An unpleasant Start

We woke a little early and started moving. Alison had remembered last thing yesterday that we needed to rearrange the rope on the ladder so both ends were above water at high tide. Whew. They were only one rung out of the water this morning.

Alison prepared the boat and I went up the ladder and dropped the power cable and the bow and stern lines down.

We were ready to go, except for the ladder line, by the time the engine had warmed up. I pulled the stern in and let go the ladder and Alison expertly manoeuvred us round the tight corner out of the inner harbour.

So far, so good.

The sea state didn't look any worse than the conditions in the outer harbour, so we carried on and I went to the fore deck to get the bowsprit out and the jib bent on.

We had meant to get the cover off the staysail before leaving, but had forgotten.

As we got into the narrow, rocky, entrance, Alison shouted that there was very little power coming from the engine. But we were committed now, with no room to turn around. We would have to get out if we wanted to get in again.

The sea state in the entrance wasn't what we expected. A short chop was coming straight in, making Robinetta pitch uncomfortably.

I got the bowsprit out, but Alison was desperate to have the staysail to give us a bit more speed. Getting the cover off was hard work. I was hanging on tight with my upper arms while the boat pitched and I tried to undo the clips and the zip. Even getting the halyard shackled on was fraught with the risk of dropping the pin.

I managed.

Alison got the sail up and it did pull. We got up from 1 1/2 to maybe 2 knots, and gradually got out of the entrance into safe water. But the sea was still pitching Robinetta violently.

I got the jib on eventually, and the staysail and jib covers dropped through the fore hatch. The port hinge is coming loose again.

I had two ropes and two fenders up at the bow. I managed to pass the fenders and one hanked rope back to the cockpit and tied the other rope around my waist and to the lines running across the cabin top and made my way back.

It had taken 1/2 an hour and it hadn't been easy.

The cockpit was crowded with ropes and fenders. Alison had been just as busy steering as I had been. I got the remaining ropes hanked and that helped a lot. Alison could now move over so I could get everything stowed.

We got on course. Now we were rolling, rather than pitching. The engine was working now. Perhaps the prop had caught some weed and it had slipped off.

OK. There was a decent wind. We got the main up, keeping the small reef in to balance the no 2 jib. It was a beam reach. Life was getting better. We turned the engine off. 

By 7am we were sailing nicely towards Corsewall Point.  I checked a few options. Arran still seemed nearest, apart from Girvan, which was now too close.

Lamlash came first, but the moorings at Brodick are free, and Brodick Bay is more sheltered from the southerly winds we expect.

Soon, we could see Ailsa Craig beyond the end of the headland. 

The wind was dropping and Alison had promised to switch jibs if we needed to. I thought we did. We changed jibs before shaking out the reef so I had the smaller main while we only had the staysail to balance the sail plan. 

Once past Corsewall Point, the wind backed and we were broad reaching. We could not point directly towards the east coast of Arran but we had plenty of time for long boards between gybes.

I spotted a dolphin in the far distance jumping vertically way out of the water three times. Later, we were visited by a small pod, but they didn't stay to play. 

The wind came and went, but it was often strong enough to want to put reefs back in, and then light enough to shake them out again. The seas were always lively. 

We gybed around Ailsa Craig and then towards the Pladda light.

We expected to gybe again, but we were able to just make it round Holy Isle. Maybe we got a little veer, maybe we were just trying really hard.

East of Holy Isle, the wind dropped completely and the sea went smooth. We shook out the reef and waited. Suddenly the wind came in from the west. Then it died again. We could see it on the water a few boat lengths away, so we knew when it was coming.

This was the fun bit of the day. We were only 4 miles from our destination. We had a little really nice beam to fine reaching for an hour.

The it was time to put the engine on, get the sails down, and pick up a mooring in Brodick Bay. We were under sail for 10  hours without the engine. It started a bit stressfully, but it has been a good day. 

Changing plans

Neither of us slept well as the mooring was not very sheltered. We were awake before the alarm, and Julian turned his phone on at 5 a..m. to check the weather. The strong winds that we had seen forecast yesterday evening, due to arrive East of the Isle of Man on Tuesday and pass through by Thursday morning, were now coming earlier, and staying longer. We could certainly get to Whitehaven today, but the winds after that would be too strong for Robinetta, and in the wrong direction. We would not be able to leave in time to get to the Sea Festival at Barrow.

Some things are not meant to be. Maybe we will get to Barrow another year. The winds were perfect to get North today, so we decided to head for Portpatrick. We came off the mooring at 06:00, and Julian spent the next 40 minutes getting the foredeck and sails sorted. We had brought in the bowsprit while in Peel, so that had to go out, then he bent on the no.2. jib, and got the staysail ready.

The sea state was a bit rolly, but not too bad, and once I pulled up the staysail Robinetta steadied a bit. Then I began to get the main up, planning to put in a reef to balance the no 2 jib. It took two goes to get the reef in well, and Julian had to take over the hauling, but by 07:00 the engine was off, and we were sailing on a very broad reach straight for Portpatrick.

Once the sails were set we did not need to touch them again until we put the engine on again to take them down before entering Portpatrick. We had a lovely sail, through a couple of bits of interesting but unthreatening sea state just off the Mull of Galloway. We did not notice the 3.5 knots of tide that could have swept us towards the Solway Firth, and while adverse tide did take our speed down to about 3.5 knots for a couple of hours, for much of the time we were reaching along at 4.5-5 knots.

We entered Portpatrick at 16:15, and were able to moor up next to a ladder rather than needing to raft up. By 16:30 the engine was off and we were settled.

9 hours of sailing, with no engine needed. Bliss. We will probably be here until Thursday, unless the weather moderates on Wednesday. Time for some sight seeing!

 

Moving out of the harbour

Peel’s limited tidal access meant we had to either get up in the small hours of Monday morning, or leave on Sunday afternoon and go on to a waiting buoy in the harbour. We wanted to get fuel, which was available through a hose just beyond the flap gate and bridge, and we decided it would be easier to do this in daylight. There was no rush through, the flap gate did not close until 5pm, so we could stay and listen to music, have lunch, and watch the carnival procession before we left.

With the procession over, we headed back to Robinetta. We had already moved Worm so the motor boat moored beside us could get out as soon as the flap gate opened, so there was little to do. We called up the harbour master, who told us the next bridge lift was at 15:00. We had less than five minutes to warm up the engine, cast off, and head for the bridge.

We made it, only to be told that there was a yacht already on the fuel dock. This was not really a problem, as we just moored up ahead of him and waited for him to finish and move clear. Then Julian pulled us forward on ropes, and sent down the fuel hose.

I had had to guess how much fuel we would need, as the system worked with a pre-payment fob. We had motored for 40 hours since we last filled up, and after dipping the tanks I had through we had room for 13 litres in each tank, plus 15 into our spare cans, so I bought 40 litres. In reality I could only squeeze in 35 litres…

Julian took the fob back to the harbour master, then cast off our mooring ropes and rejoined me on Robinetta.

There were two free waiting buoys, with the 2 most sheltered already taken. Those yachts were lying inshore of the buoys, but the pick up lines were training off shore. We had to go the “wrong” side of the buoy so Julian could reach the line and bring it on board, then try and manoeuvre Robinetta to lie to the buoy the same way as the others. Words were exchanged.

We ate a light dinner on board, and planned our next day’s passage. We had hoped to anchor at Whithorn on Monday evening, explore it on Tuesday, then sail to Whitehaven on Wednesday, but the forecast winds to the east of the Isle of Man for Tuesday and Wednesday meant that we should head straight to Whitehaven. The best time to leave to get round the Point of Ayr before the overfalls began was 06:00. We set the alarm for 05:30, and turned in for an early night.

Peel Sea Fest

given the Nicky award by the Peel sailing and Cruising Club Commodore

Sea Fest only runs for 2 days, the Friday and Saturday. On Saturday evening we went to a 6 person performance of Macbeth at Peel Castle, before going to the sailing club. There we were awarded a prize for being the furthest travelled boat. We did not claim all our miles, but even from the Clyde to Peel via Port Dinorwic and Ireland, we had travelled over 200…

On Sunday morning we left our raft on the harbour wall, and took a pontoon finger berth at the far end of the harbour where we could have electricity and not have to clamber over other yachts when we wanted to go ashore. More civilised, but not in the heart of the action.

Not a nice beam reach

 We only had 33nm to go to reach Peel. Julian checked the flap gate/bridge opening times there and told me they opened at 17:15. This did not seem quite right as high water was at 20:21, and when he checked again the opening time was 18:52. He was not having a good day.

We left Ardglass at 09:05, giving ourselves plenty of time so we could sail, and raised the main sail as soon as we were clear of the coast. The swell was not too bad, and the wind was light as we set off on a broad reach. I was helming, and soon realised that this was not going to take us to Peel; we would end up south of the Calf of Man. Trying to sail our course to Peel brought us very close to the gybe, and the swell was rolling us uncomfortably. I checked on our newly installed wind vane, and the forecast south westerly was much closer to a pure westerly.

Julian got depressed. We hoped that once we cleared the land the wind might have more south in it, but this was not to be. It also went lighter. A light wind, dead astern, meant another day with the engine on. We could not even rig George because of the swell.

We gave up on trying to use the main sail at 13:30, and got it down. The wind strengthened slightly at 15:00, not enough to worry about raising the main, but we flew the jib and turned the engine off for a quiet half hour sailing at 2.5 knots.

The Isle of Man got closer, and colours began to appear. The overcast sky grew brighter, and we started to see blue. Julian’s mood improved, and get even better when the wind came in from the south. The main went up, and by 16:45 we were sailing on that longed for beam reach. Unfortunately we were less than 4 miles from Peel.

Finally sailing towards Peel

The main sail steadied Robinetta’s motion, and we were having a lovely sail. All the waiting buoys in Peel harbour were full, so we decided to continue sailing in the bay. Then we saw the pot markers. They filled the sheltered area of the bay north of the waiting buoys.

We gybed away, heading out past the breakwater again to get the main sail down in the bumpy water outside the bay.

One of the yachts waiting on the buoys was Wren, another gaffer we had seen in Port Dinorwic. They beckoned us over to moor alongside and share their buoy, which was a much simpler option that anchoring. I approached very slowly, worried about clashing bowsprits, but they did not touch, and we spent the next 50 minutes chatting to our fellow gaffers, and tidying up our sail stow.

I had phoned Peel soon after we left Ardglass, so they were expecting us, and now I phoned them again to say we were waiting. Peel harbour is controlled from Douglas after 17:00, and I was surprised to be told to approach the bridge at 18:45, when it was only due to open at 18:52, but I did as I was told. I would see the flap gate was still up, so turned away back into the bay.

All in all Robinetta approached the entrance to the harbour three times before we actually got a green light to proceed into the harbour. Once inside we found a nice big Norwegian flagged yacht with fenders all ready for rafting, so we went alongside and moored up. The engine went off again at 19:05. We had arrived.

We will be staying in Peel for over a week, first for the Sea Fest, and then for Yn Chruinnaght, the pan Celtic gathering.

Motoring North

A very uneventful day. I had a call between 10 and 11 to discuss funding for Gaelic in Helensburgh.

Beforehand, we walked into town and bought bread and smoked salmon and scallops and samfire. I don't remember every having a choice of three shops to buy scallops in, and not all the fishmongers were even open yet. The smoked salmon was smoked on the premises.

My call didn't last the full 40 minutes so we got away a little early. That meant some foul tide past Ireland's Eye but then we motored all day.

Ireland's Eye

 We dodged around the back of a yacht which was just managing to sail, more to be friendly than for safety.

Rockabill Lighthouse

Then pretty much nothing happened other than food until we were entering Ardglass harbour about midnight.

We had the locally smoked salmon with creamy goats cheese for lunch and I cooked the scallops with samfire and onions in lemon and white wine and served it over spaghetti. Lovely.

We edged in looking for the lit channel. Alison remembered there being a cardinal to look out for and spotted it just in time. 1 m clearance is ok at 1 knot.

The end of the visitor pontoon has no fingers so we could come alongside quite easily.

For once, we had a small whisky before turning in.

Hopefully, we will get a nice beam reach to Peel tomorrow. 

Shore Day

 The wind was due to be N F5 and falling today but dropping to nothing tomorrow morning. So we decided to stay in Howth today and have a long day motoring to Ardglass tomorrow.

In fact, it never dropped all day. It brought a lovely cool breeze into the town but there were white horses out in the bay. Robinetta would have had problems making progress north straight into it.

We had a late cooked breakfast of bacon and egg.

When we were in Howth in 2016, nearing the end of our circumnavigation of Ireland, we did the fine walk along the cliff. We never went to the touristy bit by the train station.

They told us in the marina office that there is a new Tesco just a bit further on, and we needed a few things so we went that way after a quick detour to check out the food outlets in the other direction as we thought it would be nice to eat out tonight.

That led to a delicious pomegranate sorbet for me and a latte for Alison. Her order got mixed up and she got an iced one by mistake. She enjoyed it.

The Tesco is a big one and, in common with every supermarket we have ever been to in Ireland, has some local produce. We bought a few staples and will come back tomorrow morning for bread.

Then we headed back past the station and turned left.

Between Tesco and the station there is a Blues Café and a pub with a seafood bar. Beyond the station is a quay with a really good chandlery and around a dozen seafood restaurants and half a dozen fishmongers.

I was in heaven.

We went into the first fishmonger, not knowing there would be others! We bought a Red Mullet and got it cleaned and scaled and left it there to collect later. We wouldn't be eating out tonight, I would be cooking.

They had sole and gilthead bream and lots of other fish.

The middle of the quay has a working commercial boatyard. There was a large ship lifted out for maintenance. It only occupies 30 m of the quay but goes back a long way.

The end of the quay has tourist boat trip places and an open area where you can look out over the bay to Ireland's Eye. A busker was playing the the trombone to a recorded accompaniment. It's a delightful spot.

We went back to Robinetta and Alison did laundry while I had a go at patching Worm. She has damage to the floor plank that weeps.

Mid afternoon, I felt like a little trip to get a seafood snack and a drink would be nice. If we weren't going to eat out for dinner, we could at least sample the experience.

We looked in every restaurant. They were all either full or not very interesting, or both. It was really busy, with local families and international tourists.

We ended up at The Bloody Stream. The pub with a seafood bar. It was a good choice. I had a Guinness and Alison had a Bulmers and we shared a starter portion of mussels. The Bloody Stream is a real stream which now runs under the pub but it is said that it ran red with blood during the 12th century Norman invasion of Ireland.

Later that evening I cooked the Red Mullet for dinner. Lovely. 

Cruising under sail is not just about sailing.

I wish Scotland had somewhere with fish like this.

Another Long Day

It was busy at Pilot's Cove, about 6 yachts there when we arrived. We found a little hill to anchor on.

Nice views of Snowdonia but otherwise no prettier than many other places. But we are spoilt.

No view this morning. Misty and overcast.

Northerly winds mean a direct passage to the IoM is not a good idea. So we headed for Howth.

We did the cross tide planning as we had between the IoM and Be weaumaris. Keeping a record of the cross track error helps a lot.

One hour watches are working for us this year. The sea was calm enough for George to steer so it wasn't too tiring.

Holyhead/Dublin ferries passed us every few hours.

Got a small pod of common dolphins for company in the middle.

The wind was useful but we never turned the engine off.

Mid afternoon Alison noticed that the bilge pump hadn't gone on and there was a lot of water in the bilges. The float switch didn't seem to be working. Manual use of the electric pump was fine.

I replaced the 12 V feed to the float switch and that seemed to fix the problem.

From about 7pm the sea state got worse we changed to hand steering. The wind came and went.

From about 9pm it was much windier and bouncy. We reefed down to the first hoop and got the jib in. 

Reefing and shaking out reefs is working really well. Getting the jib in was difficult. We had to head downwind to get the jib in the lee of the mainsail.

Those last 2 hours were a bit lively.

We gott to Howth at low water and it was getting dark. We found the buoyed entrance to the marina. The channel is really narrow between the hammerheads and the mud.

We spotted a space on a hammerhead and got ropes and fenders ready, planning to turn around and go in port side to.

But there was no space to turn around without ploughing the mud. It took a long time to get the bow around but I managed eventually. 

The dashed line heading north in the photo is just the GPS finding itself. But you can see I had a few goes turning round. The least depth under the keel was -0.8m

We tied up on the hammerhead about 23:00.

I am very pleased with my cross-tide navigation. Both IoM to Menai and Pilots Cove to here.

Setting off again

With the Sea Fest over it was time to head out. Many of the other participants left yesterday, while the Dublin OGA contingent were planning to go to Conwy, so left as soon as the lock began operating to take the tide through the Swellies.

Our plan was to head for Howth, via an overnight anchorage at Llanddwyn Island just past the Caernarvon Bar. This meant leaving the Marina at about 15:00, on free flow. I called up on Channel 80 to ask for a bridge lift at 14:30 as we wanted to fill up with diesel and water while in the lock.

The timing worked perfectly, and we were motoring out of the lock dead on 15:00, with full tanks and cans. The tide was running quite strongly in the direction we wanted to go, so we only needed the engine on low revs. We got the main sail up, and motor sailed when we could, but the buoyed channel twisted and turned across the apparently wide open water, so turning off the engine was never a possibility.

Sailing past Caernarvon Castle

The shape of the Caernarvon Bar changes every year, making the charts things to treated with caution. Only the sequence of buoys stays the same, their positions must be followed in reality, not on paper. The colours faded to black in the bright sunshine, but the shapes made their type obvious. The fact that the direction of buoyage changes just off Caernarvon itself also needs to be taken into account.

Despite all the potential problems we safely navigated our way out from between the sandbanks, and turned towards the anchorage. There were over 10 yachts already there, and we had to go slightly out of the most sheltered area but there was enough space. We anchored in 3m beneath the keel with 20m of chain, at 17:30 after a slightly nerve wracking passage from Port Dinorwic.

Llanddwyn anchorage

Up the mast

We moved Robinetta to the work area this morning and I got my things together and got into to cage to be lifted up by the fork lift truck.

Replacing the broken strop was reasonably straightforward. I decided a bow shaped shackle would work better than the straight one I had brought and the retaining piece was missing a screw. Alison sent me up the extra bits using the spare halyard.

But we got a bit tangled with the halyard and Alison decided the block on the gaff span was too worn and wanted to replace it, which meant rethreading most of the peak halyard. That done, it was looking good. I moved some of the other strops a little to reduce chafe.

I got the cage raised a bit more to work on the VHF antenna. I fitted a rubber duck for the AIS in Ullapool. It was completely broken and rusted so I just removed it. I took the cable off the main antenna and it didn't look great either. So hopefully the new antenna and cable will restore the radio performance.

The new antenna has a windex. I was worried it might not fit but it was high enough up to clear the top of the mast.

So we could use the same bracket. I got the antenna fitted and got the windex no-go zone arms roughly even port and starboard and tightened their screw.

Then it was time to run the cable down, taping the anchor light cable to the VHF cable and putting both in the trunking that goes past the hounds.

I made sure the cable attachment to the antenna was sealed with self amalgamating tape.

Running the cables is pretty simple now, the trunking makes things much easier.

I had brought black and white tape up with me. I used white everywhere except the antenna bracket and put some extra white over the anchor light fitting so the white at the top of the mast goes all the way up now.

I had to get the cage lowered a metre at a time to get the old cable cut off and the new one into the trunking and then taped down the shrouds.

Then it was taping the bottom by the bulwarks and threading the new cable through the deck fitting.

Alison ran the new cable in the cabin and got rid of the old ones.

Now we just need to fit the new plug!

By then it was time for most of the boats to leave. We were staying another night but most wanted to leave on the tide, either through the Swellies, or out to Carnarvon Bay. We walked down to say farewell and take pictures.

After that I was tired and hungry and thirsty. We had a light lunch and then just chilled until it was time for Mary to go home. I helped her get her luggage to the bus stop and made a short trip to the shop.

At 4pm it was time for the last music of the weekend. A male voice choir / group singing mostly in Welsh with some standards in English. Very sweet sounding.

After that we went up to the Chinese takeaway and brought dinner back and listened to the Proms.

Port Dinorwic

 

A lovely restful day chatting with old friends and making new ones.

Destination for the weekend reached

We needed to head down the Menai Straights to reach Port Dinorwic, which meant going through the Swellies between the bridges. This would not be possible until 12:15, at slack water. That meant a much appreciated lazy morning. We had anchored in 3m beneath the keel, but with a rise of tide of 7m we had let out 30m of chain. Hauling that up and plotting our course between the Menai Strait bridges were the only outstanding tasks before 11:00 when we left.

The weather was lovely, blue sky with a light northerly breeze. With the main sail out of action we never even thought about raising the staysail, and just motored through without any drama, encountering 5 yachts coming the other way.

Neither of us had been to Port Dinorwic Marina, and Julian could not find it on the chartplotter, just the tidal basin with pontoons just past it. He had set this as the destination. Having read the pilot I knew we were looking for the Vaynol Dock entrance, but the two were too close together to matter when setting the course. Julian had just realised that where he was heading was full of motor boats and no masts when I spotted the masts we were looking for. We were slightly past the Vaynol entrance at this point and turning back showed we had quite a lot of tide in our favour.

We made it in, and tied up between the lock gates for half an hour while the marina staff decided the best place to put us. Mary found us there, and came aboard for the last few metres of the journey under the road bridge between the two halves of the marina. This was very slow to raise!

We were moored alongside Laura with the engine off at 13:55. Our long trip south had been successfully completed.

North Wales at last

 We have been heading to North Wales for an Old Gaffers muster since Saturday. 300 nm in 6 days is crazy but I wanted to try it.

We left at 6 am. The tides in this part of the Irish Sea run mostly east-west, so we would have to let them push us one way and then back again and follow a compass course. Our normal "just keep along the line on the chart plotter" would be a much longer journey.

Alison was keen to meet the North Wales folks at the anchorage by Llanddwyn on the west of Anglesey. That was over 60 nm, but achievable, we thought.

The course was 180 and off we went.

The problem was that we only looked at the Irish Sea tidal stream atlas, not the Anglesey specific one. Alison looked at that when we had been going for an hour. It told us we would arrive when there were bad overfalls and strong adverse tides. On the other hand, we could go down the east side of Anglesey and then through the Swellies tomorrow and it would be much easier.

So we changed course to 150.

After a while the wind came in and we were able to motor-sail and then just sail.

We kept an hourly record of the cross track error but didn't change course until mid afternoon. It looked like we were getting pushed west more strongly than we had been pushed east, and I didn't want to get into the fast tides across the top of Anglesey so we altered course.

Suddenly, when Alison was in the cockpit and I was below, there was a bang. Alison called me up.

The gaff was swinging wildly. One of the strops on the mast supporting the peak halyard had failed.

We managed to get the sail down and stowed. We will have to get help with replacing the strop.

Not having the mainsail slowed us down but not too much.

Soon after, we hit strong foul tides. They lasted a couple of hours and then we had favourable ones all the way into the Menai Strait and to our chosen anchorage in the pool opposite Beaumaris.

Only 7 nm to go.

Sunset over Beaumaris

 

Fuel is essential

Checking fuel levels after anchoring is absolutely the wrong time. If we had checked as we crossed Belfast Lough we would have gone straight to Bangor Marina to fill up. We had to have full fuel tanks to cross the Irish Sea with the expected light winds, and they were only a third full. There was only one thing for it, we would have to up anchor early (4 a.m.) and head for Bangor.

Waking up and hauling up the anchor just before dawn is no real hardship. The light was lovely, with tinge of pink to the sky and we could see well even though the chart plotter still thought it was night. The tide was with us out of Donaghadee sound, but against us in Belfast Lough, so it took a couple of hours to get to Bangor Marina, but fuelling was very efficient. After calling the Marina we went straight to the fuel dock. This is self service, pay with card at the dispenser just like a petrol station, and like a petrol station they have white diesel at road traffic prices. We took 48litres to fill the tanks and cans, and 12 minutes after arriving we were away again.

We got the main sail up just outside the marina and motor sailed back towards our anchorage in half the time of our outbound journey. This time we headed out through Dronaghadee Sound rather than back to the anchorage, with the tide now strongly in our favour. We had to ferry glide between the buoys, but there were no bumpy seas in the Sound, or useful wind either!

Once we were clear we set our course for the south end of the Isle of Man. The sea state was a bit rough for George, so we ended up hand steering, hour and hour about. The wind did not come back, and the main sail started slatting about, so we took it down. Then some usable wind came in and we put it up again, then the wind died and the sail started slatting again. This is bad for the rig, so I called Julian up from his off watch.

We were joined at this point by a group of athletic dolphins, who wanted to show off their jumps and tail slaps. Unfortunately we were too busy getting the sail down to give their display the attention it deserved. No pictures!

The Isle of Man was visible but hazy when I went off watch. I dug out our Isle of Man pilot book to have a look at the local tides, and made an interesting discovery. We had been aiming at Chicken Rock to go south of the Calf of Man, but the overfalls could be bad at our estimated arrival time. However the tide would be perfect o go through Calf Sound. This could cut 10 miles off our route (given a suggested 5 mile offing for the Chicken Rock overfalls) and would be well worth doing just to have done it. I pointed out the opportunity to Julian and he was all for it.

Chicken Rock Lighthouse

A small sport fishing boat came through towards us when we were about half a mile off, showing no evidense of bad sea state in the Sound, which was reassuring. Calf Sound has a terrible reputation and even in our benign conditions it was possible to see why. 

Entrance to Calf Sound

The western entrance is very narrow, and the tidal stream means you are not going where you are pointing when navigating that entrance. Our speed shot up to 7 kn at the narrowest part, but this is very short and steering soon returned to normal. We stayed in smooth water all the way as we headed for the headland on the south east side, but over towards the Calf side there were short steep waves with breaking crests. These were very small, but the line of them extended half way across the Sound.

Overfalls even in quiet weather

Calf Sound is an interesting place, but as the pilot book says “only attempt in quiet weather”.

Within an hour we were at Port Saint Mary, with a choice of 2 big yellow visitors bouys. These were in flat water at the open end of the harbour wall. When we were last here, in 2016 the moorings in my memory were further out into the bay, and very subject to swell, but =both of the current ones seemed sheltered. We picked up the one without a resident cormorant on it.

We had had a very early start, and the sea state had been too much for George, and tiring for us. However the fact that our plans had worked, and we had come through Calf Sound made it a good day on the water, even though the engine was on continuously. We could not have made the Isle of Man without our side trip to Bangor.

Glenarm

 The tides can be fierce along this coast. The last time we did it we made 11 knots with a lovely broad reach. So we were waiting for the south bound flood today. We decided it should be slack by 4pm and we would go then.

So today was something of a rest day.

We had shopping to do, showers to have, and hopefully get some diesel.

The shop in Glenarm sells a lot. But it's marching season in Northern Ireland and yesterday was a bank holiday for the Battle of the Boyne.

Because of the holiday, the bread hadn't come at all yesterday and was expected ‘’later” today, as was the delivery from the butcher.

We stocked up on basics and I went to see the harbour master and paid but there is no fuel at Glenarm. There used to be 10 years ago but there was a bad fuel spill and they don't any longer. It's a bus ride to the nearest petrol station. Bangor would be our next good option.

Alison decided the weather was perfect for finally getting some oil on the cap rails and cabin sides. Something she had hoped to do in Lochboisdale but it was too wet.

But first, breakfast. We had a really good fry up with bacon, tomato, eggs and local black pudding. While I was cooking it a couple came to look at Robinetta. Alison told them about her while I cooked.

We didn't need lunch after that.

I popped up to the shop again at noon and the bread was in but no loaves, the had probably already gone. I got some soda bread and a fruit breac.

When Alison had finished her oiling, we went for a walk in the forest with local ice cream from the shop.

It really felt like a holiday.

At 4pm we left and had a decent motor down towards Belfast. We didn't get the strong tides. I think we were a bit early and a bit too near the coast.

Alison decided she preferred to anchor at Copeland Island, rather than going into Bangor.

Getting into the anchorage was interesting. The tide was breaking strongly on the Rid Rock and we had to ferry glide round it. But it all worked. There was a French yacht already anchored but quite far out in deep water. We went in close with plenty of room.

We had some dinner and then, belatedly, put the dip stick into the diesel tanks. They were ⅔ empty and we had nothing in the cans and there was very little wind in the forecast.

We would have to go back to Bangor to get fuel.

We could go now, or in the morning. We decided to go at 4am.

Getting to Northern Ireland

We had a late night last night, so set no alarm, but the sun woke us up at the reasonable hour of 07:30. It had been a peaceful night for Robinetta, but less so for Worm, who had lain to the wind rather than the tide when it turned, so Julian had got up in the night to trail her off the bow, not the stern. She was along side when we woke!

We had heard the alternator belt squeaking yesterday when we re-started the engine after sailing, which prompted us to do full engine checks this morning. These revealed we did indeed need to tighten the alternator belt, and top up the oil. I also put the remaining diesel from our cans into the main fuel tanks; a much better place for it. Once the engine was back in good condition we turned it on, Julian hauled up the anchor, and we were away from our lovely anchorage at 08:30.

Motoring out from the shelter of Am Froach Eilean into the main Sound of Islay saw little increase in wave action, and the warned against overfalls where the Sound of Islay tide met the Sound of Jura one just caused a tiny amount of movement. We could tell where they might form, but that was all.

Our tidal calculations kept us out of any other overfalls but we over compensated a bit for the expected North Channel tides and instead fell foul of the north going stream up the west side of the Mull of Kintyre.

Julian hauled the main sail up, and we did get to motor sail for a while on our unnecessary course over toward the Mull, but the engine did not go off all day. Rathlin Island was indistinct in the haze, but the sky overhead was bright blue, and the sea sparkled. Julian’s knees got quite red before he put suntan lotion on. George could handle the helming for most of the day, so it was not a tiring trip, just a long one. I prepared a vegetable stew as we left the Sound of Islay, and we ate it as we closed the Antrim coast. Our provisions are getting quite low, so we need to shop tomorrow.

We reached Glenarm Marina at 21:30 and once we were securely moored headed for a drink at the pub.

Farewell to Mary

 We woke before the alarm and tidied the cabin and went up to use the facilities.

Mary was packed and ready by 7:30. Now we would find out if the 7:50 bus was running. It wasn't. After a few tries, she managed to book a taxi to the ferry. She had a chance of getting all the way home to Manchester.

We set off at 8:18. The tide was pushing us away from the pontoon, so we could ease the stern line to get further out and then let the tide push the bow out. A really easy departure. Mary waved us off and we set off for the Sound of Islay.

Our destination was an anchorage at the south end of the Sound of Islay. If we were late, and the tide turned on us in the Sound, we could anchor in Whitefarland Bay, in the Sound. If we were very late, and couldn't get into the Sound, we could anchor in Loch Tarbert on Jura.

There was no wind. We motored towards the Sound of Iona. Passing Inch Kenneth, I was reminded that it's mentioned in Johnson's and Boswell's accounts of their Scottish holiday. There was a young nobleman there, beloved of all the ladies. If my memory serves, he was drowned just before he was due to get married.

It's a tiny island with a big history.

The Sound of Iona has a shoal in the middle. It's best to keep to the Iona side until south of the cardinal.

Colonsay is directly in the way, on passage from Iona to the Sound of Islay. I decided to go north about it and go through the rock fields off Erraid. There is a nice clear gap between the Torran rocks and the group around Dearg Sgeir. I'm reading the charts in Gaelic now, so I just see “red rock”, and feel uncomfortable, because it should be Sgeir Dearg.

We got the main up in the Sound of Iona but there wasn't much wind.

Threading through the rocks was fun and safe. There was no hint of the overfalls the chart notes are possible.

Then the wind did kick in and we had a lovely sail with the engine off and George steering, with the solar panel on so George didn't run the battery down.

There were lots of seabirds by Balnahard Bay at the north end of Colonsay. I put the fishing line out and caught a mackerel immediately. Tried for more, but one was our allotment.

That was almost dinner time so I cleaned the fish and cooked it with tomato and garlic for a starter and when we had eaten that I cooked spaghetti carbonara with ham instead of bacon. Really nice.

We lost the wind and dropped the main. Of course, the wind came back. But we had the ebb now with us, the edge of the Great Race from Correyvreckan.

I can't look at a map, let alone be in the area, without thinking about Powell and Pressburger's lovely film “I Know Where I'm Going”. How anyone would get stuck in Correyvreckan on the way from Mull to Colonsay beats me. But it's an amazing piece of film making. The tale of the production is a story in its own right. But the film is wonderful as a finished piece too. There is Gaelic in it, and a glimpse of a culture on the edge, in both space and time. It's a bit like the more famous “Quiet Man” in that way. Both are also fine romantic comedies.

It was looking like we would be on time for the tide through the Sound of Islay. In fact, we think we made it by the skin of our teeth.

We headed into the Sound and the speed got up to 6 to 7 knots. We passed Bunnabhainn distillery and the new Ardnahoe one, and then Caol Isla. The big Calmac ferry was moored at Askaig, ready to head to West Loch Tarbert in the morning.

The CCC instructions for the anchorage by Am Fraoch Eilean say to turn out of the stream onto the Jura side after Glas Eilean and, when clear to do so, head for the Boathouse. There is a big rock called Sgeir nan Sian and you anchor 1 cable east of it in 4 m. It all went beautifully to plan. But as we got to the South end of Glas Eilean, we got tide against us. It was only 21:06 and we thought the north going stream would start at 22:00. We just made it!

We were safely anchored and snug in bed by midnight, after a rather poor attempt at planning what to do tomorrow. We were tired again.

A long and tiring day

After a long and sheltered stay in Lochboisdale Marina, while Julian learnt more Gaelic and danced “reels and quadrilles” it was time to set off south. We had a guest sailing with us, hoping to go all the way to Port Dinorwic with us. Mary, an experienced small yacht sailor, had just finished a trip on Eda Fransen, and had asked to join us for a change.

We left Lochboisdale at 07:20 with a forecast of N or NE 3-5. The wind felt quite strong as we left the marina, and we had bent on the no.2 jib. As soon as we had enough sea room I put Robinetta head to wind so Julian could raise the main sail, and he hoisted it with a couple of rolls of sail reefed round the boom. There were noticeable waves here, and they got bigger as we cleared the entrance to the loch.

Our course towards the south end of Mull put the wind just aft of the beam, a lovely point of sail for a gaffer. There was no gybe risk, but I asked Julian to set the preventer to stop the boom lifting too much in the swell. All 3 of us were in the cockpit, being rather rolled around, and when Julian went onto the cabin roof without putting on his lifejacket and stop Mary and I were a bit taken aback. Luckily there were no big waves while he was up there and he got back to the cockpit without incident, but Mary and I both had our hearts in our mouths, and told him off for being reckless.

The point of sail was good, but steering in the swell was very hard work and after an hour of it I handed the helm over to Julian. 20 minutes later he asked for a reef. We were sailing at about 6 knots, and he was worried about stressing the rig. Mary went below to give us room in the cockpit and we put the engine on to go head to wind. I tried pulling the reef in, but there was too much wind in the sail, so Julian had to swop with me. He was able to get the reef in, and we ended up reefed right down to the lower main sail baton, which is all the reef we can put in. We went back on course at a more reasonable speed.

Mary came back up into the cockpit as soon as she could; being below had made her feel a bit seasick. I did not blame her. I had felt queasy when in the cabin, and I am used to Robinetta’s motion in heavy seas. Neither of us felt like eating any breakfast, just a ginger biscuit, which settled my stomach, but made Mary feel worse.

A couple of hours later we went head to wind to shake out half the reef, and this time when Mary came back up she was in a bit of a rush, to be sick over the side. In another couple hours we went head to wind to shake out all the reef, and Mary was sick again. She was not having fun.

By the time we had got to within 5 miles to the west of Coll the engine had to go on to propel us on our way. We were still being rolled around by the waves, but they were slowly decreasing. Our sail was doing nothing and centered against the swell, but with the wind now dead astern it filled and backed every now and then, stressing the rig. We decided to bring it down. Mary went down again for the process, and when she came up she was sick again.

We rounded the top of Coll inside the outer most breaking rock, and headed due south. There were no breaking waves now, but still some swell that had Robinetta rolling a bit.

After about half an hour Mary confessed that the trip was a bit more stressful than she had expected. Today had shown her that she could no longer cope with small yacht sailing. She would need a day ashore to recover from the conditions today, but knew we needed to keep heading south if we were to make our meeting at Port Dinorwic. She decided to head home.

Before we invited Mary aboard I had promised not to kick her off Robinetta in a place with no public transport, so now the hunt was on for a good place to set her ashore. We would be able to reach the sound of Iona this evening and there would be busses tomorrow, but getting her ashore would be tricky.

Our original plan had been to anchor at Gometra Harbour, which we would reach at about 21:00. Instead we could head for the pontoons at Ulva Ferry, which were only 1 nm further if we took the tricky north entrance. This was a passage Julian was keen to try, and we had the Antares charts for it, but there is a patch with only 1 m above chart datum, and we would be there just an hour before low water. Julian checked the tides, and there should be 1.3 m of tide, giving Robinetta at least 1 m beneath the keel. We decided to go for it.

There is a community bus from Ulva Ferry that meets the bus from Tobermory to the ferry at Craignure.

Mary phoned the harbour master at Ulva Ferry, who confirmed there was space to go alongside, so we headed into Loch Tuath. The seas went flat as we did so, so we put the tiller pilot, George, to work and I went below to cook. Mary did not want much, but Julian and I had new potatoes, baked beans, and ham, for a much needed meal.

The passage through Ulva sound is quite short, but not for the faint hearted. We got the lines and fenders ready before we entered it, then Julian acted as pilot, giving careful instructions to me on the helm. Our least depth below the keel was 0.8 m, then we were through and approaching the pontoon.

A helpful person appeared from one of the already moored up yachts, and we were moored up with his help at 21:18.

Mary spotted what we hadn't. The bus has to be ordered by 16:00 the previous day. She left a message anyway.

It had been a long and tiring day.

Windy

 We had a really relaxing day yesterday, meeting the other visitors and moving Robinetta to a berth the Harbour Master was happy for us to stay in.

We met a nice chap who had come over on someone's yacht and was then off to Barra to fly out. He enjoyed seeing Robinetta and hearing about our adventures.

He told us he lives on an island near Bardsey.

We were having coffee in the Bakery at Lochboisdale when he left for the bus to the Eriskay to Barra ferry.

After he had left, we discovered that we were the only people who didn't know who he was. It was Bear Grylls.

The strong winds were due in from 16:00. They came early at 15:57.

It's been the most steady forecasts I think I've ever known.

I woke up about 2:30 am and realised Worm wasn't tied down. I put a coat on and went out. The wind was really strong but not cold and it was dry.

I tied her down fore and aft. 

The wind was coming in strongly on the starboard side of Robinetta, pushing her against the pontoon. I got another line from the starboard winch to a cleat on the pontoon but I couldn't get much tension on it.

I got Alison up to help and I pushed Robinetta out while Alison tried to shorten the line. It didn't really work. So we got another line out, the long shore line, and ran it from the stern to the same cleat. I could pull Robinetta out with that. It was better and took the worst of the force off the fenders. Alison added our last fender and we left it at that.

This morning, the wind started easing. Robinetta had come through fine.

Safe in South Uist

 We planned a reasonably early start today, as the weather dictated we get across to South Uist today is we wanted to be there for the weekend, and 52nm is a long haul at Robinetta speed. Julian had set the alarm for 06:30, but we were both awake by 06:00, so that is when the kettle went on. We did not want to leave without visiting the Tobermory Stores to buy a couple of their excellent pies, and they opened at 07:00, so we actually had a leisurely start to the day, backing off the pontoon at 07:25. Julian set up the no.1 jib as we motored out of the bay, then we went head to wind to raise the main in the flat water of the Sound of Mull.

The wind was directly behind us once we were on course, so we centred the main sail and staysail, and left the jib furled.

Once clear of the Sound of Mull the seas stayed slight, although Robinetta rolled gently. We let the main sail out a little to try and use it, but the wind was light, and not in a good direction for where we wanted to go. With a possible force 8 later tomorrow we just wanted to get across the Minch into good shelter as soon as possible, so the motor stayed on. It stayed on all day.

The swell increased, with some confused cross seas as we got further offshore, making it difficult to hold the course of 310°M that took us straight across the Little Minch to our destination of Loch Boisdale. Julian and I took turn and turn about hand steering for 2 hour each from 09:30 which was. hard work. By 12:30 the main was just slatting about in the swell, doing itself and Robinetta no favours, so we went head to wind and Julian got it down, managing an amazingly tidy stow in the conditions.

The day ground on, poor visibility, swell that threw us around, and no wind. By 15:35 the swell was regular enough that I wanted to put George on duty: our tiller pilot is a lot better at steering a straight course than any human. Luckily he managed the swell well, and the rest of the afternoon was easier on the person on watch.

motoring towards the hidden land

Despite occasional sightings of blue sky ahead South Uist stayed stubbornly hidden in clouds, and we could not pick out our destination until we were less than 2 miles off. The swell went down though, and our chart plotter took us to the right place. We were tied up on a pontoon in Loch Boisdale Marina at 20:00, and the engine went off after 12 and a half hours of sterling service.

The Harbour Master might ask us to move tomorrow and leave this berth available for a bigger boat, but for now we were staying put.

I tidied Robinetta up while Julian made dinner (those excellent pies with new potatoes and baked beans). We had beaten tomorrow's forecast force 8 gale. Getting here had been a struggle, but the weather for the next five days meant we had had to arrive very early or not at all.

A good day's sailing

A mooch in the chandlery at Croabh Marina yielded a good haul. We now have a new (floating) towing line for Worm, and an 8mm buff braid line for the head halyard hardener. Amazingly they also had a stock of different sizes of teak plugs to cover screw heads, and would sell them individually, so I stocked up.

We were away from our berth at 09:26, and motored out into the loch. After discussing our sail options (which included not raising the main since we might be on a run) we raised a slightly reefed main sail, staysail, and no 2 jib and headed on a very broad reach towards Torsa in flat seas. We expected to gybe as we turned for the north end of that island, but we never headed to change Robinetta’s heading as the tide took us north instead. The wind was strong, and took us along at over 5 knots, meaning we arrived at the top of Torsa early, at 10:30, and the tide was not due to be with us until 11:00. However once we had gone head to wind to reef down we were at slack water and our engine could easily take us through the sound.

As we left Cuan Sound we encountered a very different sea state. Big (for us) waves threw is around as we motor sailed across then towards Easdale Sound. However the wavelength was long enough that the rolling was not threatening, and they caused us no problems entering Easdale Sound. The water here was flat, and with the chart plotter and depth gauge easily visible in the cockpit Robinetta went through without problems.

Coming out of the shelter of Easdale into the Sound of Inch we felt the full majesty of the sea; big regular waves, with the wind behind them. Once clear of Inch we motor sailed up the Sound of Lorne, heading due north towards the Sound of Mull, rocking and rolling for 2 hours. Every so often the stay sail flopped over, giving notice of a possible gybe as the waves rolled Robinetta, but the main sail stayed solidly in place, only once threatening to come over. A quick request to Julian to set the preventer meant there were no other threats.

An atmospheric view of Mull

As we reached Duart castle the seas flattened out and we set the jib then turned the engine off to broad reach into the Sound of Mull. We shook the reef our just past the castle and had half an hour of sailing before the wind failed and the engine went back on.

Duart Castle from the South

The fifteen miles up the Sound to Tobermory saw the engine go on and off several times as the wind came and went, as did the drizzle. The final 3 miles of the trip saw us broad reaching at over 5 knots, in an exhilarating sail that only ended as we turned into Tobermory Bay and got the sails down.

I had called ahead, knowing that the marina office would be shut by the time we got there, so I had the code for the showers and shore heads, and after doing a bit of shopping we showered, before heading out for a curry. It had been a great day’s sailing

Running up the Sound of Jura

We went to bed about 8pm last night, with a 4:30 alarm set.

It took about an hour this morning to get ready to leave. Some of that was due to the No 2 jib being wound the other way round from the No 1. It unfurled when I raised it. Luckily, there was a turn left round the drum so they should now both be the same way round. Having the end of the bowsprit by the pontoon was nice too. I could sort the problem standing on the pontoon.

It was calm as we left, and the sun has come out. It was going to be a beautiful day. We deserve one! Out in the bay there was a gentle southerly, but we were expecting more so I raised the main with a deep reef.

We sailed out on a lovely beam reach, gradually bending around Texa and onto a broad reach. The wind wasn't strong enough to warrant the reef, so we shook it out.

We broad reached for a while but the route was really a run. Eventually, we gave up gybing and swapped the jib for the "blue" sail. A spinnaker we were gifted a few years ago that we fly on long downwind days.

In the past we have flown it with one corner tied to the bowsprit and raised on the topsail halyard. This time I just used the jib halyard and tied on the jib sheets and flew it symmetrically. It worked really well. I tied the corners down on extra lines to the chain plates.

That got us to within 10 miles of Craobh. For some of the time we were doing a solid 6.8 knots.

The last bit was done under engine and staysail. More to keep control through the islands than for any other reason.

It was a grand day.

Putting things back

Another maintenance day.

I finished installing the new cable run to the accessories. It goes down the starboard side now. A simpler run. I've moved the trunking over and the running and anchor light cables now use it as well as the accessories.

The accessories didn't work. The same problem I had before. I looked in the switch box in more detail and found the problem. The spring in the fuse holder has partly failed. I've put some pressure on it with a piece of twine and it's working. We need a new fuse holder.

I replaced the tiller pilot cable with the same stuff I used for the accessories run. It's thick copper strands so the voltage drop should be minimal.

I put the solar panel wiring back the way it was but I have made the routing a bit better.

What a day!

In order to get round the Mull of Kintyre with the most favourable tide we needed to be away from the anchorage at 08:30. This was not a problem as swell had started coming into the anchorage around 5 a.m and we were both wide awake. Scooby Doo left half an hour earlier and we could still see her as we motored west, and Good Craic was hauling up her anchor ass we left.

As we left Sanda, Alison was keen to get close in to the Mull but we could tell we already had the tide with us so we aimed to get close in by the time we got to the west end of Carskey Bay.

We got the main up but there wasn't much wind. Then we saw that Good Craic was just outside us and seemed to be broad reaching. So we throttled back and had a go. It was also an opportunity to try the boom end preventer suggested by Brian Duff. It worked OK but we need to make it more efficient.

Then the wind went ahead and both Good Craic and ourselves went back to motoring. Alison went down below gto write up yesterday's blog. 

After a while, I decided to peak up. There was a crack and the gaff came part down. The peak hardener line had parted. The top fiddle block ran up to the turning block and stuck, stopping the gaff falling all the way down.

Alison came up and I asked her to drop the main fully. The throat did not want to come down fully, and it was rough enough that she needed to put on her lifejacket and safety strop before going forward to pull it down. We only managed to get one sail tie on, but it held the sail in place for the moment.

We motored on. 

We have done this passage before and the forecast suggested would be similar this time. But we got much stronger winds today. At times the wind was so strong on the nose that I could hardly keep course. The bow was being blown and pushed by the waves really strongly.

And of course, wind on the nose meant wind over tide, with overalls.

The line of overfalls off the corner west of Sron Uamha was especially violent. We got through but it was very hard work. The sail worked loose and getting another sail tie on was a risky task. Luckily, the sea state was better on the other side.

Then we should have been able to turn and head out to Islay, but the sea was horrible. Alison said it would calm down about a mile further north. So we headed towards Macrahanish Bay.

We got have done this before and just as before, we got more favourable tide. We got up to well over 6 knots over the ground.

Alison was right. We could see the point where the confused seas between the inner and outer channels round the Mull resolved. Beyond that was cleaner water. We headed onto course to Port Ellen.

The rest of the trip was fast and uneventful. I spent some of the time getting rid of the suspect accessories wiring and running new. In Port Ellen, there was a dredger at work but there was enough room around it and space on the pontoons.

We slipped into a berth straight ahead, and next to Sgarbh, a lovely varnished gaff ketch MFV.

I stepped ashore with a bow line and then Alison shouted at me for help. I made the line off and went to catch hers. As I tied us on loosely, Alison said there was a smell of hot plastic and smoke and the chart plotter had turned off.

I got on board and started looking. There was smoke in the cockpit but it was coming from the engine compartment. I went below and opened the hatch. I could see flames!

We have a new fire extinguisher in the engine compartment. I pulled out the pin and gave a squirt. The flames went out. I gave one more squirt and worked out that the flames had come from the power cable to the socket we plug George into. But the main damage was to the heavy duty cable from the alternator to the battery switch.

Fire out, we finished getting tied up. I started getting the burned cable off. It went right under the engine and was bolted to the solenoid. When I tried to get the nut undone, the stud sheared.

I got the cable out, leaving a mousing line to help fit it's replacement, and then decided to call Islay Marine. They said someone could come along but might not be able to do anything. I disconnected everything around the battery side of things to make any diagnosis easier.

The engineer knew what he was doing. He said he could make us a new cable and we discussed the problem of the broken connector on the solenoid. We decided we could just about use the broken stud if we only had one cable to attach. He spotted that the old cable had a hole in the insulation in the middle and the copper was totally corroded. That would be enough to make it overheat.

He went off to to other work. The weather was quite nice now and Alison was prepared to go up the mast to fetch the fiddle block of the peak halyard hardener.

I hauled her up on the jib halyard and she got a rope tied on and I was able to pull the block down. I got a piece of the old dynema topsail halyard and ran it round the blocks but it wasn't quite long enough. But it can be sorted later.

Alison and I went to SeaSalt to get fish and chips. While we were there, the engineer stopped in his van. He'd already made us a new cable, plus another short length we could use to join the two cables together. He also gave us a nut that would fit the stub of the solenoid stub.

I went back to the boat while Alison waited for our suppers. I got the new short cable on the solenoid and bolted the new long cable and the cable to the start switch to it.

Then Alison arrived with the food. After food, and a cup of tea, I got the new cable fitted and connected everything back up again, except the burned cable for George and the solar panel connectors. I want to do something different for that. We tested things and we now have a working engine and working instruments and house electrics again. And, the electric bilge pump of course!

I need a beer.

A lovely afternoon

Davar island 

We left Campbeltown Marina at 15:00 in bright sunshine with a slight breeze. Raising sail in the flat calm of Campbeltown Loch seemed ideal. Unfortunately by the time we had rounded Davar Island and were heading for Sanda the wind had died to nothing, and we were motoring in an oily calm. We lowered the main sail to decrease its UV damage, and covered ourselves in suncream to reduce ours. It was so hot that we both stripped down to shorts. Its not often I sunbathe topless!

2 yachts came past us, heading for Campbeltown. The second had a pod of dolphins playing around it, and as we passed each other the dolphins decided to change their playground. At one point we had 6 adult bottlenosed dolphins under our bowsprit! Then the Kintyre Flyer express came past heading back to Campbeltown, and Robinetta was abandoned for the speedier boat (which slowed down when the dolphins were spotted).

Dolphins on the bow

Julian laid out 20m of chain as we approached Sanda. We would be there an hour before high water, with an expected tidal range of 2m, so we were looking to anchor with 3-4m beneath the keel and an easy haul up in the morning.

There were two yachts already at anchor, leaving plenty of room, and we soon found a spot in our desired depth.

By 19:15 we were securely anchored, and I put on a risotto pack to cook. This requested a glass of white wine in the cooking liquid, but the only white wine on board was a bottle of Cava… This went down beautifully to celebrate the resolution of our battery charging problem. We had a lovely relaxed evening in a warm, sunny, and beautiful spot.

Alternator Woes

Yesterday, when we realised the batteries were not charging with the engine on, we looked up charging problems in our copy of Nigel Calder's Marine Diesel engines Book. It was quite doom laden. It basically says that if the belt is tight enough, the alternator is probably broken. It goes on to say how fragile alternators are.

I checked the belt. It was loose. Tightening it is quite difficult. Getting a line around and hauling on a winch did the trick. It didn't help.

Once in Campbeltown, ee came up with multiple ideas for how to survive without being able to charge the batteries from the engine but none were good.

There is a Yanmar group on Facebook where I've got good advice there in the past, although members in the US have a very different experience of parts and maintenance than we do in Scotland.

Some people on the group were very dismissive of what I had read in Calder. The consensus is that alternators are very robust and I should check the wiring first. That was very reassuring. Wiring is something I know how to check!

They also said that the charging warning lamp can fail and this stops charging. I read the manual and it says to always check that the light comes on and then goes out. But our light has never come on!

Then we had our next new problem. My DMM was on the blink. The display wasn't showing all segments and I could work out what it was saying. I checked the battery and it was good. Another thing that needed replacing.

We got shore power so at least we could charge our tech. I also got out our mains car battery charger. It's almost never been used. It seemed ok at first but then started giving strange readings and the mode button wouldn't do anything. Our third problem.

First thing this morning I copied out the wiring diagram from the owners handbook, including only the relevant parts. With a new understanding of the wiring, I could come up with some tests. Once I had a new DMM.

We went shopping. There is a big shop near the Co-op which is Campbeltown's emporium for everything farmers might need. They had a DMM, but no battery charger. We got a new one in another shop.

Now I could do some checks. After trying everything on the warning light path and none of my tests passing, I spotted something that wasn't on the diagram. A dull orange plastic box marked "relay".

It was clearly in-line between the alternator and the control panel, and in poor condition. I took the lid off and it was very unlikely to be working.

I took a picture and put it on the FB group and also searched the web for Yanmar and Relay. Yes! There was a YBW forum post from someone with exactly our symptoms. The consensus was that this is fitted to keep the alternator out of circuit during starting to reduce the load on the starter motor. The recommendation was to remove it.

The plug in the Yanmar wiring harness that is meant to go into the alternator was plugged into an inline socket connected to the relay and a plug of the same type went to the relay as well and was plugged into the alternator. So it was easy to take the relay out.

Success! The warning light now comes on and goes off and the engine still starts and the voltage display on the chart plotter show the voltage increases when the engine is on.

 

I cut the relay off and taped up the rest of the extra wiring. If we need to put a new relay in, we can just crimp some new spade terminals on the wires.

I'll get in touch with French Marine, who installed the engine and check this is the right answer permanently but for now it's panic over.

But it looks like we need to sort the stern gland again...

Regatta viewing and battery worries

We left Kip 07:50 and motored down Clyde towards Largs to see the start of that day’s race for the Richard Mille Regatta. This had attracted a selection of smart classic gaff rigged racing yachts of various sizes, and we wanted to see them.

 There was a bit of a breeze coming up the Clyde, so we motored towards Toward as we got the main sail up then turned towards Largs and sailed. When I went below to log the engine going off I noticed that there was more water in the bilges than I expected. I pressed the switch to manually start the bilge pump, and I could hear it working, but Julian could not see any water coming out. The pump was blocked again.

We are so used to this happening now that Julian went below while I took the helm, and after 15 minutes the bilge pump was restored to full function again, after he cleared the non-return valve. We continued sailing until just gone 09:00 when the wind faded away, and the engine went on again.

We got to the north end of Great Cumbrae at 10:20 and could see some smart classic racing yachts coming towards us, so we lowered the engine revs, and hung around waiting for them. Then we turned the engine off and drifted around admiring the yachts. We approached one of the smaller ones and asked what the course would be, and was told they did not know yet!

looking up the Clyde 

Arran in the background

We hung around as long as seemed sensible, trying to stay clear of any where where the start line might be, and after a while we were heading down the Clyde on the outside of Great Cumbrae at about 2 knots, carried by the tide and a little wind to give us steerage way. It did not look like the race was going to start any time soon, so at 11:35 we put the engine on and headed towards the end of Bute.

Our chart-plotter showed that the reported charge on our batteries was only 12V, which was lower than we expected, and it did not increase as we used the engine. We hooked the solar panel back up to charge the battery, but it did not seem to do much despite the sunshine. This was worrying. Julian went below to check the alternator belt. He thought it might be a little loose, so we turned the engine off again so he could tighten it. We sailed along nicely, and I got the jib out which took our speed up to around 3 knots, and I had a lovely sail while Julian sweated over the engine, tightening the alternator belt…

We stayed sailing even after Julian finished below, and only reluctantly turned the engine back as we turned to head north of Arran, which put the wind on the nose. The reported battery voltage stayed at 12V for a while, then dropped to 11.9V.

We did not get any more usable wind all the way to Campbeltown, and we worried and planned what to do it the alternator needed replacing. The thing to do first was hook up to shore power at the marina, and charge the battery, but would we get a berth? The marina manager said they were pretty busy when I phoned him at 3pm, and we would not be there for another 6 hours…

Campbeltown Marina is pretty small, and I got the bowsprit in as we approached, there were yachts on the outer pontoon we could raft against, but as I called to ask permission the reply I got was that a yacht had just left, and there was a pontoon berth free. He then walked along to it and helped us moor up.

We turned the engine off at 21:10, and headed straight for the Co-Op.