T

hus far, our circumnavigation of Britain has
proved gloriously unpredictable. London
was every bit as special as expected and our
passage up the east coast has been challenging
but enjoyable, culminating in an impromptu
music festival in the small harbour town
of Amble. The cruising is only going to
get more testing as we head further north.
We leave Amble on the flood tide after approval from the
harbourmaster but still nudge a sandbank on our way out of the
narrow entrance. Thankfully, Azura shrugs it off with nothing
more than a shudder from her solid hull, and we’re soon back
in the North Sea heading for another small harbour, Eyemouth.
There’s a long swell out at sea which Azura takes in her stride
but when these gentle giants meet the land, they turn into
thunderous waves. My heart skips a beat when I read that the
harbour should not be approached in northerly winds but I’m
reassured by a call to the harbourmaster who reckons we’ll be okay.
Let’s hope so because from six miles out, we can see white spray
exploding off the rocks at the harbour entrance. As we get closer,
I watch a sailing vessel being thrown from side to side. Despite
reducing our speed, the following seas are still trying to push
us into the harbour. Now it gets really interesting as we have
to pick our way around the breakwater before turning into the
narrow entrance with its unforgiving concrete walls. To add to

the excitement, the breaking seas are rolling in at an angle, playing

havoc with our steering. It’s a real test of nerves but having safely

negotiated the hazards, I experience the same buzz of elation as

when I passed my driving test. My wife even congratulates me

on getting us safely through – a compliment so rare that it almost

merits the near-death experience!

no room at the inn

The following morning we call Port Edgar Marina in Edinburgh

only to be told there are no berths left large enough to take

us. We aren’t too bothered about missing Edinburgh as we’ve

visited on previous occasions. The nearest alternative is Arbroath

Marina, which confirms there is space for us, but we have to be

there by 7pm when the tidal gates will close. We plug on north.

On the approach to Arbroath we are welcomed in by a school

of dolphins. The marina is small and deathly quiet but we’re

pleasantly surprised by the cosy atmosphere and high-class cuisine

of the Old Brewhouse restaurant. Since we only can leave Arbroath

when the tide returns at noon the next day, we visit the Signal

Tower Museum and learn about the origins of the local lighthouses.

As soon as we leave for Peterhead we are surrounded by dense

fog. Anyone who’s ever sailed through foggy conditions will

know how boring yet stressful this is. You see nothing but still

you have to concentrate like mad using radar and AIS to detect

other shipping. A large freighter is heading towards us and is due

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TRAVEL