Stromness - Fair Isle

[Nick]

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Wednesday 16th June 2010-06-19

Finally we could see Graemsay and we accelerated down the sound on the two hour old flood reaching 11 knots over the ground before arriving in Stromness marina at 21.30 in mist and heavy drizzle. A couple from Connel on a MoBo gave us the gate and loo numbers (los and showers are in the ferry terminal but there is a back door) and we went off in search of chips but to late, so had a bag of crisps and a pint of Scapa in the Flattie Bar before returning to Fairwinds for a cheese on toast frenzy with a glass or two of wine.



Wednesday 16th June 2010-06-19

Mopped out the under bunk area only to have more apparently fresh water appear even after we had drained the water tank. Much bafflement until Kathy looked in the starboard cockpit locker and discovered that the 10l fresh water container I had filled at the last minute in Kinlochbervie now only contained five litres of water. Oh well, at least the under-bunk area was now as clean as it has ever been. We resolved to organise the space better, and Kathy eventually spotted the very thing – cat litter trays from the pet shop and internet café. Stromness is such a friendly, helpful place – they let us take one back to the boat to see if it fitted. It did, so Kathy returned for three more while I dealt with some business on the pet shop’s wireless connection and drank very good coffee. Other purchases included steak and sausages from the very excellent butcher e remembered from our previous visit – highly recommended.

After a general tidy-up and a shower for me we slipped our lines just after five in the afternoon and headed out into Hoy Sound in the middle of the ebb with a nice little wind over tide situation. We were expecting it this time though and fifty minutes later we were through the lumps and heading North under full sail with the Navik helming for the first time on this trip. We were only makin g 3-4 knots in the light Westerly under grey skies, but we were sailing and comfortable. Sadly within the hour the wind went light aqnd the sails began to slat and bang in the chop – so down they came and on went the engine again.

Shortly after eight we began to overhaul another yacht, the Eilean Dubh. She was also motoring, crossing our course heading in towards Eynhallow Sound. Shortly after crossing her track we saw that she had stopped and appeared to be hauling creels, so we went over to see if we could assist. She had a rope round her prop and enquired if we were heading for Kirkwall. I said no, Fair Isle, and they said they would just sail slowly round to Kirkwall. I have to say that I would not fancy braving the tides and rosts between them and Kirkwall under sail in light winds, but they were local and said they would be fine. If they had been more distressed we woujld have offered to tow them to Kirkwall, but she was aa much heavier boat and it would have been a major undertaking. We wished them luck and said our farewells, then only a few minutes after getting under way again we looked back to see them under way once more. A call on the VHF confirmed that the offending rope had mysteriously come free and all was well.

Next on the agenda was another attempt to sail as the wind went dead aft at six or seven knots apparent – still light, but maybe just enough to goosewing without the sails constantly slatting as we rolled. I worked up a good sweat setting and tweaking the pole, but after half an hour’s noisy sail-wearing and very slow progress the whole lot had to come down again. Just after ten we were motoring again, and at midnight we were off Noup Head (Westray) with one and a half knots of favourable tide.

Thursday 19th June 2010-06-19

An ominous reference to ‘Tide Rips’ and the fact that we now had 2.5-3 knots of tide essentially with us made me put in a big dogleg round the top of Pasa Westray, where a notorious ‘rost’ can develop. OOnce clear of the dubious area we turned onto 087T with the light on North Ronaldsay fineon the port bow flashing once every ten seconds. Kathy was snoring in her scrsatcher as we continued to make urapid progress with two or three knots of favourable tide. The wind picked up enogh to justify unrolling the genoa for an hour or so, and by four o’clock when Kathy came on watch we were still under engine and less than twenty miles from our waypoint off the S. point of Fair Isle. I had seen one ship in the four hours of my watch.

Once Kathy came on watch we finally lost the tide after nine or ten hours of having it with us, so I got a full three hours in my bunk, coming back on watch to find us at our waypoint. Navigating round the tide race off the S. of the island d by eye we were making over 45 degrees leeway and doing less than two knots over the ground. It was a grey misty morning with glimpses of land and the tops of the cliffs in the mist. Finally we cleared the tide rips off the rocks known as the Keels and began to make progress up the East coast of the island. The sun shone briefly aand weakly on the exposed flan k of Sheep Rock, where unlucky sheep were once hauled up to pasture on ropes from the local yoals. Soon we were rounding the North Gavel and heading past the Stane in to the narrow entrance of North Haven.

No less than six masts greeted us as we came in and we ended up rafted fourth yacht out ix beside a Danish boat which left an h0our later, leaving six boats in the harbour again – most planning on leaving in the morning on the forecast Northerlies to head South to Kirkwall. The latest forecast showed that we either left immediately to continue on to Lerwick or resigned ourselves to a few days on Fair Isle, as a period of strong Northerlies seemed inevitable. We decided to stay. It was only later when we got off the boat and wandered up that we discovered that the Bird Observatory – with the showers, bar and meals promised in the pilot – was not open yet. The old one had been demolished and a magnificent new building was almost complete but behind schedule, with the firm who built it having gone into receivership just the day before, leaving a few unpaid bills on the island. We walked a short way up the track leading North but gave up after coming under repeated attack from nesting bonxies.

Baack on board we ae and had just settled down to a game of crib and a dram when the Good Shepherd IV, the island ferry, came in fromSumburgh at about eight o’clock. She unloaded and then hauled out on her trolley on a railed slipway. It was a bit disturbing to see a vessel the size of a large trawler hauled out of the water because – as the skipper informed me – there was a ten foot swell expected. The skipper suggested we moved to the top of the harbour in the Good Shephers’s berth as it was the most sheltered, and of course that meant we would not be disturbed by our neighbours leaving in the morning. We borrowed three of the big fenders thoughtfully provided for visiting yachts lying alongside and snugged Fairwinds down for the night. Then North wind was getting up now but we had a reasonable night, completing our disturbed game of crib and having a couple more drams.


Friday 19th June 2010-06-19

In the morning a serious swell was entering the inlet and beginning to refract round the corner to where we were berthed. It was getting bouncy, but one of the Good Shepherd’s crew came by and offered us an extra heavy bow line attachyed to the breakwater opposite, saying that it would ‘take some of the bounce out’. He was right, it did. I also added a big orange ball fender and a couple of extra breast lines with snubbers.

Satisfied that the boat was secure for now we went for a walk round the South of the island. Near the village hall a couple of the island kids were playing on their bikes, dressed in their Summer finery – anoraks, woolly hats, heavy tights etc. The North wind was bitter, not so bad as we walked South with it at our backs but promising a challenge on the return journey. We walked down to the South Harbour where hauled out yoals live in special nests, like a smaller version of the Good Shepherd’s hidey hole. Crossing what must be the roughest ‘green’ on any golf course in Scotland we reached the Southernmost point at the South Light, Britain’s most bombed lighthouse and the last in the UK to be automated. Walking back it was good to see that most houses had a cultivated garden, wth several greenhouses and tunnels. One croft had hay drying on tripods. We stopped at the surprisingly well-stocked shop to buy something for tea and a bite for lunch and had a long chat with the shopkeeper, who also works on the island d power system – two vintage aerogenerators with diesel backup – among his other jobs..

Back on the boat it was spag bol and Yahtzee, interspersed with line checking and adjusting as the tide fell. I slept surprisingly well for a few hours in spite of snatching and squeaking and groaning. (And the ropes were making a noise as well).


Saturday 19th June 2010-06-19

Up checking lines etc at 4am and got an updated forecast including a gale warning for Fair Isle issued just after nine last night – F8, expected soon. Viking is F9, continuing - which ias where teh swell is coming from. I went for a four in the morning walk along the pier and rescued a floating fender that had escaped off the Danish boat. I also found another fishing boat fender and borrowed it.

The good news - from our point of view anyway - was that the Good Shepherd didn’t launch this morning so we didn’t have to vacate her berth. Just as well because at that time the swell was right up and the wind was gusting to maybe 40 knots, and I think that if we had tried to take the boat off the wall in this confined space it could have resulted in some damage.

We went for a short and extremely breezy walk in the morning on the cliffs above the harbour an d watched puffins flying in with beakfuls of sand eels for their chicks. We were marauded by clouds of arctic terns and divebombed by a pair of bonxies before retreating to the increasingly rocky boat for lunch. The surging, snatching and wall-bashing was starting to get alarming when the skipper of the Good Shepherd appeared and suggested we used their heavy stern line to attach our stern line to as a damper. It worked, and the situation appeared tenable again – for now at least.

The skipper of the Dutch Tradewind 35 came along to see if we were OK and told us that there was an ‘open afternoon’ for the locals to see round the new observatory. He seemed to think we would be welcome, so after a few more adjustments to lines we disembarked (itself not as easy as it sounds) and wandered up. I had to nip into the loos to remove my thermal underwear in order to avoid a meltdown, then we were shown round the place by Tim, one of the directors of FIBOT, and his wife. It really is a very impressive building, with superb facilities for visiting yachties including laundry, showers, bar and evening meals. Just a pity it is not opening until we leave . . .

Still, just as well we are here and not in Lerwick. We heard this afternoon that the swell caused havock in Lerwick last night with boats rafted six deep damaging each other and the lifeboat and pilot boat being called in to help sort out the chaos.

The Good Shepherd is launching tomorrow late morning. I hope the swell is down a bit by then, as I am not looking forward to moving the boat if it is still like this. The GS’ crew and the Dutch boat will be on hand to help though.

[ljs]

Jeez what's wrong with just circumnavigating Mull again?

PS While you're down there, can you buy me one of those Fair Isle sweaters...

[claymore]

Oooh you would luvly. Make sure to get him a sleeveless one with leather buttons up the front.

Big tart...

[Nick]

Jeez what's wrong with just circumnavigating Mull again?

PS While you're down there, can you buy me one of those Fair Isle sweaters...

Too late - we have just arrived in Lerwick. And it is Up Here, not Down There . . .

Feel free to use our mooring btw - just liase with Silkie first in case he wants to.

[claymore]

It will be 'down' to the Sadler on account of his indecent height.