Anstruther to Bell Rock

We had to leave Anstruther early this morning while we were still afloat, and with high tide at 0345 that really meant being off the pontoon by 0630 at the latest. We decided to be off by 0545, two hours after high water, so set the alarm for 0500. We were both awake early though, and had finished our wake up mugs of tea just after five. We still had 7' of water beneath the keel when we left the pontoon at 0530. Plenty!

Our next intended port of call, Arbroath had a similar tidal gate to Anstruther, three hours ether side of high water. That meant we did not really want to be there before 1300. It's only 23 nautical miles though, so we would get there too early unless we went very slowly, or stopped somewhere. We had hoped to sail, on the breath of forecast wind, but there was none at all, which meant motor, and with the tide under us the slowest we could go and still have steerage was 4 knots.

Out first thought was to anchor outside Crail and row in. There was a food festival there and it might be good to visit. Unfortunately we would need to up anchor by 0930 to make Arbroath, and it seemed unlikely that the festival would have started by then!

Julian had picked up a tourist leaflet for Angus yesterday, which listed “ten things you must do in Angus”. Number 2 was take a boat trip out to the Bell Rock to see the Stevenson lighthouse. Since it would only add 4 nm to our route we decided we would.

 

The sea was as flat as a mill pond for most of the trip, and the visibility hazy. Julian got busy, first checking the voltage on the batteries, then making a wooden extension for the auto-helm arm. We can now use it when we need to make turns to starboard as well as to port!

We did not catch sight of the Bell Rock Lighthouse until we were about 5nm off, and when we did it lookedlike a black and white stick; too thin to be a building. We could see the rock it was built on by 2½ miles, but it would have been invisible in any swell. We motored through a patch of high bird density, so there were obviously fish around.

There was a boat fairly close in to the rock and as we got closer we saw a forest of pot markers. All beautifully clear and professional, but the highest concentration I'd seen outside the Chesapeake. I did not want to go through them, and neither did Julian; as soon as the fishing boat saw we were going to be sensible he moved off.

We got a great view of the lighthouse with out own eyes, but our wide angle camera through we were too far away, even at its maximum zoom, so our pictures weren't much good. I wrote a poem though.

Bell Rock

A fragile finger, pointing up,

pin-points the black flaw

in the shot silk silver of the sea.

Puffins rise in flight, beating wings

swimming through thick air.

Feet strike the sea then settle, stillness.

Guillemots dip beaks, nervous now,

then dive - a white flash - 

leaving ripples and indifferent sea.

Crustaceans scuttle, seeking food.

Baited crab pots wait;

patient beneath the pewter satin.