Boat: Suffolk Beach Punt Peregrine

In the summer of 2000 Peregrine and her crew decided to try and reach Iona off the southwest corner of Mull and explore some of the nooks and crannies along the south coast of Mull. This trip was between the 24th of June and the 7th July. The weather over this period was generally calm, sunny and warm. This allowed us to live on Peregrine under canvas for fourteen days with only one day of rain.

The wind for the fortnight remained in a northerly or northeasterly direction for the whole of the fortnight. This wind direction was ideal for exploring the south coast of Mull, as this is normally a lee shore and doesn’t offer much shelter. However, the wind in this direction usually results in calm days, fickle light winds and usually hot sunny days, but any sea breeze due to the sun is cancelled by the northerly wind; so sailing to Iona was going to be difficult.

Our port of departure was Ballachulish, which is situated on Loch Leven (Glencoe). Launching here is free and a shingle slipway out of a car park is reasonably steep into deep water. No problem with four wheel drive, but caution must be taken with heavy boats and normal cars. From here we sailed southwest to Cuil Bay in Loch Linnhe. The wind was light to nonexistent and was quite a challenge sailing out of Loch Leven into Loch Linnhe, until we cleared Kentallen Bay. We then picked up a strong northerly breeze. With the sea being initially calm, we were circled several times by some feeding porpoises, which are always a delight to see. With the strong breeze we quickly reached Balnagowan, but instead of anchoring in the usual northeast bay we sailed into Cuil Bay to gain some shelter and have a calm night sheltered from the northerly wind.

The following morning was sunny, but blowing a good force 4. But as soon as we cleared Balnagowan the breeze died to F2 and we were back under full sail, sailing down the Lynn of Morvern (west side of Lismore). About half way down the wind became lighter and by the time we reached Bernera Island the wind had completely died, thus we started to row. As the Sound of Mull started to open, the wind picked up to a F2 coming down the sound, and we romped along towards Duart Castle, but before we reached the other side the wind died and it was back to rowing. We had decided to spend the night in Loch Don, which was only a couple of miles away, so we decided to revert to the motor as the tide was beginning to generate quite large overfalls, with no wind! So, after a bit of a roller-coaster ride through these overfalls, giving some concern to a yacht following us, we nipped into Loch Don.

Loch Don’s entrance is protected by the usual set of rocks, which are covered at high water. Together with a submerged reef off the first point of land where the old ferry pier is, entry to the loch should be taken with care. The loch is also very shallow and much is dry at low water. We sailed further north into the loch until we cleared the headland on the western shore when a bay to the west appeared. Here we anchored in the channel. To the north of this point a headland juts out into the loch from the east, narrowing the channel. From this point rocks are visible and the loch dries completely. If you wish to land and dry-out, it is quite safe to do so in the northeast corner of this channel.

The next morning no wind was offering; thus we decided to land and anchor the boat off the beach and explore the local area. On entering the village, we sighted someone working in their garden and asked if we could get some water. As in most cases we were welcomed to fill our bottle. Leaving our bottle in their garden to collect on our return, we set off to walk to Craignure for some supplies. Not long into our walk we managed to hitch a lift. Having bought our supplies and refreshed by a local pint, we boarded the steam railway to Torosay Castle and then walked back to our boat.

By the time we had returned, the sun was well out and a nice southwesterly breeze was blowing, so we sailed out of Loch Don and started tacking along the coast to the entrance to Loch Spelve. This was certainly a pleasant sail and was enjoyed by both of us. On reaching this entrance, the tide was still against us, but we managed to sail about halfway in before resorting to the engine.

Once in the loch we set sail again to head for the northwest corner to anchor. Loch Spelve is heavily fish-farmed and plenty of floating obstacles greet you. If you are of a nervous disposition, you should also be wary of the ‘bird scarer’. This device randomly sets off a loud bang and yours truly nearly ended up at the top of the mast when it first went off! It may scare passing sailors, but the birds didn’t bat an eye. We anchored next to a lovely Hillyard yacht on a still and sunny evening.

Unfortunately the next day brought no wind and we sat on our boat and read some books, watching the world go by. Yes, a whole day on a 16ft boat doing nothing — we must be mad. But I have to say it was most relaxing and the book I was reading was rather gripping! That evening we were entertained by the skipper of a charter yacht dropping his crew off onto the shore. They were determined not to get their feet wet.

We woke at the crack of dawn to see very little wind, just enough to get us going. So we decided to see if we could make Carsaig, which was about fourteen miles of sailing and is found just west of Loch Buie on the south coast of Mull. We crept out of the anchorage with only one crew from the charter yacht watching us — not looking at all well: too much booze! We shot out of Loch Spelve’s entrance as the tide was with us, but the wind soon died. As we were in no rush and the tide was favourable, we started to row towards Frank Lockwood’s Island, which was on the southeast corner of Mull, about seven miles away. During this time we could examine Mull’s unfriendly coast line along this stretch and we were followed by a seal which was inquisitive in our rowing.

Eventually we reached Frank’s Island and a breeze picked up, allowing us to sail between the island and Mull, dodging the many seals and their pups in this channel. We coasted along the coast until Loch Buie opened out and the wind died again. Thus it was back to rowing for the last two miles. Coming from the east and at half tide, it is relatively easy to spot the numerous rocks that protect the Napoleonic pier, which is beginning to crumble, and the very rusty perches that guide you in. It is a different story at high tide and coming from the west, as you will see later. It was early afternoon and the holidaymakers were fishing off the pier when we arrived. I swear you could hold out a pan and the fish would jump in. It was teeming with fish and multitudes of sea life. We went hunting for water. Now the local holiday cottages were empty, but next to the footpath was the fresh water header tanks for these cottages. Now I don’t suggest that people do this, but needs must: we opened the inspection hatch and siphoned off a gallon. It was such a nice afternoon even the skipper went for a swim. Later we anchored off the pier to where we hoped water would still be despite the rocky bottom and watched the local otter out for its early evening jaunt. At low water, as rocks were nearly breaking around us, we had about six inches under the keel. If it had been springs we would have touched.

The next morning we woke to a slight swell running in due to an easterly breeze, so with this ideal wind in mind, we quickly had breakfast and set sail for Port Uisken or better still Erraid. Now the weather was gorgeous and with a nice force two we gently sailed along the coast. As we neared Port Uisken we could see lovely white sandy beaches, so it was decided to visit one. The one we selected had two bays, either side of a large rocky outcrop. One to the southeast was open to the swell; the other was a narrow bay funnelled by its high rocky outcrops and faced the southwest. The latter bay was chosen. You need to picture the blue skies, the turquoise seas, and the white sand — idyllic. With such a place the skipper thought this would be an ideal spot to take a photograph of the boat with sails up. We sailed into the bay and had to tack the last few yards, as the wind came round from the easterly bay. We landed. I quickly laid out the anchor, but we were deceived! A swell appeared and the wind swung back round and we were in danger of having the boat washed sideways up the beach. So, up to my waist in water, I dragged the boat back out and swung her nose into the swell while the crew dropped sails and then held the boat while I walked the anchor out to sea. Finally a kedge anchor was laid out to the beach and after a few minutes of bouncing up and down until the tide came in further, everything was back to normal and thus the photos could now be taken and lunch had. A lesson was learned, i.e. concentrate on the job at hand, not what you want to do. Next time I’ll anchor off the beach, then back in on the anchor warp.

After lunch we set sail, but as soon as we cleared the bay the wind died, so it was back to the oars. We decided that as it was early afternoon we would still try for Erraid, so we rowed three miles until we reached Rubh’ Ardalanish. There we picked up a westerly F2-3 wind, so we started tacking along the coast. It’s at this point that the Torran rocks come into play, so the game is how far each tack should be, especially the one out to sea. At this point the skipper becomes nervous, pilot book in one hand, chart in the other trying to identify each rock. The problem is that there is one rock, Bogha nan Ramthear, on the shore passage, that’s only visible at low tide. Judging where that rock lies is the nerve wracking bit, and taking the ‘thear’ part of the name is appropriate. Anyway, we successfully navigated this bit, but as the tide was against us and we were becoming tired, we decided to switch on the engine and motor the last mile to Bagh a’ Chnoic Mhaoileanaich, which is a sandy bay to the east of Erraid. This bay forms a channel around Erraid, but it only looked passable for a small boat at very high springs. For the prevailing easterly weather this was a very sheltered anchorage, but if from the southwest, I would suspect a large swell could hinder this anchorage.

Again, we woke to a glorious day and after exploring the beach and swabbing the decks we set sail for Iona. The wind was north to northwest, which meant we were going to be tacking all the way. It was an enjoyable sail tacking between the rocky islands, especially tacking up the narrow channel of Tinker’s Hole, with its notable submerged rock smack bang in the middle. Once into the Sound of Iona we were tacking against the tide. Even though the tide was coming in, it was against us and got stronger as we headed further up the channel; however we were still making way. We decided to land on the beach north of the slip, but we arrived at high water and there was not much beach left and a few rocks to negotiate. Fortunately these rocks are easily seen as they are black compared to the white bottom, so with the tide and wind setting us on to the slip, we sailed in, dodged the rocks and landed perfectly on the beach — a bit different from the previous day. With it being high water, we quickly got rid of rubbish, replenished water, replenished food, took the customary photograph and then we were off. We didn’t really see Iona after all that! So taking the tide with us we fast-sailed back the way we came. We were doing so well that we decided to sail on past the previous night’s anchorage to Traig Gheal, which was a reasonably sheltered anchorage in the current conditions. It lies west of Rubh’ Ardalanish. Seeing we were having good winds and feeling confident, we decided to sail into the bay, which meant tacking and anchoring under sail, being observed by another yacht already anchored. Feeling satisfied, we had our dinner, watched the sunset and retired to bed.

The following day was hot and sunny and unfortunately only a very light southeasterly wind was available. We intended to sail to Luing, but with the wind as it was this was going to be impossible, so it was decided to see if we could get to Carsaig again. On leaving the bay the wind died and the tide was taking us west when we wanted to go east. It was quite surprising how strong the tide was just offshore. Thus we rowed into the next bay just east of Rubh’ Ardalanish and anchored to wait for some wind. Just before lunch wind appeared and we started sailing again. The wind was F2 from the southeast, which allowed us to sail on a reach along the coast. This was a slow sail but enjoyable. Eventually we approached Carsaig, but it was high tide and all the rocks were covered apart from some of the outside reef. Sailing on the inside of this reef I was looking for the perches which would guide me through the rocks protecting the pier. However, these are rusty and broken and against a dark background of trees are almost impossible to see. It was not until we had sailed well to the east that we could see them and then we could head back following the perches in. I would not recommend this to anyone with a nervous disposition. We decided that we would anchor behind the local fishing boat over the only sandy patch available. This meant we were happier that we were not going to dry out on a rock as we thought last time. As we sat there having our lunch, no rocks were yet visible. I would not recommend this place in a southwesterly. I suspect it has spectacular breaking waves over the reefs.

The next day was again hot and sunny with little or no wind, so after breakfast we decided we would head for Puilladobhrain, where we could get fuel. Therefore we could use our engine today if no wind appeared. We set off under engine, but soon a zephyr from the south appeared and we decided to ghost along the coast towards Frank Lockwood’s Island. Doing a great speed of a quarter of a knot, it give us plenty of time to look at the wildlife around us. Soon the zephyr disappeared and we reverted to the engine. We stayed under engine until we were two miles off Puilladobhrain, when an easterly F3 appeared. This last hour we had a cracking sail tacking in towards the anchorage. Knowing the anchorage well, we decided to sail right in with a yacht following under engine. We decided to anchor at the southern end of the anchorage next to the last yacht. The yacht’s skipper was a bit worried when I sailed across his bows and anchored off his starboard side close to the shore. After dropping sails, he shouted his concern that we might have anchored over his anchor and he was worried about swinging onto us. Considering the weather conditions and distance between us, I considered this was likely. To foster good relations I decided to anchor at the very southern end of the bay to dry out on the mud.

The following morning we woke to a windless but overcast day. We had already decided it was going to be a day off and that when we dried out we would go to the pub for a drink and get some fuel. It was quite fascinating, as the last of the water began to disappear, to see the mass exodus of crabs going out with the tide. Now this mud is quite deep as our boat’s keel sank right in (12 inches) and she was bolt upright with no movement. So we stepped off and sank! This was going to be interesting! My crew set off from the bow and soon began to struggle. I suggested he came back, but he couldn’t turn round and just kept ploughing on with mud up to his knees. I decided to set off from the stern towards a trickle of water. After a few steps, I reached this trickle and no longer sank, so following this I reached the shore without any difficulty. Meanwhile my crew was really having difficulty. Now I am ashamed to say I was killing myself laughing, when it could have been really serious. Eventually my crew made it and collapsed to have a cigarette to recover! So I had to buy him a pint to earn my forgiveness. I still had to tell him that we had yet to get back! This was achieved easily by following my path back out to the boat. I would recommend this bay for drying out, but don’t get out!

We had decided we would have our evening meal in the pub, but we were not going through the mud again! So when the water came in we returned to where we originally anchored, only to be soon joined by the same yacht from the previous day, who also anchored in the same place. We had a friendly chat, but no concerns were raised. I think he was fascinated in what we were doing. I was setting up a running mooring to the shore. This was achieved by tying several fenders to the anchor, a large ‘D’ shackle on these fenders with a rope tied to the bow of the boat going through the shackle and then to the shore and then back to the stern of the boat. So all the anchor warp is thrown over the side and then we row to the shore to get off, then we push the boat off and pull the rope connected to the bow, and hey presto we are on the shore and the boat is back at its anchor. On return, all we had to do was pull the rope from the stern to retrieve the boat. Unfortunately, I misjudged how deep the shore was. When we touched, I stepped out, disappearing up to my waist. The boat had touched a rock!

This was really the end of the trip. It was now a case of just getting back to Ballachulish. Unfortunately, there was no wind and we basically spent three days motoring back, stopping at Loch Creran, Cuil Bay and Bishop’s Bay in Loch Leven. Despite this ending, we had been lucky with the weather, had a great relaxing time and have some wonderful memories of the trip. Next time we might try and spend a bit more time on Iona.