One has a free night in Seaport marina and subsequent nights were only a tenner so as there was no rush we dallied a day and took on some stores. The new steward needed 'erbs.
So instead of paying for another night we tucked up in front of the road bridge. It was closer to the shops anyway and we still had our keys to get into the facilities. Pete' barge was behind us so we felt at home.
And soon the bridge was swung for us to take the first rise.
This is the fair city of Inverness, capital of the Highlands.
Except it's at sea level and some folk will go to extraordinary lengths to hide their stash.
I didn't know they had developed water resistant varieties!
We eventually made it into Nessy land and had the cameras at the ready, ready to become millionaires should we snap the monster.
Of course the wind was on the nose and chuffing heartily down the glen. The next morning we had stillness with the above result.
We passed Urquhart Castle or what's left of it.
The steward was caught pondering whether to do risotto or paella for the evening meal.
We had the fortune to share a lock with the Ross Crana. I was keen not to become his spare fender.
Onward to Laggan bridge where we met up with Margaret the bridge keeper. Maybe she doesn't see many folk but we managed to see the bridge of Oich.
I tried to get arty with this shot but failed. I forgot about shadow.
In between the sunny interval we had the "drizzle", heavy rain, mist, torrential rain, light rain, low cloud and just plain rain. Then the sun comes out again and one sees this stunning avenue.
It was actually difficult to navigate the perfect reflection as the definition of up and down was odd. See what I mean?
Yes I have just flipped the photo upside down. And then it gets really surreal when you turn your head on one side.
Reminds me of LSD days in the seventies, did funny things to you apparently.
Loch Lochie Lock proved a mouthful to navigate on the radio but provided a triple layer of cloud for us to see and feel.
We nipped down Neptune's Staircase in an hour and a quarter as we were the only boat in the locks. We waves at the choo choo Potter train as it puffed its way back from Mallaig.
And tied up outside the Lochy Bar overnight and then dropped the last two locks into the Corpach basin were we bunkered alongside and went shopping too.
The sun had lunchtime off from the rain and gave us a chance to see the mountains.
The Calley canal, gateway to the universe and everything.
Over lunch the staff disappear but they did leave the overflow sluices open just in case it rained.
Later on we took the last drop to sea level and spent a night on the outside pontoon. I'm afraid we interrupted the locals having dinner.
While the Potter Train once more delivered Potter Fans back to Fort William.
The morning saw us taking the tide outbound for Oban to find some more charts before we fell off the edge of ours.
That's the Mars bar quota gone for the month then. Well done Tony, and well done Doug, he cheated as he knows everything about music and most other things. Gilbert O'Sullivan it is then.
The replacement steward sauntered down the pontoon in a manner that said "trouble".
Stowing his gear below we set off to explore the fleshpots of Queen'sferry. There was a cruise ship in with lots of folk from the US of A, so the waterside town was busy. The attendant of the bunker berth suggested a reasonable drinking establishment and we entered the doors of doom, there to remain until the close of time. Well, until the sun went down, which in these parts is about ten at night, whereupon we sought out a local Sino take out. Stuffed we fell asleep to await our midday tide. Despite the excesses of the town I managed to get a night time view of the latest road bridge. This time it is a cable stayed version which hopefully will last longer than the dodgy wire version next door.
In the daytime it looks even more impressive as the ends get closer. They were just building the towers when I was here in '11.
Anyway, enough of bridges we have a tide to take. The idea is to get out the firth and round the corner to St Andrew's to anchor. The trek to Arbroath was considered too far as we would never make the last lock in and the weather may not have been suitable for a new crew member unused to Tutak's antics at anchor. So Anstruthers it was to be.
The times worked well as the harbour dries to soft mud. The steward complained bitterly of the hideous music playing on the pier a few yards away. The fair was in town, but they did stop early but not early enough apparently. The local butcher was very nice as was the Mason's Arms, we were legless on the way out anyway.
The next leg was too long really and we should have made a effort to stop but Peterhead was reached in under sixteen hours and there we basked in sunshine and did the toon, several times. The heater had resisted surgery and was pronounced extinct so we were on the lookout for a cheapy fan heater to warm our cockles of an evening as an alternative to the pub. It's a fair hike into toon but the views round the harbour make it palletable, just.
Imagine the place before the prisoners build the harbour walls. This is where they used to abide during their hard labour.
With the marina in its own little harbour.
A supply ship makes its way in, heading for the South Base.
This is the North side of the harbour with its many little harbours tucked inside.
A closer view shows some of the fishing fleet made famous by the TV series. I thing there is a big pelagic boat in there too.
An guess what little 'erbert we find tucked away in a corner?
Dylan from "Keep Turning Left" never showed up though, shame 'cause we keep missing each other over the years.
Starting to suffer "harbour rot" we decided to play the game "let's see how much whisky we can drink in three hours". This was unfortunately aided by the Scot, Lewis, on the boat next door, who was rather generous with his measures after inviting us on for a nightcap! Needless to say the followings day's sailing was cancelled due to Peter's head!
