Des is a longtime friend and has sailed on Tutak and the other boat. He has since taken to power craft and has a Broom 37 as a recent acquisition. He came aboard and asked me about safety and why I didn't have a life ring. As a single hander I asked him who was going to throw it to me? I could have dug it out the locker to make him happy. What he didn't tell me however was that he is now 68. Sixty eighty, well in a couple of weeks, I should have asked him for a fitness to sail ticket from his doctor. He apprenticed as an engineer on ships but obviously a long time ago now, do they still have steam?
We went shopping for food as he is a non meat eater. I tend not to eat meat on board as it is a pain to keep it fresh. But since I had a guest the fridge was fired up, special like.
I took Des a while to get used to the long 18 hour days. He kept me talking 'till 01:15, his excuse was that it wasn't really dark so it couldn't be that late.
The weather being what it was and him being a day late already I decided it would be best to navigate around the islands rather that try for Shetland. So we set off through the String and Shapinsay Sound for the south islands, one in particular that had the Italian Chapel on it. The Italian Chapel was built by Italian POWs as part of camp 60. Being Catholic they wanted to go to church, their church. So the powers that be got together and gave them two nissen huts which they erected end to end. As the POWs were being used as labour to build the barriers to keep the German U boats out of Scapa Flow, the British Fleet's northern anchorage. These barriers consisted of many tons of rock and thousands of concrete blocks. As there was a lot of concrete about some of it was used in the construction of the chapel and it's adornments. Barbed wire was used as reinforcing for the finer elements and the statue of St. George slaying the dragon.
The chapel originally had a cardboard bell but it was replaced with a bell salvaged from one of the sunken block ships as was much of the metalwork.
It really is something special inside. All fake, made out of whatever they could lay their hands on, but brilliant.
Tutak looks a long way off but I didn't want to come too close as the remains of the sunken block ships might tear the bottom out.
As it happens those remains were on the other side of the barrier just here.
You can see the concrete blocks that the POWs laboured over. A road was laid on top of the causeway which had the added benefit of linking many of the southern islands with the main island or mainland as the Orcadians say. But mind, it's never "the mainland" just "mainland". Just as it's never the Orkneys with an S, just Orkney.
There is still much hanging around from the Hitler war. These emplacements are now perched half out of the eroding cliff.
I think this must be a fire control tower perhaps. There seem to be a few of these around surrounded by emplacements for larger guns. But hey, I know nothing.
After a welcome cup of tea in the Orkney wine company's shed we upped anchor and headed for a less open anchorage for the night. Des cooked something rather nice for dinner. Good with food is Des, that's why he's allowed on board.
Next day was a sail through the islands to the north west island of Westray. Pierowall to be precise; the fog stayed away for the most part as we negotiated the Copinsay pass and the Mull roost, up through Eday sound and through the Calf sound. It had been a slow wind day and by now we had lost our tide and there was some doubt as to whether we could make it out of the Calf sound with the tide against us. However we did, just, it was touch and go for a while but we could have picked up one of the Orkney Council visitor buoys. Well laid they are and re-laid every year.
By late afternoon we were alongside the seasonal pontoons in the harbour enjoying another one of chef's creations.
After a chat with some locals, one of whom was 76 and was waiting for his new boat to arrive from Kirkwall, we set off for the return journey via Ferness, bound for Kirkwall. The trip down the Atlantic coast had been abandoned due to weather. We had wanted to anchor in the Bay of Skaill to visit the 4000 year old settlement. The trip has to be planned fairly meticulously as the tides play a big part in the safe navigation of these waters. Atlantic swell against a 5-7 knot tide can raise a nasty little sea and if you add a brisk wind into the equation too then . . . . . . .
Upon safe arrival in Kirkwall we gave the chef a night off and headed out for the Chinese where we feasted. I enjoyed my sit down meal in comfort and warmth but Des, being an aficionado on all things Chinese, decided he had had better.
The next morning we behaved as tourists and arrived at the bus station dressed for winter in the wetlands. A cruise ship was in and we did not have the place to ourselves. The nice lady in tourist information after assessing that we were not on "the ship" advised us that it would be quieter and warmer in the afternoon maybe. Of course we declined this advice and were treated to arctic conditions on the last and most exposed seats of the open topped bus.
We seemed to wend our way for hours round scenic roads of mainland. The mist and fog meant that most of the spectacular views were not viewable but I'm sure they are wonderful. We arrived at the settlement to be greeted with a sign telling us how much more it was going to cost. We went for a walk on the beach and accidentally found ourselves within the confines of the settlement.
The site had been uncovered by storms many years ago and preserved for all to see. Considering how old it is they seemed to have things pretty well sorted. Couldn't see where the Dyson plugged in though.
Box beds, dressers, food preparation areas, fire pits. It was like they had gone out for the day and we had walked in unannounced.
After the real homes we reversed the tourist route and found ourselves within the compound where they had recreated a roofed dwelling with all its accoutrement's Based on what they had found during the dig. Then we accidentally brushed against the disabled access button enabling us to walk into the visitor centre and use the facilities. Des had an awful cup of coffee but he couldn't really complain. We watched a film about the site and viewed the artifact before returning to the
This was reached via a boardwalk across what can only be described as a bog. Sadly, due to the, allegedly, unseasonable rainfall, this boardwalk was now no longer long enough and we were forced into "bog yomping" in order to reach the stones. They may have been standing but we weren't by the time we got there.
The stones were of a type that have split over the millenia leaving some of them a lot thinner than they might have been. Tasteful conservation (just) has been carried out to mitigate the passage of time. The outcome of the discussion at to the use of the stone circle was either a boot sale venue or a football pitch. The journey back to Kirkwall took us past a few more stones where we just slowed down for photo opportunities and past deep water port where the cruise ships docked. Several passengers alighted here keen to get back to a hot shower and double figure temperatures.
I nearly got off myself and blagged a cup of tea in the atrium but with the security on ships these days, even Des wouldn't have managed it. Did I say he was from Liverpool?
The remainder of the afternoon was spent sunbathing on deck. The temperature had reached 17C with an expected high of 18C by six in the evening. Des braved the deck but I spent my time in the cockpit swathed in a tartan blanket.
It was time for the guest to fly away again but not before one last meal on land. This time is was the Indian. I loved it, but Des was not too sure. Rethinking his decision on the Chinese the other night, maybe it wasn't that bad after all.
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