We can’t believe our eyes when we spot
a small fl oating pontoon. It has not yet
found its way into nautical literature
and appears to us like a gift from godThe picturesque town with its tiny harbour immediately makes
an impression on us. Dozens of sailing dinghies are moored
to buoys in the bay and a handful of small trawlers are docked to
a wooden pier. If it weren’t for the weather, we could be in the Med.
We approach the pier but every slot is occupied. We can hardly
believe our eyes when we spot a small fl oating pontoon with a
motor yacht tied to it. This pontoon has not yet found its way into
any of the nautical literature and appears to us like a gift from god.
We inch closer to see whether we can dock on the other side- we can. In fact, the wind pushes us towards the pontoon rather
too quickly, needing a sharp burst on Azura’s powerful thrusters
to avoid landing on it too harshly. Soon we are safely moored and
chuffed to bits despite the lack of shorepower and water. Later in
the evening, the other motor yacht relocates from the pontoon to
a buoy in the bay, leaving me to wonder why.
MOOR’S THE PITY
The next morning, as I’m about to start my daily routine of
fi lling in the logbook and checking the weather reports, I fi nd
the harbourmaster standing in front of our boat with a stern
expression on his face. Before I can say a word, he tells me that
I have to leave immediately and should
not under any circumstances have
moored to this pontoon – the structure
is too weak to support a big boat and
is only meant for tenders embarking
and disembarking crew.
I plead guilty as charged and ask
where I should move to instead. The
north wind is blowing stronger than ever,
there is no other harbour anywhere near
and according to his own protestations,
even the mooring buoys are too weak fora craft of our size. Nor do I like the idea of swinging on our own
anchor in these rocky surroundings. The only option is the pier
but the long section is already occupied by fi shing boats, leaving
only the short section free. This measures no more than 35ft long,
meaning our boat will stick out by 20ft each end.
At fi rst, the harbourmaster turns down this suggestion, but
since we lack any real alternative he fi nally agrees to give it a try.
We discuss the manoeuvre and assign roles to the crew. The
fi rst attempt fails because I approach the pier too slowly and
the wind pushes us away. The second attempt works fi ne and
the harbourmaster suddenly becomes a different person. He
climbs up the iron ladder and helps to set our lines securely.
It’s not just the harbourmaster’s face that relaxes; we breathe
a sigh of relief too and enjoy a well-earned breakfast.
We rent a car for two days and explore the island from north
to south, taking a trip over Skye Bridge to the famous Eilean
Donan Castle. This spectacular sight is located on a tidal islet
and was completely destroyed during the Jakobite rebellion by
300 barrels of gunpowder. After 200 years as a ruin, the castle
was rebuilt to its original plans between 1912 and 1932 and
is now open to the public
When the wind fi nally abates, we leave Skye and head for
Stornoway on the Isle of Lewis. Much to our surprise, we fi nd
a very comfortable marina here and make the most of it, taking
time to appreciate the famous Harris tweed and the many
spectacular lagoons and beaches, which in terms of colouring
and clarity, are a match for anything the Caribbean has to offer.
It’s a brief respite as from here on, things start to get really
serious as we attempt to circumnavigate Scotland’s north coast.
Here there will be no protection from the North Atlantic and
with no safe harbours until we reach the Orkneys, we will have
to wait for a weather window to complete this all-day leg. You
can fi nd out how we get on in next month’s instalment.72TRAVELEilean Donan castle
on its tidal islet
Loch Lochy on the
Caledonian canalMenacing rocks on
the Isle of LewisThe view from
one of the
castle’s turretsCorpach at the
western end of
the canal
A memorial to
the fi shermen
of Lewis