A short Summer Trip that ended with some fun

At last there was a prospect of nice settled weather, sunny with gentle breezes, so it seemed a good idea to set off for a couple of days. With a fine crew, The First Mate and her pal, the newly appointed Cabin Girl being both on annual leave we duly left the anchorage in Loch na Cille in light airs and drifted down the loch on a falling tide, the idea being to stop for lunch at Caisteal nan Coin and wait for the Cuan Sound to open its gate for us two hours before High Water Oban. In the event we were there pretty well at opening time and found a gentle breeze as we entered, giving us the required ability to steer, although in the Sound the tide does most of the work.

Not generally appreciated is that the tide is still falling during those two hours. The outgoing water travels West before taking a turn to Port and joining the last of the ebb down past Fladda light. At that point the wind failed us, we rigged the Torqeedo outboard and headed North at a gentle pace to conserve electricity, giving us a speed of 1.5 knots that doubled as the flood came up.

After six miles, when we had hardly dented the reserve in the battery, a nice breeze came up and we were able to anchor under sail in Garbh Airde. We set a tripping line, essential here because the kelp is really growing and there are few visitors to this long narrow cut in the land, with high rock on one side and reefs lurking just under the surface on the other.

Once settled we were delighted to see the lovely, historic Kentra at anchor in a slightly wider bay half a mile away. Beyond her a forest of masts in Puilladhòbhran, basically a parking lot these days and probably too busy for the otters after which it’s named.

Dinner ashore supplied by the CG in the encampment she and the FM had established, venison meatballs in tomato sauce followed by chocolate. Then the Kentras arrived for strawberries, bringing with them an invitation for breakfast next day, which we felt we couldn’t refuse.

Kerrera in the distance

Evening

Early Morning, Second Day

I love the Kentra, now in rather better shape than when I first came across her thirty years ago. She triggered one of the most fascinating and complex episodes in my career and was responsible for numerous friendships.

Heading South, the legendary Harry Spencer aboard

I’m always thrilled to see her on her West coast excursions. Named after a bay beloved by her first owner she’s the prime example of the very best of Scottish ship craftsmanship, launched from Fairlie in 1923. She also my favourite Fife yacht by far, designed to take her folk anywhere they choose and weather the World’s worst storms.

We were collected for breakfast and a good chat about the Middle Ages (of the Western World that is, not ourselves), then ferried back to the bay we’d made our base.

With no sign of wind the day was spent walking, reading and exploring the interesting bays along the North coast of Seil in the tender.

Ardfad from the sea

I visited the ancient MacDougall stronghold of Ardfad, confiscated by King Robert the Bruce in January 1313 and given to the Campbells, about which you can read more here: The Campbells

Day Three started calm, plenty of time for breakfast, packing up to leave not a trace onshore, before our planned departure time of 1030, an hour before High Water. The anchor duly dekelped, we drifted round the rocky point and headed South into an extremely unpleasant and increasingly bumpy swell, rocking the minimal air from the sails and unsettling us physically and mentally.

We decided to hold to seaward of Easdale, as to return through Cuan would have deprived us of the fun of the passage down the Sound of Luing. What fun it turned out to be. Just past the shelter of Insh a breeze sprang up and within five minutes had risen massively, accompanied by a strong Atlantic swell, ruling the idea of heaving to to tie in a reef safely.

The clips give a better idea of what the next forty minutes were like. Under full sail Mariota flew, always under control, her buoyant ends coping perfectly with seas that were more blocks of water than definable waves. These were by far the most testing conditions I’ve been in with her since launching her in 2019.

The seas flattened greatly past Fladda and the passage to Ard Luing seemed to take just a few minutes. We squared off for an interesting gybe; the CG took over the helm for the stretch down past Shuna and I settled down for a rest and a drink.

The fun wasn’t quite over. We decided to take in the first reef and while doing so noticed that the cap on the tender’s daggerboard had been lost in the turmoil, with the result that she was rapidly filling up.

The FM and the CG took turns to bail her out and we reckoned we’d make it home before the problem returned. The CG then took us on a close reach down to Arduaine, followed by a half hour’s run back to the mooring.

The strange habits of the Seilachs

“It's a kind of black market activity, kept under the radar to avoid accidents with inexperienced people sailing boats with no built in buoyancy or side decks, and all the more delectable for the illicit flavour.”

The above quote is from Professor Pedro H Watson, the well known mathematician, naturalist, traditional boat builder, green guru and plague survivor, on hearing that the simple islanders of Seil had put up a sail on their skiff.

We can’t get too angry with those wretched islanders. No state of the art bridge for them, equipped with devices to remove ice, electric signs to warn of escaped wildlife, these primitive folk have to traverse one of the oldest bridges in the World. Not only that, it crosses an ocean, so mostly they stay at home.

They exist in small hovels along the shore, eking out an existence by the manufacture of scarecrows and the staging of strange shows. At times they can be heard singing curious songs composed by one of a family famous for boating songs. From a distance they sound like happy seals.

In the days of sailing ships these islanders were namely for rowing out to vessels in distress looking for plunder. Nowadays, sadly, modern navigational systems have deprived them of this simple pleasure.

In mitigation of their crime we can only say that having seen those ships and their modern equivalent, the sailing yacht, temptation got the better of them when they came across a neat little mast, a sprit sail and a tiny jib. It took them just minutes to make a hole in the forward thwart and off they went.

Through the Cuan Sound they went, admittedly under oars, then up went that sail and North they flew before the breeze.

They had heard of Oban and its world famous tower which jealous folk and jesters have been heard to call a folly. When, ahead, they saw a magnificent stone pile atop a cliff they promptly made landfall, thirsting for strong drink, but found instead a castle that had lain abandoned for several hundred years. Fortunately they also found nearby an extremely nice cafe, where they had a cream tea before returning home. To their delight they found that the skiff went well to windward under those tiny sails.

In conclusion we must stress that although innocent of the ways of the world those islanders were by no means inexperienced in sailing small open boats on the sea. Indeed they had among their number a fine navigator with a curious resemblance to Professor Watson.

The First St Ayles Regatta on Seil

The mist cleared on Saturday as the wind got up beyond what was forecast, giving interesting rowing conditions for the three skiffs in the race track from Seaview along the shore to the finish in Easdale Sound.

The Portobello visitors in Ice Breaker showed their experience by powering ahead in the first race, closely followed by Mid Argyll’s Uisge with Selkie of Seil quite a bit behind. The Rowportys victory was a bit of a moral one however, as the wind had whipped away the announcement that the  finish line had been changed, so that they came to a temporary halt at the pier and allowed the Selkies to cross the new line first.

The line was changed back for the second race, which had the same finishing order, Selkie suffering a broken thole pin just after the start.

By the third race the Selkies were getting more into their stride, but again Ice Breaker powered home a little in front of Uisge.

The proposed Round Easdale Race had to be abandoned, as the wind had whipped up quite a nasty sea outside of the sound, so there was plenty of time for members of all three clubs to inspect and try out the other skiffs and socialise.

The main entertainment at the ceilidh came from Neil and Laura Kennedy and the Seil Sound singers with solo contributions from among others  Emily Aldwinkle and Graham Campbell who sang and Sue Vest who delivered a beautiful flute solo.

Uisge couldn’t stay for the Sunday, so the two other skiffs had a cruise in company in stunning conditions, the sun sparkling over the waves, down tide through the Cuan Sound followed by a parade past the Tigh an Truish and under the Bridge over the Atlantic. 

During the weekend there were many opportunities for visitors to have go at rowing. Scottish Coastal Rowing is spreading like a virus round our shores.

Argyll Kayak Trail _ With THIS in the middle of it? We don't think so!

For a couple of years a growing group of us, residents of mid-Argyll in a completely lovely part of the West coast of Scotland, have been campaigning against the mad expansion of industrial fish farming in the sea lochs.

Our campaign group has established a website www.saveseilsound.org.uk which has all the details.

The image above shows an existing farm operated by Lakeland Marine Farm, who have recently been given permission to increase its size to almost double. They also want to instal a new farm, which will block nearly half the navigable width of the Seil Sound, an utterly historical part of our coast.

The local economy here is extremely fragile. Outside of those employed by the public sector, health workers, teachers, the police and so on, it depends almost entirely on tourism in all its forms.

Many (perhaps most) readers of this blog live outside of the United Kingdom but I'm aware from comments received over the years I've been blogging that many of you have ancestral connections with the area, from which thousands emigrated to all parts of the World. You form a sizeable contingent of our annual visitors, families from the States and Canada returning to their roots, Australians making pilgrimages to Ulva, from where MacQuarrie came, and so on.

Only last year my brother had the honour of piping while the ashes of an American Campbell lady were consigned to the Sound of Shuna.

Things are hotting up now, with a planning application going to a hearing in the next month or two. because of this we've started a new blog, here, http://saveseilsound.org.uk/wordpress/

Click the link to see the relevance of the photograph at the top!