Traeth Bychan is an excellent starting point for sailing off Anglesey, having a good, free slip and a car park. It is situated in a sheltered bay just to the north of Red Wharf Bay on the eastern side of the island. When I arrived there the white Drascombe Dabber of Robin Truman and his son Ian were already there, and within minutes Dave Morton and Tony Nield arrived with Wayfarer Restless. By the time we had launched a small red sail had appeared which turned out to be Roger Barnes with his Tideway, having spent the night at anchor.

After a conference it was decided that we would all head for Point Lynas, the NE point of the island, and if the weather and sea were OK — there is usually rough water, made much worse in a wind — we would head along the north coast and meet for the night in Forth Wen, a small bay with good shelter except from the north.

With the lightly loaded Tideway leading, we headed north around the headland of Ynys Moelfre and started beating the five or so miles to the point. As we approached the water was increasingly boisterous with the wind against the ebbing tide. It was possible to avoid the worst of the race and the Tideway and the Wayfarer disappeared round the point. This left myself in the Potter and Robin in the Drascombe to crawl round and begin the slow beat to our destination.

Having rounded the point we fully expected to see the sails of the other two boats but there were only a couple of large rusty ex-drifters in use for sea angling, with the occupants involved in the ancient ritual of consuming large amounts of beer to entice the fish.

“Well, they must have found some good wind,” I thought to myself and plodded on. By this time I was extremely bored by the view of the bromide factory at Amlwch and began to speculate upon the effect of a mixture of bromide and radio-active waste on the sex life of the… fish. As the small island of East Mouse came slowly abeam accompanied by a couple of equally bored-looking seals, I gave up and motored to Forth Wen followed rapidly by Robin. But — the rocky bay with its crumbling and overgrown ruins was empty. We did a circuit and decided that the others must have been going so well that they had pushed on to Cemaes. This is the best place for shelter on a pretty inhospitable coast, with a small drying harbour, a sheltered bay and several pubs — situated paradoxically between Wylfa nuclear power station and a wind-farm.

We arrived at Cemaes to find a couple of cruisers at anchor but no Wayfarer and no Tideway. As it was almost low tide, we beached the boats and laid out anchors before eating and going for a pint. We were impressed by the light wind performance of the others — Roger had no motor — they must have gone to Holyhead!

I left ahead of Robin the next morning, in the hope that for once I might not be the last back. I motored initially with the tide in an oily calm. Point Lynas was peaceful apart from some upwelling water, and I had a good, if gentle sail down to the lovely inlet at Traeth Dulas which had been suggested as a rendezvous. After a short time not only did the Drascombe appear, but the other boats as well.

We anchored for dinner in the river, the tide flowing at a good 3-4 knots. We discovered that we had missed the other boats as their crews brewed up in the small bay adjacent to Point Lynas while they waited for us to catch up. Then having arrived at Port Wen and found that we were not there they assumed that we had turned back from Point Lynas. They eventually spent the night in Bull Bay near Amlwch — a touch of the hare and the tortoise perhaps.

We returned on a run to Traeth Bychan to pull out — I was of course last back — to find a contingent of power-boats also waiting, with a queue of smart 4x4s. Strange thing was, most of these could have used the beach with no trouble at all, but some seemed reluctant to get their tyres wet and dirty!

It had been a very pleasant weekend but it would have been good to keep in touch with the other boats. This is always a problem with boats of varying performance. The solution is I think VHF, which is a good investment, both for this purpose and as a safety measure. A hand-held set takes up little space even in a small dinghy and can cost little more than a flare pack.

Arduaine Rally — 28th May-4th June by Keith Jones

Arduaine, pronounced Ardunie, is the headland south of the entrance to Loch Melfort. From the SW facing campsite there is a lovely view between Shuna Island to the west and the Craignish peninsula to the east. Close by is the beautiful National Trust for Scotland Arduaine garden, not unlike Inverewe. Craobh Haven with its marina is a couple of miles away.

There is excellent local sailing in — relatively! — protected waters around the isles of Shuna, Luing, Torsa and Sell. The forbidding silhouette of Scarba, with its attendant horrors of Corryvreckan and the Grey Dogs, dominates the background and sets limits to carefree sailing. Large yachts, divers’ inflatables and sea kayaks abound; dinghies are comparatively few. NW Group rallies tend to evolve rather than be timetabled. Thus Joan Abrams and Keith Jones, having arrived a day early, whilst on an exploratory trip round Shuna, were hailed by Edwin Dewhirst returning from three weeks around the Summer Isles, and Ken and Mary O’Halloran-Brown newly launched at Craobh Haven. By the time they all returned to Arduaine the rest of the fleet was mustering, and we had:

— Joan Abrams in her gunter-rigged 20ft Red Knot. — The Browns in their eye-catching 22ft double-cat-rigged Liberty Catkin. — David Chatterley in his beautiful personally-designed and built double-ender Iona. — Edwin Dewhirst and dog Bess in his workmanlike, sturdy 18ft Seagull Sabine. — Albert and Joyce Hattersley in their Cormorant. — Brian and Kate McClellan in their very original but electronically fantastically equipped WW Potter Water Mouse. — David and Anne Morton in their aptly named Wayfarer Restless. — David and Jenny Jones in their ever-disappearing Beaufort Speedy. — Keith Jones in his GRP WW Potter C Kaipara.

Brian Swindlehurst attended the simultaneous Drascombe rally at Loch Creran but paid us a visit by road. The redoubtable lady canoeist, Christine Carter, whose 1000-1500 annual paddling mileage in Scotland often causes her ways to cross ours, appeared silently and mysteriously in Sarquit, and disappeared in the same fashion.

We are all grateful to the Mortons for providing meeting facilities in their amazing Tardis‑like caravan, and to the Hattersleys for shoreside coffee supplies. The rump who subsequently went to Loch Creran owe a lot to Brian Swindlehurst for the warmth of his welcome and of his caravan.

The boats all having been launched on Saturday 28th May, we decided on an easy sail on Sunday. We sailed to Ardinamir Bay between Luing and Torsa, picnicking in glorious sun. The formidable lady who for forty years had logged every arrival and terrified the skippers had recently retired to Glasgow, so we did not manage to clock in. We returned to Arduaine, most of us rounding Shuna on the way.

The evening forecast indicated the end of the three weeks of super weather and the start of a strong onshore wind. Some of us hauled out, one moored — the rights regarding use of the three moorings remained unclear throughout, but divers’ inflatables generally collared them —one or two anchored, and three followed Sabine to a sheltered anchorage next to Craobh Haven. The Joneses and Speedy stayed at and around Ardinamir for the next three days.

Monday being stormy, we walked. In the evening Edwin hosted a super dinner aboard Sabine for the refugees at Craobh Haven.

Tuesday was very wet and blowy. In the afternoon the big boats, Sabine and Catkin, made a sporty and rather chilly visit to Kilmelford at the head of Loch Melfort. Catkin proved her unusual rig to be very weatherly. In the evening hands were mustered to recover Catkin in unpleasant conditions, Edwin producing some excellent wheezes to deal with the tricky bits.

On Wednesday the wind moderated and Red Knot, Iona, Water Mouse and Kaipara visited Toberonochy on Luing — not exactly the centre of the Inner Hebridean fleshpots! Restless undertook a recce of the Cuan Sound in preparation for a later voyage. In the evening we had our Rally Dinner at the Loch Melfort hotel.

Thursday produced initially a pleasant SE f3 against a forecast SW-W f5. Most of us sailed locally, but Restless tackled the swift currents of the Cuan Sound, between Luing and Seil, and sailed out to the Garvellachs, the “Isles of the Sea”, then to Easdale Island, and finally back through the Cuan Sound. It was a hard, choppy trip, but one to be proud of.

On Friday Red Knot and Kaipara set out for Loch Creran. The tide allowed passage through the Clachan Sound, under the “Bridge over the Atlantic”, and round to the fine anchorage at Puilladobhrain on NW Seil, by late afternoon. As the Clachan Sound dries out and is never very deep over the sill, it was a little unnerving. However, minimum depth was 5ft. It was necessary to motor against the strong N-S current which flows through the sound once the sill is covered.

The Saturday forecast was W-NW f5-6, but it was windless when we set out. We motored inside Kerrera Sound to reduce the rolling effect of the slop. Wind hit us on the nose in the sound and we motor-sailed past Oban.

As we crossed the entrance to Loch Etive big squalls drove down on us from the Sound of Mull. The wind lifted very swiftly from f4 to f6. It was necessary to dowse all sail and to motor for a bit in order not to be swept down onto Fionn Ard headland. Once round the headland into the Lynn of Lorn it was possible to head downwind under jib alone, and I prepared to enter Loch Creran in this fashion with the wind astern — the big yachts were still under full sail!

At this point another squall struck and the wind veered 90 degrees, putting Kaipara on a lee shore under jib alone. Again the motor was invoked to get her out of trouble. We entered Loch Creran very fast and thankfully tied up to Red Knot who had motored ahead, for late lunch at South Shian.

The final stage of the trip, to Creran Moorings, was simple enough. However, just as we reached the moorings another squall struck. Red Knot managed to anchor with decorum, but Kaipara went through the assembled craft like a scalded cat, picking up her mooring after furious rowing, at the fourth attempt. The standard DCA mooring picker-upper, a karabiner on the end of the painter kept readily to hand in the cockpit, was invaluable in securing the buoy without having to go forward.

Although by Monday we had four DCA craft at Loch Creran — Red Knot, Kaipara, Water Mouse and Brian Swindlehurst’s Avocet — the weather remained foul and the rally petered out.

Fun? Yes, mainly.

Lessons to be learnt? Of course!