Rumline around Britain: June 8-9 Towards Oban on the Whiskey Tack

Leaving the Crinian Sea Lock

The Crinian Hotel overlooking Dorus Mor

Loch Crinian

The scale and beauty of the Western Isles is difficult to convey let alone take in. We left the Crinian basin gasping at the splendour that lay before us, A watery maze of islands, rugged, unblemished, beneath a vast sky, a combination of soft greens made softer when sittting aside the harsh jagged rock. In the sky gannets, fulmars, gulls and cormorants fly. We left quietly, soon hoisting our sails so not to disturb the serenity. I said a small thank you for the priviledge of being able to see what lay before me.

We made way southwest to Jura, our goal the distillery at Craighouse. It was wet but even the rain didn't dampen our enthusiasm, we were on the Whiskey tack. We pulled into Loch na Mile which lies at the Southwest corner of Jura, Craighouse, a tiny village, sits on the southern bank. The island's distillery produces some wonderful single malts, Origin my favorite. A vistor's mooring attached to Rummy, we made a cup of tea but were unable to go ashore as we needed to catch a tide through the Islay Sound if we wanted to make Colonsay that night. The Jura distillery was so close but unreachable.

A collective decision was made to press on through the Islay Sound which divides the north of Islay and the south of Jura. Between island sailing is alway promising. Just as we dropped our line the sun broke through as if to approve our decision to leave. With oillies off, flowers in our hair, sailings flying Rumline flew like a beautiful seabird into the sound. We were feeling the love !

Feeling the Love

Jura

The scale

Colonsay Light house at western exit of sound of Islay

Feeling the love too!

The sailing was amazing, the stuff you read about in the magazines. Rummy was miraculously exceeding her hull speed, it was as if she was magically coming alive as we tacked through the Sound. Castles, mountains distilleries flew past. There was only one thing left to do and that was whoop with joy. A most perfect lighthouse announced our departure from the sound. Onwards and slightly north of west we flew to Colansay. We had a passing glance at Loch Tarbert which is so tempting in it's scenic lure that I will come back to explore.

We arrrived at Colonsay and rafted up alongside a Sigma 33 tied to the very tall ferry pier which the kind harbourmaster had boarded up for visiting yachts. It only accomodates one smallish boat so if you tie up here be prepared to raft up to 6 deep. The poor Sigma owner looked horrified at our arrival but we approached gently and treated both vessels respectfully so he immediately warmed. Scaling a very long ladder to reach the top of the pier we walked to the only watering hole, The Colonsay Hotel. We had a superb seafood meal, Halibut, oysters, salmon, pollock all locally caught and prefectly fresh and washed down with a wee dram. The island is stark but gorgeous. We had to push sheep out of our way on the dirt track that leads to the hotel. Sheep even lounge amongst the dried out fishermens' boats. We felt transported to a different world and century. The Whiskey tack was the perfect course.

Colonsay drying harbour