Morning in Lossie is bright and clear and Heydays is calm and restful in the early sun.

The fruit has been looking at us balefully for a few days now and we decide that we ought to eat some of it. Breakfast is a positively healthy affair given recent meals in which variations on haddock have played a significant part….smoked, fried, in bradies, in pies and with cream as skink.

The bus to Elgin is easy as it is a circular route… ‘ye canna gae wrong’. Except we do as we get on the bit that starts with a fascinating tour of the Lossiemouth council estates (never-ending pebble dash) followed by a tour of the Elgin estates…(more ~*@% pebble dash). Elgin itself has a kind of lost grandeur, but has become like so many towns, a mix of big chains (the only coffee is Starbucks or Costa) and poundlands.

Gordon (of India) imposes on the town, as does a (rather effete to our eyes) warrior with a sword….we have been unable to find out who he is or was.

The SNP are out in force and we wonder idly why they are there and yet no-one seems to be making the emotional case for the union…. It is also a town which provokes grumpy old men in to wondering why the bus station is on the exact opposite side of town to the rail station.

The train to Inverness was packed with a motley bunch of schoolgirl hen party, Saturday shoppers and teenagers out to impress….plus three elderly sassenachs. Paul resists the temptation to join three  schoolgirls in the loo! We stood all the way but were impressed with another old bloke in a black goth T shirt with ‘Sons of Arthritis – Inverness Chapter’ in big friendly letters.

Inverness has the feel of a bohemian city including an impressive Victorian market. Despite the odd juxtaposition of classical Victorian architecture jarring against heavy modernist concrete, we have an abiding and unanswered question…why does it manage to support so many barbers, Turkish Barbers and wet shaves? We wander off down the river and have lunch in the Waterside Arms on Egg Bap with potato scone for James, and Bacon Haggis and Potato scone for John and Paul.

The Ness is beautiful even though we can’t see the ‘plentiful salmon’. A dolphin breaks surface and we marvel at the  idea of not seeing a dolphin for hours at sea, and yet with the council estate behind us we see one swimming lazily up and down catching his lunch.

The view across the firth to the snow capped hills beyond is a magnificent backdrop to the city and we wend our way down the early stages of the canal before heading back.

We find ourselves in a rather artistic quarter with a fantastic old bookshop in the old Gaelic Kirk,

…a music venue called Iron Works which we sadly don’t have time to visit and a great pub and micro brewery called Black Isle Bar. It does great beer and great pizzas too and is packed. We ponder on the fact that we have seen too many empty soulless bars selling fizzy beer and peanuts and yet when someone does good nosh and good booze the punters will come.

Back in Elgin we miss the bus to Lossie and take a taxi instead.  Rum and a trio of Scottish cheese and chutney round off a perfect day. We even find some Orkadian fiddle to get our cultural juices flowing. The weather is set fair for a few days so our plans are to stay here one more day before heading ever more north towards Wick and our destiny with the Pentland Firth.

Footnote. It wouldn’t be Paul if we didn’t round the evening off with some Grateful Dead…So Many Roads (to ease my soul)…the very last of Jerry Garcia…

 

Breakfast this morning on Whitehills Smokies from the local shop and smokery, with poached eggs on top. The Whitehills smokies are not quite as strong as the Arbroath smokies, but still have great flavour and set us up for the day.

An ‘old boy’ in his old boat is going aground to dry out and antifoul and we offer to take lines etc. but he resolutely refuses all offers of help and soon has his boat balanced nicely on its single keel. He is a great example of an unhurried and easy approach to sailing which we can only hope to emulate (in our later years!!).

We say goodbye to Bertie and a memorable stay in the harbour which he runs on behalf of the community…what a great advert for real community ownership and action. We slide off the pontoon at noon and head out for Lossiemouth just 25 miles away to the west. With a forecast SW wind we are hoping for some decent sailing before rounding Scar Nose. Sadly the wind has too much west in it and we end up motoring gently along the coast accompanied by the ever present cormorants and terns. We are hoping for some dolphins or porpoises for company but none of them want to play with us at the moment sadly. We tick off the settlements along the way including Cullen with a stunning viaduct…

…and finally Scar Nose. The headland is a fantastic jumble of rocks with a great sweeping arch and some caves as well. It is distinctive from all directions…in broad daylight, but clearly not to be messed with in poor visibility or at night.

No sooner are we past old Scar Nose than we are heading out across Spey Bay for Lossie at the far side, which is just a distant lump on the horizon. The wind stays resolutely on the nose and freshens to gusts of over 25kt. Heydays ploughs on through a short swell and chop more reminiscent of the solent than the North Sea. There is not another soul or boat in sight, and wrapped up in thermals and plenty of layers, we can relish the sharp wind and the feeling of real adventure in northern waters.

True to form, the wind freshens again as we are about to make our final approach to Lossiemouth. Fenders out on all sides and rope from every available cleat become redundant, as once inside the wind is zero and we are soon tied up on the visitors pontoon. Although we look less like intrepid sons of the sea and more like Last of the Summer Wine on tour…

The instructions for when the harbour office is shut tell us to collect keys and a welcome pack from the Steamboat Inn. This is clearly something of a chore and we set off with what some may say is indecent haste to the pub. It turns out to be somewhat lairy at 5.30 on Friday evening and we keep well clear of some ‘differences of opinion’ going on. So clear in fact that we go to another pub entirely….passing a stunning beach and dunes which we seemed to miss completely on the way in.

Our experience so far of Scottish pubs is a bit variable it has to be said. Real beer and even some live local music is escaping us at the moment, but an excellent Indian cheers everything up…and we’ve got some open wine on Heydays to finish off.

Footnote…the tumble dryer does not suggest particularly good value for more than a pair of knickers…

 

The  berth on the end of the hammerhead rocked us gently through the night (although still no bedtime stories) and Thursday dawned bright and fresh. We had planned a leisurely breakfast before putting Heydays into the dry dock, but Bertie recommends us going aground sooner rather than later as the tide was ‘dull’. We thought that was a bit harsh until we realised that dull is a local word for close to neaps. We managed to get Heydays in position without any of the drama of the previous afternoon and hopefully improved our reputation in Bertie’s eyes at least. However a passing local caught us in the classic act of throwing a line successfully to the boat…only for the bitter end to also follow it!

While we wait for the ‘dull’ tide to recede, we take a walk round town and get seduced by the smoked haddock and cheese bradies (pasties if you’re Cornish) in Downies fish shop, which we have for lunch back on the boat.

The marina loan us the power washer and it takes less than an hour to have Heydays with a clean bottom. The fouling up here is certainly less than we have found in warmer waters. It is too cold to paint the antifoul at the moment and we will leave it for a warmer month. The rest of the afternoon is spent on a walk around Boyndie Bay almost to Banff. The light up here is stunning with big skies and sharp contrasts just demanding photos.

We watch a pair of cormorants drying off on a rock and slightly unkindly wait for a breaker to knock one off…oddly they see them coming!

Bertie fills us in on the local industry which is inevitably fish, but small harbours like Whitehills, which used to be able to sustain themselves and fish stocks by using boats for line fishing and seine netting, have seen their livelihoods destroyed by modern Trawlers landing 1000 tonnes at a time. Most of the local boats are now part-time only and the crews have other jobs…mostly servicing the rigs.

The log fire in the Seafield arms tempts us in once more but we refrain from too much booze as we think about the vertical and slippery iron ladder down the side of the dock to get back on Heydays. The chippy does a starter of kedgeree and rather unwisely we have a bowl each before our regular haddock chips and mushy peas. The waitress is slightly amused as we refuse syrup pudding to follow.

Heydays refloats at 8 and we are back on our berth with a glass of wine by 9.30.

 

Now listening for Cromarty having left the balmy southern waters of Forth behind us, Rattray Head becons as another of those (to us) remote and slightly forbidding headlands to be rounded. We head out from Peterhead into a roughish swell (just right for our first sail of the season!) and the wind as predicted on the nose. Clear of the harbour and out to the 30m depth contour (as suggested by Brian and Anne) and we can bear away into a much calmer sea. Heydays comes alive again as we hoist the sails for the first time in 2017 and soon Peterhead is just a distant memory with Rattray Head coming up fast.

 

We round the headland and Heydays slips up a gear as we get a brisk F4 on the beam and feel the effects of the tide sweeping us west in the welcome (but weak) sun. Its cold! We tick off the settlements and headlands along the coast including Pennan and some rugged coast reminiscent of Cornwall.

We get safely through the bombing range off Troup Head and start to look for Knock Head which marks our turn into Whitehills. We call Bertie the Harbourmaster at Whitehills as Macduff comes off the beam. Clouds are beginning to threaten and build and we idly wonder if we’ll make it in before the inevitable squall comes. We lose the main and make our final approach under genny alone before it too is furled and there’s Bertie at the end of the pier to meet us and direct us in, taking pictures all the while.

The view from the sea was not entirely reassuring…!

A strongish swell, close rocks and a sharp left turn add to the excitement, as the first few drops of icy rain start to spatter the deck.

 

Bertie jogs along the outer harbour wall and directs us to the final sharp left and onto the end pontoon…just as the squall strikes with surprising venom and sleet. A controlled, experienced and even nonchalant approach to the pontoon ends with Heydays being blown violently away and Bertie and another willing local sailor sprinting to take lines before we end up being pinned to the harbour wall. A fair amount of heaving, leaping and straining and we are finally alongside, promising huge amounts of cash to Bertie not to publish the embarrassing evidence. The squall is over as quickly as it came and we tidy up the boat in the last of the day’s sun. Bertie continues in the tradition of incredibly helpful and friendly people we have met as we have sailed north and will get everything sorted for us as we prepare to scrub accumulated gunge off Heydays’ bottom tomorrow. He has also been taking pictures from headland and is kind enough to give us the disc from his camera so we can load them up directly.

Dinner and the odd pint in the Seafield Arms on Cullen Skink and trio of fish alongside a log fire…what more do we need?

 

The night sleeper seems like a throw-back to the old days of Agatha Christie and an altogether more gentle way of travelling. Being met by smart men in long coats and a real engine (sadly not steam) adds to the romance…but its only John Paul and James this time. The evening is spent in the lounge on board and Paul fantasises about pea soup and crisp linen napkins. Mostly we satisfy ourselves with beer, scotch and a rather fine cheese board. We rock off gently to sleep somewhere around Grantham, although the steward declined to tuck us in with a bedtime story. He does however wake us soothingly enough with coffee and fresh juice about 40 minutes before Aberdeen. By the time we heave ourselves onto the platform the train is down to just 5 carriages having presumably lost the others around Edinburgh.

 

The boat is fine and we hank on the genoa and find somewhere to store provisions for what is apparently an imminent Armageddon. Once again our friends Brian and Anne from Skoling have done a great job looking after Heydays and even treat us to lunch. We shamelessly suck them dry of any local info about routes, tides and harbours and local currents and eddys. A day of poring over weather forecasts suggests that it is likely to be bumpy for the trip around Rattray Head and wintery showers will add to the fun.

 

This bit is probably more of interest to our sailing readers…

The plan is to take Heydays up to Wick and then over to Stromness on the Orkneys. Just a little matter of the tides, currents, skerries and general nastiness of the Pentland Firth. Timing the crossing in a small boat is crucial and the various almanacs, cruising guides and sailing directions are full of dire warnings which don’t exactly sit on the fence…

Tide flows strongly around and through the Orkney Islands. The Pentland Firth is a dangerous area for all craft, tidal flows reach 12kn between Duncansby Head and S Ronaldsay…. Tidal streams reach 8-9kn at sp in the Outer Sound, and 9-12kn between Pentland Skerries and Duncansby Hd. The resultant dangerous seas, very strong eddies and violent races should be avoided by yachts at all costs.

Our original plan was to sail round to Macduff to scrub Heydays bottom and treat her to some antifoul and then get up to Wick by 26^th March. This would have taken us across the Pentland Firth at 5/7 Springs…just about do-able according to the tide and current predictions on ‘AnyTide’ and Navionics. However, Reeds Almanac and the Cruising Association both suggest much stronger tides (due in part to the ‘super springs’ at the end of the month). Wise counsel (John) and the fact that we are doing this for fun not a dare, finally persuades us to take a more relaxed cruise along the coast up to Wick and then cross the Firth nearer the neaps at the start of April. Paul will join us, but our wives have elected to fly straight to Orkney!!

Our aim is still to spend some time in Orkney and then get Heydays over to the West Coast (Stornaway, Kinlochbervie…ish) by end April ready for 4-6 weeks in the Western Isles, gradually working our way south.

 

This is our first posting of 2017 as we prepare for the next few stages of our voyage around the (still) United Kingdom. The winter months were spent in doing some upgrades and general maintenance with the key result being that we now have proper heating to all cabins. We went for a multi-fuel gas and electric unit in the end with great support from Propex in Ringwood….toasty, even in a Scottish winter.

Something we have all noted as we have progressed further north is the amazing community and generosity of the people we have met along the way.  This may be because you have to be so much more committed to sailing than in the easier waters of the south. So many people have kept an eye on Heydays through the worst of the winter storms; tightening mooring lines, checking for chafe and reassuring emails and calls following the latest gale. Special thanks must go to Brian and Anne on their Sholing called Skoling. They know these waters well and have sailed extensively all around the Scottish coast including the Orkneys, Shetland and several trips over to Norway. Two days across the North Sea puts our cross-channel to Cherbourg in the shade. Partly as a result of talking to them, as well as more reading, we have upgraded our ground tackle…it would be such a shame to miss out on some beautiful anchorages and just stick to easy marinas.

With the addition of two huge fenders and doubling all the mooring lines together with chafe protectors, sees Heydays smelling and looking sweet despite what the weather has thrown. Even our ‘sitter-outer’ (Scottish for cockpit cover) has stayed intact!

Although the Marina is a way out of town, it would be a shame for visitors to miss Peterhead. True it is not the cultural or gastronomic capital, but the coast is stunning, including some fishing villages clinging to seemingly impossible cliffs. We can only wonder at the hardiness of the locals in centuries gone by as they made a living from the sea without any of the modern things we take for granted like warm and waterproof clothes, heating on boats and even reliable engines. We spent a fair few nights at Weatherspoons in town…always a selection of real ales and the Dolphin Cafe on the harbour tempted us too often for Cullen Skink and amazingly fresh Haddock. We also splashed out a couple of times at the Kilmarnock Arms at Crudden Bay and at the Buchan Braes in Boddam.

 

The folk here are very friendly and although this is not the most picturesque of places, it is very tempting to stay. All of us need to be back in the south over the next few weeks and we spend some time cleaning and washing,

but we resolve to keep Heydays here for a while and come back from time to time to explore the little harbours and distilleries of North East Scotland in whatever autumn cruising we can get.

The Peterhead lifeboat moors up next to us while the crew do some training and exercises by jumping into the water to be rescued. Ally, the full time mechanic on board, shows us round the Tamar class boat with its twin 18L 1000HP engines. We are immensely grateful to the RNLI and their utter dedication to all of us foolish enough to put to sea for whatever reason.

 

We had hoped to catch the early morning (3am) tide ot of Arbroath, but the lock keeper doesn’t open up until 11.30. With a 12 hour sail to Peterhead and some foul tide potentially making it longer, we prepare ourselves for half a night sail. Chris is off into town to buy a suitable baking dish and by the time she returns Yee Tak has a pasta bake ready for the oven. As the lock opens we wave goodbye to Dave and Pam and the family and the pasta comes out ready to be heated later for our evening meal at sea.

The coast here is spectacular (allegedly) but we only catch glimpses as most of it is shrouded in coastal mist. Out to sea there is bright sun and clear skies and we make the most of the opportunity to stretch out with the autohelm doing most of the real work. Gannets are our constant companions and they wheel and soar around the boat, just skimming the waves with impunity.

Hot pasties for lunch with sun and a fair wind…what could lift the spirits more?

As we approach Aberdeen we see at least 10 large boats heading directly for us. We alter course to pass behind the closest but it seems to take an age to pass, meanwhile the others are getting closer and threading our way through them in the wrong direction would seem to be an act of folly. A pilot boat comes zooming out of the river and then it dawns on us…they are all at anchor! We resume our course with some relief and start to feel the welcome tide turn in our favour. Heydays is almost surfing down the waves at 7kts and we have over a knot of tide. This is almost reckless speed for us, but it brings our eta at Peterhead down to before midnight instead of the early hours of the morning.

The forecasts begin to talk of fronts coming over and the settled easterlies of recent days turning to strong south westerlies…perhaps Peterhead will be as far as we get this time.

The sun sinks lower in the sky and the hot pasta bake tastes like a gourmet meal against the rising moon. We manage to disturb a flock of roosting birds who take off angrily, probably wondering why of all of the bits of sea in all the oceans in all the world we have to sail through theirs (or maybe Gannets don’t watch old movies) …

Peterhead shows up like a Christmas tree from well over 10 miles off and we watch the Buchan Ness lighthouse sink astern in the dying light. Soon we can just make out the entrance lights to guide us in and we negotiate past fishing boats and oil rig support boats to Peterhead Bay Marina.

As proper sailors (in our eyes) we get Heydays snugged into her berth first, before cracking open some fizz to toast the end of this part of the odyssey.

 

6am alarm is very unwelcome. Part of us hopes that the forecast is poor, which will give us a great excuse to stay acquainted with our duvets. However, the threatened force 6 is not there and we make the decision to go. We are still taking a childish delight in sailing in waters we have only heard on the radio: Thames, Humber, Tyne and now Forth. We are in the land of Rattray Head to Berwick upon Tweed. Places which sound so romantic and adventurous, when heard in the deep tones of the shipping forecast in the early hours. Will we get to Cromarty this trip? The Dutch boat which had been moored in front of us has already gone and so we are feeling a bit slow off the mark as we slip our mooring at 7 and join the small procession of fishing boats leaving harbour.

A seal pops up to check as we slide between the harbour walls but loses interest too quickly for us to take a photo…or so we thought.

We are headed for Arbroath on the other side of the Forth and just a little up from Dundee. It should only take around 7 hours, but the lock into the harbour shuts two and a half hours before low water. We need to get there before 6pm and in theory we have loads of time. However the tide is not great for us and the variable wind arrives sooner than expected, dragging our speed over the ground to a shade under 4kt. This could be tight. There is a bit of a swell running which makes for an uncomfy motion and we are a bit concerned about the entrance to Arbroath. Dundee is an alternative but not brilliant either. We press on and motor sail to maintain speed. We hang some fishing lines over the back but it seems that no mackerel is inclined to join us for dinner.

Towards Fife Ness the tide turns in our favour and we radio ahead to Arbroath to ask about entry conditions. They are very reassuring and so Dundee will have to wait. By 3 we are receiving permission to enter the harbour although a big dredger with very battered sides is moving in the narrow entrance to add to the fun. The broad Scottish accent over the radio is a challenge to our southern ears, but we do what we think we are told and we end up next to Dave and Pam in their Westerly Seahawk. They are also circumnavigating the UK. But in the opposite direction. They have their son (a very experienced sailor who lives in Canada) and his family for company.

With almost indecent haste we are off in search of some of the famous Smokies for a late lunch. There are loads of fresh fish shops and plenty with signs like ‘Today’s Smokies ready from 12.45’. The Old Brewhouse by Danger Point not only has fresh smokies, but also some nice Orkadian beer. The smokies turn out to be succulent and juicy and worth a trip to Arbroath in themselves.

The bay and the beach here is stunning and we wish our camera skills could do more justice to the landscape. We wander off through town with half a mind to find a pot big enough to cook crab and lobster, but sadly not on this trip. The chimneys tell a story about the winters past…and to come?

Arbroath Abbey is shut but we get a strong sense of the history which was made here, as Robert the Bruce drew up a successful petition to the pope to grant Scotland nation status. This text was later used as the basis for the American constitution. The harbour is still focused mostly on fishing and the old Signal tower was used to house the Bell Rock Lighthouse keepers’ families and to signal to the lighthouse itself.

Back on board we get chatting to Dave and his son and we begin to think about revising our plans. Originally we were going to head for Inverness for the winter, then through the canal to the Western Isles. They sow the seeds of going right up round the top via Cape Wrath and the Orkneys. There is a real attraction in this and it would be a shame not to use the chance to see the islands by our own boat rather than by ferry. As the evening wears on the weather forecast for the next few days suggests that the relatively settled period is coming to an end and that we won’t get much further than Peterhead before it breaks. Our plan starts to look like winter in Peterhead or Lossiemouth before heading north in the Spring.