Lindesfarne provides a sheltered anchorage between Eyemouth and Newcastle, in the shadow of Holy Island and adjacent to an enormous colony of grey seals. The seals kept up a continuous sighing, moaning sound for the duration of our visit, which was rather eerie. At night we could hear their noisy snuffling close to the boat, and were disturbed by one of them swimming into the rudder at midnight, giving us a real clunk.
On a sunny and blustery day we kayaked ashore to walk around the island, alternately scrambling up and down the sand dunes and sitting on the shoreline to watch the world go by. Despite being well aware of the tidal nature of the island, we were almost caught out on the trip back. We were distracted by the dozen or so seals that came out to investigate us and didn’t notice how far down-tide we were being carried in the kayak. A furious paddle was required to regain the distance to Ventata, the seals making light work of keeping up with us. Thought they might have offered us a tow! However, some of them were pretty big so on balance we were happy they didn’t come any closer. Wikipedia suggests they live up to 35 years and adults weigh 200-300kg. (Note to check that rudder when we get back.)
The next anchorage, at Amble, was decidedly less comfortable. We had decided not to go in to the marina so anchored off the sandy beach and rolled around for the following 8 hours in the persistent swell. We watched a yacht approach the marina, fenders ready, and change its mind after seeing us – it went slightly further up the coast to anchor. We hope they didn’t blame us for a rather sleepless night…
Our arrival at Newcastle coincided with preparations for the Great North Run and the last few days of the Great Exhibition of the North. We had a pleasant day wandering around the city centre and admiring the many bridges over the Tyne. However, the Baltic art exhibition was, oh dear, just dreadful (to our taste anyway). The building redeemed itself with a mirror at the bottom and top of the stairwell that created an illusion of infinite height and depth – vertigo-inducing even when on the ground floor.
Royal Quays marina had the most luxurious facilities we have experienced since Ireland. We had expected Port Edgar marina, near Edinburgh, to be similar but it currently resembles a building site, with a half-mile walk to the facilities across an unlit assault course. However, whereas Port Edgar sits in the quaint and attractive village of Queensferry, Royal Quays has all the advantages supplied by North Shields. In spite of this, our stay at Royal Quays was so pleasant that we had a bit of a motivation failure when it came to leaving. The tide times dictated an early start and we had intended to get through the loch and lie on the waiting pontoon pending a 2am departure. But when it came to time to move, we agreed we just couldn’t be bothered. We had a bath instead, and a cup of tea in the marina bar.
With a later departure, we didn’t have time to get to Whitby before the water ebbed and we headed into Hartlepool instead. This has proved a mixed blessing. On the plus side, there is a cinema within sight of the marina, so we got to see Tom Cruise playing Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible Fallout, as well as HMS Trincomalee, a wonderfully restored 48 gun Royal Naval frigate, on Helen’s birthday. It was less fun trying to follow the route of the English Coastal Path: the path was disjointed, badly signposted and covered in dog poo. Too much high security fencing for an urban area, buildings near the football club have protective screening over their windows and there is dog poo everywhere: this is “not an entirely harmonious community”, as Alex put it. Did I mention the dog poo? A shame, as the woodland and rolling farmland were rather pretty once we got past the “keep out” signs.
Ventata 