Bye bye Whitehaven
Hello Scotland! Yes we are in Scotland at last.
At last we escaped from Whitehaven where we had been both storm bound and digestively challenged for three and a half days, mainly under grey skies and raining. Venturing north-westwards across the mouth of Morecambe Bay, we caught no glimpse of winkle pickers, of either Chinese or footwear variety, but did see in the distance the largest wind farm ever. There must have been hundreds of windmills; they made an impressive sight but had we been nearer I am sure they would have made an impressive noise too.
The wind direction was 'on the nose', requiring us to tack towards our destination, so in the end we covered 41 miles to Isle of Whithorn harbour, instead of the 25 miles by direct line. That is the joy of (skipper)/trouble with (mate) relying on the wind for propulsion ... it invariably prevents one from going directly to one's destination.
Eventually though Skipper was forced to resort to engine since the tidal gate at Isle of Whithorn was rapidly closing and we needed to get there for the night.
Phew! We just made it in with a few minutes to spare before we were left high and dry on the mud (thank goodness for the lifting keel again). Because we were late this meant waking at 03.00 to move the boat further into the harbour to make room for fishing boats coming in on the high tide. But hey, this place is so beautiful, what does the loss of a couple of hours sleep matter? Isle of Whithorn is home of St Ninian. More info and pics in the next blog, as the tide beckons again for our escape.
The wind direction was 'on the nose', requiring us to tack towards our destination, so in the end we covered 41 miles to Isle of Whithorn harbour, instead of the 25 miles by direct line. That is the joy of (skipper)/trouble with (mate) relying on the wind for propulsion ... it invariably prevents one from going directly to one's destination.
Eventually though Skipper was forced to resort to engine since the tidal gate at Isle of Whithorn was rapidly closing and we needed to get there for the night.
Phew! We just made it in with a few minutes to spare before we were left high and dry on the mud (thank goodness for the lifting keel again). Because we were late this meant waking at 03.00 to move the boat further into the harbour to make room for fishing boats coming in on the high tide. But hey, this place is so beautiful, what does the loss of a couple of hours sleep matter? Isle of Whithorn is home of St Ninian. More info and pics in the next blog, as the tide beckons again for our escape.
This blog post is late due to poor 3G signal at Isle of Whithorn. Looks like mobile signal will be slightly unpredictable from here northwards so posts may become even more irregular. Now on passage to Arran in Firth of Clyde.
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