Forth, Tay and Northumbrian coast in a Dockrell 17, an open Bermudan boat

Thursday 30th July — Dunbar — N f2

Met Dad in town at 10.15. Heavy showers, I was anxious to get out of this SE corner of the Forth estuary so as to have more options available whatever the weather would bring. I provisioned up and motor-sailed to Fidra, an island off North Berwick, arriving at 16.00. A quay, once used by lighthouse staff lies inside a crack in the rocks, getting in there involved sailing very close to a submerged half-tide rock which fortunately, could be easily seen in the clear water. It was necessary to position the boat away from the quay at LW to avoid grounding on rocks, so the boat was moored by long lines fastened to rocks fitted with iron eyes fore and aft. The quay is sheltered from the prevailing westerly winds but is affected by swell from NE to SE. The forecast at 17.55 gave increased wind. Gradually, through the night, the NW wind created a NE swell, it built up to make the berth uncomfortable and worrisome.

Friday 31st — Fidra — NW f5

Left at 04.30, the first crack of dawn to get under the lee of the Fife shore. Whilst slipping the ropes I noticed much phosphorescence which caused me to deliberately disturb the water to observe it further. Elie was attainable without being close-hauled. The Dockrell’s performance is not very good when close-hauled, she makes much leeway and I’m often tempted to motor sail. I had the advantage of lee-bowing the flood and made fair progress. Elie is a lovely harbour, once used to ship coal in and grain out. The granary is still in fine condition and is awaiting a buyer to convert it into flats, I moored on the wall in the early morning, breakfasted and went off to explore the town. The visit was interesting, the old houses were plentiful, varied and well maintained. By 09.30 the ebb had begun and I left heading north-east. My strategic hope was to ‘do’ the Tay first if possible, it being the furthest from home, and thereafter I would be heading homewards. I called in at Anstruther to pick up film and have a quick wander round the bustling town before eating a meal aboard. Noticing that a very useful sea breeze had set in from south which with luck could take me all the way to the Tay I quickly cleared up and set sail. This voyage, once round Fife Ness is boring as one’s most direct track for the Tay channel is a fair distance offshore. Hazardous sand banks extend seawards an incredible distance. I took advice from the Pilot Book and decided I could safely enter at Abertay mark, 6 miles out. The book advises that if you go aground on the sand not to wander as there is quicksand in places. I even heard a story that a steam locomotive, once deck cargo of a stricken ship, is sometimes seen following onshore storms. My luck held with the breeze until I picked up the channel when a very heavy shower killed it off. The only option now was to motor in on the fast flood. Tayport had changed, some dredging had taken place, there were also pontoons. A kind club member told me to take a temporarily unoccupied berth. I was dog tired. I ate, took a quick walk, then slept.

Sat 1st August — Tayport — SW f1-2

I used the last of the flood to motor upstream to the fine slipway used by Wormit YC. Wormit village is situated on the south shore between the road and rail bridges. During the war this facility was used by a squadron of Royal Norwegian Air Force flying boats. The club bar had plenty of memorabilia. Apparently, contacts with the Norwegians had been maintained and visits by ex-aviators and their families were fairly regular. I walked back to Newport for provisions, then left on the first of the flood in a light SE sea breeze. I worked upstream on the south shore until reaching a very attractive anchorage near a ruined pier at Balmerino. I set the kedge and went off to explore. There was a small, picturesque village inland which I could see across the fields, but I was content with enjoying the waterside walk and views. Later I continued upstream and made a point of locating a long disused pier at Port Allen. The shallow creek that led to the stone pier was blocked by a low power cable about 10’ above the water. Locating the seemingly seldom visited ‘port’ deep among tall reeds was sufficient, I was not ready for the fag of mast lowering yet, I kept it in mind for the future. I retraced my course to the main river and continued on past Newborough. Now the green hills were becoming bigger and closing in toward the river banks and the width of the Tay was becoming more river-like proportions. I could just see the sheer rock face of Kinnoul Hill before Perth. The Pilot advised an anchorage at a non-ruined pier at Ferryfield of Carpow. This lies at the entrance of the River Earn. I went alongside for a very peaceful night. There were no other leisure craft about. The dinghies that were seen belonged to the salmon netters but I’d seen none working and plenty of ruined netters’ houses.

Sunday 2nd August

I awoke, moved and must’ve just tipped the boat off-balance, she lurched and crashed over to rest on the starboard bilge. Now fully awake I went ashore for an early morning wander and plan the day’s route. I decided to continue upriver to Bridge of Earn. The river meanders so much that there is no chance of sailing. In places the river, when in spate, had ripped out complete trees and left them stranded in deep water. A strict eye had to be kept on the water surface for signs of underwater obstructions, but as the Dockrell draws 12” with everything raised she was in her shallow water element. The motor was set just above idle and I was poodling along at 3 kts when around a bend I met a father and son team launching a touring canoe after a night ashore wild camping. They were heading downstream, our conversation soon became impossible through distance, I looked back to see them carefully loading the canoe whilst teetering along a horizontal tree trunk. The weather was fine and calm and I arrived at Bridge of Earn at 10.00. The Pilot advises of a deep hole just below the town bridge. I missed it and ran onto a ruined weir only then realising I’d passed the anchorage. Getting ashore required scrambling up a steep bank of reeds and firm mud. Hoping no-one was looking I used the kedge like a mountaineers ice axe to get up the slope. After a visit to the village I returned to the boat and made my way back downstream to the entrance. A fair wind allowed good progress up the Tay against the ebb. A mental note was made as I passed Inchyra SC which was based at another long disused ‘port’. Eventually Willow Channel was entered with help of the motor, a deep hole was found, I anchored, ate and slept for a while. Feeling refreshed I then set off back for the main channel and motored hard against a fierce current the final half mile to Perth. The tidal dock, although empty at that time has a regular trade in aggregates, grain and cement. the charge was £19. This I was not prepared to pay and after motoring flat out to gain further progress upstream, returned to a small beach with a sewer pipe just downstream from the docks and had a quick look ashore. This was obviously not a safe or comfortable place to lie and I later took the boat downstream past Willow Channel to anchor off Perth SC. Unfortunately the constant drone of traffic high above on the motorway bridge put me off. With Inchyra in mind I gently motored downstream with the current, eventually arriving just a little too early to get alongside the old pier. This berth would provide complete shelter no matter what. Inchyra SC is a Civil Service based club, most members being prison officers. The small grounds were well maintained but the new pier ‘improvements’ are almost useless for boats, having half-tide shoulders and permanently fixed tractor tyres which a small boat gunwale would drop below and underneath at LW. The pier looked to be improved by an enthusiastic landsman — on the cheap!

Monday 3rd August

It had rained in the night and continued till 11.00. The hamlet of Inchyra was lovely, just a simple collection of attractive houses, grown up around the old grain port. The only village facility was a letter box. I walked the half-mile to the main road, caught a bus to Perth and had a thorough look at the city with the aid of a heritage guide from the Tourist Information at the same time treating myself to a decent meal and good real ale. Only when I’d sorted out my geography did I realise that I could’ve landed to gain access to the town on the large island created by the Willow Channel and now used as a golf course. On return to the boat I was glad I wasn’t sailing as the wind had risen to W f6.

Tuesday 4th — SW f4-6

I waited for HW to get calmer conditions for the run downriver to the known safe berth at Tayport. Previously, when studying the OS maps I had noticed that off the main channel were sand/mud banks named romantically as: ‘Carthagena Bank’ and ‘Sure as Death Bank’. My ‘headbanger instinct’ got the better of me and I chose a course north of Mugdrum Island to pass over these with the centre board well raised. I continued running downstream on the northern, shallow side of the river until Balmerino. I was later told that the local clubs set races over the banks when water allows. I took the vacant berth at Tayport once again, then caught a bus into Dundee for an evening visit.

Wednesday 5th — W f4-6

In ideal conditions it is possible to short-cut across the sand banks that block the southern exit of the Tay. With HW, an offshore wind and no swell — it was perfect. So at Pool buoy I turned south. The water shallowed and I could see bottom, at times possibly 1m in depth, I presumed I had strayed from the inshore channel. Anyway after a mile or so I was in deep water and close enough inshore to have a view of Tentsmuir Forest. My rig was a fully reefed main and well rolled jib. The trip was fairly wet with spray but I was able to set a course to St Andrews. RAF Leuchars was active, combat and freight aircraft were about, some were incredibly loud as they passed close overhead. I decided to go alongside the south outer wall. I had a good run ashore, reminding myself of the fine town. No-one appeared at the YC or I would’ve asked to use the showers but later went along to the sports centre and used theirs.

Thursday 6th — SW f5-6

Moved out of St Andrews just before touching to anchor outside and await the morning forecast. It is possible to be bottled up in St Andrews for some time in bad weather. I wanted to get into the Forth where I would have options whatever the wind direction. Today’s wind would get me to Fife Ness with a quartering wind, it would be on the nose entering the Forth. The passage was picturesque and seldom sailed as most craft are miles offshore, with a reduced sail area I made my way along the NE Fife coast, viewing the numerous inlets and unoccupied sandy beaches. At one place a golf course was being constructed, big earth moving machines were creating the obstacles. By picking my way amongst lobster pots and rocks inshore of North Carr I ran ashore on the gently sloping white sandy beach of Blue Stone Bay which lies immediately north of the Ness. The kedge was set and I walked the quarter mile to the Coastguard and Weather Station that we all know from the forecasts. I walked past a tiny but lovely caravan site, the owners had created beautiful tiered rock gardens. I managed to talk the coastguards into letting me in to the operations room for half an hour or so. Their small craft database didn’t contain my boat — I hadn’t registered, very naughty of me. Whilst taking in the panoramic view from the station I was able to judge how close I could pass to the rocks on the next leg of the passage to avoid the worst of the wind and tide to Crail. The shore was steep-to apart from some finger-like rock strata that extended seawards creating small sheltered bays. So with sails stowed and 5 hp motor driving hard I set off. I was aware that my progress would be watched by my coastguard friends but my intended performance of excellent seamanship was ruined when the foam seat blew into the sea, every time I closed in to pick it up the wind would flip it a few meters downwind causing me to lose much hard won distance. With perseverance and spray everywhere I picked up the leading lines to Crail and entered, tied up and sought provisions in the very beautiful village. Later, with the tide falling I moved just outside the harbour to anchor in peace. People had been staring as I tidied the boat and prepared sandwiches. I found it quite disturbing. I was awake for the 17.55 forecast that gave W 4-5 backing S 2‑3. This was a gift, the Isle of May was about 5M offshore to the south. On a previous cruise I had missed out. The island is about a mile long and one third wide but landing is frequently impossible because of swell. A lively sail, fully reefed with wind abeam took me into the lee and I gentled my way into a long narrow crack behind a rock called The Pillow. At LW a shallow draft boat can just reach the end of a concrete jetty. Ashore I was met by a friendly warden who told me about the island and said I could make use of the visitors toilets etc. Thousands of rabbits inhabit the island, their population crashes during harsh winters. Presumably they are the reason for the absence of trees. The island has had lighthouses for centuries, later came two diaphones driven by one central compressor. Predating these by a long way was a monastery of early Christian times. Smugglers have used it and a small permanent agricultural community lived here, the last islander was buried here in 1930s. It is now owned by Scottish National Heritage and is a bird sanctuary. I was allowed all over the island as long as I stuck to the marked paths. Puffin and rabbit burrows were everywhere and one could accidentally demolish them.

Friday 7th — Isle of May — W f4 backing S 2-3

I had promised to be away before the bird-watchers boat arrived but had enough time to walk the entire island. The cliff scenery was spectacular, the few beaches were rock strewn and hazardous for landing. The wind duly backed and I sailed for the Fife coast again, eventually putting back in at Elie. Drizzle had started but I made the most of it by going for a longish walk in my full oilskins. I was not the only madman about as at the first tee of a nearby golf course a party of four were starting a round beneath large umbrellas.

Saturday 8th — Elie — SE f3

Headed up the Forth on the last of the flood with no certain destination in mind. The tide turned against me as I reached Kinghorn Ness. I peeped in to Kinghorn Harbour then at Pettycur. As the wind was consistent progress was possible by cheating the tide and keeping close inshore. Skipping over the shallows on a falling tide can lead to embarrassment but I managed to stay alert and by occasional prods of the bottom with the boat-hook made good progress, eventually putting into Dalgety Bay SC with only just enough water to reach the protection of the old quay. I had been seeing big jellyfish for days now, this species were a pinky-brown colour and about the size of pub beer trays. I wondered if they were substantial enough to jam the prop and stall the outboard!

Sunday 9th — E f3

Had to wait until midday to float so watched the preparations for a race of Laser 4000s. I couldn’t figure out what all the control lines did, being used to simple, lo-tech sailing. Their speed was impressive. Later I headed upstream. I have passed under the Forth Rail Bridge a number of times but I’m still amazed at the sheer size of the structure. I anchored next to the club moorings at Blackness. A handicap race was finishing and there was some interesting craft to watch. Later I cheated the tide once again up to Grangepans. My intention was to get near to Bo’ness to visit the steam railway and the Pilot favoured this place to the silted up docks at Bo’ness. The usual friendly greeting was received from club members who warned me of the deep, glue-like mud which to attempt to cross would be foolhardy, but I was welcome to a safe, mud mooring for the night.

Monday 10th

I took the first of the ebb to motor 3M downstream to Blackness in calm conditions. The boat was beached next to the launching slip. I met a club member who offered to take me to town. The railway was closed on Mondays! I should’ve thought. The town was interesting although its heyday was long since past. Fine buildings had been built when trade from the docks and railway was booming, but the opening of the Forth & Clyde Canal further upstream had diverted trade away. The river dumps lots of silt in this area and it was only Admiralty money in wartime that last dredged the docks properly for the use of frigates. On return I had a look around the Blackness Castle, then took the boat across the river, past the Royal Fleet Auxiliary stores depot at New Crombie Jetty where RFA Fort Austin was loading. Later she would rendezvous with NATO warships to replenish them at sea. The Pilot had advised of a very attractive drying anchorage tucked behind the old ruined pier of Crombie. This involved some very careful pilotage as instructions were to ‘feel your way in amongst the rocks’ to find firm sand near the beach.

Tuesday 11th

I set off to beach again at Blackness and visit the steam railway. Visibility was poor, I could barely see Blackness Castle. Half-way across the fog closed in giving 50m visibility. I stopped the motor to listen out for ships’ engines then started the search for the stowed compass. Five minutes later I had it, I calculated a rough course, started the engine and duly the castle loomed into view, my position being a little further downstream than expected. After beaching, this time alongside the launching slip I caught the infrequent bus to Bo’ness. The railway trip was good but the better visit was to the fire clay mine at the end of the line. A quarter mile of galleries are preserved and open to the public. Once back aboard I sailed to Brucehaven on the ebb, a favourite stop on a previous cruise. A club officer gave me a visitor’s key to give access to the facilities.

Wednesday 12th

Visited Culross and Stirling by bus.

Thursday 13th — SW 4-5 dec 3

Sailed on the ebb to anchor in the lee of Cramond Island to await higher water to reach Cramond village. At half tide I went ashore to explore and view the channel upriver from a high vantage point. The channel is marked by buoys and withies, some of which have no-parking cones as high-viz topmarks. But the best topmark was a three cornered, rotating, red and white job. It was highly attractive to the eye. Later in the club a member said this was experimental and highly popular so far. Some cynical members though were awaiting a seizure of the bearing which would enable them to say “I told you so.” I moored up against the wall. The friendly club made their facilities available.

Friday 14th

Took the bus to Edinburgh especially to see the street entertainers as the Fringe had started. Set sail on the evening HW to run to North Berwick using the ebb. Lack of daylight and a following wind increasing in strength to estimated f5 in gusts with quite large waves made it prudent to again use my bolt-hole of Fidra.

Saturday 15th

Missed the forecast! Walked up to the summit of the island to view the seas. The wind was westerly and perhaps a little less strong than the previous night. The most sheltered water looked to be inshore. In a lively sea I ran past Craigleith and Bass Rock on a half rolled jib and entered Dunbar to have dinner ashore and await the 13.50 forecast. The forecast gave no change. I sailed with the comfort of knowing that before the headland of St Abbs lay the bolt-hole of Cove. Just before reaching Cove I made a decision to go in. The entrance is difficult to a first timer. Trying to get a leading-line by recognition of particular shades of cliff and to be sure of a half-tide rock from the Pilot is nerve-wracking. But with crystal clear water and no swell it became easy once I was close. The harbour was wonderful, a couple of crab boats were alongside the wall, I ran onto the small sandy beach. Pedestrian access to the harbour is by tunnel, only the fishermen may use vehicles on the track. Two summer cottages tuck in against a steep, grassy cliff, one of which was occupied, two semi-ruined fishermen’s houses were used as storeroom and holiday residence for the harbour owner. The chap in the summer cottage said “You are the first visitor in two years.” If you could put this place in the Solent it would rate as highly as Newtown River. In fact, from Cove south to Eyemouth, including St Abbs Head is a stretch of coast as ruggedly beautiful as any I know. It’s exposure to the occasionally malevolent North Sea means it is seldom sailed. The 17.50 forecast predicted the wind backing to south and strong! I had to get out now or face a beat. Conditions outside were easier as I sailed south fully reefed on a reach. I was nervous approaching St Abbs Head but half way round found a calm sea and wind reduced to SW f2-3. I decided to continue past St Abbs harbour and Eyemouth to enter Burnmouth. A local advised me where to moor and soon I was walking up the steep road to the pub near the top.

Sunday 16th

Left at 08.00 and had a fine sail close-hauled to Berwick. Entered the Tweed and tacked in against the tide in a steady light wind. Suddenly, out of nowhere a gust laid me over further than I’ve ever been in this boat. Water was pouring over the side and I was turning into wind as fast as possible. The gust lasted about 10 seconds I suppose. The wind then resumed its steady f2 again! I was expecting more funny business but the wind was perfectly behaved thereafter. I found myself thinking about that incident repeatedly but have no explanation to offer. I anchored just below the Old Town Bridge close to a couple of salmon netting dinghies and prepared the mast for lowering.

Monday 17th

The salmon netters had invited me to join them. I had hoped to be some help but the technique was such that I soon saw that I’d be a hindrance. It was best I watched and asked questions only. The fish were despatched by a metal bar but one I was handling was only stunned and bit my hand! That evening I walked the Elizabethan ramparts with the aid of a guide book. I was surprised to learn that Elizabeth spent more money on defences of this town than all other military expenditure put together. The remains of the earlier medieval castle were largely demolished to build the railway station!

Tuesday 18th

Two hours before HW I lowered the mast and headed upstream, hoping to reach Norham. I only got as far as West Ord where shallow water and a fast running stream turned me back. I then tried my luck on the Whiteadder Water (a tributary) but with the same result. I dropped back a little into deeper water and had lunch in complete quiet before motoring back to Berwick and my favourite anchorage. The boat was prepared for sea. A NW f3 took me halfway to Holy Island but then a sea breeze headed me and I was forced to motor sail into The Ouse, the completely sheltered, drying harbour of the island. Spent the late afternoon and evening ashore.

Wednesday 19th

The forecast for the following two days was ghastly. I decided to cut short the holiday and make my mooring at Amble in one go. I started with a f4-5 on the beam. After Seahouses the wind had me close hauled. I had a fairly wild motor-sail crossing the bay to the steeply shelving shore off Dunstanburgh Castle. Now able to keep close inshore conditions were fine until entering Alnmouth Bay. I blasted through the steep seas, some spray reaching halfway up the main sail until closing the shore once again. The usually reasonable organisation of the boat had become a shambles. The motor did heroic work that day. Further offshore a yacht decided to tack inshore too. I think he was sailing without engine assistance. Arrived at Amble quite tired and damp, but no gear lost or broken. Verdict — a wild and unpleasant sail but worth it to avoid suffering two days of rain.