Around the Buoys

Irish Sigma 33  Newsletter

September 2009

Letter from the Editor

I hope you all had a great Christmas and got a in a little snow balling or tobogganing as the big freeze set in.

As you know Paddy Maguire has agreed to take on a second year as class captain and I understand that negotiations are well under way for a vice captain. Watch this site for further developments.

The new website has been running for well over a year and is now averaging more than 8 hits a day and still climbing. So it is good to see someone is using it. We changed the design somewhat mid season to make it a little more pleasing on the eye which met with general approval. Please let me know if there is anything you would like to see on the site and we can see what  can be done.

Even though the weather has not been kind to us this year it has offered some exciting challenges for the Sigma 33 fleet. On Elandra we went with White Mischief to Tarbert in Scotland to take part in the UK Championships. Meeting other Sigma 33 crew and swopping stories added to my education of Sigmas both on and off the water. Tarbert is a beautiful place, but one has to admit they do get some serious weather. Then it was a quick trip with a lay over at Campbelltown to Bangor for the Irish Championships. A total of eight boats made the journey from Dun Laoghaire making it a truely island of Ireland championship. Hats off to Conor Colleary and his crew who sailed up overnight, collected their instructions and shot back out again in time for the second race. White Mischief held on to keep the trophy for another year. Will Tim Goodbody go for the trifecta next year I wonder? Later in the year their was the Dun Laoghaire regatta and who could forget the Saturday race in Killiney bay with the race starting in soupy fog and finishing in force 6 wind and heavy seas. Then there was the Nora Barnacle charity race where €24,000 was raised for charity with a record turnout of 11 boats. And finally, my favourite race as we wound down to Christmas is the Turkey Shoot run by Fintan Cairns and his cronies. Unfortunately the weather put paid to half the planned races and with the bitter cold towards the end of the series it was preferable to stay home under the bed covers. However these are but the highlights of what was a very busy year and who knows what 2010 will bring.

At last we have a contributor to the newsletter with a well written article from Dick Lovegrove on his trials and tribulations in Scotland last year. I strongly recommend you follow the trip via Google Earth that will give you great photos of the towns visited and an idea of the track taken. Which reminds me, Elandra will be going South in June to A Coruna in Northern Spain to get some serious sea miles. Still some some vacancies if we have anyone mad enough to join us out there! Even better, could we convince another Sigma 33 to join us?

And finally, check out the photos by Bobby Kerr taken at the Annual dinner last year. As you will see a good time was had by all.

Without further ado or articles I leave you to Dicks adventures in Scotland

Aubrey Leggett

One of the more amiable ways of passing an evening around the saloon table with a couple of friends and a ball or two of malt, is discussing the concept of “the gentleman’s yacht”. Of course the expression means different things to different folk. For some, “a gentleman’s yacht” would have to be wooden, while for the even more traditionalist yachtie, she would have to have at least two masts. Personally, I wouldn’t fall in to either of these camps, but I certainly find it hard to think of some modern yachts in these terms. High volume hulls have revolutionised accommodation, but with so many boats built with an eye to the charter and marina markets, genuine sea going berths are becoming a rarity. And what about modern finishes? Bright, airy and easy to clean, certainly, but are they cosy, warm and conducive to mellow conversation? Of course, all these thoughts were far from our minds, when Paddy Varian and I decided to buy our Sigma 33, Rupert in 2002. We simply wanted to race in the Dun Laoghaire One Design fleet, but I did have the words of William “Winkie” Nixon from 1979 ringing in my ears. In that year, I met him shortly after his return from the London Boat Show and some months before the fateful Fastnet and asked him if he had seen anything special. “Well, I did actually” Winkie said. “There’s a new thirty three footer by David Thomas, and she looks like a genuine cruiser racer”. Time and over four hundred boats have certainly proved him right. And since we bought her, Paddy and I have had seven years of great fun, and even some success on the race course, but my cruising has been done on other people’s yachts. With the exception of the odd delivery trip to and from places like Cork or Bangor for championships, those lovely comfortable sea berths have mostly been used for storing sails.

The first hint that something might change in 2009 came when I heard that the UK Sigma National Champioships were to be held in East Loch Tarbert, Scotland at the end of May, and were to be closely followed by the Irish National Championships in Bangor. Surely we could squeeze in a few days cruising in Rupert between these? And then the RStGYC announced that it was going to organise a cruise in company to Scotland departing Dun Laoghaire on Friday 12th June and calling at the Royal Ulster Yacht Club for dinner the following night, just six days after the end of our championships there. In the event, Paddy and I decided not to do either of the championships, (Heaven forbid that we are getting old!), but the seed of a cruise had been sown. Paddy gave me his blessing and said that he was prepared to forego racing for a couple of weeks, but he declined to come with me and said that if this cruising thing caught on, he might chance it another year!

The class rules insist that a lot of sensible cruising/offshore gear, such as a permanent saloon table, (which it takes two men to lift), is kept on board, but even so, there was a lot of work to be done to prepare Rupert for living on board. For example, we don’t use the heads much while racing around Dublin Bay and on the rare occasions when they were pressed into use, although working, they were very stiff and obviously needed a service. Also gentlemen’s cruiser/racers from the 1970’s may have nice wooden panelling, and serviceable leecloths, but they don’t have a fridge, a pressurised hot and cold water system, an autohelm, or a sprayhood large enough to shelter geraniums! They do have four individual headsails which have to be stowed somewhere and Rupert had tweed covered saloon and bunk cushions, which we are obliged to carry while racing and which had become saturated with salt water as the inevitable result of hundreds of racing sail changes and spinnaker drops. Obviously

RUPERT IN SCOTLAND.

THE CRUISE OF A GENTLEMAN’S CRUISER RACER!

By Dick Lovegrove

it didn’t make sense to tackle all these problems in one go, but some fairly fundamental work had to be done in order to give cruising Rupert a fair trial. If it was a success, we could consider some luxuries for subsequent years. I decided that dry cushions and a working heads were essential and before long

the saloon was resplendent in red leatherette which not only gave a cosy feel and was comfortable to sit on, but also could be wiped dry after each wet spinnaker came down the companion way. The heads proved a more enduring problem however. The first person to tackle it, bought and fitted a set of gaskets and a plunger and pronounced the problem solved. Wrong. Chap number two, checked the gaskets and found them in order but then pronounced the outlet pipe blocked with calcified matter. He disconnected the pipe from the seacock and cleared the last foot or so, but he said that to gain access to the entire pipe he would have to smash the panelling behind the bowl and as this was a major job it should be deferred until next winter. In the meantime he assured me that all was well now and should work all right for the duration of the cruise. Also wrong. And in addition to these two major issues and the hundreds of small tasks, which everyone planning a cruise must undertake, there were also a large number of jobs, which related purely to converting Rupert from racing mode. Jobs like finding the kettle and some anchor chain and sorting through the shed full of old sails to find a suit deemed old enough to have no possible future racing use. New gas cylinders had to be acquired and a liferaft had to be hired. Compass lights had to be checked and the handheld GPS which previously only had the DBSC racing marks programmed as waypoints, had to have exotic places such as Rockabill and South Rock downloaded! When the departure day finally arrived, I was a wreck. It was a long time since I had cruised my own yacht and taken responsibility not only for her preparation but also for the welfare of the crew, but, to my satisfaction, I had succeeded in transforming Rupert and I thought that she looked every inch the part of this particular gentleman’s cruising yacht.

We won our race in Dublin Bay on the evening of Thursday 11th June and the racing crew helped with the removal of the racing sails, the substitution of the cruising sails and the stowing of a bimini, a very small sprayhood and another anchor. Our planned departure time was 18.00 on Friday and I considered it a success when we were only two hours late slipping our lines. The cruising crew for the first week consisted of David Freeman (ICC), my son Philip and his girl friend Mary Bowen, who was to cut her sailing teeth with the passage as far as Bangor where we were to meet the rest of the RStGYC fleet for the dinner in the Royal Ulster. The conditions, while not ideal, could have been much worse. There was a southerly breeze, which was too light to sail by, but just strong enough to produce a rolly following sea, to which Mary succumbed after a short while. By 08.30 on Saturday we were where the iconic South Rock light vessel used to be, Mary was much better after a good night’s rest and the crew were relaxed in the knowledge that we should make the rendezvous in Bangor comfortably. But it is never quite that easy, and a trip forward, about a mile out from Bangor, confirmed my worst fears. The heads had packed up again!

Some of you may know Davy Taylor. He is a successful J24 sailor, a very likeable young man, and one of the foremost marine engineers in the country. He has recently set up his own company “Boatmec”. It was my good fortune and his misfortune that he had stopped off in the Bangor Marina office for a chat on his way home when I burst in, looking for some one to finally fix a recalcitrant heads on a Saturday afternoon. Davy is a friend of my daughter, who crewed with him for many years, so, with a good-natured sigh, he phoned his wife to tell her he would be late, picked up his tool bag and followed me down the marina to Rupert. After a quick inspection he asked me if it was still possible to get parts for Sigma 33s. Almost before I had time to respond he drove his knee through the panelling behind the bowl of the head and was soon on the marina pontoon wrestling with a ten foot length of yellow reinforced pipe which resembled nothing more than a giant anaconda. And when I say wrestling, I mean wrestling. He was holding it down, while beating the daylights out of it with a large mallet. Half an hour later saw several buckets, full of concrete like material, on the marina waiting for disposal and a refitted outlet pipe, which had been restored to it full working diameter. Problem solved? Well, actually, no!

The Dinner at the RUYC was great fun and with all the crews of the assembled RStGYC fleet present, there was a real sense that the cruise had now started in earnest. Efficiently marshalled by Michael Knatchbull (ICC), one of the functions of the night was to place our orders for the second cruise dinner which was to be held one week later in Oban. The menu was circulated and included, as a starter, “A Waterfront Trio”. Of course the wags present assumed that this was Seymour Cresswell, Sally Crawford and Norman Long (ICC), but in fact it turned out to be salmon, sea bass and prawns. Quite an anticlimax, really! As the night progressed, the merriment even included joined up dancing in the bar to a very lively one man band and such was the fun that, to the best of my knowledge, only one or two of the fleet caught the 03.00 northbound tide as had been planned. Certainly, our crew was barely in their bunks by that time and we decided that the 15.00 tide would be more befitting a gentleman bear of Rupert’s age and sensibility. It also gave an opportunity to have a decent breakfast and to say farewell to Mary, who we hope will join us for longer on future cruises.

Our departure on Sunday afternoon coincided with thunder, lightning, a torrential downpour and the announcement by David that the heads was playing up again. After a pow-wow we agreed that, in the past, we had both achieved good results by flushing a lubricant down the system and thereafter two tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil, applied every two or three days, kept everything working smoothly. The log records that this goes to show that the balm of Olive Oil is sometimes more efficacious than the strength of Popeye! I will pursue a permanent solution over the winter.

Rupert gets an upgrade

gently aground as we entered the harbour at Rathlin, but we came off quickly and were welcomed alongside by the friendly owner of a Rival 38. We had a great meal on board (I do like eating around a saloon table) prepared by Phil, and then headed ashore for a quiet pint. We had covered quite a few miles since we left Dun Laoghaire, forty-eight hours ago, and there was a relaxed feeling that the cruise had got off to a pretty good start. True the weather had been far from perfect, but too little wind is always better than too much and we had only had one serious rainstorm.

Before our departure from Dun Laoghaire, I had decided to buy myself a decent pair of “trainers” for walking in. Unfortunately, the only ones, which fitted me and were really comfortable, were white and silver and looked unbelievably garish. When the decision was made to go for a walk after breakfast next day and I emerged wearing my new shoes, I was immediately subjected to all sorts of ribald comments including (from David) that they looked like the sort of thing you might see tied together and hanging from the overhead wires! Anyhow, they are very comfortable and we had a lovely walk out to Altnagarry Head in increasing sunshine, rounded off with good coffee and fresh scones at a little café by the harbour. We left Church Bay at about 13.00 and with Philip doing the navigating this time, we headed westabout for Port Ellen on Islay where we tied up at 17.30 after a lovely passage and the first decent sail of the holiday

We had supper at the White Hart Inn, which was cosy with a real fire. The food was fairly standard pub fare but at £10 for a venison pie or a steak pie it wasn’t overpriced and they had a great selection of Islay malt whiskies. And so began one of the many pleasures of this cruise. Philip bought three different whiskies, each costing about Stg£4 and we drank them each in turn and then voted on them. The fascinating thing to us non-experts was the extraordinary variation in taste, but after much re-checking and consideration we voted the Laphroaig 15y.o. as the most subtle with lovely variations in taste and after taste, the Bunnahabhann 12y.o. as the one you would be happiest drinking all evening and the Bowmore 15 y.o. as the least distinctive.

Rupert with Friends in Rathlan Harbour

Oban marina, is not quite up to the standard of Ardfern, but it is still a very useful facility. It is not manned after 17.00 and we had to find a berth for ourselves. We selected one marked “Reserved” and assumed that they had known that we were coming! That night we ate at the excellent and very informal seafood restaurant, which some enterprising individuals have set up in a marquee just above the shoreline. They served magnificently tasty and wonderfully fresh oysters, langoustines and scallops, with salads and home made chips and what’s more it is unbelievably cheap. This is a little gem and it also boasts a tiny bar, which sells a small selection of wines as well as bottled and canned beer, but I don’t imagine that there would be any objection if you decided to bring your own. Back on board, it was chilly and windy so we had a little hot whisky before getting in to the scratcher. It had been another great day, with good decisions taken and a wonderful rollicking sail, which included some interesting navigation. Before falling asleep, I bored the others with my recollections of the last time I had sailed through the Dorus Mor and The Fladda, forty years ago, with Eric Hill (ICC) in the DB 24 footer Fenestra as part of West Highland Week. There were no GPSs, handheld or otherwise, in them days!

increasing to force 7 later. As often happens Plan B came to me in the middle of the night. We should make the best of the southerly winds and the fair weather promised for early on Tuesday and put in a good run northwards to Ardfern Marina on Loch Craignish. This had the added advantage that, if the weather did close in for a couple of days, we would still be well placed to make our next rendezvous with the RStG fleet in Oban.

I woke the crew early on Tuesday and we cast off in dense fog right in to the path of an incoming ferry. Fortunately, the waiting cars on the pier had given us a clue that a ferry might be imminent and we were on the look out. In the event, we had spotted the bow of the ferry coming out of the mist and had just started a 180 turn when the harbour master called on VHF to warn us. At the second attempt we made it out with no problems and very shortly afterwards the mist lifted to reveal a glorious day with bright sunshine, blue sea, white “moutons” and a fresh free wind. As we sailed past the Paps of Jura, elements of the crew were moved to verse which, fortunately, will never see print and you will have heard enough when I tell you that a connection was made between these outstanding landmarks and “Big Doris” to the north! We tied up at Ardfern at 17.45, well pleased with our passage, and our decision was further vindicated when Clyde Coastguard upgraded its forecast to a full gale with rough or very rough seas.

Dick adding heather to the bow

Philip, David and Dick relaxing on Rathlin Island

Back on board, tired but happy, we discussed the plans for Tuesday. Plan A was to go up the Sound of Islay to Colonsay and thence to Iona, but some of the enthusiasm for this plan evaporated when we discovered that, to catch the tide, it involved a 06.00 start! The final nail in its coffin was driven home when Clyde Coastguard started talking about southerly winds veering and

Next morning, it was obvious that the window, which we had come through, had closed. It was blowing much harder and again the forecast included full gale warnings for Rockall, Malin and Hebrides. From our point of view it was good to be in Oban in time for the second cruise dinner, but the problem was that we were there three days early! Excellent showers took up some of the morning and I was delighted to resume an acquaintance with Robert Beckett, who some members may know from the time when he worked for Billy and Dickie Brown at Weatherly Yachts, the builders of Ruffian yachts. .

Nevertheless, I was relieved when the engine started, as I would not have liked to attempt to come alongside or even pick up a mooring under sail in those conditions!

Ashore, we ate at the “Wide Mouth Frog” restaurant, which is attached to the marina. We had quite a wait for food and we heard some grumbles from other customers, but there is a pleasant bar to wait in and an interesting real ale called “Highlander” to help while away the time. When we were called to table, the food was worth waiting for with particularly nice seafood starters and also very good smoked haddock and home made chips for main course. Afterwards, as was becoming customary, Philip ordered whiskies costing approximately Stg£4 each and the jury of three deliberated again. This time, the Balvennie 12 y.o. double wood was declared the winner, with the Lagavulin 16 y.o. and the Ardbeg 10 y.o. tied for second place. The Ardbeg was definitely the most “peaty” of all the whiskies we sampled and might not be to everybody’s taste.

Again, we slept well and were grateful to be tied to a marina. In the morning, any improvement in the weather was very slow coming and, although the wind had veered to the west, it was still blowing a “hooly” with big squalls and almost continuous drizzle, interspersed with heavy downpours. The forecast from the marina office did show the wind veering further to westnorthwest in the afternoon, which would at least give us a free wind for the passage back to Oban. For something to do, and a bit of exercise, we decided to walk in to Oban, which is quite a bustling town without a whole lot to recommend it. They were very helpful in the tourist office and the times of buses and trains for the crew change on Sunday were all confirmed. Once back in Dunstaffnage, we headed out immediately. The wind had moderated somewhat but it was still a cold and miserable day and we opted to take it easy under reefed main alone. Back on the marina at Oban, we joined Trevor Wood (ICC) and the crew of Misty and we had another excellent, if parky, seafood meal.

Weatherwise, Saturday the 20th June wasn’t much better than the couple of days, which had preceded it, but the crew of Rupert was quite happy to take things easy and enjoyed a mighty breakfast including haggis and local sausages. The sausages had been purchased in Ardfern and it may have been the local ingredients, or possibly the absence of a fridge on Rupert which gave them their distinctive flavour. Anyhow, feeling no ill effects, we crossed by ferry to Oban and took the tour of Oban Distillery which at Stg£6 including a taste of the whisky from the barrel and a glass of the 14 y.o. was good value and  interesting. The whisky itself, also rated well and I bought a bottle to give to Paddy to encourage him to come with us next time.

Oban was also to be the location of a change of crew for Rupert and at the dinner that night we were joined by Gillian Fletcher (ICC), John Daly and Derek Osmond.  John and Derek are regulars in the racing crew and Gillian is the first substitute main sheet trimmer when we can prise her away from sailing Squibs. The dinner itself was held in the Waterfront Bar and Restaurant and was another very jolly affair. All the fleet made it despite the weather and of course there were many mighty tales to be told. None more so than by Ian French and his crew on Teal who were enjoying a wonderful cruise and who were so determined to go to Iona that, when prevented by the conditions from sailing there, they hired a Ford Transit van from the garage in Tobermory and drove there instead.

The following day saw a couple of changes. Not only did I have to say goodbye to David and Philip, who had been marvellous company and whose sailing skills and experience had made light of the conditions, but also it was the start of a change in the weather with wind and rain being slowly replaced by rising pressure, a succession of weak fronts, and mist . We left Oban in drizzle, but as we headed up the Sound of Mull this gave way to a dull but dry day with a nice sailing breeze. With the sun, metaphorically speaking, appearing over the yardarm at 13.30, we enjoyed our passage to Tobermory and we were in time to find a comfortable berth on the marina where there were already three other Sigma 33s in full cruising mode. As most of you will know, Tobermory is an attractive town with good facilities and the legendary “Mishnish Hotel”. Unfortunately, the “facilities” proved a tad contrary and shortly after we tied up, I began a personal battle with the washing and drying machines in the launderette at the head of the marina. I won’t bore you with all the details. Suffice it to say that to wash and dry my “smalls” took me nearly 24 hours and cost me about Stg£12 which is about six times their replacement value. Needless to say, no one else appeared to have any problem at all and it was the consensus on board Rupert that my difficulties stemmed from being domestically challenged and over indulged at home by the present (or should I say “the only”) Mrs. Lovegrove! We didn’t have much luck with the Mishnish either and it being Sunday evening, we managed to arrive just after they had finished serving food for the day, but we had a pleasant pint there and then ate well enough at MacGochan’s pub at the other end of the town.

Monday also dawned miserable and misty, and while I continued with the battle of the boxers which culminated in a bag of still wet laundry being brought on board, the crew attended to more important matters such as taking on diesel and water. Monday was also to be the day of our biggest adventure. As we left Tobermory there was a loose plan to visit Iona and perhaps spend the night in Tinker’s Hole. However, a powwow quickly revealed that the crew had decided that it would be wrong to travel this far north without rounding the famous headland of Ardnamurchan and qualifying to wear the heather on our bow.  With this mission accomplished, the photos taken and visibility of about a mile, we turned south again and picked up Caliach Point on the nose at about 13.00. This proved to be the last land we would see for more than eight hours. The visibility closed in totally and for the rest of the passage we had about 100 yards, occasionally lifting to perhaps half a mile.

"Dr" Gillian hands out the daily medicine!

For those of you who have not visited Ardfern Marina, I can heartily recommend it as a place to sit out a spell of bad weather. It has excellent facilities including a particularly good chandlery and there is a small but well-stocked shop and a pub, which serves good food, within easy walking distance. We also found the staff friendly and an extra bonus is the wildlife. Buzzards soared

over the trees, oystercatchers cheeped from the tide line and sea otters swam right up to the pontoons. We ate another fine meal prepared by Phil and listened rather smugly to the wind in the rigging.

On Wednesday 17th June we treated ourselves to a “lie in”and a leisurely breakfast and by so doing we missed the north going tide through the Dorus Mor and the Sound of Luing. The forecast was still force 6-8 and we spent the day pleasantly using the various facilities of the marina. As the day wore on, the forecasts seem to suggest that there might be a weather window that evening before a further deterioration on Thursday. The combined crew brainstrust determined that the tide would turn again in our favour at about 17.00 and it would take us about an hour to retrace our steps down Lough Craignish. We left at 16.05! In fact when we actually reached her, Big Doris was in particularly benign mood, much to the disappointment of those on board who hadn’t seen her when she’s roused. We put a slab in the main and hoisted the No 3 jib and we flew northwards, hitting 9.5 knots just north of Fladda. It is certainly at times like these that I appreciate Rupert’s marvellous sailing qualities and the experience gained from campaigning her hard on the race track. Mostly it was a bright evening, but just as we approached the south end of the Sound of Kerrera, we were blitzed by one of those squalls, which you can see as it comes towards you, flattening the sea and with the raindrops hopping off the water. It was gone as quickly as it came and by 20.15, when we were tying up at Oban Marine marina on the north east corner of Kerrera, the sun was out again.

But, by lunchtime, the crew was getting restless, and notwithstanding the forecast and the prospect of more great seafood, the decision was made to head for Dunstaffnage in search of a change of view. As soon as we got clear of shelter, we realised that this was a much greater challenge than yesterday. The apparent wind was between 27 and 29 knots and that was while we were running at over 7 knots under No 3 jib alone. On a couple of occasions, we actually hit 8.5 knots and out in the Firth of Lorn there was a big sea running. Once again the marvellous sailing qualities of the Sigma came to the fore and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves as we swooped and swerved our way up the Firth and around the corner in to Loch Etive.

On Rupert, we carry two handheld GPSs but we do not have a chartplotter, radar, or AIS. With strong support from Derek Osmond, who is a very experienced sailor with several transatlantic trips under his belt and his own yacht laid up in the Caribbean, I plotted a succession of waypoints bringing us down between the Treshnish Isles, Rubh’a Chaoil on Mull, and Gometra. Needless to say, we didn’t see any of them. Derek and I fixed our position every 15 minutes or so, so that any error in inputting data would show up quickly and we abandoned any plans that we had to visit Staffa. I plotted a waypoint just north of Iona in the hope that if the fog lifted, we would still have the option of sailing down the Sound of Iona. But it didn’t, so we plotted a new course to the west and although I think that at times we were less than half a mile from the shore, which, fortunately, is relatively clean, we again saw nothing. With no clearance, Tinker’s Hole was out of the question, so we decided to head for Scalasaig on Colonsay, which involved a long detour to avoid the Torran Rocks.  We had been motoring, but at 18.00 we set a course just south of west for the north end of Colonsay and this enabled us to hoist the main and make about 6 knots motor sailing. For most of this time, John was on the helm, Gillian produced a steady stream of food, tea, and coffee, while Derek and I continued to plot our progress. Briefly the visibility lifted to about a mile, but as we closed to within this range of the land, the fog rolled in again. At 20.00 there were euphoric cheers as the fog lifted to reveal a beach which we guessed was either Rubh’a Geadha on the north end of Colonsay or Newfoundland! In the belief that our troubles were over we relaxed as we followed the coast southwards towards Scalasaig, but we had cheered too soon and a couple of miles out another bank encircled us in a total blanket.

Luckily we had kept the GPS plot going, but we now had another problem in that we were being carried south at quite a speed by a strong ebb tide so that there was a risk of being swept past the entrance to the harbour without seeing it. At the waypoint off the harbour we put the helm down and headed for the shore, still without seeing anything. After a few minutes, two bright white lights appeared high up and side by side. I was aware from the chart that there are leading lights on the pier at Scalasaig, but if these were they and they were side by side we had a serious problem! We held our course and our nerve until a very large bow appeared immediately above us and under the lights, which turned out to be on the bridge of the island ferry tied up at Scalasaig pier. Gin was broken out at 21.15, thirty seconds after we tied up! We ate on board and the mood of exhilaration, and dare I say it, self-satisfaction, continued, but of course, all the plaudits are really due to the modern miracle of navigation which is GPS, even in the handheld form.

The gods must have approved our adventure, because it is hard to imagine a day more different than the one that followed. We were woken at 06.00 by glorious sunshine flooding in to the saloon from a clear blue sky. Plans were laid over another leisurely breakfast. Having covered more than 60 miles the previous day, we now found ourselves ahead of schedule again and we could afford some time out. Exercise was called for and we spent the morning walking around the island, enjoying the sunshine, the scenery and the wildlife, including another sea otter, which crossed the road in front of us. We ended up in the hotel, where we rewarded ourselves with a couple of beers, brewed at the island’s micro brewery, and some really good smoked salmon sandwiches made with home baked bread.  We were faced with the choice of staying put and dining in the hotel again that night (very tempting) or heading on, and in the event the “headers on” won the day. We cast off at 16.45 and with John on the helm, and a fair tide we shot through the Sound of Islay hitting 11 knots over the ground at one point. Once through the Sound, we headed north and picked up a mooring in the attractive anchorage at Craighouse on Jura. We inflated the dinghy, but after a good meal around the saloon table and a couple of tongue loosening libations, going ashore seemed surplus to requirements.(This is what I mean by a cosy saloon being conducive to mellow conversation). In the course of our chat, we were visited by six swans, which caused John to observe that if the young ones formed a circle it would make a signet ring and Derek to ask if throwing maize on the male would give you corn on the cob. Oh dear. Perhaps we should have gone ashore!

Wednesday the 24th June was another wonderful day. We all went ashore and I pottered around this pretty village while the rest of the crew toured the Jura Distillery and sampled its product. When we met up again, we had lunch and visited the restored Puffer “VIC 32” which was berthed at the jetty and which is available for charter and was much enjoyed by a party from the RStGYC earlier in the season. In the afternoon sunshine, we drifted back to Rupert and decided to head for Gigha. To my surprise, Ardminish Bay was crowded and all the mooring buoys were taken, so, for the first time on this cruise, we would have to lie to an anchor. Anchoring, of course, is another of cruising’s dark arts which I needed to relearn, but we worked out the depth (4.4 m.), buoyed and laid out our 25lb. CQR, and paid out 12m. of stout chain and 10m. of warp.(Notice the facility with which I mix metric and imperial!). It was another beautiful evening, with hardly a zephyr of breeze, and of course at that time of year there is virtually no darkness, so after a pleasant meal at the restaurant at the head of the slip, we went for a gentle stroll. Back on board, by way of a nightcap, we put the Old Pulteney whisky, which Derek had purchased, to the test and it stood up well!

An hour later, I woke up smartly in the certain knowledge that all was not well. Derek was already in the companionway and he confirmed that it was now blowing quite hard from the east, kicking up a lumpy short sea and leaving us on a lee shore. Our anchor was at full stretch and while we were not dangerously close to anyone else, we had fallen back towards two yachts, which were on moorings and, of course, had not fallen back to the same degree. There was no immediate problem, but I decided to set an anchor watch and as I settled down to take the first shift, Derek drew my attention to the fact that the dinghy and the engine, which had been attached to a cleat on the stern, were gone.  Later, at about 04.00, while on his own watch, Derek spotted them high and dry on the rocky foreshore. By then, the wind had got up to more than 20 knots and the sea had increased proportionately. It was broad daylight and normally, I would have lifted the anchor and headed out, but I was reluctant to abandon the dinghy, even though I didn’t have much hope of retrieving it in working order. Around 06.00 a gentleman (who we now know as Blessed St Andrew!) appeared in sleeping attire on the bow of a neighbouring Clyde Cruising Club yacht called Sarabanda. When he had finished adjusting his anchor chain, I gave him a call on the VHF and rather tentatively asked him if he would bring us ashore to collect the dinghy. To my relief, he was very pleasant, but said that he was on his own and that he hadn’t had much sleep because of the conditions. He said that if I could give him a couple of hours to have a nap, he would be pleased to help. In fact, no more than an hour later, he climbed in to his dinghy and ferried John and Derek ashore from where they collected both dinghy and engine completely unharmed. The moral of the story is that a bowline is a very fine knot  but needs to be kept under tension!

And that really ends the adventures of Rupert and his (or should it be her) friends in Scotland. With order restored and a good breakfast under our belts, we raised the anchor, the mainsail and the No.3 jib and with more than 20 knots of wind on the beam, a fair tide and bright sunshine we had a sparkling sail to Glenarm. John, at the helm, was whooping with the exhilaration of it all and even when the wind fell light as we closed the Antrim coast, we continued to sail for the sheer pleasure of it. I hadn’t visited the marina at Glenarm before, but it is a fine facility, very conveniently located and we received a warm welcome, so I would definitely use it again as a stepping stone to Scotland. The following day, Friday 26th June, we had an easy sail as far as Ardglass, setting the No 2 jib, (on the basis that it was the only sail in the locker, which we hadn’t used thus far!). On Saturday the weather returned to dull and misty and we returned to Dun Laoghaire. We never saw Lambay Island although we passed very close to it, but after our earlier adventures this seemed like small beer. We did pass through a pod of Minke whales, which caused much more excitement and we also had dolphins surfing from side to side on our bow wave.

Overall, it was a highly successful, challenging, and thoroughly entertaining cruise, which definitely whetted my appetite to do more of the same in my own boat. In the second week as in the first, I was blessed with an experienced, talented and compatible crew and having people on board who know what to do and do it, when the challenges come, removes all the stress. My thanks to all of them. And what of Rupert? Well, she is back in racing mode and we have had a most enjoyable and reasonably successful season. But sometimes after racing, over a pint, those of the crew who were in Scotland remember some of the adventures, some of the places which we particularly liked or some of the things which made us laugh and the unspoken question is “ Where will we go next year?” We will have to see. But one thing is certain, Rupert is up for it. It is a particular pleasure (and a safety factor) to cruise a boat that performs so well and is so easy to sail. She is cosy and comfortable for three or four people and her Scottish cruise proved beyond doubt that with minimal upgrading she is very close to this sailor’s (perhaps “gentleman’s” is a bit presumptuous) ideal cruising yacht.

But while I am on the subject of gentlemen’s yachts, at the ICC East Coast “Get Together” at Malahide later in the summer, I watched “Sceolaing” the Nicholson 43 now owned by John Delap (ICC) and formerly owned by Leslie Dacus, Sam Dix and of course Dermod Ryan, coming in. Now there’s a boat! Hmmm.

P.S. “And the winner of the 2009 “Rupert” for Scotch whisky is…………the Balvenie!

Dick Derek and Gillian North of Arnnamurchan

Our passage northwards was easy, with the prevailing light southerly winds again obliging us to motor. Visability came and went, but there was a clearance later and Fair Head looked magnificent in the evening sunlight with a fine rainbow over it. Due to an error by the navigator (he thought he was in Islay!), we ran