We were a motley bunch, the crew of yacht Flamingo. Jason a policeman,
John a surgeon, Jim a radio engineer and myself a farmer, all doing
Day Skipper, and then there was Pete, our instructor, whose long and
varied life had encompassed most of our individual skills and more.
We were ready for anything the Clyde could throw at us, or so we thought.
This illusion was soon shattered on the first afternoon as we set forth
out of Largs. We had managed to extricate ourselves from the marina
into the Clyde without hitting anything or anybody - this was rather
to our amazement after a hefty briefing from Pete as to how the wind
was blowing too strong in all the wrong directions for our departure.
We then learnt our first lesson of the week - that a good sense of smell
is a must for any would-be sailor. A whiff of hot engine was first sniffed
by John (obviously an attribute acquired whilst slaving over overheating
patients). The engine was stopped immediately and a consultation between
John, Jason and Pete ensued as to what to do next. Jim and I were told
to sail up and down the Clyde ("and for God's sake don't hit anything")
whilst John and Jason proceeded to undertake an investigation of the
engine, ably assisted by Pete. A broken water pump impeller was soon
diagnosed and a return to Largs for repair was inevitable. A visit from
the resident engineer in Largs soon had the engine running smooth and
sweet, ready for the next days adventure.
Many skills were learnt and hopefully honed over the next few days,
from man overboard recovery to mooring up to buoys in beautiful lonely
bays, inflating, launching and going ashore in the yacht's dinghy (and
more importantly navigating back in the pitch dark), coming alongside
and casting off from jetties, and navigating in poor visibility using
contour lines.
For me, though, the highlight of the week was night sailing. We had
planned to leave Rothesay at 10.00 pm on the second last day for our
night sail, but high winds and heavy seas meant our departure had to
be postponed. It was still blowing a force six when we finally set sail
at 2.00 am the following morning. Our course was to take us out of Rothesay,
up the Clyde into Loch Long and finally into Loch Goil. I found it fascinating
to navigate in the dark by just using flashing buoys, preplanned courses
to steer and time. We finally arrived in Loch Goil where we anchored
in front of a ruined castle and enjoyed a well-earned breakfast.
It was still a lively force six on our return back down Loch Goil.
A thrilling two or three hours of tacking back and forth across the
loch ensued. A valuable lesson was learnt that we should not be over-canvassed
in those conditions as a few gusts overpowered the tiller on one or
two occasions. Pete allowed this to happen to demonstrate to us just
how far the boat can heal over safely before righting itself (a reef
in the main and a little less genoa made for a much more manageable
and faster boat ).
Around 11.00 am a submarine was spotted in the distance making steady
progress up the loch towards us. The radio burst into life telling all
interested parties to go to channel 86 for further information on the
sub's activities. This we duly did and learned that it would be playing
games in that area for the next eleven hours and to keep clear. On passing
the sub whilst still tacking back and forth, some of its crew came onto
the conning tower and gave us a cheery wave. Again the radio burst into
life - it was the sub telling us that we were obviously enjoying ourselves
and not impeding them in anyway and wishing us happy sailing. This was
much to our relief as we thought we were in for a boll....ing. Sadly,
after another hour or so of thrilling sailing but not much progress
down the loch, the sails were dropped and the engine started for the
long trek back to Largs.
All in all, I had a great week and learnt a great deal. My thanks to
Pete for his faultless instruction and for regaling us all with his
many sailing stories and tales of his life in the army, to John and
Jason for skilfully navigating us through the week and being such friendly
shipmates and to Jim, my long suffering bunk mate, who had to put up
with me for the week and never lost his wonderful Irish sense of humour.
Thanks also to John for the accompanying photos.
|

Peter and Jason, with shades of the "Boyhood of Raleigh",
in Caladh Harbour, Kyles of Bute.
|

"I see no ships". Pete and me with binoculars, Jim
taking care of the helm.
|
|

Jim ready to pass up the painter. Pete and me behind.
|

John and the castle at Loch Ranza. The stern of Jay, another
of the RNYC boats, is visible behind.
|
|

Flamingo in beautiful Tarbet, bathed in the afternoon sunlight.
|

Fresh winds against a backdrop of Arran.
|
|