My first mistake when locking through the sea lock into the Crinan Canal at Ardrishaig, was to say “we are in no hurry”. Mooring in the basin inside the lock, we waited while two yachts exited and two more locked in and promptly rafted alongside Hejira. We were then trapped and the two yachts outside us took the only two places in the next lock into the canal while we continued to wait – such is life, I guess.

The Crinan Canal opened in 1801 and was built to provide a shortcut for trading vessels plying between the Clyde and the west coast. It is only 9 miles long but there are 15 locks and 7 bridges and it cuts across the top of the Kintyre peninsula avoiding the 100-mile detour around the Mull. It is now predominantly used by pleasure craft.

We had been joined by Paul and Mary who moved from Ascot back to Mary’s family farm at the head of Loch Craignish. They were with Steve and Simone who were visiting and I knew them all from Ascot. Paul and Mary had transited the Crinan with me ten years before when I only had one crew and their help with the locks had been invaluable – now we had 8 on board! Previously the locks had all been DIY manual arrangements, now, many of the gates have been replaced and they are largely mechanised and ‘manned’ – can we still use that expression? This no doubt helps to justify the £550 fee for a 12-day licence for both the Crinan and Caledonian Canals.

We stopped for a picnic lunch on board just before the summit but then had to press on to get to the end of the canal at Crinan before the 5 o’clock curfew and we just made the final bridge in time. Had we not achieved the deadline, our visitors would have had a long walk to their car parked at the Crinan sea lock.

A strenuous circular walk through the woods the next morning offered some exercise and stunning views.

We then locked into the Crinan Basin and out through the sea lock which, judging by the state of the walls, has been well used and abused over the years.

Back into salt water we motored up to Ardfern Marina at the top of Loch Craignish. Here, the clarity of the water revealed that the hull had picked up quite a bit of ‘fouling’ which probably explained our reduced speed and under-reading log. Leaning over the side of the pontoon (painfully bruising my ribs in the process) and reaching down with a sponge showed that it just wiped away but our yacht speed had been insufficient to wash it off on passage, which is what is supposed to happen with this new ‘Silic’ treatment. This is really disappointing given the effort and expense in changing to this ‘revolutionary’, and much praised antifouling.

Paul picked us up from the Galley of Lorne pub and drove us to their wonderful house on the farm where we had a lovely meal with them all and yarned and drunk to excess.

Amanda, having been abstemious all evening, drove us back to the marina in Paul’s car where we left it for him to retrieve in the morning – what a star!

Our passage to Kerrera Island marina opposite Oban took us through the notorious Dorus Mor tidal gate and we flushed through amongst the whirlpools. Our attempts at sailing were again thwarted by the fickle wind and we pressed on under engine before the tide turned against us.

The Kerrera marina is very convenient in transit but with the complimentary ferry service across to Oban only operating every two hours and having just missed one, we chose to stay put and had a long walk instead. Part of the walk passed close to a herd of Highland longhorn cows and at least one had a ring through its nose. This induced certain members of the party to hug the perimeter of the field in trepidation.

Being bothered by the fouling situation, I donned a wet suit, and rigged my diving gear to take to the freezing water. Unlike at Ardfern, the water was murky, but it was clear enough to see that the fouling was much worse than expected.

Using a sponge, it cleared very easily and I cleared around the log impeller and as much of the hull as I could before the cold took its toll and I returned on board, shivering, to the welcoming embrace of a hot shower and a cup of Bovril.

At least, my efforts resulted in the log speed more closely matching the SOG (speed over the ground) as we motored up to the sea lock and into the Caledonian Canal at Corpach, next to Fort William and Ben Nevis.

The Caledonian Canal was built between 1803 and 1822 to offer shipping a shortcut across Scotland as an alternative to the hazardous Pentland Firth. It is along the route of the Great Glen and links Loch Lochy, Loch Oich and Loch Ness with 22 miles of man made canals. Overall, it is 60 miles long and has 29 locks.

We were promised that after an overnight in the sea lock basin, we would be in a convoy of yachts, and a fishing boat, ascending the Neptune’s Staircase series of locks at 08.00 in the morning. In theory, this could have worked out and we had our positioning instructions so we would all fit in the locks. The reality was that the lock was rammed full, with the yachts on top of each other and particularly those at the front were in the turbulent water from the gate sluice openings as we flooded up. After the Norwegian yacht in front of us slewed sideways and bashed the lock wall at great force,  damaging his bow, the next lock was flooded so cautiously that it would have taken all day to transit the flight. The operators decided to split the convoy into two vessels proceeding, then our three following in the next locking . This meant that there was more room, and the locks could be flooded more aggressively. The policy worked and we eventually emerged, but after over 4 hours.

It rained throughout the ascent and there was little to savour from the experience.

Stopping for the night at the Laggan locks at the end of Loch Lochy, we moored opposite the Eagle Barge Inn and enjoyed afternoon drinks, then an excellent bar meal in the evening.

It was an eclectic and welcoming venue, blessed by the most stunning scenery.

Rented pleasure cruisers seem to be focussed around Fort Augustus at the staircase of 5 locks and, coupled with the number of yachts transiting the canal, this put pressure on mooring space. With many of the rental cruisers having incompetent crews, we watched the carnage, roving fenders in hand, wincing as they bounced off other vessels and docks.

After waiting for two lockfuls to ascend, one of them full of six rented cruisers, transiting at  a snail’s pace, 4 of us (yachts) finally descended the series of 5 locks and moored up for the night at the end of Loch Ness. Inevitably we made extensive use of the Bothy pub which, unusually for Scotland, served very acceptable beer.

What a treat, with a light south westerly wind, we were able to sail the 20-mile length of Loch Ness with jib alone at a serene pace in intermittent sunshine and warmth that did not necessitate layers of clothing and a coat.

The most pleasant day so far !

I should confess that I have not covered myself in glory on the restaurant front. Booking a couple of days in advance failed to secure a ‘fine dining’ table in the Eagle Barge and we had to content ourselves with a bar meal, literally sat at the bar. And so it was that I had been singing the praises of a restaurant in Dochgarroch which had impressed me ten years previously, partly because it was a ‘bring your own booze’ establishment. At my suggestion, we planned to take our evening meal there after the Loch Ness passage. When we arrived at the Lock, we learnt from the lock keeper that the restaurant had closed some time ago, so you can imagine my embarrassment – again. Thankfully, Richard rustled up a more than acceptable meal.

Moored just outside the Lock to fill our water tanks, we were adjacent to a patch of grass used for camping. We met Paul and Ishbel who were canoeing the length of the canal and it was going to take them just 3 days! They portage past the locks and there has been a tail wind but, even so, to my mind, this was some feat.

Paul, at 76 has cycled six times across his native Australia and is a real adventurer. They were very grateful for the tea and coffee we made them in the morning before they paddled off on their final leg.

We were held up at the top of the final flight of locks at Muirtown while the lock keepers lifted a convoy of yachts and then had their lunch. This gave us the opportunity to walk to the Seaport Office and organise a diesel fill, berth allocation and an extension to the canal licence so we can leave Hejira safely in the fresh water marina.

Many thanks to Paula, Amanda and Richard for being such good humoured, tolerant, patient and competent crew, we have had a memorable and enjoyable time!

We are taking the train back home to see our son, Oliver, his wife, Gini and baby Juno before their departure to America where they are going to live for the next two years.

The adventure starts again in July when we return and, hopefully explore more of the open sea.

Richard and Amanda write:-

Amanda and I have been incredibly privileged to be able to sail with Nick and Paula on their wonderful yacht Hejira.

We joined Hejira in Dun Loghaire where we enjoyed the ‘Forty Foot’ (the local Weatherspoons  and Nicks local), met an Angel and had a challenging walk. When we sailed, we saw Dublin and Belfast for the first time, crossed the Irish Sea to Campbeltown, then Lochranza, around to Rothesay, through the Kyles of Bute to Portavadie, then the Crinan Canal to Ardfern, shot the turbulent Dorus Mor, past the Corryvreckan to Kerrera Island (opposite Oban), along Loch Linnhe and into the Caledonian Canal, through Loch Lochy, Loch Oich and Loch Ness to Inverness. Wow, what an adventure!

We enjoyed wildlife in abundance with Dolphins, Porpoises, and a myriad of seabirds. We had had an amazing dinner in the company of Mary, Paul, Simone and Steve; at Mary and Pauls incredible contemporary house, with unbelievable views over Loch Craignish, and surrounding countryside and hills.

The weather has been, well Scottish with a mixture of sunshine, showers and Scotch mist! We have been alternately warm, freezing, soaking wet with no wind, too much wind and head winds! We have also had some amazing sails; including the whole length of Loch Ness with a following breeze all day.

The most notable things for us were the friendliness of the locals, (even post football), the incredible scenery and the lock keepers, who have been great. Downsides include the lack of alcohol (that’s a complete lie) and Nick’s inability to book restaurants! Joking aside, it has been an amazing experience and great fun.

After the trials of gaining access to the Newry canal, it is ironic that the weather rendered it all a waste of time as we had to kick our heels in Dun Laoghaire for two days, waiting for a break in the persistent northerly winds. Unfortunately, the time lost meant we didn’t have the time in hand to indulge ourselves at the top of Carlingford Lough. With only one day of moderated wind before the weather closed in again; it was decided to make the 115-mile passage straight to Belfast and sit out the next blow there.

Intending to moor in the Abercorn Basin in the heart of Belfast, a call to the Belfast Harbour authorities informed us that it was closed due to storm damage, so we turned and made for Bangor marina instead. The wind and rain descended the following day, but it did not prevent a train trip into Belfast for the excellent, re-vamped, Titanic exhibition. We took the hop-on hop-off bus which toured the areas of sectarian violence, pointing out the barriers, murals, and the scenes of various bombings. The ‘troubles’ have perversely, become something of a tourist attraction!

Sadly, the passage to Scotland the following day was made in drizzle and poor visibility. It was again undertaken under engine with only the slightest sail assistance. I am actually coming to terms with all this running of the engine on the basis that it will reduce the diesel in the starboard diesel tank which continues to seep its contents into the bilge.  Campbeltown, near the southern tip of the Mull of Kintyre was considered an ideal destination at the end of the 50-mile passage across the exposed North Channel. I had previously visited Campbeltown nearly 30 years ago and my abiding memory is of a local anti-drugs campaign called ‘reef not’ and they distributed brass lapel badges of a reef knot… It is a charming isolated rural town and the locals are welcoming. It was a surprise to see another Southerly 135 on the adjacent pontoon as only 30 were made and this one was all the way from America. It happened to be the start of the European football championships and Scotland were to play Germany after the opening ceremony. We went for a pint in the afternoon and the locals were already warming up for it in liquid fashion, as they do. Thankfully, we watched the game on board as Scotland lost 5-1.

We woke the next morning to torrential rain, but the day soon brightened and with very little wind, we motored to Loch Ranza, at the top of the Isle of Arran, for lunch on board.

Pressing on  to Rothesay, we secured a cosy berth, in the inner harbour. Rothesay is something of a Victorian jewel and used to be the destination for holidaying Glaswegians who went ‘doon the waater to Rossy’ on the steamers for their annual holiday. There must have been a lot of them because the well preserved and quite beautiful (I didn’t think I would ever say that about urinals) public toilet facilities were extensive.

Dashing out of our very tight berth to make the infrequent bridge opening time, we motored to the Burnt Islands then had a very pleasant and relaxed sail down West Kyle to eventually moor in Portavadie on Loch Fyne.

I know the diesel in the bilge issue is keeping the readership awake, all three of you, so I am happy to report that, with the starboard tank half empty, the problem seems to have gone away. Our passages have been fairly benign, so the jury is still out, pending a bit of bouncing about…

Richard writes:-

Nick can really pick ‘em! After a tortuous scramble to the top of Bray Head Cross, above the town of Bray, somewhere South of Dublin, Nick spied a chap prostrating himself at the foot of the cross and asked, “Can we still get to Greystones on the coastal path from here?”, parts of which have been closed due to landslides. “Yes, and I will be your guide”, said the man, meaning of course to a life of religious enlightenment! Being an upright Englishman of good standing and impeccable manners, Nick agreed to be guided!

Well, the path to enlightenment is not easy. It doesn’t follow the normal routes and leads you through fences, down the most precarious, precipitous cliff faces so, if we didn’t believe in our maker at the beginning, we certainly did by the end!

But Amanda and I were saved, hallelujah! In the end, Nick told him, very politely of course, to bugger off.

Visions of being murdered and thrown off a cliff, slowly subsided, helped by a couple of pints in the Beach House Pub. However, on the train home, our angel re-appeared! Now he had us cornered, and preached to us about ‘eagles wings’, dealing drugs in gangland London and doing time at Her Majesty’s pleasure, before he ‘saw the light’.

The wildlife has perhaps been a little bit scarce so far although we have seen dolphins and a large variety of seabirds but in Campbelltown a fishing boat was dealing with its catch and sluicing the bits out of the scuppers. A huge flock of seagulls had gathered but suddenly a couple of seals appeared and stayed with us for a couple of hours. Wonderful.

On Saturday we arrived at Rothesay, a very pretty Victorian port on the Island of Bute. The approach to the outer harbour looks simple enough but we were aiming for the inner harbour, guarded by a lifting bridge. When the bridge lifted, we aimed for the narrow entrance, unaware that there were slightly submerged concrete ledges that were only visible as you were almost on top of them.

Going in was therefore quite difficult but leaving the next day was very, very tricky. Luckily our skipper had an amazing crew that saw him through this potential crisis.

This evening, we are in Portavadie, ready for the Crinan Canal tomorrow. This is a very smart, modern marina, which includes a number of holiday lodges, apartments and, apparently, a treehouse. The men’s showers even have hair straighteners! Needless to say, Nick has made full use of the facilities.

Adventure posts will follow next, but this is largely another ‘frustration’ missive – Aaagh!

So, returning to Dun Laoghaire for some intermediate Hejira TLC, (and grandchildren cuddles), I arrived at the marina in torrential rain, not unusual in Dublin. The rain had caused a power cut in the marina, so I felt it was an opportunity to run the generator for an extended period to recharge the batteries. After a couple of hours of seamless generator action, I was ready to repair to ZiQi, my favoured local Chinese restaurant. I shut down the generator, hoping the electrics would be restored by my return. Not expecting any issues, I was very disappointed on my return to encounter the smell of diesel – AGAIN ! Closer examination showed that the tissue that I had wrapped around the tank top terminals, as a ‘tell-tale’ following the previous issues, was again soaked in diesel and the bilge awash. It transpired that, following the refit, the tank valves had been positioned to supply the generator from the port tank, and return the excess diesel fuel to the full starboard tank, I guess I should have checked. This pressurised the full stbd. tank but it should not have induced a leak as the overfill should just have vented over the stern overflow. There was clearly another leak at the top of the tank.

I booked another flight back to review the issue.

A week or so later, on my return, I discovered that the fuel level gauge boss was loose with a ‘buggered’ thread which the engineer must have known about because he had tried, badly and unsuccessfully to overcome the problem with Sikaflex sealant.

Cleaning and clearing the threads, serving with PTFE tape, gasket sealant and carefully not overtightening, should, I felt, have addressed the problem and after assiduously cleaning the bilges, again, I repaired to the Weatherspoon’s, confident that the issue had been sorted. All the top terminals were now sealed and not under pressure while moored and horizontal.

On my return from the ‘spoons’, I was really, really, disappointed to see a witness of diesel in the bilge again, after less than an hour!

Was this just retained remnants finding their way into the bilge or a problem below the top terminals?

Cleaning the bilge, AGAIN, I was resigned to the seep into the bilge in the morning, and so it was. So, there was clearly another leak problem.

During the refit and while the tanks were removed, I had the tank manufacturers, TekTanks, seal the unnecessary drain plugs in both diesel tanks, so I could be confident that there were no penetrations below the top of the tanks. So, either their sealing had not been successful, or the ‘engineer’ who installed the tanks has, somehow, put a hole in the tank when re-fitting it, maybe a screw in the wrong place…?

Returning to Dublin just over a week later to prepare for the imminent Scotland ‘adventure’, I didn’t know what to expect and I tentatively viewed the bilge with trepidation. Imagine my relief that, rather than a bilge flooded with diesel, all I encountered was about a thimbleful.

This was thoroughly cleaned and deodorised before my crew, Richard and his wife Amanda arrived the next day.

As an expediency, I will continue to draw down from the starboard tank, hoping I can lower the level below the source of the leak, wherever it is. With 250 litres in each tank, and with no exceptionally long passages planned, I should be able to balance the trim with the water tanks and, despite a bit of a smell, it should, hopefully, have minimal detrimental impact on the planned cruise around Scotland. Fingers crossed!

In the meantime, planning for the passages north have been ongoing. It is intended that this will ‘kick off’ with a 50-mile leg up to Carlingford. This Lough delineates the border between North and Southern Ireland. At the head of the Lough is Warrenpoint and the entrance to the Newry Ship Canal. This canal is rarely used by yachts, or ships, and there are plans for a road bridge to span the canal which will render the passage by yachts with fixed masts impossible. So, this may be one of the last opportunities to make the passage, a compelling reason to do it! Numerous Emails and phone calls could not elicit any meaningful response as to how to facilitate the passage and I could not be blamed for thinking that there may be a conspiracy to suppress the number of yachts making the transit to help justify its effective closure. However, persistence seems to have paid off and I have finally managed to make contact with a very helpful lady at the Council who sent application forms just inside the 72 hour notice period deadline. It is now looking promising!

The weather forecast for the passage to Carlingford Lough is not encouraging but, fingers crossed.

Updates will be posted, – I bet you can’t wait…