Day 28 - Rodel - Hermesay - Lochmaddy - 15 miles

Did I say a good nights sleep? Come high water too many of those mean Minch waves began to find their way in to the anchorage, and we rolled as the wires in the mast banged and crashed. Eventually got up earlier than intended and caught the inshore forecast. The wind is going to go Southerly at some point and blow quite hard, but the timing seems a little vague. We are empooled until about three o'clock when there is enough water to get out through Bay Passage, so we are not planning a long trip today. We don't really want to go to Lochmaddy again, as it did not inspire me on my previous two visits, but it is the logical choice - particularly when we discover the wind has died away to a mere zephyr and the infernal machinery will have to be employed.

We raise the main more in hope than anger and motor-sail across the entrance to the rock-strewn Sound of Harris, for which we have no large scale chart. I go below and fire up the laptop with the as yet unused in anger electronic navigation system. I open the 1-10,000 chart showing Sound of Harris - Cope Passage, plug in the GPS mouse and we head off for the first pair of buoys with a view to maybe rockhopping our way to Berneray. The little red boat on the chart doesn't seem to be quite where the mk 1 eyeball says we are though, and when we reach the first buoy my suspicions are confirmed. I check the position with the main GPS - it's about 100 metres out N and the same W. Obviously a datum problem of some kind, but with the wind suddenly getting up and the tide turning against us discretion seems the better part and we turn round and head back to the Cope safe water mark.

Heading once more for Lochmaddy I glance at Haswell Smith and find we are just passing one of his islands - Hermetray. There seems like plenty of time and the anchorage looks straightforward, so in we go. We only have a small scale paper chart, but we thought things would be obvious from Hamish's sketch map. Not so - it was high water, and a drying reef was all wet and invisible, changing the whole landscape. We got sufficiently confused for me to go below and fire up the electric chart again, at which point all became clear.

We anchored and I went ashore while Kathy stayed behind to fish. I landed and discovered I was not alone - some canoeists had also come ashore. Really, uninhabited islands just aren't what they used to be. I went inshore and couldn't see them . . . the island is easy walking, as it is grazed by sheep, and I tramped over a majority of it. Across to the loch, then up over three separate high points until I found the true summit of the island with a wonderful view of the Sound of Harris full of carelessly scattered rocks, reefs and islands, and so back to the dinghy.

Back on board Fairwinds, Kathy gave me some improbable tale of a giant saithe that had got away, taking her spinner with it. We upped anchor and resumed motoring for Lochmaddy. On the way Kathy hooked and lost two mackerel, and threw one back because it was too small. Once on the mooring she chucked the feathers over the side and they promptly and mysteriously fell off the line. A black day for the fishing industry on Fairwinds I'm afraid. The good news was that I fixed the datum problem and the little red boat was exactly where it should be on the mooring, with both GPS receivers agreeing to within two or three metres.

Chile con carne and a glass of wine. Couldn't be bothered to go ashore even though the dinghy is already inflated and it's no distance. Plans rather fluid - waiting for the weather forecast in the morning before deciding. If it's rotten then you can get showers here . . . and I really need to wash my boot socks . . .

4:07 PM - Aug. 12, 2005 - post comment