Author: josinjohn

So here we wait. Early start this morning, it is saturday already, in order to get here before ten o’clock, which we were told would be the next locking time down the staircase, but…… Got here at ten, to be informed that everything was delayed due to the swing bridge at the bottom being recalcitrant. Next locking, one o’clock. Ah well. Relax. Take morning coffee with scones and cream and jam at the Bistro. Take picture of Josin with Ben Nevis in the background. (The top was almost visible, for the first time!).

It has been a relaxing journey through the Canal. No sailing, as what wind there has been has been on the nose, and on rainy days we have been attached to a pontoon or somesuch. Urquhart Castle was the high point, on a beautiful, calm, sunny morning, before the hordes arrived.

Not so many boats as I had imagined, probably because the main holiday season has not yet started, which has meant not having to wait too long at the locks and bridges. Mostly hire boats, which are immediately identified by the multiple fenders hanging all round, from chains. The custom of taking in fenders when on the move is obviously over-ridden by the need to protect both boats and fixed property.

Hoping to get down to the sea lock at Carpach this afternoon, to leave the fresh waters and venture out into the wider salt water world of tides and currents tomorrow morning.

All’s well.

A perfect morning. Early tranquility. Blue sky. Bright sunshine. Birdsong. Breakfast. Putter round to the jetty at the castle, 8:30. Obviously made just for the passenger boats, thick mooring ropes permanently attached, no bollards or cleats. So we attached Josin to other things fairly solid and went to find somebody who could tell us when we ought to move. “About 9.30”. OK, so we can wander round til then? “Fine. We don’t open officially until then”. An enormous place, built in many stages depending who and when was King or Constable.  A new visitor center, not yet open, being built a short distance up the grassy slopes. Very well placarded with information, and we enjoyed having the place to ourselves for a contemplative hour. Eavesdropped one of the warden’s radio that there was consternation that someone had moored their sailboat where it shouldn’t, but he was able to calm things down. Yes, down to Josin, untie, back off, wait ten minutes for the trippers to disembark, catamaran disappear, then back again. Another, rather less tranquil wander until we had seen enough, thank the staff for a very well-kept place, who glady fibbed that the weather was always like this, took last pics and away, just as a Norwegian ketch arrived.

To Fort Augustus. 12:45. Long pontoons, many boats. Just room for Josin half way along in front of an encouraging Morning Star, last seen and accompanied in the first locks. Next locking? “Don’t know. Nobody knows”. So, a short walk into town. On the way, a bagpiper, in full regalia, squalking and wailing into the breeze, with partially-appreciative on-lookers. Big sign, with a clock-face. “Next locking”. Small hand pointing to just before 2. Big hand pointing to 6.  So how to interpret that?  Nobody to ask. To avoid missing out, interpreted that to be 1:30 and after a quick and unsuccessful search for a shop selling bread, (trinkets and souveneirs wall-to-wall), bought two tepid sausage rolls, sold out of anything else, ‘cos it was now after lunchtime, and went back, munching, to boat. Inactivity everywhere. Time went. 1:30 likewise. Must have meant 2:30. What? That means that the locks closed for lunch. What?. In the high season?  Ah well, this is Scotland, and we must acclimatise. (Some locks later we concluded that someone ought to take an educational trip to Sweden and go through the Gøta Canal, to learn a thing or two). A man did appear eventually, wearing a similar hat to those of the officials at Urquhart castle, tartan waistcoat plus a lifejacket. Must be an official, maritime, post lunch. Yes, he counted boats and took our names and lengths, and said he’d come back and let us know. Closer to 3, received the happy message that we were to be first into the lock on the starboard side. (Not quite comfortable about that in a queueing society). Three boats a side. Morning Star aft. Large hire boat opposite, quite dangerously incompetent in the swirling rushing waters. Five locks, well paused. Decided to let the hire boats go in front out of the way, and took up the puttering armada in the rear.

A few more locks and a swing bridge later and we were out in Loch Oich. Pretty. Less dominating. More pastural. Many sheep. One cow only, or was it a bull? Very hairy, very static. The friendly lock-keeper at the last lock recommended Castle Bay. “On the right. Mooring. Ten minutes. You can’t miss it”. More Scottish timekeeping? Must have used a fast powerboat. Eventually we almost missed it, idyllic, in amongst large and hanging trees, a pontoon, just big enough for two boats a side, one, non-hire motorboat, in residence. Approached to tie up in front. The enthusiastic helper on the pontoon took M’s baug-rope and hauled enthusiastically away. Bump. Thankyou, Well done. Kind of you. We’ll do the rest. By this time were quite ready for stop, food and sleep. It had been a tiring day, and the weather was closing in.

Thursday morning, awakened to rain, cloud down on the mountains almost to water level. Turn on heater. Snooze. Later, a sunday breakfast as it was still raining and we had decided to stay here for the day. Rain stops. On with walking shoes, Up the path the short distance to Invergarry Castle (remains). Impressive high walls shored up with solid beams between. Been there, done that. Back along the road, enormous trees, faded rhododenrons, (must be impressive in bloom), to Invergarry Castle Hotel. Quiet. Visitors book in the hall, almost all foreign names and adresses, but all enthusiastic comments. Chat receptionist. “No problem for guests to find us apparently”. Back along the grassy path to the boat. New visitorboats. Must be on their to-do list.

Sorry, the rest of the pics wouldn’t transfer, slow internet. Otherwise- All’s well.

First to go from the Seaport Marina was a Loch Ness Cruise Ship, of such dimensions that it occupied the whole four-lock staircase. We others had to wait. By the time we three boats, (plenty of room for more), had reached the top, we were just too late to reach the next hindrance, which was a swing bridge, before it had it’s one-hour lunch break. The German boat had a skipper who obviously enjoyed both giving orders to his crew, and complaining to the lock keeper. Poor Scottish, patient lock keeper. We found him most helpful and informative, but he got an earful in gebrokkent. After lunch we pottered along to that swing bridge, where the bridge crew were getting their dose too. At last, the bridge opened, and two boats went through before the bells rang and sirens went off, red light shone in the German’s face and the bridge shut abruptly. More German phrases. It was obvious to all others, patient to a boat, that there must be a reason, and sure enough, after a very short while, an ambulance and a police car went sirening and wailing  past at high speed. Longer pause. No more sirens, and we were on our way again. One more lock and we were at the level of Loch Ness, which opened up before our very eyes.

Large, very large, as far as the eye could see, (German boat in the lead). Tranquil. Notabreathof. Occasional light drizzle created action, rain clothes, but otherwise 6 kn motoring brought us steadily to Drumnadrochit, which has Urkhart castle with an amazing history of battles and changing sides. Small jetty, fully occupied by two cruise catamarans. Retire to a little harbour a bit further north. One sailing boat, from Ipswich, east England,

otherwise motor boats, suspiciously hire boats, of which we have been warned of their unpredictability. Facilities unfortunately out of order, large building works creating organised chaos, probably a boat house, and the only attraction was the main A82 road outside, with plenty of traffic roaring past at plenty of speed. Nowhere to walk. Back to boat.

Promise of better weather tomorrow. We would like that. Try to have a look at the Castle tomorrow morning before the hordes. After that, next stop Fort Augustus.

Alls well. 

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!

Good progress. Now 08:20. 135 nm n 22 hours. Plenty wind. Plenty waves y’day morning. Quiet night with 8-10 kt wind. Now 15-20kt on the staboard quarter, and 6-7kt boat speed. Overcast. Chilly, 12 deg. Best winter woolies. M slightly wobbly y’day when the waves were worst, now fine. Platform an impressive sight. Nobody waved back. 

Alls well

Sunshine and calm in the harbour, NW wind and waves at sea. Josin is almost close-hauled banging into the seas. Max speed. Wheeee, but not quire in the optimum direction. The wind is forecast to veer and reduce, which will be more comfortable. 

Josin in top condition, and the crew still smiling, even if the coffee in the thermomug has gone cold. 

All.s very well!

It had to happen sooner or later everybody said. When installing the new water tanks under the cockpit benches some years ago, there was only place the filler could go, and that was beside the filler for the fuel. Over the years the coloured paint sploges had worn off, but I knew which was which, didn’t I?

It was raining hard and blowing enough to make everything flap. I was busy plotting routes on the chartplotter and getting irritated because the movement of the boat was sufficient to make it difficult to hit the keys right, when M asked me to fill the empty water tank. Hurry, hurry, with raindrops on the specs, and about ten or more liters of water went into the fuel.

Early this morning, telephone. Any chance of expert help? (Same guy, Ronny, as on water pump), “Holiday times and too much to do. Maybe on wednesday”.  OK, thankyou. So, to shop, and buy suction pump, jerry cans, hoses and reels of paper towels. It took time, plenty of drips, two cans of mixture extracted, clean diesel fuel in the end. Cooker OK. Cabin heater OK. Engine OK. Good. Snooze.

Never again. Red paint on the fuel filler, blue on the water. You live and learn!

Planned departure is tomorrow morning, tuesday, when the forecast winds will have lessened and veered, and look good for the whole crossing, to Inverness.

Alls well

Near-gale force wind, straight up the harbour means Josin bobbs and dips. Heavy rain squalls now and again, so we stay indoors. Lazy sunday morning. English breakfast.

Margaret arrived, somewhat delayed, friday evening, but no luggage. Bother. Promised delivered tomorrow. Busses back to Egersund. Kiwi. Toothbrush etc.

Yesterday was a bit disastrous. I needed to investigate a water leak from the nether regions under the sink. Found. From the freshwater footpump. Margaret wandered into and around the town to have a look and to buy fresh rolls for lunch and fish from the fish stall for dinner. When she got back the foot pump was in pieces and no apparent problem. Reassemble with copious silicone. Test with pressure water from the hose. Still leaks. What now? Thinks. Might as well fill the fore water tank the while. Dismantle pump again. Microscopic inspection revealed a small split in a diaphragm, easily stretched. Telephone to Hovland boatparts. “No, I’m sorry, we’ve had one on the shelf for a year, but people buy electric pumps nowadays, don’t they? Sold it last thursday”. Electric galley pump? ” Yes, but the shop has just shut at two o’clock. Open again on monday, at seven. Have a good weekend”. If he only knew…..  

Attention being concentrated on the pump, I had forgotten the hose. Now, water likes to find it’s own way if allowed, and yes…. OMG! The floorboards were afloat! Energetic activity with the bilge pump. Turn off hose. Phew!

And then, a weak voice from M. “My bed is all wet”. Dudgeon. Deep. Rest of the day was spent drying things, with a little help from an intermittent drying wind, good help from the tumbler driers in the facilities, and fan heater in the forcastle. All dry in the end and M could move back into her quarters. Fish dinner followed by lots of strawberries and cream, and Alls Well again.

Studying all the available weather forecasts indicates that the winds will drop to something more sailable on tuesday morning, veering from west to north which will be good, followed by more veering to east, which should be even better. Long term looks good too. Hope the forecasters don’t change their minds.

Alls well, from Margaret and John.

The good news is that Margaret is scheduled to arrive today. I’ll be meeting her at Sola (Stavanger) airport later today.

The bad news is that it is a very grey day, raining intermittently, and forecast is for it to continue, so any St Hans parties will probably be indoors, and no traditional bonfires. We’ll see.

The other not so good news is that that fall I had a week ago was still causing rather more discomfort, knee and ribcage in my back, than I thought reasonable, so, on tuesday, I sought expert advice. Taxi to hospital. “No, not here, ring this number and you will be told where to go”. New taxi. The previous one had just disappeared. Other side of town. Stairs. Receptionist, welcoming. “Appointment? How urgent?” (How on earth does one answer that one?). I’ll wait until there is a possibility. “12 o’clock” Thankyou. Nice doctor, with an ultrasound apparatus, and together they confirmed that ribs were OK, just bruised. “Pain killers and rest, and in about two weeks you’ll be feeling better”. OK. Taxi back to the chemist for a larger supply, then back to boat.

Rest meant leaving Egersund’s sights and attractions for another occasion. Rest meant reading. Watching TV. Internet surfing. Five different weather forecasting sites, not in agreement, and not far enough into the future of course. Snoozing. A little boat-fettling. Fill up with fuel and water. More snoozing. Laundry, with nice new machines, but, until you put money in the slot, a blank instructions screen. I think I got it right, as both wash and almost dry were successful.

Also a visit to the Rescue Services ship “Christian Gerhard Jebsen”, tied up and waiting just across the harbour. Welcoming crew, bursting with information. The bridge an absolute nightmare for the uninitiated, of screens and apparatus and levers and switches. Came away with confidence that if one is in need, the Rescue Service is well equipped and highly competent. Also link to a website for weather. Look it up, “Westwind.ch”. Incredible. Maybe I can find what I need in the jungle of info.

Departure looks like monday evening or tuesday morning, after the latest front system has done its best. More weather info needed!

Otherwise…… Alls well.

I’ve been doing some editing, its a quiet, slightly foggy sunday :

My profile picture has been changed.

Address” josinjohnnorsk.wordpress.com” has now been turned into a domain name: “josinjohnnorsk.com”. Hope you can still find me there for my blogs in Norwegian.