Running home with mackerel

The next crew, son number 1 Warren and his old friend Tim, arrived by train on Friday afternoon. There they are, with the rucksacks.

It was great to welcome them aboard. After a late lunch, off we set on Friday afternoon on the short 15-mile journey south to Blyth. Both Skipper and Mate had been looking forward to these two strapping lads joining us to give a hand with crewing the boat ... or so we thought.

The youth of today just don't seem to have the stamina that our generation did! Never mind, they redeemed themselves a little later by catching our supper: four large mackerel.

Blyth is not the most picturesque of harbours although the 9 wind turbines positioned along its breakwater do have a certain kind of beauty. The marina at Blyth is run by the Royal Northumbrian Yacht Club; their clubhouse is a converted lightship, complete with bar in the hold and shower and toilet facilities on deck for members. Quite excellent!

Saturday was the perfect day for sailing: warm(ish), sunny and light breeze from the south-west. As the distance to our next port of call was not far, we decided to sail north a little way to Newbiggin Bay where we anchored for lunch. This is the site of the Sean Henry sculpture Couple, which is situated on the new breakwater - two figures about 5 times life size and cast in bronze - an amazing sight. Some horses were being given a swim in the bay and seemed to be enjoying it but none of our crew felt inclined to follow suit unfortunately. Just a little too chilly for us humans!

We then enjoyed a splendid sail down the coast towards Newcastle, our next port of call. The crew was keen to try its hand at fishing again. Slowing down to about 2.5 knots, out went the lines and within 30 minutes we had four more large mackerel in the bucket. Lucky we all wanted fresh fish for supper again!

Warren even managed to overcome his squeamishness and clean the second day's catch.

By 18:30 hours that same evening we were dodging bulk carriers and huge car transporters emerging from the River Tyne just as Follyfin was entering it. We had a good view of the actual Newcastle as we did so. That night we berthed in the Royal Quays Marina, 2 miles up river from the harbour entrance.

Yesterday, Sunday 22nd July, we needed to get to Hartlepool in order for our crew to catch their train back to London. There was no question of not going out on the water, even though winds of force 5-7 were forecast. [In fact, the highest wind speed recorded on our instruments that day was 34.2 knots, force 8, whilst the maximum boat speed was 8.7 knots with 2 reefs in the mainsail and 50% of jib reefed ... not bad going!] So with two reefs in the sail we set off south. It was what one might call a lively sail and kept us all alert between trimming the sails, helming, reefing the jib and preparing drinks and food below. Staying upright in the galley was quite a challenge. On the way, we enjoyed a grandstand view of various aerobatics at the Sunderland Airshow. We were especially entertained by the Red Arrows display.

Despite being kept waiting for about 25 minutes outside the lock into Hartlepool marina, we made it in time for the train which is the important thing. Although it was sad to see this final crew depart, our feelings were tinged with a frisson of excitement at the prospect of several days at home on 'holiday'. Hartlepool is where we have decided to leave Follyfin - who also needs a rest of course - and go back to Follyfoot which is only an hour's drive away. So there will be a temporary hiatus in posts to this blog until we return to sail on south to London. We hope to get to St. Katherine's Dock by early-mid September before bringing the boat north again for the winter. The intention is to publish the itinerary for this final 'leg' of the Tour before we set off again, so anyone who might be near to the coast where we will be at the time, please do get in touch to arrange a rendez-vous. In the meantime though, it's 'au revoir' from Skipper and Mate. Over and out for now!

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Ambling with old friends

Jennie and Dave and the First Mate have known each other for over 4 decades, since we were all students in Edinburgh. They drove over to see us in Amble from their home in Corbridge on Thursday, arriving mid afternoon.

It was great to see them again after a long period of only brief encounters and Xmas card communications.We much enjoyed 'catching up' in time- honoured fashion.

After dining on hot smoked salmon - a delicacy we have come to savour on the journey since first tasting the real McCoy on west coast of Scotland - from the excellent fish shop in Eyemouth, we ambled along the river (Amble marina in background) to the delightful village of Warkworth with its own castle ruin, checking out a local hostelry - The Hermitage - on the way.

Friday morning dawned bright and sunny. Alnwick and its castle of Harry Potter fame, also home to the Duke of Northumberland (the lion and its tail seen below is his emblem) is just a few miles from Amble so Skipper and Mate were delighted to be entertained to some land-based touring, courtesy of our temporary 'crew'.

Adorning the turrets and walls of Alnwick castle is a selection of human figures adopting various poses, one of which caught the Mate's eye. It shows a person with cudgel in hand about to vent his/her wrath on some other object or person ... something she occasionally feels like doing when commanded by the Skipper for the umpteenth time: "keep the boat into wind!" while all along that is exactly what she has been doing her best to do!

Jennie and Dave kindly provided transport from Alnmouth station back to Amble for the next crew arriving from London on Friday afternoon. Then it was time to bid farewell again but this time we vow not to leave it so long before meeting up again - easier now that we are based in the North as well.

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Bye Bye Eyemouth, Hello Amble

Engine, actually starter motor, was sorted by end of play on Tuesday ... as well as its relays (whatever they might be). So FF was fully functional again and we set off mid-morning on Wednesday. Our plan to drop into Berwick-on-Tweed had to be dropped as not only was the tide not right but there was no time. We had more pressing engagements. Neither were we able to visit Holy Island nor to anchor in the so-called "kettle" in the Farne Islands since settled weather is required for that, and with a force 7 wind blowing, and raining, we decided against it. There will be another chance to visit those places I am sure.

With the wind gusting to force 9 on the way down to Amble, we decided to seek shelter in a pretty anchorage named Newton Haven. As it turned out this was a bad decision: the wind changed direction to the North during the night and the resultant swell coming broadside onto the boat ensured we had a virtually sleepless night! Never mind ...

So by 5 o'clock this morning we were underway again to make the last leg down to Amble. And boy were we glad to tie up on the pontoon for breakfast! We have two rendez-vous to make in this place so looking forward to some company over the next few days.

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Aye Aye Eyemouth

'Tis the third day in Eyemouth now, waiting for repair to engine starter motor. The Skipper tells me he is on the case and hopes the new part will arrive later today or tomorrow. Watch this space! Meanwhile he has been fraternising with the local fishermen, as he is wont to do, and his early start yesterday paid dividends ...

This rich harvest of giant prawns - otherwise known as langoustines - from the sea just off this coast, was brought aboard in a large carrier bag by the Skipper before breakfast yesterday. All were cooked (in 10 relays because neither the galley stove nor our largest pot was big enough to cook all in one go) by lunchtime. We then sat down to enjoy as many as we could eat for lunch.

Delicious consolation for the delay to our trip ... we were supposed to be in the Farne Islands today! Plenty left over for a couple more lunches I reckon, but hopefully the next harvest from the sea will be made further down the coast.

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Standing room only

Just after midday on Friday 13th, the rising tide allowed us to depart from Dysart, bound first east out of the Firth of Forth and then south to Dunbar. The wind direction required us to tack back and forth, dodging some large commercial vessels on the way. Although colourful, emerging suddenly out of the fog they are highly dangerous.

It is vital to look out for such craft, which approach at speed and one does not want to get in their way. Our route took us between the Bass Rock and the coast. From afar it looks like it is completely covered in white flowers.

On closer inspection the white flowers are transformed into a host of gannets, 100,000 of them in fact. The 'rock' is 350 ft high and lies 3 miles offshore. Not only gannets but also razorbills, terns, puffins, guillemots and fulmars come to nest on it in summer.

Another species of seabird welcomed us in Dunbar harbour.

Yes, Follyfin was berthed just below the largest Kittiwake colony on a man-made surface (ruined Dunbar Castle) in the UK, about 35,000 Kittiwakes in fact. The castle does seem to be showing a few signs of wear and tear whilst performing this valuable function though.

Needless to say, the Kittiwakes kept us alert and made sure we did not oversleep on Saturday morning.

Although we liked Dunbar, we felt we should leave the Kittiwakes in peace. So on Saturday afternoon we departed through the narrow and very exciting entrance to Dunbar Harbour (this blogger was too anxious to take photos on the way in the day before ... the entrance does not become apparent until just before the sharp left turn in has to be made).

We are currently sitting in Eyemouth Harbour which also has a narrow entrance ... the photo below is from inside the harbour.

An unfortunate incident occurred just before we came into Eyemouth. We had been fishing again whilst slowly sailing down from Dunbar, and yes we, or rather the Skipper, caught 3 more mackerel. Chuffed with success, the mate went to start the engine to get sails down before entering harbour but immediately a strange noise was heard and smoke came pouring out of the engine compartment! It seems that the starter motor had packed up. Luckily the engine was running so we were able to get into the harbour but now it's off, it can't be started again. However we have already had a marine engineer on board and we hope to get it sorted tomorrow or Tuesday so this little hiatus should not interfere too seriously with our plans - we are expecting more visitors towards next weekend. For now though we are stuck in Eyemouth, first or last port of call in Scotland, depending on which way round you are sailing!

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A fish, a fish!

Well actually 4, but 2 got away (oh yes they did ...)

Having a couple of hours to kill on Wednesday, whilst waiting for the tide to go into the next port of call, we anchored off north Fife coast in the pleasant Largo Bay in the Firth of Forth. The sun actually shone for a while as we had lunch on deck.

The 'youngsters' decided to fish and at last the mackerel cooperated, so we are encouraged.

Since our crew joined us on Sunday evening, we have been sailing almost non-stop. From Stonehaven, where the old town and harbour are attractive but the new town less so,

we headed south to Arbroath, of Smoky fame. The wind was brisk (maximum wind speed 30.5 knots so just into Force 7 but was 5 or 6 most of the time) and the swell quite large but thanks to precautionary measures, no one suffered sea sickness. In fact it was a most enjoyable downwind sail. The following day we sourced the best smokery in town - Messrs M & M Spink, as seen on TV (apparently) with Rick Stein (let's hope he doesn't do to Arbroath what he has done to Padstow) - purchased a large supply, and then slipped our lines just in time to catch the sea lock out before it closed for the day. Whilst in the harbour there we saw a clam boat under restoration, with its nets hanging over the side. Clams, crabs and lobsters are the only catch landed on this coast now, which is sad. All the white fish, including the haddock for the smokies, is imported from the west coast.

Our next port of call was Anstruther on the north coast of the Firth of Forth - a very picturesque harbour with a very well deserved reputation for excellent fish and chips which we can definitely endorse.

Once again we had to wait for the tide to get into Anstruther, so we incorporated a visit to the Isle of May en route. This island sits in the middle of the entrance to the Firth of Forth and is a bird and seal sanctuary. Anchoring off Altar Stones, the landing place, we rowed ashore and were rewarded with close up views of puffins in profusion, cormorants as well as many curious seals.

Yesterday, Thursday 12th, we arrived at the very pleasant small harbour of Dysart, just east of Kirkaldy. Here we said goodbye to Ivor and Marina who had to return to London. I for one will miss their help with the fenders and lines!

We are the only visitor and quite unusual since the harbour dries and boats of Follyfin's size would not normally visit as it is necessary to dry out against the wall. So we have had many curious people coming to have a look at us. Dysart was once an important and very busy commercial port enjoying a brisk import and export trade with the Low Countries and the Baltic.

Unfortunately the recently restored building housing the Dysart Sailing Club, seen in the foreground below, was burned out earlier this year. Arson was suspected.

Needing a little rest, we stayed in Dysart yesterday and walked along the coast to see the ruined Ravenscraig Castle.

The Skipper's scavenging tendencies came to the fore as usual ... but fortunately this item was just too heavy to carry back.

So today Friday, we are off again, bound for Dunbar and points south. Weather dull, grey and cold but at least it's not raining ... yet!

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Wicker's World

The more mature readers amongst you may remember the splendid journalist and broadcaster Alan Wicker. You will be pleased to know that his World is reincarnated in Wick, albeit not in it's original form (travelogue for intellectuals) but nevertheless alive and kicking as an accommodation facility cum fast food outlet ... not sure Alan would approve though.

Also in Wick we found the excellent Heritage Museum. It is a veritable cornucopia of treasures from decommissioned lighthouse - that of Noss Head, which would have been scrapped had not a local worthy rescued it - to the extensive Johnson collection of photographs taken during the town's heyday. It is probably best known for the huge number of 'silver darlings' that were caught offshore, making it the busiest herring port in Europe in mid-nineteenth century. Also spotted in the museum:

On Friday, with a backward glance to Wick, we were off across the Moray Firth to Whitehills, a small harbour on the north Moray coast.

The entrance to Whitehills is narrow but perfectly manageable in calm conditions if one is prepared to make the sharp left turn into the small outer harbour where we berthed overnight alongside another yacht.

Exiting though, into a rough sea with force 5 onshore wind, required some steadying of nerves.

However the Skipper rose to the occasion and after one false start we were off again, bound for Peterhead, the only 'obstacle' on the way being Rattray Head (that very pointed bit of land north of Aberdeen) which has a reputation for rough seas and standing waves around it under some conditions. So we planned the passage very carefully to arrive at the right time. Even so, this passage was one of the roughest we had had so far on this trip, and we concurred with a road sign seen in Whitehills the previous evening, for us referring to wind rather than vehicle speed.

Arriving in Peterhead Harbour - a not very attractive place - late on Saturday night, we only had time to eat, sleep and move on since we had to make rendez-vous with our next crew in Stonehaven by Sunday evening. More by luck than good management, we all arrived here within about 20 minutes of each other ... and in case you are wondering, no we have not acquired a new dog!

You may recognise these young people from an earlier post - Ivor and Marina - who were the first to join us for the passage Poole to Weymouth way back in early May. Moored up alongside a Trip boat in the outer harbour, there is an evil ladder to negotiate to step ashore, with a rise and fall of tide of 3 metres, and a swell making the operation feel even more insecure (at least for me, I am not afraid to admit). This morning we need to get underway again in a short while to catch the south-going tide to Arbroath, home of the famous 'smokie'.

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