Sunday June 30

Sometime in the dark the skipper heard a boat come in, it didn’t disturb my slumber one jot. It was anchored very close off our stern but the wind has gone completely for the first time since we left Bangor. The water was mirror smooth. Slowly most of the boats departed. Our very near neighbour among them. He explained before he raised his anchor that most of the boats were either charter boats on their way back to base on a Friday night or on their first night out of Oban on a Saturday night. The rest of the week the place is quiet.

We launched the dinghy and headed ashore., the early morning blue skies were ominously clouding over. There was an adventure to be had the other side of Seil Island to the east of the anchorage. The well trodden path lead over the hill (the highest point in Seil Island is 83m and this wasn’t it), then down amongst the trees to Tigh an Truish. This was reputedly the place where the Scots exchanged their banned kilts for trousers before venturing further onto the mainland. The pub doesn’t open its doors til noon and wasn’t our goal. This morning we intended to cross the Atlantic! In fact we crossed it twice on foot, stopping to look at the rare fairy foxgloves which grow on the Clachan Bridge but sadly were past their best now.

After our gentle crossings we strolled through the village in search of views across the Sound of Clachan before retracing our steps back to the dinghy. Further along the western islands’ shore, towards the top of Eileann nam Beathach, were seals, several with their young pups beside them. They lifted their heads warily as the dinghy approached, we hurried away again so as not to disturb. A brief but rather wet trip then took us to the top of Clachan Sound for a quick glimpse of the distant bridge. The tide was swilling in and threatened to carry us south with it, the narrow sound is very shallow and there’s also a lot of long thin weed lying in wait for an outboard propeller plus we didn’t fancy a trip back around the outside. Back on Temptress the cloud cleared and for an hour or two we had warm sunshine. Just four boats are left, the only noises the squeaky oystercatchers and the occasional snort of a surfacing seal. A heron stalks the bank, peering intently into the seaweed fringe of the islands.