Date: Tuesday 24^th April 2007

Anchorage: Bunessan

Position: 56° 19’.200N 006° 14’.900W

Distance Travelled: 57 NM

Clyde coastguard on the VHF was warning of a “gale, force 8, perhaps severe gale 9 later” as we lay in the magnificent desolation of Loch Tarbert, Jura. But it was a mild morning and there was evidence of blue sky on the Western horizon, so we tentatively poked the Silurian’s bowsprit out beyond loch entrance, and found an ocean of glassy ripples (sea state1.5 on the Beaufort Scale). So we ventured on, intending to at least do a circumnavigation of the nearby islands of Colonsay and Oronsay before scuttling back to Loch Tarbert if necessary before the force 9 hit.

We were not long out when a bird appeared on the water that looked just a bit too big to be the usual guillemot, razorbill, or even eider duck. Hurried consultation among the twitchers on board established that it was diver - but was it a black throated or great northern? The science officer confirmed it as a great northern, though several black throated ones did turn up later in the day.

Then there was our first sighting this trip of a manx shearwater, and then another and another, and then clouds of them. These distinguish themselves from many other common seabirds by their skilful banking and gliding just above the waves, interspersed by short bursts of manic flapping, behaviour which the science officer was able to mimic very convincingly.

Lots of birds - razorbills, guillemots, kittiwakes, shags, puffins, shearwaters, fulmars, and even a great skua – were logged throughout the day, making us wonder just how much we’d missed in the previous days of wind, drizzle and choppy seas.

At midday, the sea state was still 1.5 and someone suggested that this might be an opportunity for any suitably enthusiastic volunteers to experience life in the crow’s nest. Ian was subsequently hoisted aloft, and stayed there for several hours, even having lunch up there, in the shape of a bacon buttie, delivered personally by the skipper.

Lisa volunteered next and found the experience totally exhilarating especially the completely different perspective it presented of the boat, the ocean and the wildlife.

Early afternoon and there was still no sign of the predicted gale, so skipper proposed a change of plan which involved venturing ten miles on into the open Atlantic, rounding the Dubh Artach lighthouse, and then turning North to seek a safe haven for the night behind the Ross of Mull.

And it was on our way to Dubh Artach that we spotted our very first cetacean of the trip –a harbour porpoise, which broke the surface100 meters to starboard, and gave us several tantalising glimpses of itself before disappearing astern, leaving a satisfying trail of red triangles (=porpoise clicks)on the acoustic record. An hour or so later, there was another one, but this time it broke the surface enough times for everyone to see it.

Dubh Artach was awesome. As we rounded it, less than half a mile off, an undiluted Atlantic swell was breaking over the evil-looking reefs surrounding this desolate little beacon, throwing massive clouds of spray high into the air, and creating a permanent mist around the lighthouse itself.

An hour later we were presented with a similar spectacle among the notorious Torran Rocks – scene of the shipwreck in RL Stevenson’s Kidnapped. Mat the mate, assisted by the chart plotter and the skipper in the crow’s nest, brought us safely through these, and then close in to see the extraordinary pink granite cliffs of Erraid Island (which also features in Kidnapped). And then on through the Sound of Iona, to a sheltered anchorage in Loch Na Lathaich, and a terrific Hungarian-themed, paprika-spiced dinner courtesty of Bela and Lisa.

Ted

Date: Monday 23rd April 2007

Anchorage: Loch Tarbert, Jura

Position: 55° 57’.500N 005° 54’.900W

Distance Travelled: 46 NM

Got underway at about 0915, a little later than planned as it proved more difficult than expected to retrieve all 3 anchors. In the end we had to leave the third to the team in the RIB – the seal sitting, watchfully, on a neighbouring rock, seemed pretty non-plussed throughout! Perhaps it’s got particularly high standards of seamanship.

Set off down Loch Sween, streaming the hydrophone and posting lookouts – but it was hard to see anything given the steady rain and wind (Force 5/6). Once we reached the open sea, we set sail and turned the engine off (for the first time this week!) heading south into the wind, destination Gigha where we understand there is a pub (a great relief, as we remain concerned about the risk of dehydration). The latest weather forecast, which threatens Southerly winds of up to Force 9 tomorrow, does however force a change of plan so we ease the sheets and head off towards Islay, destination Loch Tarbert. The rain remains pretty steady, making it hard going for the lookouts who see nothing. We do however get some good porpoise detections on the hydrophone. Whilst cetaceans are clearly making themselves hard to see, the birds are more cooperative and we see our first puffin of the trip, as well as wonderful displays by fulmars swooping low over the waves.

The sailing remains excellent as we surf downwind in the Force 6/7 breeze (with gusts to Force 8) in much reduced sail, seeing more birds (especially black guillemots) but nothing much else. The rain eases a bit as we pass down the Sound of Islay, giving us a good view of the rather quaint-looking Port Askaig, and two distilleries … pity we couldn’t stop!

All too soon, its time to strike sail and put the engine on again, ready to navigate the tortuous inlet to Loch Tarbert (said to be the second most beautiful place on earth - and we were not to be disappointed). We did a quick tour of the Loch before anchoring – mainly to confirm that we were indeed alone in this wonderful place – we were, except for the birds and a grey seal.

After anchoring most of us went ashore for a walk, and were treated to wonderful views as the sun at last broke through, really bringing the contrasting colours of the landscape alive. The stark, bleak, landscape, with its wonderful geological features including ‘raised beaches, was truly something to behold – the browns and greens of the land mixing with the blues of the sky and the water. Even the recent rains helped add to the magic of the moment, as we walked past a large waterfall over which flowed a torrent of brown water – rich with peat.

The sun remained with us as the evening drew to a close, albeit losing its strength before sunset – a pity, but perhaps that experience is being deliberately saved for another day.

On reflection, another wonderful day – no sign of cetaceans (other than on the hydrophone), but some good bird sightings, great sailing, and an idyllic anchorage to bring the day to a close.

Ian

Date: Sunday 22nd April 2007

Anchorage: Fairy Isles, Loch Sween

Position: 56° 01’.700N 005° 35’.500W

Distance Travelled: 49 NM

Well I get to write the blog today and since I’m used to writing dry, technical material I feel quite challenged to wax poetic…but I will do my best. Today started out quite well since we found a family of seals cavorting along the side of the boat this morning. Ted and Ian got first watch on the deck while Dad and I had to watch for birds (which are very easy to distinguish from one another since they all seem to be white and grey or white and black) and listen to the hydrophone. Unfortunately, all the marine mammals decided to sleep in so we didn’t actually see any for quite a few hours. However, to keep our spirits up the crew plied us with food and tea (and apparently my no-tea stance has caused some members of the team to despair of my sanity – later on my disparaging remarks about potatoes caused even more consternation).

The weather today was actually quite nice – we had some rain on and off but by the end of the day the clouds starting lifting and it was quite warm. Although we didn’t see anything other than seals and birds we still had a lot of fun – just being on the water is fun – plus we got to see some beautiful wild and remote places in Scotland.

The best part of the day was when we moored in an absolutely beautiful place called the Fairy Isles. If you have an idea in your head of what you think Scotland looks like, this is it. Ted and I cooked a delicious dinner of moussaka and broccoli and then we took the boat to one of the islands. We hiked along a bike path that led through birch forests and moss covered rocks – and we were lucky enough to have a tawny owl fly by right in front of us. Then, since it’s Scotland, it started raining again so we went back to the boat. Right now, to hydrate ourselves we are all partaking of mineral water and listening to CDs. All in all, it beats work!

Lisa