We said our farewells to Kirkwall and headed out for the delicate bit of pilotage out into the Atlantic via the Eynhallow Sound. It is delicate because of the narrowness of the narrows, the tidal race and the many, many rocks that get in the way. The wind was behind us and only the genoa was set as the wind was due to pipe up a bit. The view behind shows the cathedral spire, most useful in navigating these parts. Our visit there was inspirational and baffling, such a big building and such a small population and so old.
We passed the deep water quays with a rather strange cruise ship along side.
Ah that'll be the reason then, it's two, not one. The lesser is the Star Legend and the greater the Magellan.
A little further out is the Coastguard ship "Herakles", son of Zeus of course, anchored in the bay.
I didn't have a lot of time to take any more piccies, the wind was now 25 knots behind and I was keen not to make the acquaintance of any rocks. Suffice to say we made it out of the clutches of the Burgar rost and turned south once out of the Sound.
The Atlantic is making its mark on this battered coast. Impregnable rock is carved and moulded.
Rounding another headland the Kitchener monument comes into view. Perched on the top of the cliff it reminds us of the loss of the warship HMS Hampshire in June 1916. There are plans afoot to add a circling wall to the monument. This wall will have the names of the 736 who were lost not just Kitchener. Kitchener is maybe best remembered from the recruiting posters of the Kaiser war (WW1). His was the face and pointing hand "your country needs you" if I recall correctly. The Hampshire hit a mine just off the coast here and that was after surviving the battle of Jutland where another 6000 odd lives were lost and that was on our side.
Predictably the wind, now upon the nose, had increased to 33 knots over the deck and it was getting a little lively. I only hoped the Bay of Skaill was going to be a tenable overnight stop, it being rather exposed to the Atlantic. We had to steer round some of the worst of the swell and slow down, which was a pain because the discomfort lasts for longer. The Bay of Skaill appeared over the horizon as a welter of broken water and spray and I had my doubts at to whether it was going to be an option. Slowing down was now not possible as the wind and waves were demanding near full power just to keep way on. Further into the bay the waves eased and allowed us to make decent progress. The gusting 8 offshore wind was not allowing any swell to make it into the bay but the waves in the bay itself were enough. We had to drop the hook nearly on the beach to get shelter, but it was sufficient and a fine meal was eaten in comfort. The wind dropped overnight and what a fine place the Bay of Skaill is.
Here you can see the settlement, sadly overshadowed by the rather large farm buildings.
It was a fine day and I planned to take a passage through the Pentand Firth and, once having been spat out of the other end, to a safe place to wait out the forecast easterlies.
Timing is once again rather important and I was expecting the tide to give us a 7 knot helping hand, maybe 9 in places with a bit of luck. The eastbound passage is not as fraught as the westbound, still not to be trifled with mind, but the Merry Men of Mey do not play rough on the eastbound.
We make our way out of the Bay of Skaill past the hole in the cliff.
And, after a couple of hours sailing, reach the cardinal marks of the energy test site. Here they test machines that generate electricity from the action of the waves. I wonder what makes this place special for that then!
Plans have to be changed and we alter course to take us into Hoy Sound and then into Scapa Flow. The fog has surrounded us and I don't want to do the Pentland Firth in fog. I would rather like to see what I am about to hit thank you.
And just for good measure the Hamnavoe (8780 gross tonnage) appears, wraith like, through the mist.
It is less than 1/4 of a mile away, yeah right and he's doing 22 knots. Whatever happened to "navigate with safe speed" as the Graemsay fast ferry comes clattering into my give way sector and I have to do an emergency 180 to get out of its way. His AIS transponder was not operating, so there. We managed to get across the fast tide without any further incident and anchored, thankfully, in the Bay of Ireland, Scapa Flow. Here follows a series of photos of the fog, how quickly it comes and goes and how deadly it could be.
The last one shows a vessel at speed navigating on the edge of the bank of fog with the light beacon astern. Think I'll have a day off tomorrow.
I get a txt saying the flight has been delayed so I prepare dinner. I get another txt recounting stories of more delays so I eat dinner. Another txt tells me that due to an un-scheduled stay in a hotel my guest will not be joining me until the following day. A txt in the morning tells me that there is another five hour delay closely followed by another one saying that he has been rushed onto a flight and will be here in an hour. I prise myself out of bed and have a leisurely breakfast.
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 blast freezer sorry, tour bus. From there we meandered down the narrow stretch of land between two lochs to the circle of standing stones.
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.
We have made it up here in plenty of time for meeting the aeroplane on the 25th June, five days early. After another early morning departure we set a course across the tail of the Pentland Firth. There is a wee bit of offset to account for as we were near springs but the sea state was almost smooth.
We managed a bit of a shortcut past the Pentland Skerries,
dodged a couple of ships and headed north up the east shore of South Ronaldsay and into Holm sound. We dropped the hook in East Weddel Sound by the Churchill barriers protecting Scapa flow from the Hun.
The blockships are falling apart now and there must be scrap all over the sea bed so don't get too close, oops!
We had a bit of breakfast and a kip and then settled down to watch the qualifying for the Austrian Grand Prix. Bugger, couldn't get a signal. A quick check with the tidal stream atlas for Orkney told us if we got a move on we could just get through the Copinsay Pass and round Mull head before the roost became offensive. Three hours later we were again anchored, this time in the Bay of Meils. The rain got heavier and heavier and eventually turned into fog. Several leaks were found such was the penetrating effect of the drizzle!
Through the mist this raft of birds emerged.
And a friendly gull kept watch.
Signal was great in the bay. During the night the wind blew but the new extra heavy Delta anchor didn't move and inch. Not that the old one did either but and unfortunate incident meant that it had to be replaced.
The rain and wind continued the following day and things had to be done with the leaks. I was running out of water collection utensils. After getting rather wet and cold the leaks were reduced or stopped for the most part. In the grand prix Rosberg got the jump on Hamilton which made a change.
I had to get somewhere to do some clothes shopping, I didn't pack for winter. Kirkwall was just round the corner, about 5 miles so great effort was expended in retrieving a well dug in anchor and we panted round the corner into Kirkwall bay and then into the marina at precisely 12:01. They go from noon to noon here and you might get charged an extra day.
Kirkwall is great, the centre is minutes away. Clothes shops, three supermarkets including a Lidl, takeaways of all descriptions and loads of tourists, the Boudica cruise ship was in.
The Launderama is brilliant too, clean sheets and unsalty clothes, super. All this horrible weather has meant that I have had to venture out of the wheelhouse far more that would be usual. I might end up having to get some waterproofs like what proper yachties wear.
It is going to get messy later in the week. The boats are soon to start arriving as Kirkwall is this year one of the legs of the Triangle race or is it called the Doublehander? The Nederlanders with meet with the Viking and much drinking will happen. I remember it well in Lerwick a couple of years ago. Kirkwall hasn't done it before and I don't think they know what is going to hit them. Forty five race boats are on their way with the usual entourage of hangers on and non race boats out for the summer holiday. Until they arrive Tutak is taking a siesta.
This vessel is an ideal shape for taking the waters round here. Get caught in a tide race with tumbling water, no worries.
Peterhead is a wonderful place and I won't have anone say differently. After 20 hours tacking it is super to slip between its massive breakwaters and across the bay into the protected marina. I forgot about the wind and missed the pontoon I was aiming for and had to veer off for two up as there was a boat in the way.
After a nice sleep and some scran we cleaned up and dried out. Why they make boats with opening windows I don't know. They always seem to leak, especially when they'er under water. I might have to devise a method of covering them in inclement weather. All the effort I went to to prevent water ingress around the anchor winch seemed for nothing. It still found its way in, not as much but still some, bugger.
Peterhead is still busy with the supply vessels in and out. They are like the pickup trucks of the sea. We had some Germans, Belgians, Danes and Swedes yatchs in with us. The heating was on in the shower block which was much appreciated as the outside temperature was lower than the sea's. We stayed withing the clutches of Peterhead for two sleeps, well one and a half really but hey, then it was off for Whitehills.
I love Whitehills, don't know why, it's not particularly pretty or vibrant but I like it. It's exciting and fun to visit new places on the journey north but it is also good to re-visit places. Bertie Milne the harbour master is always on at me to polish the topsides. I alway say it's just not worth it as the Tollesbury mud will stain it right back to how it was. Graham was also there to meet me, he thought it was last year we chatted, had to tell him it was the year before.
Rattray head was its usual malevonent self. We left Peterhead to catch the fair tide round the head but that gave us wind against tide and it got a bit poppley for an hour or so. Once past Fraserburg things started to quiet down and the kettle was on for breakfast. Did I say we left at 0330hrs! Anyway after a couple of boiled eggs and soldiers and a mug of Marmite all was in balance.
I gave Bertie a call on the VHF once round the headland and asked if I could go on the slip and scrub off. He went off to check and called me back and all was arranged. It was nearly high water so we went straight in and tied against the wall and waited for the tide to drop.
As soon as it dropped enouth I donned my wetsuit and, armed with scrapers and scourers, climbed down the ladder set into the quayside and entered the water. It was a tad cold but the wetsuit and effort kept me warm for a while. By the time the tide had left the keel I was becoming hypothermic, limbs refused to work properly so a late lunch and a short sleep infront of the heater outlet were the order of the day.
Felling refreshed, well not really, we carried on with the scrubbing and scraping and by nightfall we were done in more ways than one. As the tide lifted us off the bottom the lines were cast off and the engine took us to the outer harbour and the luxury of a pontoon for the night. The morning saw us move to the fuel berth alongside the quay where Tutak had another deserved drink. It was back to the pontoon and further resting before the crossing of the Morray firth in the morning.
The visitors' pontoom in the outer harbour is open to a bit of surge.
The inner harbour, less so but don't they pack 'em in!
There are a couple of right angled tight turns to make to get in but it's not too bad.
The posts with the white triangles mark the edge of the reef so don't stray out of the entrance channel! There is also a bit of silting which maybe a problem for deeper draught boats at low water but for Tutak, with her modest 1.2m, it was no problem.
So that was Whitehills for another year. Bertie is so helpful and with Tutak's bottom fettled we were a little faster too.
