Topic: Boating in Scotland: 'We were the only boat on the water and my life was co*plete.' (Read 6 times)
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Day 2:
Coll, Muck, Loch Sunart
The wind was due to be south-westerly 8-9mph and lifting during the day. I wanted to visit Fingal’s cave on the isle of Staffa, one of the UK’s natural wonders and a hideout of Bonnie Prince Charlie during his failed attempt to seize the English crown. Staffa lies about 5nm off Mull’s West coast and some 25nm from Tobermory.
My best mate, Sheddy,who also happens to be my wife, agreed to co*e along and see what I’ve been harping on about all these years. Photo: Ian Furby
There’s no lee from a south-westerly on that side of Mull but I figured if we made Staffa before the wind lifted, we could then turn tail, putting the sea behind us, and head for Coll. Having paid our dues we slipped lines and were underway by 9am.
We steamed north at 30 knots before rounding Mull’s northern shore and turning south-west for Staffa into the wind. It was very lumpy and not helped by the tide ripping past the point. This was supposed to be a leisurely trip not a feat of endurance. Sheddy went very quiet.
Fearing that if I continued with this, I might not have a crew for the rest of the trip, I made an about turn and headed NW to Coll in the hopes of finding some lee and visiting some of its amazing white sandy beaches.
Unfortunately, the going remained unco*fortable. We were taking a pounding and getting wet so I turned due north, putting the sea behind us and rounding Coll to the NE. This was definitely more co*fortable and before long we nosed into the first idyllic beach through gin clear water. I was hoping we could go ashore but the tide was mid ebb and the weather didn’t lend itself to a romantic walk.
Their new Nordkapp 605 is faster and more efficient than their previous 550. Photo: Ian Furby
Our day was rapidly going south. I needed to get ashore, find a coffee and go for a walk. As luck would have it I knew of a coffee shop on Muck.
Muck lies 10nm NE off Coll so with the sea and wind behind us we made for Port Mor on Muck. Forty minutes later we were tied up to a rickety pontoon, damaged in a recent storm, and ashore we went. Muck is the smallest of the inner islands and has a massive population of… 38!
It was midday, and the Tea Room didn’t open until 12:30pm so we went for a short but very pleasant walk enjoying the views and chatting to some of the very tame locals, the sheep, before heading over to the tearoom. What an amazing cosy little place it was – a couple of coffees later and feeling fully restored, it was time to go.
The direct route home would without doubt be an unpleasant fight into a head sea so I aimed for the mainland, which was 5nm away, to find some shelter. The plan worked well until we rounded Ardnamurchan point, which brought us back into the onco*ing sea. It was still early afternoon and I had one last chance to save the day so I made a beeline for Loch Sunart on the opposite shore to Tobermory.
Powering along a mirror calm Loch Linnhe towards Fort William. Photo: Ian Furby
Being narrow and running west to east it’s nearly always calm. Sure enough, the further we ventured up its narrow inlet the calmer the sea became. About 7nm into the loch we tied up to the small pontoon in Salen Bay on the northern shore.
Salen is like the land that time forgot. We walked up to the village store, which looked more like a Canadian log cabin, checked we were ok to leave the boat for a while, and carried on up the road for another ten minutes, past tin shacks and a proper old telephone box to The Salen Hotel, one of the most remote but friendly pubs you’ll ever find.
A couple of beers later and it was time to head back to Tobermory. Thankfully the sea had backed right off and less than an hour later we were back in our hotel, showered, changed and ready for a truly superb supper at The Cafe Fish on the quay – the day had officially been saved!
Another day, another glorious view, this time from the Western Isles Hotel in Tobermory. Photo: Ian Furby
Day 3:
Staffa, Ulva, Calgary Bay
Looking out over the bay to light rain and a sea fret was not the start I was hoping for. We were heading home the next day so I had one last throw of the dice to make Staffa.
Thankfully, the wind was due to drop during the day with the sun breaking out late afternoon, so we had a leisurely breakfast before heading down to the pontoons.
The Corran ferry where Loch Linnhe narrows to a bottleneck. Photo: Ian Furby
Four big RIBs had just co*e in from Muck and as I’d hoped, the news was good; the sea had flattened. We might just make Staffa yet. The rain duly dried up and just before midday we were underway on close to glassy seas. A small pod of porpoises briefly appeared ro raise our spirits further.
Just over an hour and 24nm later we were looking into Fingal’s Cave. It was too lumpy to get ashore on the stone jetty so after a good potter round in the boat we headed East for Ulva.
I’d not been to Ulva before but I had researched the area and discovered a restaurant called The Boat House, next to a jetty on its south-eastern shore. The tide was on full ebb when we entered the Sound of Ulva, fortunately it was gin clear with a sandy bottom, so with Sheddy rock-spotting on the bow as we edged our way in, we made it to the stone jetty just in time for lunch. We ordered inside then sat outside on picnic benches in sight of Six O Five.
Ian’s chartplotter tracks their progress up the narrow loch. Photo: Ian Furby
After a very pleasant lunch it was time to get underway again, continuing north. The channel has a small island in the middle with routes on either side. The one to the north has a lowest chart datum of 0m, to the south it was 1.1m but littered with rocks. Caught between a rock and hard place, we opted for the south side, edging slowly along for a tense 15 mins before reaching deeper water. In the distance we could see a waterfall cascading into the sea off Mull.
We pulled into Calgary Bay for a brief look at its famously pristine white beach before continuing on with Mull to starboard. The first mate then decided she wanted to check out The Bellachroy Hotel at the end of Loch a’ Chumhainn, in Dervaig. The passage was narrow, shallow and full of rocks, but the tide was now rising and it couldn’t be any worse than Ulva so I agreed to give it a bash.
And that’s exactly what I did, catching the outboard on a rock. Bugger! Once in deeper water I tilted up the engine and thought I’d got way with it until I spotted a small but visible chip in my skeg. I’m a bit (very) OCD about my boats and it hurt. Badly.
Ian Furby
Well, nowt I could do about it now and very much in need of a beer, we steamed back to Tobermory as the sun finally made an appearance. We’d been out just over four hours and other than ‘skeg gate’ it had been a fantastic day. I nipped off and got some tinnies and we spent a couple of hours just kicking back on board and watching the sun sink lower in the sky.
When it finally dropped behind a hill, we headed back to the hotel for supper. The thing is you’ve got to pass several pubs on the way so we never made it back in time and ended up eating in The Mishnish, still in our oillies, before staggering back to our bed.
Day 4:
Home, via Fort William
Rather than heading straight to Dunstaffnage and home, we swung sharp to port at the bottom of the Sound and fired up Loch Linnhe towards Fort William. We weren’t far into the loch when that rarest of things happened. The sea hadn’t just turned to glass, it had beco*e a vast mirror so smooth and perfect that you’d struggle to discern reflection from reality.
Fingal’s Cave where Bonnie Prince Charlie was said to have hidden. Photo: Ian Furby
We were the only boat on the water, I had the hammer down at 44 knots and my life was co*plete. If I didn’t boat again all season, I wouldn’t care.
However, as I’m a Yorkshireman and I didn’t want the experience to end prematurely, I eased her back to the mid 30s and glanced at Sheddy, who was wearing an equally giddy grin.
We slowed down briefly to negotiate the bottleneck where the Corran ferry crosses and tidal eddies start to form, before speeding back up for the final 7nm to Fort William under the shadow of Ben Nevis, snow still clinging to its northern slopes.
Shortly after we tied up to the visitor pontoon at Fort William and paid our dues in the honesty box. We stretched our legs, grabbed a coffee and some grub, then sat on a bench in the sun overlooking the loch. It was idyllic. Sadly, we still had 30nm to steam and a boat to recover before trailing it back to Yorkshire.
The view from The Boat House restaurant on the Isle of Ulva. Photo: Ian Furby
Back aboard we reversed our transit towards the bottom of Linnhe before veering to port. Detouring only briefly to check out Castle Stalker, we powered on back to Dunstaffnage.
The fun wasn’t quite over yet. The tide was ripping out through the marina, doing about Mach 10 on our nose, so we had to co*e in quick with enough momentum to reach the pontoon but without bashing it. Mercifully, I nailed it and we were soon tied up, having enjoyed an epic day’s boating. By 3pm the boat was back on the trailer and heading south again.
It had been a fantastic trip; 240nm covered, amazing food and scenery. Best of all, Sheddy loved it and is keen to do more boating together as a couple. The Western Isles had worked their magic once again.
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