The full deck – Ireland and Highlands

Neither of us had slept well on our last night in Strangford Lough.   I had strange and vivid dreams where I was in a number of situations outside my control while Steve was restless and kept checking on the mooring buoy lines.  

Several people had shared their experiences of being met with large crashing waves as they left the Lough entrance and had been swept perilously close to rocks and these stories were whirling round my head in the early hours of the morning.    Our journey started at 4:30am in a gentle breeze with a little cloud and no moon as we made our way up the river in the pitch dark.   We both peered ahead of us, trying to see whether we could make out the white foam of any crashing waves as we drew closer to the Lough entrance.  

The sky was getting light as we reached the first buoy marking the entrance and much to our relief, the sea looked calm and winds were as forecast in a direction that was perfect for our sail north.    We motored clear of any rocks and then hoisted the sails taking advantage of the northerly running current as we made excellent speed up the coast.    I was in my very happy space again – the three sails trimmed, making eight knots while hand steering close to the shore, watching cars meander along the coastal road taking their passengers to start their day.   I felt enormously privileged as we watched the sun rise over the sea and enjoyed the warmth of its early heat as we sped along in our small home to discover new places.

My niece, Fay, lives in Donaghadee, which is at the end of a long headland at the mouth of Belfast Lough.  We waved towards land as we cruised by, in the vague hope she may see us before catching up with her later in the week!   A group of islands lie off the headland and we cut through Donaghadee Sound to get into Belfast Lough.   The current was at full strength against us and we could not stem the tide under sail, so furled the jibs and powered up the engine.   With wind and tide against us, the sea became quite choppy and as we made our way down the main channel into the busy port of Belfast, we negotiated the heavy traffic coming into and out of the city while monitoring the port radio. 

The long channel of the Lough became less choppy as we entered the protected city harbour and we passed the large docks and container ships as we motored further into the harbour until the channel split into three and we took the middle option, continuing to the marina in Queens Quay.   The small marina is relatively new and operates on a first-in-first-served basis.  We were under the false impression that, as we had “booked” space, we would have a berth reserved for us.  This was not the case, but fortunately there was plenty of room and we moored side on to a pontoon before purchasing a “pay and display” ticket to display in our cabin window.   The facilities were excellent with access to a “lounge area” with free showers, internet, laundry and comfortable seating.   In addition the marina is walking distance from Belfast city centre and alongside the excellent Titanic Museum.   Apart from the noise and bright street lighting from being in the city centre, we loved the marina – and the cheapest one we have found – by far.

The Titanic was designed and built in Belfast and the Titanic Museum tracks the design process, build, launch, personalities and fateful journey of the ship and passengers.   We spent a really interesting few hours touring the museum and getting immersed in the lives of the designers, architects and builders of this iconic ship.   It was fascinating to see photographs, letters, re-created cabins and a walk through of the different levels/classes of the ship.  

Belfast is a wonderful city, full of beautiful sculptures, a great mix of modern and historic buildings and pedestrianised areas.  I loved it. 

It became clear, after talking to other yachties, that our intentions to continue sailing around Ireland was not going to be possible due to the continued Covid restrictions in the South.   As Scotland is visible from Northern Ireland and only a short sail, we decided to complete the full set of UK countries and head for the West Coast. 

My parents introduced me and my sisters to sailing when we were very young.  Every weekend from Spring to Autumn was spent at a sailing club and all of us have continued with the passion our parents encouraged us to learn and participate in.   My sister, Lynn, and I spent many summers sailing around the West Coast of Scotland with mum and dad and I have wonderful memories of special times exploring the beautiful islands.   My parents loved the sailing so much, they moved to Tighnabruaich on the Kyles of Bute and lived very happily there for 30 years until they both passed away within 11 months of each other a few years ago.   My parents would’ve been so encouraging and excited for our adventure, so it seemed very fitting to take Cerulean to the Kyles of Bute to honour their memory.

After spending a lovely few days with my niece, Fay (who is pregnant with her second child) and Isla, we set off early one morning in winds of about 20knots and headed for Stranraer in Loch Ryan.   The faint outline of the Scottish hills were visible as we headed North East, soon we could make out large turbines on the hills, followed by shapes of buildings and eventually colours were added to the mix of scenery slowly unfolding in front of us.   We dropped the anchor in a very sheltered bay and set off early the next morning for a 43mile sail to the Isle of Arran in the Firth of Clyde where we picked up a free mooring buoy in Brodick on the east side of the island.   My parents loved Arran, which was visible from their house, and was a favourite destination for them to sail to, so I was excited to be there, 40 years after my last visit!  

We spent a few glorious days exploring Brodick with its castle on one side of the bay, overlooking the small town.  The weather was sunny and warm – Steve even went for a quick dip in the sea, announcing this would be the last swim of the season – I was very impressed but I’m not so sure he would’ve been so quick to jump in if he’d seen the size of the jellyfish that swam past the boat later!

We had a lovely sail to Lochranza, in the north of Arran and visited the Isle of Arran whisky distillery where we had a tasting and introduction to the distilling process.  I have never been a huge fan of whisky, but learned a lot and can see that I could easily develop a taste for it – so much so that we spent a fortune on a bottle, just in case we needed it for medicinal purposes, of course!

The sail to Kames, in the Kyles of Bute, was magical for so many reasons.   I was excited about being back in very familiar surroundings, emotional about honouring my parents and looking forward to catching up with old family friends.   The weather was excellent with a good wind and, as we made our way down the Kyles, another boat raced us as we both travelled at over 8knots – well, I’m not sure the other boat knew it was a race but I believe two boats on the water constitutes one!   We won, dropping our sails as we came level with The Kames Hotel and picked up one of their free mooring buoys.  The familiar houses and scenery of my parents home town stretched out in front of us and I felt a mixture of sadness, happiness and impatience to get ashore! 

Our time in Kames and Tighnabruaich was incredibly special for me.  There were times I was quite overwhelmed with emotion, particularly when we were moored below my parents’ old home.  We met a number of mum and dad’s friends from the village, caught up with the lovely couple who bought their house, had a delicious meal at The Royal Hotel in Tighnabruaich (we had moved to one of their free mooring buoys so wanted to say thank you!), and had a wonderful lunch with mum and dad’s dear friends, Renee and Colin, in their garden after availing ourselves of their shower and washing machine!

To make our visit even more special, I had arranged a video catch up with mum’s brother, Michael and Bronwyn.  Michael had recently been discharged from hospital following an operation and was poorly but interested in our adventures and where we were.  We spent a lovely 15 minutes chatting, sadly this would be our last conversation as Michael passed away a few days later.

Leaving Tighnabruaich was hard but it also soothed a few raw emotions I had been harbouring.  My father, at least, once shared a similar dream of sailing across oceans.  They fulfilled some of that dream by sailing their 27ft yacht, Scapha, to the Azores before GPS and reliable weather forecasting – an incredible achievement I have huge admiration and respect for.  Cerulean is luxurious compared to Scapha and they would have encouraged and relished our adventure.   As Renee said to me, they would have had bunting flying in their garden to welcome us to the Kyles if they had been alive.   To hear that and be able to meet their friends, drink coffee on their neighbours balcony in the shadow of their former home and experience Tighnabruaich at its glorious best, was hugely therapeutic for me.   It was now time to put the Kyles behind us and start our long passage back south before the weather deteriorated, as summer was well and truly over and the cold of autumn was starting to bite!