It was a damp, grey, misty morning. Ian made porridge and toast and marmalade before reading one of our Round Britain Sailing books, while waiting for Ros to wake up.  Despite the persistent rain the Russian crews in the 5 yachts surrounding us ferried crews back and forth between boats – possibly a complicated Russian breakfast ritual.  We had intended to leave at 7:30 to catch the tides, but there was no wind.  By 9am Ian was bored of waiting for Ros to wake and decided to go it alone.  He got the boat ship shape – put things away, washed up and started the engine.  This woke Ros up– who gamely said she’d be ready to leave, but he had already slipped our mooring and was leaving the harbour before she appeared on deck.

True Blue, our mooring neighbour had left just before us – heading south.  As we left the harbour she was hardly visible in the mist but gave us a useful heading – she was all we could see until two porpoises passes us by travelling north. As we reached the open sea the wind freshened and we had some lively sailing on a port reach before the winds completely disappeared and we had to start the engine to motor sail – just as well, as when we reached Ardmore point there were massive overfalls.  The waves were so large that Ian was soon feeling sick.  Fortunately, the wind returned and with full sail and the engine revving away we could battle through these enormous waves.  Poor Milo, she was lurching this way and that.  We heard the entire contents of the galley go crashing to the floor as we rolled heavily to starboard.  Another time her bow went at least two feet under a huge wave which swept up the deck like a tsunami and nearly washed over the sprayhood, instead deflecting sideways and coming round the side into the cockpit soaking Ros who was sitting on the port side. We had to endure this for at least 20 minutes before we could bear away round the headland giving us a better lead into the waves, which were by now moderating.  There was also better visibility and a narrow brighter strip of light along the horizon suggesting better weather further south, but we never reached it.  A Caledonian MacBrayne Ferry showed us the way into Port Ellen harbour – I’d planned to sail between two of the islands, but, as it was rough and windy, caution won the day and we kept well clear of these islands and took the ferry way in.  We had to keep full sail into the shelter of the bay which involved a few hairy jibes on the way in.

We eventually berthed at midday in Port Ellen and Ros had soon booked us an evening meal at the local Islay Hotel, which had been full but chose to take us early at 5:30 if we could finish by 7:30pm.  When we arrived we could see why.  The table next to ours had 9-10 places each lovingly arranged with 4 hooded glasses of whiskey plus wine and water glasses. We learned later that this was an outing of the staff of Ardbeg Distillery who were celebrating the launch of a new whiskey.  Talking to the staff as they arrived we learned again of the three distilleries to the North of Port Ellen, and that only Ardbeg had a restaurant.

Table set at the Islay Hotel for the party from Ardbeg Distillery

After a lazy breakfast on board, we went ashore to find Jim of Islay Cycles – we were told it was behind the church, but we could not find his shop.  We telephoned and he gave us directions saying he’d meet us halfway – which he did and I was grateful for that, because it was not a shop at all but the back garden of his house on a modern estate. “This is the Hebrides” said Jim, when I told him I was looking for a shop, “ye have to make a living in any way ye can”.  He’d told me on the phone that he had an electric bike and Ros had said quite firmly to me that “she did not need an electric bike”, but when she saw it was a Raleigh/Bosch just like her new one at home, she was delighted as if it was her own bike magically transported to Islay, so off we set to visit the three distilleries along the recently opened new cycle path NE of Port Ellen.

Clockwise from top left: arriving at the Lagavulin Distillery, the Laphroaig Distillery, the Ardbeg Distillery and Ros passing the signpost near the Ardbeg Distillery which has the Corryvrecken 30 miles, Kildalton Cross 6 miles, Jigeadail 3 miles, Ardbeg 1/4 of a mile and a sign pointing upwards –  Supernova 12m light years

 There must be a lot of money in whiskey – the buildings are so beautiful and well maintained. We soon reached Ardbeg, had a coffee in the restaurant and learned that we were too late for the morning tours and the afternoon tours did not finish until 4pm when we’d planned to set sail for Gigha. So we decided to head on to that secluded beach Jim had mentioned and return for lunch and a table tasting.

Ros by the distillery at Ardbeg

The beach was amazing, the water was completely brown, so much so that your feet turn immediate orange as soon as you enter the water – the sand on the beach collected dark veins of peat between ridges of sand emphasising the beauty of the patterns.

The water at the beach at Ardilistry Bay was incredibly peaty – as you waded in your feet went orange and the sand had peat lined ridges

Returning to Ardbeg Distillery we had a lovely lunch followed by the tasting.  Ros tried a 10-year-old Ardbeg while Ian could not resist the Corryvrekken.  We bought a bottle of the 10 year Ardbeg. The Corryvrekkan was much peatier, which was to Ian’s taste, but also much more expensive.

The tasting of 10 year old Ardbeg by Ros and the Corryvreckan by Ian

Ros returned to Milo in time for sailing at 4:00pm across to Gigha – a four-hour trip, but Ian, determined to see the beaches on the west coast cycled further.  It tool longer  than he had anticipated and combined with trying to rescue a sheep which had strayed onto the road, he was late back.

Laggan Bay beaches NW of Port Ellen 

By 5.15 we were underway – Ros was worried it would be dark by the time we arrived and had checked that sunset was 8:50, but with a projected time of arrival at 9pm – we should be alright.  Heavy rainstorms threatened but by the time we’d reached Gigha and taken a zig-zaggy shortcut between the Islands of Gigha and Carra we were well on schedule and even had a glimpse of a sunset.

Leaving Islay late and arriving at Gigha as the sun was setting

We berthed on the south side of the pontoon at Ardminish Bay.  Unfortunately, there was no water or electricity and fuel was at the garage at the top of the hill, but to offset that the bay was beautiful and the Boathouse Restaurant very welcoming with the prospect of bacon butties and good coffee for breakfast and whole lobster the following evening.

 

So much has happened since we were last on Milo. We have spent two fantastic weeks at Eastcotte in Branscombe with all the grandchildren – finished and even slept in the treehouse.  Ros fully retired at the end of July and experienced the delights of the Edinburgh Festival with Hugh, Percy and Skye while Ian commuted to Brunel from Edinburgh to complete his final month at Brunel before retiring himself.

Andrew kindly drove us to Oban on a windy blustery day.  The Marina river taxi dropped us off at Milo on her mooring and we found her warm, dry and welcoming as the evening sun came out for us.

Leaving The Isle of Kerrera, Oban

On this trip we had decided to head south to explore Jura, Islay and the west coast of the Mull of Kintyre.  The next day we had a lazy start.  Ian worked out the tides too late to take advantage of them, but there was no wind so we slowly motored south while checking the tides through the Corryvreckan and the Dorus Mor.  Pure luck had us arriving at Dorus Mor as the tide changed, directly pushing us through at a real pace amid the swirling waters.

Passing the Corryvreckan with Jura in the distance

We picked up a mooring outside the entrance to the Crinan canal and  had a lovely meal on deck serenaded by the setting sun – warm, sunny and no wind – an unusual combination in Scotland – we felt privileged.

Sunset over Crinan with the sun looking remarkably like Saturn!

Next day we left early and with the wind in the SE were determined to sail all the way to Jura.  We started well and were soon able to turn the engine off and sail on a port reach between 6-7 knots with the tide, but after an hour the winds started to die to almost nothing – we managed 4 nautical miles in the next hour and a half.  Our water speed was hardly a knot, the tide must have accounted for the rest, but it was peaceful and the water was calm, so we were able to both see and hear all the wildlife around us.  We observed colonies of Razorbills, Kittiwakes and Guillemots.

Route from Oban to Craighouse and Kittiwakes by Milo when wind dropped

This peace was disrupted when the Chart Recorder started to cut out, with the message that the battery was low. We started the motor to charge the batteries and were OK for a while, but as we were running out of tide time we motor sailed the last few nautical miles before picking up a mooring in Craighouse. We took the dinghy ashore to the Jura hotel where we had a coffee in the bar and sat in the window with a view over the bay, charging our computers.  There was a distinctive painting in the bar of a mermaid on a barstool sipping a whiskey. In the painting none of the beer drinkers or musicians were taking any notice of her.

The mermaid at the bar in the Jura Hotel with Scots drinkers taking no notice.

Ian then went for a shower in the block adjacent to the hotel.  Someone was already in one of the showers, but their kit was everywhere outside and the dryer in the same room was whirring away.  Ian was just getting organised for his shower when “excuse me, can you open the door of the dryer when it is still going and then start it again?”.  He opened his shower and there in the doorway of her shower was a mermaid – or so he first thought without his glasses on – a long wavey haired lass clutching some clothes to hide her modesty, explaining that her towel was in the dryer.  “Have mine”, he said gallantly, but she preferred her own, so he opened the door of the dryer and was directed to an orange wrap. Problem solved.  After his shower he discovered that the Mermaid was Eleanor, a cyclist, not a sailor, who with Harrison her boyfriend had cycled from Glasgow and this was her first shower for a week – “wonderful” she said.  Later we met them in the bar and discovered that they were medics having a short career break.  Both had studied and met in Southampton, Eleanor was interested in becoming a paediatrician and Harrison an anaesthetist. They talked about their cycling experiences across Europe, they really love cycling.  They told us about the new cycle path linking three distilleries north of Port Ellen on Islay, the beautiful sandy beaches there and the bird sanctuary peninsular in the Southern part of the Island.

Eleanor, Harrison and Ros in deep conversation about education in the Jura Hotel

Ian had to wait quite a while to buy his round – there was a group of sailors ahead of him.  “Where have you sailed from” he asked.  “Russia” they replied, “err.. not all the way of course – we flew some of the way.  It turned out there was a very large group of them who had charted 5 yachts from Largs.  They were all part of some sailing association and raised red runners up their forestays.  They were a lively crew.

We returned to Milo for dinner, a scrumptious dish of sausages and cannellini beans.  Early, while in the pub, Ian had popped across to the Port Ellen Distilery shop and bought a bottle of Jura Superstition Malt whiskey that went down extremely well  after the meal.

Ian enjoying his Jura Superstition aboard Milo after a sumptuous meal by Ros