In 1968 the west coast of Scotland enjoyed a summer of almost unprecedented fine weather. Hot sun and little rain continued for weeks and the only complaint was of lack of wind. It was in these conditions that we made our cruise from Rosneath on the Gare Loch to Oban and back. ‘We’ are Brian, aged 18 and Peter aged 43. The boat Misfit is Beaufort No 42, equipped with a ‘square-net’ tent on hoops made from Tufnol catamaran battens and with a comprehensive set of safety equipment. Misfit being too heavy to beach and most of the shores being rocky, we towed a Metzler T.S 280 as a tender.

The morning we left the Gare Loch was very dull with low cloud and light rain, but with a force 2 easterly wind. The Clyde looked its gloomiest and most depressing. Once out of the loch we had to steer a compass course, as Toward light, six miles away, was quite invisible. Gradually the sky cleared, the sun came out and the wind dropped. In Rothesay Bay the oars came out for the first of many times and alternately ghosting and rowing we made our way slowly in brilliant sunshine up the East Kyle with Bute to port and the Inverchaolain hills to starboard. Near Colintraive we ran into a rainstorm of tropical violence, which soon had us bailing, but the rain brought wind enough to take us up to the Burnt Isles. Here the tide was against us and we had to row to stem it and then stood over to the beautiful land-locked harbour of Caladh. On the way we caught a mackerel which Peter had for his supper.

Next morning a light wind took us through the Rudha Ban, past Tighnabruaich and a brisk southerly gave us a beat down to Carry point where we rendezvoused with the rest of the family. For the next two days we were joined by Richard, aged 14. An easterly force 3 to 4 gave us a grand reach to Ardlamont Point and another reach on the opposite tack up Loch Fyne. By early afternoon this had died away and again it was ‘out oars’ and we eventually moored in a tiny rocky inlet between Lochs Gilp and Fyne. We moored to the 10 lb. Danforth and a shore line, a technique which we were to use several times in similar sheltered rock holes which would have been quite impossible for larger boats.

After a night which was disturbed by a slight southerly swell, it was another hot sunny windless day. We did not bother to set the sails, but rowed the remaining mile and a half to Ardrishaig, the eastern entrance of the Crinan canal. The sea lock seemed enormous when we rowed in and made fast with bow and stern lines furnished with 18” bowlines in the approved manner. The lock was filled, the gates opened, the swing-bridge swung, holding up all the traffic to the south of Kintyre and we rowed through into the basin. The lock keepers are understandably reluctant to pass single boats if they can make up a group of two or three to go through the locks together. We were joined by Vanda, a 41’ Clyde racer. We lashed alongside her and then helped to work the two boats through the remaining thirteen locks to the Crinan basin. Since Vanda had no reverse gear, this called for nice judgment when snubbing her on the stern rope at each lock and Richard almost ran himself into the ground catching and making fast bow and stern lines, opening and closing the very heavy lock gates and running to be ahead of us at the next lock. The Crinan is nine miles long and has 15 locks. It passes through pleasant wooded countryside with views of mountains and saves the 80 mile-long perilous passage around the Mull of Kintyre. Originally built for Clyde puffers and fishing boats, it is now heavily patronised by yachtsmen in the summer and is very little used in the winter. We spent the night in the Crinan basin, having for company a fair proportion of the Clyde ex-international 8 metre fleet and a lot of other large and expensive boats. As we stood on the sea wall on that perfect evening and looked across Loch Crinan to the Dorus Mor, which we had to pass, and beyond it the dreaded Gulf of Corryvreckan between Jura and Scarba, which we had every intention of avoiding, we wondered what the future held in store for us.

As we passed out through, what seemed to us, the towering gates of the sea lock next day we wondered more. Again bright sun and a very light breeze which, however, gave us a reach towards the Dorus Mor. Here tides run at up to 8 knots, so we were anxious to arrive at slack low water and then take the first of the flood through. For two miles or so before the Dorus Mor the surface of the water swirled and eddied in a comparatively gentle fashion. Strings of small whirlpools would suddenly appear and as suddenly vanish and we saw a floating bottle spinning rapidly like a top. The wind carried us to Craignish Point and as we turned north to follow the coast dropped completely. We were too early and the ebb tide was still running strongly, so we had to row for a short time until the wind came again and slowly took us up into Loch Beag, where we anchored for lunch. In the afternoon we followed the coast north, ghosting along under spinnaker. The sea was mirror calm and teemed with life. Fish jumped, terns and gulls fished, seals were numerous and very inquisitive and we saw and heard several groups of porpoises. In the absolute stillness, sounds travelled far and even seemed to be magnified so that what sounded like a large animal jumping would prove to be a tern dipping daintily for a very small fish. Our evening anchorage was in another unnamed rocky inlet on the mainland opposite Shuna. Brian went in up to the waist taking a line ashore, so we made a large fire of driftwood against a rock and cooked our meal ashore. So perfect was the evening, not even any midges, that we took our bedding ashore and slept by the fire which we kept alight all night.

More sun but no more wind the next day at first and we crept up between Shuna and the mainland across the mouth of Loch Melfort, then a good south westerly came, which took us up into Seil Sound in great style. Seil Sound is a narrow drying strip of water between Seil island and the mainland. At its southern end it is joined by Cuan Sound, which is bounded by the Islands of Seil, Luing and Torsa. Tides in Cuan Sound run at 7 knots and it looks much more like a fast-running river than a part of the sea. We arrived off the eastern end of Cuan Sound at half ebb and the water was fairly sluicing out into Seil Sound, giving rise to the most spectacular eddyings and swirlings that we had yet seen. In places the water was coming straight up and then spilling out over a large area surrounded by complicated eddyings and whirlpools. There was nothing for it but to sail straight through and surprisingly there was very little effect on Misfit. Where it looked that we must be spun round quite out of control, we passed through with the minimum of correction on the tiller. At last the current running out of Sell Sound matched our forward speed and we had to anchor and wait five hours for the tide to turn and give enough depth to go on. During all this time that very much wanted south west wind blew to waste. At last the dried out part of the sound was again under water and we ran up with centreboard and rudder raised, through the thick beds of kelp, under the old stone bridge (the so-called “Bridge over the Atlantic”). The chart said we had nearly 40’ headroom but it looked as if our mast must touch. It did not and then we were in Clachan Sound. The last part was so shallow that Peter had to jump out and wade, pulling Misfit behind him. By the time we reached open water, that south west wind had disappeared and we rowed into Barnacaryn Bay at the entrance to Loch Feochan.

We were now within about five miles of Oban, but even so did not reach it until 1400 hours next day. At first we beat up Kerrera Sound against a light breeze, but we ended by rowing. By this time stores were low, so these were replenished and we moved over to Ardantriye Bay on Kerrera for the night.

Our original plan had been, if possible, to sail to Tobermory on Mull, but the following morning we again had only the lightest of breezes from the west, the direction in which we now wanted to go. This would have meant a 25 mile beat and although we enjoy beating against a reasonable wind, beating against zephyrs comes close to our idea of hell. In addition the tides were at their worst and would run against us in the Sound of Mull through all the best of the day. Reluctantly therefore we turned south. We stood out around the north end of Kerrera into a breeze which had backed to south west and freshened to force 3, so we had our day of beating after all. We kept well outside Kerrera, inside Bach and Insh Islands and outside Seil. Black storm clouds over Mull worried us for a time, but they came no nearer. In the evening we stood in to Easdale Harbour, but there was no shelter there, so we carried on over Easdale Bay to the western end of Cuan Sound and into yet another of our tiny rock holes. There we lay all night in almost still water while the tide boiled and roared only yards from the transom.

A late start was necessary on the following morning as we wanted to pass Fladda, where there is a 7 knot tide, on the high water slack. There was hardly any wind at first and we stood westwards hoping to meet a sea breeze brought up by the sunshine. A large school of porpoises played all round us and then we saw wind ahead. We stood into it, then bore off for the sound of Luing between that island and Scarba. We had timed it right, the water was slack at Fladda, but as we reached down the Sound the tide made under us until we were fairly flying over the land and soon we were back amongst the disturbed water of the tide race. Perhaps this was the most violent we had seen, but already we had more confidence and again sailed straight through without incident. From the south end of Luing we ran over to Loch Beag through a popple caused by the tide race at the entrance. Here we lunched and waited a couple of hours to have slack low water at the Dorus Mor. We got this right too and as we ran in several boats, including an 8 metre, were beating out. Instead of entering the canal basin, we anchored close under the island in Crinan harbour. We spent the evening in the Mainbrace Bar of the Crinan Hotel, where the view is superb, the talk all of boats and the beer good, but where it would be impossible to become drunk because of the slowness of the service.

The next day being Sunday and the canal closed, we day-sailed up Loch Craignish. This is a truly delightful loch with a string of well-wooded islands along its length dividing it into two channels. At the head of the loch we found quite a number of craft, and basked in the hot sun whilst lunching. Brian lost his Polaroid sunglasses overboard. We were in the sea-lock in good time the next morning and the level was so low that, standing on the lock side we were able to inspect the masthead fittings. We restocked at the only shop which we found surprisingly well supplied and then set out along the canal in company with Black Raven and El Vigo. The former offered us a tow which we accepted. Traffic towards Crinan was heavy as boats were coming through for the start of West Highland Week next day. This gave us rare views of many of the top racers of the Clyde including several well known 8 metres and 8 metre cruiser-racers. The lock keepers were all very concerned about the water shortage and there were fears that if no rain fell soon, it might be necessary to close the canal. After leaving the canal, we spent a night in Loch Fyne and then sailed in fickle winds back to Carry Point.

The return to the Gare Loch was made a few days later, again with an overnight stop at Caladh. In the West Kyle we saw four whales which were probably of the northern bottle-nosed species. Caladh was left in almost no wind and after three hours we had reached Colintraive, about two and a half miles down the East Kyle, but this had included a very slow passage of the Burnt Isles against the tide. At Colintraive we passed about forty boats competing in the Tarbert race and also met a Wayfarer-sailing friend who invited us ashore for drinks. Drinks stretched into lunch and by the time we left there was a grand south west wind force 3 – 4. This gave us a reach down to Toward, where we hoisted the spinnaker and ran with cleated sheet and guy up past the Cloch and over to the Perch Rock buoy. Misfit’s spinnaker is 170 square feet and it fairly pulled us along; once or twice we were on the verge of planing and an eleven mile spinnaker run was a fitting finish to our cruise.

Thanks to the fine weather and the light winds we had no major excitements. We learned that in these conditions the tidal races are not nearly as fearsome as they look and sound but they might be very different in a fresh wind. We took a full set of Admiralty charts and the Clyde Cruising Club Sailing Directory and found both indispensable. Unfortunately the charts and the sailing directory often use different names for the same place. For instance the chart’s Loch Beag is the sailing directory’s Little Loch Craignish and what one calls the Sound of Luing the other calls the Sound of Scarba. Should you consult the Ordnance Survey maps, you will often find yet a third name. In this article Admiralty chart names and spellings have been used throughout.

The beauty of the area is beyond description and it is quite unspoiled by man and his works. On occasion it was possible to imagine that we were the only people on earth. There are plenty of sheltered bays and it should always be possible to hole up in a blow. If you do get into trouble however you will probably be on your own. We carried a good supply of flares, but realised that in some places the chance of anyone seeing them would be slight. It is essential to carry plenty of stores. We started with full supplies for a week, as opportunities to stock-up are few. So many of the hill burns were dry this year that we even had some difficulty with water. Because of the light winds, we covered only about 170 miles in a fortnight. At the time, this worried us, but in retrospect it seems less important. The passage of the Crinan canal cost £3-10s each way. This seems a lot, but we felt that we had our money’s worth in entertainment value.

We certainly intend to return and perhaps take part in the junketings of West Highland week and should any members think of cruising in these waters, we should be pleased to hear from them, so that we can give more complete information.

The dimensions of the Beaufort are as follows:

Length overall 16’6” Length waterline 15’6” Beam 6’2” Weight 550 lbs

For our cruise we carried the following sails:

No. 1 main 98 sq ft No. 2 main 85 sq ft Storm main 60 sq ft Working jib 35 sq ft Genoa 60 sq ft. Storm jib 15 sq ft Spinnaker 173 sq ft

When not cruising or day-sailing we race her quite successfully at P.Y. 96