Sailing as it should be done.

Sometimes you just have to grab the moment and get out sailing. Last Sunday was as good a day for sailing as I've seen for a long time. The sun was shining, there was a light but steady breeze and there was only the slightest swell.

So the little outboard was fired up to get me off the mooring but as soon as I was out of the harbour entrance, the motor was off and the Heron caught some wind in her sails.

Davey came out for a sail on his yacht 'Wee Beastie' but was having problems getting tension in his mainsail.

It didn't matter too much, It's still a faster boat than the Heron.

Davey soon passed me and headed off into the distance. I just set the tiller and headed north.

I often take photos of the horizon when I'm out sailing. I don't post many because they don't convey what I really experience. In the pictures the sea looks empty but when I'm sailing it's full of movement, changing colours, birds, the sound of the water and wind and of course the insignificant dot that is the Heron slowly bobbing along in the midst of it all.

With the back of my neck suitably burnt I turned south to get a bit of sun on my face and headed along the coast to the east of Dunbar.

I gybed off the east beach the tried my best to goose wing back to the scart rocks. Having the wind directly behind you might sound easy but if you sail, you'll know how tricky it can be.

Back in the calm of harbour and the colours are changing again as the sun starts to get a little lower.
Then this weekend, the weather was really settled again on Saturday. There was no real wind to speak of but I wanted to get out on the water and so hatched a cunning plan to spend the afternoon practising the black art of anchoring. 

It's probably best not to tell anyone that you intend to drop an anchor as it is amazing how many experts there are out there. And none of them agree.

After dropping the hook a couple of times and feeling it set on different grounds I heard the buzz of an engine and Stuart appeared on the Seline.

My back was beginning to complain with hauling up 11 meters of chain so happily agreed to go for a motor to the yacht Carioca which we could see bobbing around a mile and a half off-shore.

We all rafted up and sat chatting and some cold beer was passed around.

The boats creeked and groaned and slowly swung around on the tide and soon Jamie appeared on the Ambition to increase the raft of sloth to four. As the tide started to ebb, the Carioca had to head in to harbour as it draws a lot more than our little boats. The change in the tide also brought a little breeze and we gathered ourselves together, cast off the lines and hoisted some sail to get home.

Days like these are few, and can be far between, but are good for the soul.

Coffee at Loch Lomond

After work on Friday I quickly drove home, collected El and an eager Fly, and turned around to drive through to Glasgow for the weekend. It was quiet evening-in catching up with El's dad, my father in law, which made for an early start on Saturday. I packed Fly into the car and drove out of the city to Loch Lomond.

 

When I looked through the photos I took, I realised that I hadn't taken any of the standard pics of the head of the loch with Ben Lomond in the background. You will have to google an image, and if your only knowledge of the loch comes from the song, then take my word that it is worth a visit. I'm probably guilty of taking this beautiful national park a bit for granted. I've spent a lot of good times around here over the years.

 

  

I took a walk through the woods on the lower slopes of Conic hill. Through the upper canopy I could here Ravens calling but couldn't catch a decent view. The sky was overcast but there was quite a heat and I was glad of the breeze to keep the midges at bay. We dropped down to the lochside and then wandered around to the boatyard at Balmaha. Fly was keen to have a paddle while I unpacked the wee flask of coffee for another Saturday breakfast alfresco.

 

Tucked away in a corner of the boat yard I found this rather neglected looking boat. It looked like a Pegasus 700 bilge keel. The forestay and a lower shroud were broken.

  

  

Looks like the mast is being held up by a very worn foresail halyard. The rest of the boat looked like it had been sitting for a few years.

  

The was an outboard well with an old 9hp mercury in situ. The long leg easily cleard the hull and was a neat fit behind the rudder. Nothing drastic and I would bet on a weekend of scrubbing, fixing and painting and this could be a cracking yacht again. I can imagine Stuart giving the yard a call after reading this.

There were some well cared for boats too. This little clinker launch would be ideal for balmy summer evenings casting for trout.

 
I thoroughly enjoyed a lazy morning walking the loch shore and Fly mostly enjoyed herself although she did meet her nemisis in the shape of an angry Mallard hiding in the grass.
 

 

A good weekend away and I should have taken the bike. Perhaps it would be useful to build a cheap beater out of the Kona Caldera. Something I wouldn't be too worrid about leaving in a parked car. Plans, plans.