What’s the Story in Dalamory

Extract from Journal: Friday 12 July 2003

The moon is rising above the trees, the frogs are croaking, fish are jumping and there is the distant sound of traffic and the occasional firework. An idyllic spot – somewhere up the river. The temperature hit the bikini scale today (ie 35C). ….. The French at play are at their best. The river is delighted in by small boys diving and jumping off bridges, jet-skiers, water-skiers, windsurfers and swimmers. The banks are colonised with small tents, fishers, joggers, cyclists and walkers.

My o­nly comment o­n this is to say – but they've got the weather.

2003 saw a different kind of “sailing” holiday….. Hal – by then Halcyon of Seil (she had to be renamed in order to be registered abroad) was in the French canal/river system.

Thursday 10 July 2003
It is becoming increasingly evident that we are by nature a crew of lazy beans in the morning. We more than make up for it later in the day by increasing the pace to near-frenetic running about. Typical that such increase is exponential to the temperature. In other words, when it is hottest and the Lyonaise are resting, we Brits wake up and charge about.

You know what they say about mad dogs and “Englishmen”….

Written about later o­n in the week at Ramsey…..
(I had drawn a diagram of the veritcal ladder up the side of the harbour.)

It deserves mention, if for nothing else then for the remarkable fact that none of us complained or whinged about taking life in hand; not even the dog, who had to suffer the indignity of various means of getting her up and down. It was unfortunate that the best method involved the Captain dropping his trousers to stuff jacket inside – partially zipping up jacket under tightly belted trousers, making a pouch like a kangaroo and then stuffing the dog inside. It was even more unfortunate that o­ne of these performances was viewed by a 14yr old RSPCA member. She was vociferous in her demands as to what he was doing to that dog; declared her credentials and stood by – whether to hit the Captain o­n the head and rescue the dog or to summon help (and presumably a firing squad) – was not clear.

My comments here about a firing squad reflect the way I found life o­n the Isle of Man quite difficult. It was a bit like going back 40yrs in time to a closed type of society. Maybe my reaction said more about my own state of mind at the time.

Boating in 1995 – the first year of Hal – was eventful to say the least. After the new engine was fitted and the boat taken back to its home base at Maryport, the idea of a trip to Ireland was mooted. All seemed well, but it was not to be so for long….. A force 5/6 blew up whilst we were crossing the Irish Sea, necessitating a stop off at Ramsey. I was extremely sick…..so was the dog. She was as sick as a dog and so was I. Apparently the waves were the size of houses, but by then I was not looking.

This is what I wrote o­n 29 August 1995
What can I say about 9hrs of misery? The trouble is – I am a round Cape Horn person in my heart, but absolutely useless in practice.

Makes me wonder why I go back o­nto a small yacht with monotonous regularity.

Funny how often there are breakdowns, incidents at sea…etc. Boating is like that. At the end of the Shake-Down cruise in the summer of 1995 there was a problem with the engine. Something major happened – cannot remember exactly what. But Halcyon ended up in Troon marina getting a whole new engine.

Wounded boat then.
Wounded boat now.

You really need to know the tune of The Hokey Cokey to appreciate this extract from 5 July 1995 written after arriving at Tarbert, Loch Fyne.

You put the fenders o­n the port
You put the fenders o­n the starboard
Then you take them off the starboard
And put them back o­n port
You do a little wiggle, straighten up your spine
Then take the fenders off the port again
And tie them in a line.

(On the other side of course!)

Fender duty is much improved by the way.

Brief extract from log of Tuesday 4 July 1995

Re Lochgilphead….Anywhere with as many banks and churches just has to be a town.

Nowadays I am not so sure about that. But it can be hard to find a bank, pharmacy and church with an appropriate service time – whilst sailing up the West Coast.

From Boat Log: Saturday 1 July 1995

We have been rudely awakened as the Captain – bleary-eyed and in a panic, donned jogging bottoms and rushed aloft bare-chested. More rushing around o­n deck whilst he re-anchored. The subsequent embarassment has prompted the 1st Mate to suggest we leave o­n the morning tide. I think we will all feel better o­nce we have put a few miles behind us. However, we shall see what the morning and the weather forecast brings.

Anchoring and mooring has become more efficient. Pity the Captain sometimes parks the boat o­n the rocks.

Extract from boat log: Friday 30 June 1995

The Captain gave us a spot of mild hilarity a short while ago – by shooting past the boat o­n his return from doggie-dump patrol, brushing madly at midgies…. He was wild-eyed and frantic. The Ship's Dog was most confused at going the wrong way so fast. She has continued to improve at being in the dinghy and o­n the boat, and sports her crewsaver (life-jacket) with style.

Midgies are always a problem in this part of the world. When I was a young Mum o­ne of my sons asked his Sunday School teacher why God made midgies….she was a bit of a fierce lady and said in a very menacing tone…..”Because we're all sinners….”   Note: that is not my view, though the o­nly good thing I can think of about midgies is that they are high protein food for swallows, swifts and the like.

Extract Boat Journal: Thursday 29 June 1995

07-15hrs o­n a hilltop above Cullipool.
Mars, a can of coke and hobnobs make an excellent breakfast. Cassie for company, the birds as music, cattle lowing, or rather bellowing in the distance, a Hebridean breeze….sea and islands all around. Sun and the slightest of hazes…. This is the lure of the Hebrides.

And I heard God whisper….as I whispered my dreams of living in such a place. And here I am nine years o­n – living and working in these islands. (Well, I will be back at work soon!)