Anstruther Muster 2014.....stormbound in Dunbar.

I haven't been posting much recently partly because I just seem to be too busy but also because I've had a niggling problem with my right Achilles tendon. This has been going on for a couple of months and seems to be a tendinitis (there is a noticable lump on the tendon!). I have finally admitted that it does seem to get better with rest and that going for a long cycle just aggravates it.

The weekend past however would not normally include any cycling as it was time again for the annual Anstruther Muster. I had everything ready to sail on the ebbing tide at 07:00 on Saturday. Unfortunately the wind had other ideas and, as forecast, it was soon blowing over 30mph. That's far too much for my wee boat. If I was caught out in it I know the boat would be safe, if a bit uncomfortable, but to deliberately set out into that sort of wind is foolhardy.  

So I was at a bit of a loss. El was expecting her sister to visit and the usual suspects had all headed over to Anstruther on Thursday evening or Friday morning.  

 With nothing better to do, I decided to take it easy and have my own weekend away at home.
 I took Fly for some good walks along the beach and the cliffs.

I paddled out to the Heron, put the kettle on, then turned it off and had a beer instead.

 I had a look at the Kittiwakes and realised just how far on summer is. This years young are almost the same size as the parents and it will not be long before they all head back to sea.

 I went rock pooling and did some light rock fishing.

I caught wee Pollock, coal fish and a pugnacious little sea scorpion who kept hold of the isome worm even after I had taken the hook out. He went back eventually, but not without bristling his little spines at me.

It is the first time in five years I have not sailed to the muster, which is a disappointment, but there will always be next year. The rest arrived back from Anstruther in various cars as the yachts have all been left there until the weather settles. The summer seems to have slipped by this year and there is just the start of a hint of Autumn in the air. I've missed going for decent summer cycles, but every time I do go out, I end up limping the next day. So I'll make a commitment  to get back into regular cycling but just keeping it to short five to ten mile outings. See how it goes.

Another lazy Sunday

Nothing special this weekend, just a Sunday messing around at the harbour. The end of May and most of June has been lovely weather with hot sunny days and light breezes. Unfortunately the harbour has been blocked by the dredger. Now that it has finally gone, and the harbour is shallower...yes you read that correctly..., the wind has turned to the North.

There was a race around the Bass planned but there wasn't much of a turn-out, so I ended up rowing over to the Seline to watch the world go by and have a cold beer.

 

Dave got tail-tied when he caught his mooring risers around his prop shaft. This sort of misfortune is welcomed with glee amongst other boat owners and provides an hour or so of good spectating.

 

I could have gone for a cycle but the spirit was weak. Lazy days.

Hell hath no fury...

I think I bought the Heron nearly eight years ago. Time certainly flies by and I just thought that the wee boat seemed slower due to me becoming more familiar with it. I have however noticed that the foresail in particular was just getting too saggy to create any sort of decent shape. So a couple of weeks ago I bit the bullet and ordered a new furling genoa.

The last couple of weeks have had some fine sailing weather but unfortunately the dredger Shearwater has been back digging holes and breaking down. On Sunday the weather was overcast but very hot. The dredger eventually stopped about 2:30pm and I was off out of the harbour for a sail.

 

I passed Jamie on the "Ambition" with his daughters. He had hoped to sail along to Belhaven beach but it was getting more overcast and the girls were looking a little green when they sailed beyond the shelter of the rocks. A little further out another couple of yachts were motoring in.

 

They all disappeared into the harbour and that left me alone on the Heron with an empty sea ahead. Clouds were gathering but I had a new sail to play with and there was a good hour of tide left before I had to get back to my mooring.

And what a revelation the new genoa was. It's actually a little smaller than the previous one but far closer to the recommended sail size. There was a little weather helm, nothing to worry about, just enough to know the boat will round up in a blow. When I turned on to a reach I realised just how slow the old sails had been. I had to use two hands to sheet-in and will have to get the little winches running again. Brilliant!

I just sailed around the rocks, tacking for the sake of tacking and enjoying every minute. But time and tide don't wait, even for the mighty Heron, so too soon I had to squeeze back in between the dredger and the wall and pick up a connection to the land again.

Above is the stern of a boat built in the 1960's. Below is the stern of a boat built in the 1960's, although from an older design. I know which I prefer. Bob Clunas has done a wonderful job restoring the "Mareen" and she should be attending a few classic boat meets this season.

A great little Sunday afternoon sail, although the Heron might just be coming up for sale as I have been coveting another boat recently. A faster, flighty younger model. The poor Heron may be scorned!

Sailing to the Isle of May, Anstruther and Dunbar

Over the last eighteen months or so, El seems to have only met up with her sister at funerals. This weekend however they had different plans. A couple of bottles of wine, three series of Game of Thrones to watch and a lot of gossip to catch up on. Understandably, I wasn't required. So on Saturday morning I fired up the little motor on the Heron and put-putted my way out of the harbour into the bright sunshine rising over the North Sea.

 

There was a light, variable, westerly which had just enough puff to catch the sail and get me moving along. I wasn't making much more than three knots but it was a lovely morning and there was no hurry.

In the distance Stuart and Gipper were on the Seline and near to them I could see Davey and his father on the Wee Beastie.

As the sun rose, the day grew warmer and the light wind began to fade. I had a coffee from my flask and the radio was murmering away below deck. Gannets skimmed low over the water, heading east out to sea and the Heron just silently drifted along heading north to the Isle of May.

There eventually comes a point when even the keenest of sailors has to admit defeat and turn on the engine. I had managed for two hours to eek out little breezes but the others had turned on their motors much earlier and by now were just specks in the distance. There was nothing else for it but to fire up the Mariner.

The Stevenson Lighthouse on the May eventually apeared out of the morning haze, and as I got close, I headed to the east to approach the little landing at Kirkhaven. Unfortunately the tide still hadn't flooded enough to get ashore. Instead, Stuart had dropped his anchor and Davey was rafted alongside.

I rafted up to port and we all sat back in the sun having a picnic and watching the birds fly by. There were loads of puffins, who as usual always dive as I try to get a picture. I still love seeing their little orange feet paddling frantically like clockwork toys. The guillemots, on the other hand, were much more elegant, just sitting watching me as I watched them.

It was after lunch time and the tide was beginning to pick up so the anchor was weighed and we slowly motored, or tried to sail in my case, along the east of the island to catch the incoming tide between the island and the Fife coast.

With a helpful push under our keels we soon covered the last four miles to the approach into Anstruther, and of course it's minefield of creel markers.

I

I was first onto the potoon. I think that this may be the only time that the Heron has been first to do anything. There are advantages to havin little bilge keels. Davey lifted the keel on the Wee Beastie and was soon tied up. Stuart however hit the mud and took a little longer.

The fisheries museum in the town was having an open day and the lifeboat shed had joined in. A convivial afternoon was spent around the harbour, enjoying the occasional burger at the barbecue and perhaps a cold beer or two.

As the afternoon turned to evening the gulls settled down for the night and we went off to look around the town. When I eventually wandered back down to the pontoon, the tide had dropped again and the Heron was sitting at an angle in a little hole. There was nothing to be done so I put the kettle on for a coffee and settled into my sleeping bag. At some point during the night the Heron floated back upright, but I was long asleep by then.

Morning dawned bright again and boded well for another hot day. Various local boat owners appeard for a chat, including George, who had just returned from a night in Dunbar and had wondered where we were.

It was after 2 pm when we finally had enough water to sneak out of the harbour, and unfortunately by then, the sky had clouded over.

The forecasted south westerly came to nothing and it was back on with the engines for a rather boring 14.6 nautical miles .

But the wee boats all made it safely to Dunbar and we were soon tied up at our moorings 36 hours after leaving, with around 35 sea miles covered.

First Sail of the Season

 I am getting a bit lax at posting, I just seem to be too busy at the moment. The poor LHT has hardly been out over the last month with any spare time being spent trying to get the Heron sailing again. The new rigging terminal arrived last week and I built up a new forestay on Thursday.

 Stuart gave me a hand to raise the mast again yesterday and today I finally got out for a sail. Clear of the narrow harbour mouth and I switched off the engine and sailed between the rocks.

 About three miles east of Dunbar and I caught up with the yachts Seline and Wee Beastie. The Cod season has started again and I was soon joining in and caught a couple of codling. I let them go but the rest managed some decent fish that will be in the frying pan this week. 

 Feel free to add your own caption.

 I turned around off the coast at Whitesands and tacked back. This took a lot longer than planned as the furler started to jam again so I only sailed under the main.

Back between the rocks and I fired up the little outboard to have a look at how much the tide had fallen. Davey came along in the Wee Beastie and we both agreed that we would give the tide another half hour to make sure there was enough water under the keels.. 

Stuart arrived in the Seline and dropped anchor and we all rafted up. The seals watched us for a bit, then carried on doing seal things.

The Kittiwakes called incesently from their nests in the ruins of the castle.

 And the humans chatted for a time but also just sat silently in company and watched the sea.

 Inevitably the tide came back in and we returned to the harbour. A pretty fine bank holiday.