August 16- 19 Homeward Bound... the end?

In Grimsby my focus changed. This was no longer a slow meander around the coast it was time to return. And like good byes it suited me that it be fast, avoiding a lingering wait. I changed gear and shifted into delivery mode. Richard a young sailor came on board in order tick the miles off quickly. And quick we were only stopping for a few hours of sleep to recharge and little else. Lowestoft, Ramsgate, Brighton all passed in a blur. The wind gods were assisting us as the wind followed us around the coast always abaft the beam, Rumline performed as if she too wanted to go home. Richard was a rockstar and patiently tolerated the gruelling pace I set. Three and a half days later we entered the Solent and pulled into our home waters! We made it around, no records broken, but the boat and her crew were safely home. Job done, tick. But It was never the destination that mattered it was always the journey that meant the most to me.

This trip has been a dream come true and I have been enriched in ways I didn't expect.

I have seen our coast, the people who live there and the beauty that is present in some form everywhere. I have experienced kindness and friendship in so many different quarters. I have also seen small  yet proud communities struggling because of our fishing policies. But despite hardship they bestowed generosity and helpfulness towards me and my boat, one seafarer to another.

The richness of life that the sea around Britain supports is wondrous. But it needs to be cherished, respected and cared for.  We have a gift given to us by the sea we must not plunder it or destroy it. I have been humbled by life and now know my place is rather insignificant. I will make a better effort to preserve the gift we have.

Did I have a favorite place? No. It was all special, a rich tapestry which can not be unpicked.

I am grateful to those who shared the adventure with me whether on board or on land. Thank you.

We made it around and in doing so I had the great privilege of  seeing our country from the sea.
I am proud that Britain is my home water.

Rumline, my gorgeous little boat, deserves the greatest credit. She worked hard, was reliable, safe and trustworthy, but most of all she is a delight and pleasure to sail. I love her and await our next adventure together.

Back In the Solent

So Happy fairday return

Even in the wet still smiling

Rockstar Richard

Proud to fly the flag

Rummy safely tucked up

August 15 How do you say Thank you.....

How do you thank a friend whose support, loyalty and friendship have been unfailing?  I am gutted that the wind and weather has not allowed Gareth to be on board when we return to Lymington. He deserves to cross the line on board. But it wasn't meant to be. Today I must say goodbye and finish this adventure without my dear dear friend. You will be missed and I will fly home now. So in Grimsby in the Humber I say goodbye. You have been my rock  and taught me about true friendship.

August 14 Are we going to Scarborough Fair

Falk reappeared the next morning, but a good boy he was. Off we headed to Scarborough.  We had a wonderful sail in morning. She flew but alas the wind died by noon.We motored past a pretty coastline and wished we had more time to explore but Rummy needs to get back to the Solent.

the pier

The lighthouse/yachtclub

Where's the doctor

It dries out!

Falk, Gareth and I at the Yacht club

Scarborough is a typical Victorian seaside town. Donkey rides on the beach, rock stick, arcades, fun fairs and a harbour which dries. It was a glorious sunny day, the quay filled with children, grandparents, young lovers. We had a drink at the very friendly and unpretentious yacht club, whose members bought us drinks. Cheers and thank you for your hospitality!  Parsley, Sage, rosemary and Thyme.... only to have more time.

August 12-13 Friday Night on the Pull in Sunderland

With new found friend Falk we made a plan to meet in Sunderland. As soon as we tied our lines arriving early in the afternoon, we hatched another plan to sail on Falk's boat. It was Fast, Fun and quite different from Rummy's motion. I loved the speed machine. 

Speed makes you hungry so we wanted Falk to experience a Geordie Friday night. Curry and then clubbing.
So to the flesh pots of Sunderland we went, clean fleeces and teeth brushed,  All the girls were dressed to the nines in the tiniest clothes possible. Skirts which I would use as a hairband, heels so high that ordinary women would experience vertigo. Blinded by dazzling blonde hair the boys didn't know where to look. Their eyes were on stalks. We danced and had so much fun. We lost Falk just after midnight. Age and common sense prevailed we went back to the boat before things got messy. We were glad to provide a cultural exchange. Sorry didn't talk any pictures of the girls.

August 10 -11-12 Drinking with Madmen and playing Russian Roulette with Lobster Pots

In Eyemouth we repaired the engine and repaired our frazzled nerves in the time honoured tradition known to sailors worldwide, drinking. A mad singlehander had rafted up to Rumline in a bright yellow extreme open 28 foot catamaran, a large floating banana split. With madmax sunglasses, a bright orange survival suit and a thick german accent he politely said "may eye pleeze come here". Of course I said, I hate when people are unwelcoming when pulling alongside. We took his lines and invited him to join us for a wee dram.

Falk and his vessel Amino

Falk and Gareth

Falk is one of these wonderfully normal people doing something quite extraordinary with out fuss or self promotion. Just fun and personal challenge. He is also circumnavigating the UK, but solo on what amounts to an open boat. No shelter except a small spray hood, no galley, no heads, no nothing really, just a tiny coffin like berth in one hull and a bright orange survival suit. To quote Falk, "if I fall in I have a PLB and can last 24-48 hrs in the water, no problem". He is a middle-aged madman despite his gentle and very proper demeanor.

We open the bottle and then another, I made all of us a hot meal and sealed our friendship with venison stew. We decided to shadow each other for fun and meet up again in Blyth. Warm food was definitely the way to this man's heart.
We sailed to Blyth arrived late after a nerve-wracking game of Russian roulette with the pots.

7- 9 August You cant have the rainbow without the rain!

A friendly face in miserable Peterhead

At last we turn south

Summer Sailing in NE Scotland

Rainbow as we left

Rumline left the Driving rain of Peterhead whose only saving grace was shelter, and a mother seal with her pup also seeking shelter from the miserable weather which plagues this place.  The oil and gas is what keeps people here certainly not the atmosphere nor climate. We decided to leave in a predicted NW gale,  to wait would mean a terrible boat stopping beat down the coast in a southern wind. It would howl but Rummy can handle a blow from the right quarter. As we dropped the lines in the screaming wind and horizontal rain a double rainbow appeared. I have found that even in difficult situations beauty is always present in some form. Rumline flew averaging 10 knots, 60 nm in 6 hours, we gained ground at an incredible rate. The sea was big but a nice regular swell on the quarter. We were surfing like California girls! Whooping like demented teenagers it was a wild fun ride. A pod of dolphins joined. a group on each side of the bow all of us surfing together seeing who could go fastest on the waves. The dolphins were better of course and I know they were enjoying this as much as I was. Surfing with dolphins! I am glad to do what I do. They stayed with me for over an hour and as we flew across the silvery waves puffins and numerous seabirds flew around us as we rode the storm.
YOU CANT HAVE THE RAINBOW WITHOUT THE RAIN.

It's tough sometimes but wouldn't want to be anywhere else

Of course when life is so sweet it has a way of turning around and biting you in the arse. The wind died off Dundee near the Firth of Forth, and so did the engine. That horrible red light and alarm screamed that we were running too hot. Luckily we had stood off the coast and had plenty of room to drift as we sorted the problem. I had a clue what the problem was so no panic. A impeller had  become damaged my fault, failing to open the seacock back in Maillaig. I thought I cleared the pipes but a large bit hid in the anti siphon bend and now had worked its way down to the heat exchange end cap.  Easy? not! in removing pipes

the connection to the seawater strainer broke. No big deal bypass it. Glad for all the bits of hose I carried. The engine flooded with seawater and was now limping. For some reason when you adjusted the throttle it was not happy.  Next time I will be more thorough in clearing out dislodged bits. Lesson learned.

I decided to fore go Whitby and make for the nearest port we could safely enter as it was now 3 AM. Eyemouth was the best option and according to Reeds it seemed a  good option. The pilot book made no reference to the horror that awaited. In the darkness I took the leading line not daring to touch the throttle lest it cut out. A roar grew and that horrible sound of water breaking grew louder. The steamer scarrer confirmed that we were in between two  large rocks with huge breakers crashing on them. Ahead lay a beach and a huge seawall with no apparent entry. A large swell was following us. For the first time I was nervous but that would not help Rummy  no chance to bail out, steady nerves were needed now. I had to steel myself and go for it and remain in control. With teeth gritted we surfed in the entrance which only was visible when we were feet away.  We survived. I kissed my boat for being so reliable and well behaved, poured myself a huge Whiskey. Gareth who had been sailing professionally for over 20 years said it was his most frightening entry. We were put between a rock and a hard place and were lucky to squeeze through.

August 5-6 Moray Firth A Surprise

At last Rumline is on the move again. Gareth has rejoined for a short while and boat and I are happy to have him on board again. You really appreciate good crew and I have been lucky throughout this trip. The weather is pants but the smiles will not be dampened.

We pulled out of Inverness, despite being a FRIDAY and rain predicted. After all it was blowing from the west and due to turn easterly the following day, which would mean a long beat of about 90 miles. To ensure against the Friday factor a wee dram was offered to Neptune and a silver coin to appease the Fin-men. It did the trick as the rain waited until we pulled into Lossiemouth and we made over 5 knots against a foul tide in only 11 knots of wind. We were surprised at how pretty the Moray Firth is, Gorgeous white sand beaches undisturbed and deserted, dolphins, seals, clear water all set against a lush green backdrop of gently rolling farmland. Beautiful. The villages a small, quaint and friendly. The harbours loved and pristine and grateful for your visits. A delight. I would encourage you to make some time to explore this area, it is over looked and deserves to be enjoyed.

In the Firth

Immaculate boats and harbour at Whitehills

The windy entrance into Whitehills, twisty but keeps the rough stuff out

The following day we made for Peterhead but around 4 pm the wind whipped back around to the East creating a nasty halting chop which stops Rummy in her tracks. Thirty six miles to go at under 3knots would mean a very long and demoralising sail. Whitehills harbour lay abeam so a quick executive decision was made, 90 degree turn to starboard and in no time we were entering the tall harbour wall. Astride a bicycle the harbour master directed us through the windy entrance to a comfortable alongside pontoon. Never have I been so welcomed to a harbour. It is friendly, immaculate, accomodating and pristine. Once a haven for fishing boats, Whitehills now has moved its focus to visiting pleasure vessels. It is run by the town and is a proud and loved place. There is even a crew room with sofa, books, tea and biscuits to retire to. One of the trustees left homemade sausages and eggs from his farm for my breakfast. Bless him I was touched by this kindness and indeed they were the best beef sausages ever! It is the nicest harbour I have ever been to. The harbour master should be an example to harbour masters everywhere. It will be difficult to leave.

August 3- 4 Orcadian Wanderings

The wind has been southerly and the sea and coast shrouded in fog and rain. Ghastly for anyone going south. The solution was found in staying tied up to the pontoon in Inverness, driving north until the land ran-out, hopping on a boat (let someone else drive for a change), and explore the the Orkney Isles. The shrouding mist could only add liquid atmosphere to these mythical islands which I always wanted to visit.. The ferry ride was fun and I was allowed on the bridge, it was really high above the water and I now know how difficult it is to see a small yacht near the bow.
I arrived in Stromness (pronounced strumniss) and drove directly in the pouring rain to Skara Brae a 5000 year old settlement on the north easter coast of the main island. It was incredible to see stone furniture, beds and shelves still standing after so long. It was like a Flinstones comic come to life. Even in the horrid weather it was worth seeing. I then drove to standing stones, circles passing some amazing scenery made rather eerie by the fog. My Band B was a charming mill house in the middle of nowhere, perfect. I could sleep as running water echoed in the room. That evening I went to a local house which hosts traditional fireside storytelling and music. By a peat fire I heard of the Finnmen, the Silkie maidens and of mythical sea islands that appear and disappear. All the stories centered on the sea as the people of Orkney relied on the water to provide for their lives. I was entranced and will drop a piece of silver for the finmen next time Rummy leaves the harbour to ensure no mischief befalls us. The drive back past the stone circles and the thick fog that rose around the water was rather creepy, I was glad not to breakdown.
The next morning the story teller of the previous evening met me in the tiny town to tell me about Stromness' nautical past. I won't bore you but it is a rich history and the town provided a large percentage of the seafarers who signed on to the Hudson bay company the rest hunted whales. It is an interesting place and I was invited to sail a local yole but sadly would not be there the evening they sail.
The next day was spent driving around the island, stopping frequently as the natural beauty would halt me in my tracks.

Hoy approach to the Island

Skara Brae

The rain stops for a few moments

Skara Brae

White sand beaches where the silkies bathe

Standing stones

Stromness and its windy streets

The Harbour is safe and snug

I am sure it is beautiful but this is all I saw

Why do we do this to our special landmarks?

I returned on the ferry hoping to see some of the east coast of main land Scotland but the fog was even thicker so I can only Imagine what it looks like. All I saw was John O Groats whose development can only be described as beyond hideous. Why do the British take beautiful places and put fun fairs, tat and the most awful type of tourist attractions?

August 2 Green-living to Gregorian Chants, Diversity is Key

Diversity is the word to describe yesterday, sounds like an HSBC airport billboard advert, but it sums up the day. In the wee rental car I pottered along the Moray coast trying to get a feel for the place.

Out of Inverness I turned east towards Nairn with its pretty beach and snug harbour. The sky here seems endless and vast and dominates the scenery. It is a simple beach resort thankfully devoid of the candyfloss, chip shops and slot-machines, Just a pretty sandy beach.  Onwards towards Fosse but approaching the heart of whiskey making territory I spied a brown sign informing us a distillery was not far.
Never one to miss an opportunity and with a quick hand-brake turn  we bounced along a small road to Benromach Distillery. It is a newly resurrected concern and one of the smallest in the business. The friendly staff allowed me a few tastings without having to endure yet another tour. Delicious! Fate must have led me here as Benromach has a sailing connection and is a sponsor of the Clipper Race. Sir Robin K-J an all time hero of mine is the brand ambassador. Life leads you to where you need to be.

A short distance away was Findhorn, which had been mentioned by several people as being a pretty harbour so I decided to stop an decide for myself. Passing Kinloss a now defunct, as of yesterday, air force base which was home to the Nimrods, I noticed the sign for the Findhorn Foundation. I had read about it in a book, Adrift in Caledonia. It is an eco- sustainable alternative community. A bit, commune with neat clapboard houses, alternative without the tie-dye and it has been growing since the 70's. It was a friendly place and it is nice to see people committed to putting their beliefs into practice.

I then wanted to visit Elgin but was again distracted by a sign that spoke to me, Pluscarden. I drove through the remote wooded hills thinking that I really didn't want to breakdown here until I reached the sign for Pluscarden Abbey. It is a 13th century Monastery which was a ruin but restored and returned to use in the 20th Century by a Benedictine order. I was apprehensive to enter the gates as it was late and there were no visitors cars, but I needed to see the Abbey so ignoring the private signs and the distant car park I slowly drove up to the deserted Abbey Church. Expecting it to be closed or to be told to leave I was instead greeted by a smiling monk and a Tamil family waiting to have their picture taken together, I was their photographer delivered by divine intervention!  I stayed for the evening Vespers, the most divine Gregorian chants sang in Latin by the monks. It was the most serene and wonderfully spiritual moment of my trip. The Abbey is a special place and again a place raised and made what it is by the extreme commitment of the people inhabiting it. I was given a blessing for my  picture taking and left feeling that little bit better about life. Again we are led where we need to be.

Picking up my laundry I went from the serene to the ridiculous and spent the rest of the evening watching a film at the local Vue cinema, eating a Burger King cheeseburger and shopping for washing up liquid at the 24 hr Tesco. How's that for diversity in a day!

Findhorn Bay

Pluscarden Abbey

July 31 Moray Firth

Moray Firth

Rumline is having a rest in Inverness and I need to recharge the batteries after a busy week. The familyfinally began to settle into boat life after a week. They have returned to home comfort which will

appreciated after life on a boat. We take much for granted on land.

Car hired a day of exploration took place before they were delivered to the train station. We stopped at Fort George a pristine example of a a fort which guards the water into Inverness. Never thought I could get excited about forts, but I did.  Perhaps I missed my calling and should have joined the forces in my youth.

Afterwards, we drove to Cawdor Castle, which is beautiful and has wonderful gardens. Then to a battlefield, Culloden. It was hard to imagine the bloodshed that took place here.

After a day of mach II tourism the boys were dispatched on the Caledonian sleeper and I returned to a quieter and emptier boat.

Fort George

Cawdor Castle

Flowers

 Garden at Cawdor