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!
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