Friday promises strongish southerlies, but today suggests some south easterly, at least at the start of the afternoon.

The south going tide starts around 2 so we decide to see if we can have a decent sail down to Ullapool. Safe to say, the forecasts are not entirely  accurate… the promised winds from anywhere east of South fail to materialise, in fact almost any wind remains a forlorn hope as we motor out into the Minch into a seascape of several shades of grey…and not even the slightly racy shades…. This is more like Rothko in his latter years, when he eschewed colour for huge canvases,  entirely filled with blocks of varying greys and black. We assume he must have spent time up here. But the internet does not confirm our suspicions.

From time to time we are taunted by a glimmer of a lighter shade of grey, and a moments pause in the drizzle.  In the summer, this craggy coastline must be beautiful ….oh….this is summer. The mist hangs low but starkly beautiful  over the craggy tops…

Never mind, we always enjoy the ride, despite the fact that even the usually reliable guillemots don’t bother to keep us company,  just the occasional grumpy cormorant.

Actually,  the sky brightens as we turn into Loch Broom, and we start to see a few more boats, and the CalMac ferry nosing out as we make our final approach.

Ullapool looks quite appealing,  but for us tonight, no room on the pontoon so we pick up a mooring buoy. As the rain comes down the valley once more, we decide that the bright lights and booze ashore can wait. A trip across in the dinghy is less appealing than gin, dinner and being gently rocked…

Footnote…despite the apparent lack of excitement from the writer of this, we are still really happy and content on the old girl….better than being among the huddled masses of campervans lining the shore…