Monday 26th June
Fantastic weather greeted us all in Tobermory as we began our trip. We met up at the HWDT shop on the High Street at 6pm and were introduced to our fellow volunteers for the first time. My colleagues were Jackie and Gordon from Cumbria, Martha from Oxford, Ted from Stockport and Mel from Milton Keynes. We’d been in touch by email for a few days prior to the trip so we already knew a little about each other. Suzie (who wasn’t joining us on this trip) met us at the shop and took us down to Silurian which was moored close by. There we met the Skipper - Dave, 1st Mate - Rob and our Sightings Officer - Laura. We sat down on board a run through of the basics of what we were likely to be doing for the next few days and a guided tour of the boat. Dave told us we have a problem with sex, I was wondering how much information he actually had about us until he pointed out that he actually meant the cabin arrangements. Luckily Jackie and Gordon were happy enough to sleep in separate cabins meaning that the ladies could share a cabin, but it meant that Gordon and Ted had to share a bed! I shared with Mel, but thankfully in separate bunks! Anyway, after a supper of vegetarian cottage/shepherds pie (not sure how to class it!) with green beans, skilfully prepared by Rob, we whizzed over for a couple of small halves at the local boozer (where would possibly make our last sighting of a World Cup game for a few days), before a bit of a late night chat back on deck, (with the odd beer thrown in – I say thrown in, they weren’t actually free!) Ted stayed up to watch the ‘midnight gloaming.’ At this time of year the sky never gets completely dark up here. Quite strange for us ‘southerners’ to see. The rest of us turned in. After sleeping on a futon for 2 years my bunk was luxury! Tuesday 27th June We awoke at around 7am to another glorious day. After breakfast we went through a couple of training sessions on board. Laura took us through the basics of identifying different cetaceans, and how we go about recording this information on computer for later use. We learned about estimating distances and directions of travel of cetaceans and also how to record other animals we see. We would also be recording any sightings of other vessels and their activities as well as sightings of litter in the water. This was followed by Rob taking us on deck and going through the various safety issues involved in yachting. We were kitted out with life jackets and harnesses and were now almost ready to go. All we were waiting for was the vegetables for the galley to be delivered! We motored out of Tobermory at just after midday and weather was beautiful – perfect for spotting cetaceans. After about 30 minutes we saw our first one. A lone Harbour Porpoise appeared a couple of times about 20m from the boat. We all hoped this would be a sign of things to come. We headed around the NW tip of Mull and heard reports via the radio, that there had been sightings of a Basking Shark in the area. Although it isn’t a cetacean we were still eager to see one if we could. Unfortunately it was too shy and we must have passed it by unnoticed. We motored down the south-west coast of Mull and arrived at a group of small islands known as the Treshnish Islands. We went ashore in the dinghy and landed on Lunga. Here we visited the Puffin colony. It was fascinating to see these rather awkward little birds flying out to sea to catch sand eels and returning to feed their nesting young. They struggle to land easily, often toppling over before disappearing into their burrowed holes. Laura suggested that they tolerate humans within a few feet of them possibly because humans form a type of protection from predatory gulls. It may be a sort of symbiotic relationship. We left Lunga and motored SSE towards Staffa with its fascinating geological structures and of course – Fingal’s Cave. Strains of various whistled classical pieces rang through the air, but I’ve got no idea if any of them bore any relation to Mendelssohn’s Hebridean Overture. We then bore south towards Iona travelling through the Sound of Iona toward our evening mooring. At this point I went up into the crow’s nest which afforded fantastic views of the surrounding scenery. It also allowed me to spot one of our few cetaceans – another Harbour Porpoise. Climbing up into the nest reminded me of being a kid and climbing trees. Once up there, you start to worry about how to get down. Thankfully I was allowed down once we’d moored – I had to remind them I was up there, as I think they’d all forgotten about me! The major problem about the Crow’s Nest is that you can’t have tea up there, so you have to look down jealously on your colleagues as they dunk their cookies. The mooring that evening was by the small tidal island of Erraid which is situated by the south-eastern tip of the Sound of Iona. We took the dinghy to the shore and went for an evening walk to one of the high points on the island. Dave the Skipper informed us that it is the most beautiful place in the world and he wasn’t far wrong (he’s probably never been to Worksop though.) It was sunset when we arrived there and the views were spectacular. The entire 360º view gave you a view of distant lands and waters, unfortunately I’d forgotten to bring my camera – typical. Today marked the 38th wedding anniversary of Jackie & Gordon and we celebrated it by sharing their Iona whisky with them! Wednesday 28th June The weather was slightly murkier this morning but it was still quite pleasant so Dave decided we could set off toward the open ocean. It was an early start but Rob, Ted, Gordon and I had to man the dinghy before we did anything else as the anchor was well and truly stuck. I pictured an early bath as the dinghy rocked with our excursions but thankfully it came free without any of us tasting the briny! We headed SW towards the remote lighthouse at Dubh Artach and before long we’d unfurled the sails for the first time. The difference in the feel of the yacht was immediate. The wind became quite strong as we reached the lighthouse, reaching Force 6 at times and the yacht tipped some way to accommodate it. It was really exhilarating as we sped along but needless to say not everyone came through the rough ride unscathed. It takes some of us land-lubbers a bit of time to get our sea legs! From the lighthouse we headed east over the northern tip of Colonsay before heading SSE down the west coast of Jura. Unfortunately by the time we reached our evening mooring in the secluded Loch Tarbert on Jura we were still short on cetaceans. It had been a long day so following a delicious meal cooked for us by Laura and a brief introduction to seabird spotting (sorry for almost nodding off during that Laura!) We turned in early. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I dreamed of seeing a hundred whales on Wednesday.


Thursday 28th June
Welcome to another day of the magical mystery tour of the Silurian! Kind of the writer yesterday not to mention that the female volunteers succumbed first to the dreaded curse of seasickness and spent most of the day slumbering (not entirely peacefully) while the men and Laura rode the waves and Dave and Rob repaired the engine. The weather had calmed down a bit by the time we woke up today. The ladies (?) managed to assume the vertical and even eat a hearty and leisurely breakfast before Dave took us for a walk to the second most beautiful place in the world: a beach on Jura where the pebbles were patterned with lichen and the views were spectacular in all directions. Back on the boat and back on observation. Today we were to use Laura’s introduction to seabird spotting. It all looked very easy when the birds stayed still on the computer and displayed their best profiles. Live ones, however, come from all directions, very fast and often in large numbers. The wind got up, the marks we made with the felt pen washed away and the birds came like a scene from the old Hitchcock film -an awesome display! We saw hundreds, mostly kittiwakes, razorbills and guillemots, but also some spectacular dives by feeding gannets. And did the cetaceans also come in their hundreds? No such luck. Last week’s team had hundreds of sightings, but all the whales, dolphins and porpoises seem to have left the area. Are we jinxed? Do we need to look harder? This does not make us feel comfortable about our skill as observers, but its early days yet. And meanwhile, the weather got worse, the wind louder, the waves higher, the boat rockier. And the cooker broke down. Apparently things are always breaking down on boats. Out came the tools and while Dave and Rob repaired the cooker Martha and Chris refused to leave their posts and enjoyed a wild ride and a thorough soaking. We all had the ride of our lives, except perhaps Dave and Rob who had the cooker in bits all over the kitchen. If these guys ever give up sailing they can make a fortune as repairers of anything. Finally, at 8.00, we arrived at Gigha, cold, wet and cheerful and watched Rob swinging from the bowsprite (nautical term) like an orangutang. He did this in order to tie up the boat to a floating concrete bathplug (not a nautical term). A quick ride on the dinghy landed us in the pub 3 minutes before they stopped serving food. A hot meal and a couple of pints later we crawled gratefully into bed. Tomorrow the weather will be magnificent and we will see hundreds of whales (said she).

Friday 30th June
We woke up to a beautiful sparkling day, the promise of a hot shower and a gentle potter on Gigha. With the water fixed, the engine fixed and the cooker fixed, there was nothing left to go wrong. Skipper opened the trapdoor in the saloon to inspect his engine and pressed the switch for light. Nothing happened. He pressed it again. Still nothing happened. No light in the saloon either, and the skipper’s face was not a happy one. It took great courage on the part of Chris to confess that he might just have turned off the master switch last night. However, confess he did, and fortunately just before Skipper & Rob started to dismantle the electrics. Disaster averted we went for showers and a bit of retail therapy in the village shop, which used to be owned by a Mr MacSporran. I am not making this up: there was a photograph of him hanging up in the shop. It was a grand little shop, too, with fresh strawberries which we will have for pud! Gigha is a lovely island. It is owned by the people who live there and the song written to celebrate the purchase is framed and hung in the pub. It is called “A New Dawn”. The people we met were very friendly and happy to chat. I hope they are thoroughly enjoying owning their beautiful home. We walked on a little beach with soft, white sand and clear turquoise water. Who needs to go to the Maldives? There were wild flowers on the rocks: thrift, stonecrops, thyme, vetches and a lovely little purple flower which I’ve never seen before. Chris found the empty shell of a horseshoe crab and something (otter?) had crunched up a crab for his breakfast on the pontoon. And the sun was shining too. We could have stayed all day, but there was work to do. Surveying today was pottering (sorry, transects) all round the island. The weather was glorious. No need today for lifejackets and lumbering foul weather gear. The sea sparkled and was every colour from deep blue to palest green. The views of Gigha as we surveyed around it were breathtaking. A grand day to be alive and to be on board. Sightings improved, too. No whales yet, but several porpoises and many birds. Work over, there were drinks on deck while the cooks of the day put the finishing touches to the meal. And after that we ate the strawberries. A perfect day, but the weather forecast for tomorrow is not good. Watch this space.


Saturday 1st July
Today was always going to be a conflict of interests. The football addicts were desperate to get to Port Ellen and the nearest available large screen before 4.00. Serious surveying- forget it: this is a big day for England. Those allergic to football pointed out that it could only end in tears and a penalty shoot-out (clairvoyant or what?). Somebody suggested that the game should start with the penalty shoot-out to avoid wasting time. This did not go down well and we set off for Port Ellen as fast as the Silurian could carry us (about 6 knots). Meanwhile, Laura prodded us gently to work. The weather was not good for sightings, but we would try. For entertainment we had Rock & Roll. Winds of force 6/7, very large waves (well they looked large to me) and the boat bouncing, rocking, pitching and slinging quantities of cold water over the hapless observers. We came off observation (weather not suitable for surveying) and went back on. When the ladies were off duty they huddled on deck in what shelter they could find, afraid to go below for fear of the dreaded seasickness. We raised the mizzen and the wind dropped. We lowered it and the wind rose. A strange lethargy came over some of us. I crawled to the bow to find Chris slumped against the mast with his eyes shut. “Any sightings?” I ventured. Ted sat facing the stern, also with his eyes shut. Was this the side-effect of seasick pills? Brain overload from seeing too many waves? Who knows. But for those afflicted it lasted most of the day, with some only reviving in sight of the pub in Port Ellen. It became clear that we would not reach Port Ellen by the appointed hour, and that everyone would have to endure the agonies of the penalty shoot-out on the crackling radio. When the inevitable happened, the misery of the “footies” was truly pitiful to see. In an atmosphere reminiscent of a wake we approached Port Ellen. “What time does the Calmac ferry leave?” said the Skipper and I seriously thought that he was planning to get on it. With the boat still Rocking & Rolling, Ted & Mel did a remarkable imitation of auditioning for the Royal Ballet in the galley. How they cooked up such a fantastic veggie moussaka and roast spuds without hurling it everywhere is beyond me. And to complete today’s spectacular show, Rob repeated his orangutang interpretation to move the boat, this time swinging from the bowsprite for a good 10 minutes while we missed the first concrete bathplug and caught the second one. Awesome. About this time the Skipper & No 1 were spotted departing at speed in the RIB. Had we been abandoned? Who would swing from the bowsprite if the boat broke loose? No worries they returned in time for tea and moved us to a quieter mooring where we could actually step onto dry land. A good dinner and a stroll into Port Ellen for a hot shower and then the pub beckoned with tots of the Firewater of the Month (very strong whiskey with a peaty smell that did bad things to the lining of the nose). And then bed. Oh yes, I forgot the cetaceans. We saw one porpoise all day. Better luck tomorrow!!

Sunday 2nd July
The 2nd July was a special day for us. We had to get up early…very early…and eat breakfast on the move. No time for luxury showers, pass the Marmite, please, or random chats about anything anybody could think might be interesting. It was a matter of beating the currents, tides, winds and everything else nature might throw at us so we could get in a good day’s watching out on the open sea. Enough of this island hopping and coast hugging - it was time to meet our maker – the Blackstone Bank. Theoretically proficient ornithologists, ‘cetaceanists’ and nautical ‘everythingists’, it was time to get on with it. And so we did.

The 2nd July was a special day for me too. It was my birthday. I let it slip in the pre-project email exchanges and was soon fearing the worst, as people kept making references to it, and asking ridiculous questions like ‘How old are you?’. So it was with some nervousness, then, that I poked my salt-encrusted newly-tanned face out of the cabin that morning. Not only was I greeted with a nice cup of tea, but a new name too: ‘Birthday Boy’.

The weather lived up to expectations and the day was long and hard. We got to know our birds. We got to know our jellyfish. We got to know our weather states. But whales? No. We were not getting to know them. Not a beaked sausage. Not even a discarded plastic ‘Come on England’ car flag. Our collective despair and worry were bearing down on us in increasingly large and frequent waves, much worse than anything the sea could throw at us. And…then it happened.

I forgot to say my other name is Gandalf, or that’s what Laura likes to call me. It’s because I have a series of rings on my head where I have collided with the low doors around the boat (which I now realise was built for dwarfs). Very painful. But the name has stuck, unlike my scalp. (In fact every body seems to be evolving into Lord of the Rings characters…more later perhaps.) So…anyway…finally heading back towards Iona, I thought we had all suffered enough. So I struck my staff on the deck of the Silurian and…there they were…the family of Common Dolphin I had spoken to at Islay the night before.. I let Chris notice them first. I felt sorry for him. I have to say my friends were very impressive. Beautiful,

So, as we tucked in to the biggest curry in the world, we all felt very pleased with ourselves. What a surprise. It couldn’t be capped. Two adults and a calf, right beside the boat, staring back at us. And then the lights dimmed. Another surprise. Up from the galley stepped Laura with her version of the Blackstone Rocks. Made from chocolate sponge, and covered with pretty candles, that flickered like miniature lighthouses, it was laid in front of me to a rousing chorus of ‘Happy Birthday, Gandalf’. It was then that I remembered the drop of seawater that had fallen off Gordon’s waterproofs earlier that day. I was still there on the saloon table. I struck my staff again and turned it into a bottle of best Islay Whisky. And that’s all I can recall.

Melvyn Jones (Aged xxx).