We have reached what, barring the unexpected, will be our most northerly point: 58 degrees and 57.8 minutes north! From here we will turn south – we are, oddly, feeling both sad about this and feeling there is still a long way to go. Already we have sadly watched our longitude decrease from -8.5 West (Kinsale) to -6.5 (Isle of Canna) to -3 (Stromness). (Incidentally, we have just updated the plot of our route on the other page if you are interested.)
Cape Wrath, despite the warnings in the pilot books, was benign. We had an early start from Loch Laxford, a rocky corner 20 miles south of the cape where we anchored for 2 nights, sheltering from the wind and trying (unsuccessfully) to catch fish. We soon found ourselves in the midst of the largest pod of dolphins we have seen yet; it’s also the first time we have seen them jumping out of the water. We passed our round-Britain rower again (we saw him on the AIS, emerging from a different loch, just behind us). Frustratingly, with little wind we had to use the motor for an hour to avoid the tide on the corner, which always upsets Helen.
Once “round the corner”, we continued our unsuccessful hunt for mackerel off the back of the boat. We have concluded we are the worst fishermen at sea. We need more weight on the line (so have just been to get some).
There are few sheltered anchorages on the north coast of Scotland – we selected Rabbit Island, Kyle of Tongue for an overnight stop, leaving a day’s sail to reach the Orkneys, 40 nm away. Getting into Scapa Flow requires care in a boat like Ventata as the tide in the sound of Hoy runs so fast. We set out at 6am to catch this tide, which was due to turn the right direction at 6pm. It was obvious, after a couple of hours, that we weren’t going to make it so, rather than motor, we put back in to the next bay up the coast to wait. It had a wonderful, clean sandy beach so we pumped up the kayak and rowed ashore for lunch. We’re pretty sure we sure an eagle flying over it. Getting back to Ventata was interesting (read “wet”) as there were breakers rolling onto the beach.
We revisited our plan for the second Orkneys attempt: The wind was forecast to come to the east and strengthen from late afternoon, and though idyllic, the anchorage was too tippy for a good night’s sleep. We decided on a night crossing and, after much debate, a 9pm departure, on the basis that if we made an average speed of:
· 4 knots (normal in light wind), and didn’t need to tack, we would arrive (at the sound) at 7am
· 5 knots (easily do-able in decent wind in the right direction) we get there at 5am and wait
· 6 knots (possible given the forecast) we would be even earlier, and would carry on further, with an alternative anchoring option in the northern part of the islands
· 3 knots (has been known) we would need to motor otherwise we miss the window
But, if the wind moves from the east to the north east and we needed to tack, the 40 mile journey becomes 60. We would still be OK if we made 5 knots, any slower and we may need to motor (see above about Helen’s view on this).
At 9pm we departed to a beautiful sunset. Stars came out – always useful as it is horrible steering with nothing to get your bearings. We reefed at about 23:30; it was still just light, we are so far north. Many shooting stars (Perseid shower). The sea was flat and the wind smooth and strong; we put in the other reef later on. Overall a glorious sail. We needed to put in a couple of tacks but arrived off the Sound of Hoy at about 7am. We took the main down as we approached the narrows, and sailed through sideways at over 10 knots, just motoring the last mile or so to berth in Stromness.
Since then we have had a great week being tourists. Unfolded the folding bikes, bought an explorer bus pass and have been touring the sights: Neolithic settlements, WW1/2 defences for Scapa Flow, Old Man of Hoy. An unexpected highlight was the RSPB eagle watch station – they have been watching the first sea eagle chick to hatch here for 140 years, and we were lucky because, although it has just fledged, it still returns to the nest site and happened to be there when we passed by. They say “chick” but it is absolutely huge!
Ventata 