sea plus the wombling around in and out of the harbour areas. It took around 10.5 hours. So, we arrived in plenty of time to enjoy a late lunch, showers and then wander into the town briefly enjoying the sun and warmth. Almost a perfect trip in glorious weather and calm seas. The stabilisers were centered until we hit the wash from the ferry going into Stornoway and there were no complaints from the crew - that gives you an idea of how calm things were.

Maintenance news:

The dead microwave thing is a real nuisance. On longer trips we usually microwave something that had been batch cooked and kept in the freezers for dinner. As the built in microwave is a funny size (not the standard kitchen cabinet dimensions, that would be too easy) we decided to get a cheapo free standing one to use until the winter. Then we can struggle the dead one out, measure up and figure out what will fit. It was hard to find something suitable back in 2018. So a wander into the Euronics store that is handily on the harbourside, a chat to the nice ladies running it and a suitable free standing one was procured. It took it's place on the countertop. Not ideal but better than nothing.

The horn that has gone a bit husky - after the early morning wake up, that has to wait for another day.