Wooosh! The last wave surfed us through the narrow, but very well marked, entrance to Lossiemouth harbour, Josin almost being swerved into the harbour wall, and we were in calm waters. Phew! Harbourmastertelephonelady said to turn sharp port, we did, and there were four other boats in the visitors harbour, well strung out to leave a just-not-big-enough space, but lo!, there was a bit of pontoon right at the end, just waiting for Josin. Fenders and ropes, while trying to manoeuver in the narrow space, being blown by the wind, and everything very wet in the refreshing rain, a final gentle thump, and we were there. High fives!
The euphoria was somewhat damped by the conditions, and our wetness, but tangible nevertheless.
Stats say 315 nautical miles in 54 hours, which my calculator says means 5,8 knots average speed. 5,8 ??!! Incredible. The original plan was to go all the way to Inverness, but with that rate of progress we would have got there in the middle of the night, so plan B, Lossiemouth was implemented. The rough conditions contributed to a no-brainer decision.
To begin at the beginning, (quoting Dylan Thomas), it was day, glorious day, the sun was shining, gulls wheeling, ducks swimming, mainsail hoisting leaving calm Egersund with a promising forecast of NW winds, 15 knots, veering northerly. What could be better? Out of the harbour and out through the islands, roll out the jib and engine off, and we really were off. Close reach at hull speed in a rather choppy sea, autopilot Rorbert doing his thing, and what else to do than trim the sails a last time and admire the view. The forecast veering of the wind happened gradually, but the forecast wind strength didn’t, it increased. Ah well, a bit more speed, but more heel. Difficult to sit downhill in the cockpit. The movement upset M, who was a bit wobbly for a while, but recovery was rapid. No problem later on, even though the conditions worsened.
Lunch, fresh rolls filled imaginatively by M, and coffee, came and went, and we were making perfect progress to our first way-, and decision-, point. More southerly, or more northerly route? Last look at the forecast with a dying signal. Weather was shown as a bit kindlier for the northerly one. Route planning had been much influenced by where all these oil and gas installations, and their attendant safety zones and supply boats, are. So, the northerly route. Instructions to Rorbert, trim the sails, and Sleipner A, here we come!
Sunset was strange, with broken, red-edged, low clouds restricting sight to just the horizon, all afire. Forgot to take what would have been a good picture for this blog. Bother, sorry!. The night was calm, with an 8 to 10 knot breeze wafting us along admirably in the swell. We took turns to stay awake. With nothing to see or do, that was not easy. Only thing was dolphins at dawn for M, a whole flock, who played with Josin for a while before vanishing as suddenly as they had come.
Wednesday, a long day. Weather very gradually deteriorating, high cloud creeping over, confirming the low approaching from the south, but rather earlier than forecast. Wind gradually increasing, veering more to the NE, which meant broad reach sailing gradually turning into running over the quarter, and there it stayed for the rest of the trip.
Sleipner “A” complex, threaded without problems of course, in the rather poor visibility in the late afternoon, providing both VHF and a weak internet signal, so a quick message got sent before Sleipner and the signal disappeared into the mist.
The rest of the trip will NOT be remembered as one of the more pleasant sailing experiences. The wind blew, an even 20 knots, then 25, with gusts over 30. Waves building accordingly. Jib rolled in. One reef. Then two. Then roll and pitch and whizz along at high speed. Rorbert functioned admirably, must write to Raymarine and tell them that in updated form, he managed even those extremely demanding conditions. (He had to work very hard though!). Then the rain came, intermittently at first. M had a bright idea. It was to put up the cockpit cover, on the aft and the windy sides. Never done that before when on the move, and after a bit of a flapping struggle, it was done. Amazing change in the comfort level. Well done Margaret! Sensible lass. The cover remained in place until close to Lossiemouth, when the mainsail had to come down and to be able to navigate properly. We then soon both got quite wet, both from the rain and from the spray from the seas.
When in telephone range, rang the Lossiemouth harbourmaster, answered by a charming Scots lady (Amanda), telling us to turn sharp to port when we were inside the entrance, and, being told that we would be there just before 4, said she’d be there to meet us. Well, she wasn’t, because we had omitted to change our time. She arrived later with a warm but “wet welcome to an exceptional Scottish summer’s day”, and a wet envelope containing useful info and a key to the gate.
Lossiemouth harbour entrance is very well marked, with white-painted ends of the jetties visible in the mist and spray from a goodly distance. (Accurate GPS is a boon!). Choose your wave, full speed ahead, and surf your way in.
Amanda was most forthcoming with info, including where to find the Fish & Chip shop, as we both reckoned that they were a must, instead of the carefully-in-Egersund-prepared passage food, half of which not yet consumed. We walked, for the exercise we agreed, up the hill in the rain, cowering into the row of houses on the lee side of the road, all expectant for the aroma of frying. What! Not open yet? So, into the Coop opposite to ask. It was then we discovered our time-lapse. Then back to the boat, M to start the drying-out process and I back to the F & C. No queue, I being number two. Do you have any flat fish? “No, just haddock, breaded or battered”. There it was on the wall menu, of countless other things than fish. Haddock, top of the list. So I chose one of each sort of jacket, and one medium chips. (Next time choose small!). Very well wrapped in dull-coloured thick paper, not in newspaper, that was long since, and back to Josin and a waiting M with table laid, candle lit, all hungry both. Me with another set of wet clothes. (This Scottish , wind-whipped horizontal rain gets through everything). Pyjamas were dry-ish luckily. Don’t think F & C have ever tasted better, still lovely and hot. Enough for two meals, for lunch tomorrow maybe. Wash up tomorrow? Yes! Crash and sleep. M slept thirteen hours. I ten. We must have been tired! But not, I can confirm, not weary to un-intelligence. Today a much-enjoyed shower and then English breakfast, washing up and tidying a bit, clothes hanging everywhere, then relax with more coffee and, for me, this blog.
It has been an interesting and educational trip. Everything has functioned as it should, except maybe for some unknown and more-persistent leak-paths, and robust Josin and all her equipment no problems at all. Could do it again, but do not really want to!. Lesson one, re-learned: Weather forecasts can be inaccurate, both on timing and degree.
Stay here today, it is still blowing, but a brighter forecaast for tomorrow, when we will continue to Inverness. Neighbour boat says we may well be lucky to experience the dolfins on a rising tide in the narrows. Hope so!
Alls well!
Josin's 2025 cruise 