Plans for cruises are written in the sands at low water. For weeks skipper and naviguesser had been discussing where to go for our summer cruise. The general area was obvious, The West of Scotland, the specifics less so. Somewhere new, a return to places explored eleven years ago prior to our circumnavigation? Could we reach the Shetlands or even the Faroes in the short time available? Eventually personal circumstances intervened when employment ended for the skipper and work on our kitchen refurbishment reached a hiatus.

Suddenly we had a three week period to occupy. The Outer Hebrides seemed like a target to aim for. Kevin had never been and I only dimly recalled a work trip to the Western Isles District Council some forty years ago and then really only the excitement of landing on a scheduled flight on the beach.

Friday 21 June the pair of us visited Todd’s to add to our collection of Imray charts, it might cover most of the Caribbean and European waters but numbers 65, 66 and 67 would be needed. The boat library has all the Clyde Cruising Club Pilots thanks to many winter hours reading about places to sail. We also had to purchase yet another replacement Windex or Hawk for the masthead as the current one has been destroyed by the Bangor crows or gulls ( we think Bosun Bob pays them). The start of our cruise was celebrated by dining at RUYC.

Saturday dawned chilly and grey. It was tempting to remain in the Lough to watch the Red Arrows display but there was a tide to catch. We piled on the thermals, mid layers, outer layers and woolly hats, reminding ourselves that yes this is mid-summer. After a pit stop at the fuel pontoon Temptress was ready to go. At 10am on the dot as planned, we motored out pausing only to hoist the mainsail and headed northwards.

The winds were light, a F3 from the south west. The jib was unfurled and the boat sailed slowly towards Blackhead until the tide caught us and added a knot or two to our speed. Lunch was an easy one, Cornish pasties reheated in the oven. Temptress slowed as the wind dropped from its peak of a F4 to a gentle southerly F2. Wanting to make the tide around the top of Rathlin we opted to furl the genoa and motor. By quarter to five we were motoring through Rathlin Sound, having realised the tide was perfect for this change of course. Puffins, gillimots, razorbills, dolphins and seals were our reward.

The big ocean swell beyond was a delight and the wind came back too. Through the early evening all seemed well. I rustled up a supper from the chicken legs supplied by our local butcher, an onion, garlic, tomato purée and a few spoons of black pepper sauce with a best before date of 2020 (probably on board since we departed Singapore in 2019) supplemented with a few mushrooms and served with rice and peas.

At 20:00 I took the first off watch only to be called back on deck 30 minutes later to help furl some of the genoa. An earlier mizzle had turned to unpleasant rain and the wind was veering more west as it picked up. The skipper dropped in the second reef unaided, I got out of my aft bunk yet again to see why and check the course. The wind was now at the top end of a F4 and north of west. Temptress was barely going to clear the rocks south of Tiree let alone the Blackstones further west. It was miserably cold, tacking didn’t seem like an inviting option, nor did a night avoiding unfamiliar obstacles. I checked the nav and suggested we bore away to Port Ellen on Islay. Yes it’s a bit behind us but it’s sheltered and we don’t need to prove anything to anyone by reaching Vatersay Bay within 24 or so hours of departing Bangor. The skipper responded that those were his thoughts too.

It was half past nine in the evening, the sun had yet to set (not that we’d seen much of it all day). Temptress altered course north east and I quickly redid the nav using existing waypoints. Within thirty minutes Temptress had sailed ahead of the incoming weather and was motoring again! You just can’t win but at least the rain had stopped. By half eleven that evening we’d dropped the hook in Kilnaughton Bay, one of just two boats there. It was snug and calm if chilly. With it still daylight we treated ourselves to a nightcap or two, finally tumbling into our bunk at gone one on Sunday morning. Eighty four nautical miles in thirteen and a half hours thanks to the spring tidal assistance in the North Channel which had seen Temptress bowling along at 10 knots at times. What of tomorrow?