“Be thou the rainbow in the storms of life. The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, and tints tomorrow with prophetic ray.” Lord Byron
It seemed the Irish Sea was making sure we were worthy to travel through her beautiful string of Scottish Isles. Our first two weeks were fraught with howling winds, ripping currents, and lots of rain. She was surely testing us, trying to decide if we merited passage to her remote beauty.
It was at this point we actually contemplated turning around and heading back to Bangor. Between having no heat, due to our brand-new diesel heater failing, and the rough and tumultuous weather, we weren’t sure it was worth continuing. In hindsight, leaving would have been a horrendous decision.
In total, our entire journey took us to 16 different harbors and we sailed over 500 nautical miles. While the first few weeks were less than optimal when it came to weather, the Isles smiled upon us and rewarded our persistence with what the locals called ‘another summer’. Here are some of the highlights.
Tobermory -Isle of MULL
After a gloriously sunny day in Oban we headed on in more sketchy weather. Our next destination was Tobermory on the Isle of Mull. We would be forced to harbor there for 6 days as round after round of fronts barreled through the Scottish Isles causing large seas on our extended route north.
Tobermory is a popular vacation destination on Mull Island. A ferry transports visitors regularly from the mainland of Scotland and leaves them to explore the wonders of Mull. Of all the towns we visited, Tobermory gets the award for ‘most scenic’. The town is lined with colorful buildings and shops, nestled beneath the cloak of a green mountain. They have many quaint shops, cafes, and pubs. Of course, they have their own whisky distillery as you can’t truly call yourself a reputable Scottish town without one. Taking refuge there did have its benefits.
What makes this town so incredible are the scenic pathways along the coastline. While we waited out the weather in the protection of the harbor, we were able to take hikes. We simply waited for the part of the day where the winds abated and the sun made an appearance. We then jumped in the dinghy and took our shore excursion.
One of our hikes took us out to the point of land we passed to gain entrance to Tobermory. From the sea, the lighthouse didn’t look like much, especially without sunshine favoring her. On our walk, as we reached the lighthouse, the clouds parted and the sun beamed down to highlight the amazing structure. The wind still howled, gusting to 30 knots, but the view we got of the lighthouse, framed in the blue sky and fluffy white clouds, will forever live in my memory.
When Tobermory rose from its geological birth, it must have had an agenda. It wanted to be the Scottish Isle with the greatest number of waterfalls. I haven’t fact-checked but I feel sure it succeeded, at least in accessibility anyway. Our daily hikes took us past dozens of waterfalls. Dense, moss carpeted forests lined the streams and falls. The hush of the forest was broken by the tremendous rush of the steams and the fast-flowing falls.
When standing in these forests, transfixed by the sound of the streams, we found ourselves lingering, not feeling a need to be anywhere else on the planet. It was truly magical.
We hiked to a loch, part of their national forest park. Lilly pads dotted the lake while mountains stretched in all directions around her perimeter. One monstrous waterfall could be seen in the distance cascading down to the lake. We just had to hike around the lake and get a closer view.
As the paths wound around the coast, we would get breaks in the trees and views of the harbor. The scenery was so breathtaking that we just had to stop and admire every view. We often were able to spot our boat patiently waiting for us on her mooring.
We had the perfect spot in the harbor, near the base of a waterfall flowing into the sea. The sound of the falls echoed into our boat’s cabin.
Finally, after hiking 30 miles around this town, the weather gave us chance to move on. As we got ready to release from the mooring ball and move on, I was trepidatious about our decision to continue. It was then that Dan stopped, stared for a moment, then told me to look behind me.
If you follow my stories, I have an uncanny number of unusual signs and experiences that seem to align with the concept that our life is on the track. We are somewhere in the world we are supposed to be, at just the right moment.
This was one of those moments. Stretching in a perfect arc above the most beautiful town we have ever seen, was a brilliant rainbow. It was pure in color and clarity. Most importantly, it was a message that we were going to be okay. We passed the test and better days were ahead. A sign that brilliant surely wouldn’t lie.
Isle of Skye – Loch Schavaig
Captain Dan would have loved to sail to the remote islands on the outside of the Hebrides. But weather and time dictated that the farthest north we would be able to sail was to the island of Skye. We heard it was spectacular and it didn’t disappoint.
The sail to Skye was cloudy and the weather wasn’t quite ready to break yet. We picked a tiny harbor to anchor in that only had room for a couple of boats. As we sailed in, all we could do was look around in awe. The mountains rose on all three sides of the harbor. We felt like an ant, peering up from a sidewalk of towering humans. We had never experienced such a visual dichotomy between the elevation of the harbor and the surrounding mountains.
Our main concern in this harbor was going to be the wind blowing through during the evening. The bout of storms was not quite done with us. We double-checked our anchor and that our dinghy was securely tied to the boat. As it was cloudy and cold, we didn’t go to shore the afternoon of our arrival. We were totally content to sit in the comfort of our enclosed cockpit and enjoy the view.
We have a system where after we anchor, Dan goes to the bow and uses his iPad to set an anchor alarm. As we were encased inside rocky shores, dragging anchor would be really bad news. If our boat swings outside the designated zone, the alarm on the iPad will sound. Hopefully, we have time to start the engine before we strike land. This is the premise of the anchor alarm.
Dan never really trusts technology, so he was up several times during the night doing visual checks. As the boat rocked and the winds howled, Dan didn’t give up his vigilance until about 3 am when he finally decided that if we were going to drag anchor, it would have already happened. I slept like a baby – I have that much faith in my captain. God, I love that man!
The next morning the sun was on the fence about if it wanted to come out or not, but we were not going to miss exploring this unique and rugged terrain. We took our dinghy to shore and were met by a large flat stream, ending in a cascade of rocks, which formed a perfect waterfall to the sea. It was mesmerizing.
We saw some hikers, rock climbers, and one sole camper as we set off into a valley between the mountains. There was of course a beautiful freshwater loch, echoing the majesty of the mountains around her in the still waters. We hiked for a few miles and had a picnic lunch on the shore of the loch.
While we could have spent a few days exploring this incredible island, we had so many more ports to visit that we set off the next morning for Inverie. There were rumors of a world-renowned pub in this little harbor and we just had to check it out. The best part? THE SUN CAME OUT! Rainbows may be a little slow to produce, but they never lie. We had our first sail in the Scottish Islands with sunshine. It finally felt like summer.
Inverie – Scotland Mainland
Touted as the remotest pub on the British mainland by the Guinness Book of World Records, The Old Forge is located on the Knoydart peninsula. Built in the 1900’s it recently changed hands for the first time in 2 decades. What makes this pub/restaurant special is that it can only be reached by private boat, a 45-minute ferry ride, or by trekking 18 miles over a mountain.
We sailed into the harbor, all smiles after our warm and sunny transit from Skye. We were the only boat in the harbor as the sailing season is winding down. We picked up a mooring ball and dinghied to shore. A small crowd was gathered on picnic tables on the water’s edge, waiting for the pub to open at ‘half five’. That’s 5:30 in our language.
When the pub opened, we were regaled by the new Belgian owners, touting their homebrew “Remoteness”. We asked if there was room for us among the dinner reservations as I just had to try their fresh-caught local famous prawn and seafood platter.
We don’t eat out often, and when we do, we usually share a dinner. Despite people having the misconception we are sailing because we are rich, the opposite is true. When our sailing budget is gone, we will be done sailing. We live a very budget-conscious lifestyle. However, when you sail to the most remote pub in Britain and it features a world-famous seafood dish, that is the time to splurge.
The seafood was probably the best I’ve ever tasted. After weeks of traveling from port to port, and cooking every meal on the boat, I was in heaven. As we took our dinghy back out to Equus, she was waiting patiently, highlighted in the glow of a brilliant sunset.
No one can put a price on the feeling of having had a gourmet dinner in a remote pub, after a perfect day of sailing, returning to your boat in a dreamy sunset, knowing you sailed halfway around the world to get there. It’s days like this that make all the difficulties worth it.
Rum Island
I think Dan was lured to Rum because of the name. Alas, there was no rum to be found, not even one pub, restaurant, or open store. There was one small shop but only opened between 5 and 6 PM.
This island has an interesting history. There is an abandoned castle that was once the “Great Gatsby” of the Scottish Isles. The son of a wealthy merchant used the castle as his private party mansion, entertaining wealthy guests from around the world. After he left, the castle was used as a youth hostel until disrepair made it unsafe to be a dwelling.
There were tours conducted where relics from the party era were safely concealed behind red velvet ropes. The only reason we know this is because we looked in the window and peaked at the ghosts of the past.
Other than that, Rum is a park with trails from one end of the island to the other. There are a few camping pods and it is reportedly run by bureaucrats who have most likely never visited the island. Rum had a distinct topography from all the other islands we had visited. It’s amazing how each island is completely different in look, feel, and population.
We took a hike and discovered the abandoned dwelling of Croft 3. Crofters, are people who are given a piece of land. They live off the grid and use the land for survival. Croft 3 had a family of 5 living in a tiny trailer-like dwelling in the middle of a field.
The home was abandoned. The gardens overgrown, socks on the clothesline, a lonely trampoline in the yard, and a few geese wandered restlessly around the house.
The sign on the gate stated that this family lived off the land by gardening and raising pigs, chickens, geese, and guinea fowl. They made postcards, crafts, and sold vegetables in a stand. We found the stand along the trail. Looking in the windows, we could see the crafts and postcards still on display, but the building had been abandoned for quite some time.
It’s a mystery of how and why Croft 3 disappeared. It could have been Covid, could have been many reasons. We found their car abandoned along the road with Croft 3 written on the side.
Kilmelford
The sun continued to shine on us as we sailed to Kilmelford, a small marina on only a few miles from the town of Oban where we stopped on our way north. We did have one rainy day at the marina, but the day we departed, it was glorious again.
Once again, the fact that we are supposed to be where we are at a specific point in time, made itself apparent.
I have mentioned my sailing mentor, John Kretchmer on many occasions. When I was overcome with PTSD after our first disastrous first attempt at crossing the Atlantic when it came time to cross from BVI to the Azores, I was ready to tell Dan he had to find crew. I was becoming paralyzed with fear at the thought of facing another storm.
We pulled into St. Martin. Two boats away was John Kretchmer. We were invited to his boat for Captain’s Hour and I told John about my fears. I was close to tears as I explained how I had lost my confidence to cross an ocean. John was literally the only person on the planet who could have looked in me in the eye and talk me down off that ledge. By the time he was done, I was ready to cross the ocean. We have five of his books on our boat. One of them is Cape Horn to Starboard. It is a story about his record-breaking sail from NYC to San Francisco in a 32 ft. Contessa sailboat named Gigi.
The voyage was remarkable with a capsize, monster waves, and all types of hardships. I think about those often when things get rough. Our boat is 43 ft. and designed for bluewater sailing. If Gigi could endure, I know we will.
As we got ready to leave the dock, Dan called me out of the cabin. “Look at the name on that boat in front of us,” he said.
I looked at the name. It was Gigi. Dan asked the owners, “Is this a Contessa 32?”
The captain looked at Dan with a curious expression. “Yes,” he replied.
“Is this… ‘THE GIGI’? Dan asked with growing excitement.
It was. I teared up a little as I asked the couple if I could touch the boat that helped me through so many of my personal crisis. Of all the thousands of harbors in these islands, how could she be here?
They had pulled up to the dock to prepare Gigi for winter berth at this marina. Had we not walked out on the dock that particular hour, on that particular day, we would never have known that this marina was Gigi’s home.
Once again, the cosmos has thrown meaningful encounters our way. When I want to turn around and go back to safe harbor, I need to remember that moving forward is always the direction we need to go.
We have hardships. We have very bad days. However, the good things that happen, the beauty we see, the adventures we share, are a recipe for what makes this journey special and memorable. You can’t always have sunny days, good weather, and everything working on your boat.
The premise for going forward is that as long as we are still alive, still in love, and still afloat, it’s all good. It’s the wonderful surprises along the way that let us know we are still on course.
Our last stop before heading to the Crinan Canal was an invitation to stop at the summer home of OCC Commodore Simon Currin. Simon and his wife happened to be on vacation at their summer home just as we were sailing by. We finally met Simon in person after corresponding with him through the OCC.
We picked up the mooring ball in the harbor near his home. We had a wonderful afternoon getting to know the couple and talking about our respective sailing adventures. Since we don’t get to talk to many people on this solitary voyage, it’s a special treat to meet new friends and have a conversation about our shared interest.
To end this section of our voyage, we had another gorgeous, sunny day to sail from Simon’s home to the beginning of the Crinan Canal. We had no idea what to expect as we had never navigated a canal with locks aboard Equus. It was a different experience from our normal sailing exploits. Stay tuned for that story next!
In the meantime, fair winds and sunshine my friends.
Alison and Dan
s/v Equus