Parker 275 Flamingo's Adventures

Under the Bridge(s)

Overnight on the Dysart pontoon I have completed my research into the Forth Crossings. I think we all know about the Forth Rail Bridge (if not it is worth reading about), first opened in 1890 I will claim it as an icon of a time when Britain was proud, ambitious and forward looking. I suspect that the Scots will claim it as an icon of a time when Scotland was proud, ambitious and forward looking.

Next in line geographically and chronologically is the Forth Road Bridge, opened in 1964 it was at the time the fourth longest ‘long span suspension bridge’ in the world. Over recent years however it has become clear that this bridge is close to the end of it’s life. Remarkably the Scottish Government have identified this fact and reacted by commissioning a replacement before the old bridge dies.

Third in line is the new Queensferry Crossing bridge which came in substantially under budget (but late, blamed on the Scottish weather). An interesting feature (to me anyway) of the new ‘cable stayed’ bridge is that when the cables are at the end of their lives, they can be replaced individually without even closing the bridge. For this reason, the new bridge has a projected lifespan of 120 years, twice that of the old Suspension bridge. So for now there are two road bridges, the old one carries pedestrians, cyclists and public transport while the new one carries the remainder of the traffic. All three look magnificent, individually and together. I do like bridges.

The following morning we are up and underway at the ungodly hour of 0620, it is a long time since we had an early start and although it is well after sunrise we are still greeted by a beautiful warm sunny morning. The forecast wind of northerly F2-3 veering north easterly F2-4 comes to nothing and although we briefly hoist sail we soon give up and are motoring. We are motoring in no wind, in a busy, rock strewn river with a suspect engine, so this exciting trip is tinged with a little apprehension. As you will see from the plan below we are going to buoy hop along the north side of the main channel today, rather than relying heavily on waypoints. Some skippers might find this plan overly detailed for a passage that essentially relies on motoring from one green buoy to another, but we find that we can relax more with a secure plan in place. Quite why I have waypointed the bridges I don’t know, we can see them from nine miles out!

Motoring up the glassy smooth river we pass the lighthouse on Oxcars Island to port and Inchcolm Island with it’s ancient abbey to starboard.

There are many islands in the river, all with the prefix Inch meaning island; these are easily spotted, it’s the scattered rocks that cause us sleepless nights.

The bridges don’t really appear, they just keep getting bigger as we approach, it reminds me of Father Ted explaining to Dougal that the model cow is small and the real cow is far away. As we approach the rail bridge there is a definite air of excitement aboard, these are moments to be treasured. We took Flamingo from Brancaster, sailed her nearly 500 miles to get here and we are now going to pass under the Forth Rail Bridge.

I suppress a little twinge of anxiety about the engine and by 1000hrs we are past the C.Spirit oil tanker moored at the Hound Point oil terminal and passing under the first bridge.

The folly of putting a waypoint under the next bridge is writ large as we approach, there is only one span to pass under, it is 1006 metres wide with a 50m vertical clearance at it’s lowest point, we can pass under anywhere we like with our 12.5 metre mast.

We have been greeted with oohs and aahs when we tell people that we are headed for Port Edgar, ‘It’s posh, it’s expensive, very commercialised’. From the aerial photo in the pilot book it looks like an up market St Kats (next to Tower Bridge in London). On arrival we pass between the outer breakwaters keeping close to the west wall as directed only to run aground, we raise the keel a little and with some guidance from a local RIB we plough our way into berth C18. Belinda heads up to the office to pay and on her return we move to berth C28, the owner of C18 is launching tomorrow.

We loved our time at Port Edgar, and will definitely be returning in the future, but I don’t think that the owners are running the marina that they think they’re running. Trip boats taking tourists from the cruise ships depart from here, so the shops and restaurants cater for quite a wealthy clientele, not the grubby yachtie types. There is a chandlery selling all manner of beautiful nautically themed clothing, although commendably a quarter of the shop is set aside for a very well stocked actual chandlery. The rest of it feels a bit like working boat yard with scattered portacabins for the facilities. The marina is however abuzz with activity, it’s especially pleasing to see so many kids on the water taking part in all sorts of lessons and simple water-bound fun activities.

The rotten pontoons are rapidly being replaced with very smart new ones but the place really does need dredging if they are going to charge top dollar.

The crew however hit laundry nirvana as having paid her £7 she was issued not with tokens for one wash/dry, but the code for the wash room with unlimited access. Our whole stay was thereafter divided into activities of 1 hour duration (wash) or 2.5 hours duration (tumble dry), if the rudder would have fitted in the machine it would have been washed.

We spent three lovely days in Port Edgar visiting South Queensferry plus walking and cycling along the very picturesque river bank, with every view enhanced by the bridges. The highlight though was cycling across the old Forth Road Bridge to visit North Queensferry. Until you are up on the bridge it is difficult to imagine how high up you will be and how good the view will be. Looking back we get a great view of South Queensferry with its cobbled streets, pubs, restaurants, gift shops and sub standard ice cream parlours.

For me though, North Queensferry wins out over the very pretty, touristy South Queensferry every time. There is a real air here of the industrial past that has created these bridges. There are still beautiful houses, with spectacular views but the dock and waterfront have a lovely gritty feel to them.

When the Rail Bridge was being built in the 1880s North Queensferry boasted thirteen pubs and hotels, all filled with construction workers, it must have been like the wild west. None of the pubs remain.

North Queensferry also boasts the worlds smallest working lighthouse, built in 1817 by Robert Stevenson (grandfather of the author Robert Louis Stevenson) it has recently been reopened as Scotland’s smallest museum. It’s my kind of museum, you can look around all of it properly in six minutes and it has exactly the right number of paintings, none.

Interestingly the crew felt distinctly uneasy in North Queensferry for no reason that either of us could identify.

Our time in Port Edgar however is limited, on Thursday we have to move Flamingo back to The Royal Forth Yacht Club, who will take care of her (I hope) at Granton while we catch the train home for a big family birthday.

Up Against The Wall

On the 19th July we sneak out of Granton bound for Anstruther again. Most of the harbours here seem to be ‘half tide’, meaning that we can get in and out about three hours either side of high water; this combined with long daylight hours has simplified the passage planning process. With our growing knowledge of the harbours that we have visited we are now able to squeeze an extra half hour or more out of each tide, leaving earlier or arriving later. With so much daylight we are also able to plan to sail from early in the morning until late into the evening, and of course we are fully capable of night sailing should it be necessary.

To date we have been sailing between tides, leaving one harbour as late as possible as one tide ebbs away and arriving at our destination at the start of the new flood tide. This means that we have a full six hours of water should we arrive late, or for example the engine overheats and we have to wait for it to cool.

Today however, with our growing experience we are going to sail across one tide, departing from Granton as soon as there is enough water and hoping to arrive at Anstruther while there is still enough water to get safely to our berth.

I have looked at my tide height notes from when we arrived here and calculated that we can safely leave Granton four hours before high water. My target when planning these things is to be able to manoeuvre in the harbour with all of the rudder down, and two thirds of the keel. Once the rudder is partly raised the boat becomes difficult to control and it exerts huge forces on the tiller and rudder blade. On our previous boat, Kittiwake I managed to snap a perfectly good tiller trying to gybe with the rudder up.

Half tide at our destination Anstruther, allows us to get to our mooring (we now feel like it’s our mooring) with about 100mm under the rudder. I don’t mind pushing our luck a little at Anstruther because we have seen the harbour dried out and it is billiard table flat, soft mud everywhere and completely free of obstructions apart from a very ominous looking spike, which turns out to be a weed encrusted traffic cone.

So armed with this knowledge we have well over eight hours to complete a passage that I am anticipating will take only six, this affords us a degree of comfort and makes the passage more relaxing. Should the whole enterprise go awry we have bail out ports at Dysart and Ellie that we can divert to en route. The forecast is F3-4 from the south, becoming light and variable for a time, so there is no threat of strong winds and the possibility of some first class sailing on our ene course.

Having seen no commercial traffic on the way here we have decided that we will sail straight down the Leith Deep Water Channel (DWC), only ducking out of the channel if we need to keep clear of a big boat. Once past the fairway buoy we will be in clear water all the way to our destination.

In bright sunshine and high teens temperatures we monitor the depth under the boat with the echo sounder until we are able to leave a full 20 minutes before planned, there will be no hurry today and we can enjoy the sail even if it is a bit slow.

Once underway we have the absolute luxury of a wind that is adhering to the forecast and we are broad reaching along the Leith DWC, briefly tying one reef into the mainsail before shaking it out again. We are regularly making 5kts through the water but our speed over the ground is compromised by the incoming tide. The only traffic that we have to consider are the myriad little tenders that scurry about like ants, ferrying Americans in Hawaiian shirts and smart-phone toting Asians from the cruise ships that blight the river. Don’t get me wrong, the people are lovely, it has been a pleasure to repay some of the hospitality that we have been so grateful to receive on our recent trips abroad, its just that the cruise ships are too big, too numerous and too ugly.

These tenders are absolutely not big vessels, and they are not using the DWC so we are stand on vessel, and their very professional skippers avoid us without incident. For any non sailors reading, this is all laid out in the COLREGS (Convention on the International Regulations for Preventing Collisions at Sea 1972) plus any local guidance that applies.

As we pass Inchkeith Island we see a stark reminder of the need to not lose our focus. If we were making this passage in the Thames estuary we would sail just outside the channel on the starboard side, safe in the knowledge that seabed is sand or mud and we can dip back into the DWC if it gets shallow. Here there are big rocks immediately outside the buoyed channel.

The wind drops briefly mid afternoon and we have to motor for half an hour before it picks us again and we complete our passage under sail. We are safely back in our berth by 1530, the trip having taken five hours and fifty minutes. Two of the other visitor berths are taken and within an hour their crews have become new sailing friends, who share some great advice.

First up is Mark on a lovely clinker built 28 footer, Windsong of Leigh, built in Leigh-on-Sea He has sailed up here single handed from Martlesham Creek on the river Deben in Suffolk and is bound for the Orkneys. This of course means that we can no longer strut around the harbour as the heroic crew of the little yacht that has sailed two handed from Norfolk.

Chatting with Mark and the crew of the boat moored on our port side we agree that our next stop will be the small harbour of Dysart. Although we have tackled some lovely stone harbours so far, many of them drying, they have all had pontoons, which makes it easy; too easy?

At Dysart we will have to moor against a stone wall, using our fenders, and my fender boards from Tynemouth to keep us clear of the masonry that will cause damage at the slightest contact with our topsides. Any serious contact caused by swell in the harbour has the capability to cause sufficient damage to end our trip or even compromise the hull. Of greater concern to me is the fact that we will settle on the bottom at low water, and to avoid damage to the hull we are absolutely reliant on the bottom being sand or mud, and completely free of obstructions such as rocks or other debris. Finally, once moored the tide will begin to drop, so we will have to stay aboard to keep adjusting the mooring ropes so that Flamingo doesn’t hang off the wall which would be disastrous.

The Pilot Book, and our new sailing friends have all assured us that Dysart is lovely and an ideal first stone wall for us southern softies. Even Lorna, who sails an identical boat to ours assures us that this is an ideal port for us. We have just two notes of caution, the guy on the boat next to us, who looks like a Scottish gentleman who could handle himself, looks me straight in the eye and says ‘don’t go in the pub’. His message is clear but the look in his eye is clearer, what he means is DO NOT GO IN THE PUB, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES! Ever the adventurer Belinda asks how bad can it be? Our other concern is a review that the crew has found on t’interweb, some recent visitors had vowed never to return to Dysart because all of the boat owners are drunk or on crack, or both!

I’m getting excited already because after Dysart we will pass under the Forth Rail Bridge heading up river to Port Edgar. I recall that there is a section in the Pilot Book about passing under the bridge so I dig it out and read ‘skippers planning to sail in the Firth of Forth must read the local byelaws and sailing guidance issued by Forth Navigation Services’. So a boat that has recently sailed up to Granton and back should be familiar with, and follow the guidance. Bugger, this is a proper cock up. We have sailed big river estuaries in the past, I know this guidance will be in place and I have completely failed to consider it. If we’d done this on the Thames we would have got into a lot of trouble.

Each of the documents is easily accessed online and consists of thirty pages, so that’s sixty pages to read and digest. I scan read in the evening then get up early and read much more carefully the following morning, making notes as I go along. You absolutely must read all of each document because, for example, the section on LNG tankers and the LNG terminal at Braefoot have exclusion zones (1NM I discover).

I have to read two pages about nuclear powered vessels in case we have to stay clear of them. The final two pages detail the exemptions for pleasure craft under 12m, we are exempt from: Rule 1,2,3,3a,4…….. So there are actually very few restrictions that apply to us, but we can now tackle the Firth of Forth with a significantly improved understanding. We have made one significant error on our trip to Granton though, we should have been monitoring Forth Navigation Services on VHF Channel 71 throughout.

I have noticed that three different Scots have corrected me when I tell them that we are planning to sail under the bridge, they all remind me that there are bridges, plural. I know there are three bridges, clearly I need to investigate all of them not just the UNESCO World Heritage site rail bridge.

In now very settled conditions, we depart Anstruther, hopefully not for the last time, bound for Dysart. Its a short passage, only 13 miles and we have a lovely F3 easterly following wind, and the sun is shining again. Now that we know what we are doing we tune the VHF to Ch71 (dual watched on Ch16 of course), just by listening in we should be able to get a snapshot of what is happening in the river. As soon as we pass out between the breakwaters the radio messages start, ‘Forth Navigation, this is HMS Queen Elizabeth, leaving the area and heading to sea’. There she is, right in front of us, Britain’s newest and most expensive white elephant smoking past the Isle-of-May.

I message my brother who is into these kind of things and he points out that it’s a carrier, when it finally gets some aircraft it will become an aircraft carrier.

In sunny and quite warm conditions we enjoy a mix of sailing and motor sailing the short distance to Dysart, and by 1600hrs we are preparing our fenders, lines and fender boards ready for our first wall. The approach to the harbour, through rocks is simple enough using two waypoints although the entrance to the harbour really doesn’t reveal itself until you are on top of it. By 1620hrs we are in the harbour and looking for a place to moor.

In flat calm water, at high water springs and with no wind it is quite easy to manoeuvre around the small, crowded and very pretty harbour, the main hazard being the many fore & aft moorings, most of whose lines and buoys are underwater due to the unusually high tide. On a windy day in a big swell I can imagine it being rather more difficult. There is an obvious spot on the visitor wall and I edge Flamingo in between two ladders and with some effort we manage to secure lines to the top of the wall. We are looking at what to do next to make our berth secure when a lady and a dog arrive, ‘the commodore told me to tell you that you should go on the pontoon’. Within minutes we have swapped fenders and lines to port side and are safely secured against the rudimentary, one boat pontoon. Am I disappointed, yes and no, I’d have liked to tick off this milestone but I feel like it would have been a long and stressful night.

Moored to a floating pontoon, and freed of the need to adjust our lines we walk ashore to investigate the harbour and surrounding streets. The harbour wall above us is busy with local youths angling, they look a likely bunch but are really keen to chat about what they are catching and where they live, near the pub apparently.

The harbour and surrounding streets are so picturesque and filled with history, we could shoot the whole of Flamingo’s 2025 calendar in this one harbour. A local resident tells us that they filmed part of a movie here, dressing it up as a French harbour.

Two streets back however it is a very different scene, there are a lot of banging tunes, cars on bricks and illegal dogs. We decide that we will not investigate further and that the pub will remain a mystery.

*Drunken crack-head steering a small boat*?

Back at the boat we chat to a couple who enquire if we have sailed all the way from Norfolk, they had never heard of Brancaster Staithe but have Googled it. They are not the first Scots that we have met that have mangled the pronunciation of the word Staithe, but to be fair we are still struggling with the local lingo.

As the tide recedes I pace the decks checking through the crystal clear water to see that the bottom looks suitable to dry out on, although by this stage I don’t think there is much that we can do about it if I do spot a problem. Once aground I can see that the bottom is fine where we are, but where we should have moored on the visitor wall is a very different story. Lots of boats successfully moor on these walls and I am beginning to wonder if I’m a bit too precious about Flamingo, and that we are missing out because of it. Later we eat aboard and I then climb the 5 metre slimy ladder to post a tenner through the sailing club door to cover our mooring fees.

By the time that I am walking back to the boat it has become decidedly murky with the river, land and sky all merging into grey, although overhead the sky remains bright. Through the murk across the river there is a beam of bright sunshine illuminating the white buildings near Granton, Sunshine on Leith. I wonder?

Meeting Friends

On our first morning back in Anstruther we take some time to walk east along the coastal path to Crail, walking the other way towards Pittenweem is probably prettier and more varied but we have a mission in mind. After a very pleasant walk we arrive in the village of Crail, we are now very close to Fife Ness and with the binoculars can get a much better view of the offshore sea state. Scanning with the binoculars we can see that the horizon looks like the ripped edge of a piece of paper, not the usual straight line, its is difficult to judge heights, but the waves breaking on the Isle-of-May are sending spray high into the air.

It’s not really a decision that needs to be discussed, we can’t go back out to sea in that, and we certainly can’t consider approaching a north facing harbour like Eyemouth until the sea state moderates.

So it will be another weekend in the drying harbour in Anstruther, this is no hardship, we love it here, it will afford us a chance to eat at the outstanding Ox & Anchor again, but a decision will have to be made about where to watch the football final.

*Drying Harbour, note colour coordinated laundry*

During the day on Sunday we spoke to friends Dean & Joanne who are heading up to meet us in their camper van. They have a site booked in Berwick-upon-Tweed for Monday so we agree to meet them in Eyemouth. I get one of my team to ring Eyemouth to check that they will have a berth for us, only to be told that the harbour is closed to visitors all week for dredging, we’re going to need a new plan, again.

It is clear that the sea state is still raised and we don’t fancy an unknown port in these conditions, so we decide that we will head west, up the Firth of Forth to Port Edgar. Lorna, one of our new friends in Anstruther (and Parker 275 sailor) suggest that we have a look at Granton, it’s closer, cheaper and has much better access to Edinburgh.

A note here about the pilot book. The role of the pilot book is to inform you of the hazards, risks and difficulties that you are likely to encounter entering a new port. This enables you to make informed decisions, but on first reading can seem rather gloomy and doom laden. I’ve already looked at Granton and rejected it for various reasons, but Lorna assures us that it is fine, so on Monday we head for Granton.

On Sunday night we enjoy a couple of pints while watching the football in the New Ship Tavern, we have spent evenings here before on previous visits and it seemed very civilised.

We shared a table with a group of young Scots, plus one Englishman from Leeds swelling the ranks of the English to three. He didn’t hold out much hope for a sympathetic reception for England or the English. While waiting for the kick off the Leodensian and I worked out our strategy by practicing a very subtle under the table celebratory fist pumps until Belinda pointed out that we looked like Gareth Hunt magicking the beans in the Maxwell House advert (you’ll need to be of a certain age to get this one)! The result is history and the Scots were ecstatic. I’ve pondered long and hard over the Scot’s attitude to the English, I don’t think they cared that Spain won, but they were thrilled that England lost; schadenfreude?

We don’t carry paper charts for the Firth of Forth, and there is nowhere here to buy one, so we will have to complete this potentially difficult passage using Navionics electronic charts only. I am not at all happy with this situation. With electronic (vector) charts there is no way to look at the whole trip on the small screen, and as you zoom out the detail disappears layer by layer. If you zoom back in you lose the overall view, this is not an ideal situation but many (most?) boats navigate this way so with care it should be possible.

*Zoom out one level and this detail disappears completely!*

Heading west up the Forth there appear to be three main routing options: the main Forth Deep Water Channel; the smaller Leith Deep Water Channel; or by careful waypoint selection we can take a more southerly route, avoiding a couple of islands and some rocks along the way, this should be free of commercial shipping. I opt for the southerly route and with the addition of five new waypoints we have a plan. I have also made sketch plans of the passage so that we can complete the trip should the electronics fail.

The sail itself is pleasant and undemanding, we depart as late as we dare, three hours after HW Anstruther at 1230hrs, with the anticipation that we will need to motor much of the trip. Today’s forecast, taken from our three usual sources is wind F3 or less, NW or SE! Actually out on the water the breeze settles for a combination of north-west and south-east, i.e. zero knots. From 1400hrs the wind fills in a little, from the south and we enjoy a very pleasant passage in lovely sunshine (sunshine on Leith?).

As we approach Leith docks, where the Royal Yacht Britannia is moored as a visitor attraction, we pass through an anchorage containing a big oil tanker and a smaller vessel whose name from the AIS looks familiar. As we pass we recognise an old friend Arklow Ranger as one of the little green coasters that rocks us when we are moored on the river Orwell at Pin Mill.

As we approach Granton at 1800hrs conditions are becoming hazy but we are treated to a glimpse of the Forth Railway Bridge in the distance. Immediately I am thinking that we should have continued up river, under the bridge and into Port Edgar.

Once up to our Granton Entry waypoint we begin our approach as directed in the pilot book: centrally between the two outer breakwaters; head direct for the central pier-head; jink to port keeping as close as possible to the pier and the moored pilot boats and then finally onto the Royal Forth Yacht Club pontoon. All the while keeping a very close eye on the depth sounder as the pilot book is rather vague on the expected depths (‘liable to silting’). At 1820hrs we moor to the pontoon with 1.4m of water under the hull which is comfortable for us, we could manage with 1.0m if we lift a third of the keel. I immediately nip below to record the time, depth and height-of-tide so that I can better manage the depths on out exit. Twenty three nautical miles today, taking our trip total to 444, Nelson. We haven’t seen a single commercial vessel underway all day so I may select one of the deep water routes when we leave.

Granton looks lovely, so lovely in fact that I didn’t take any photographs. It is an old commercial dock that hasn’t been converted into a marina, there is a small pontoon run by the very friendly Royal Forth Yacht Club and the equally friendly Forth Corinthian Yacht Club; the remainder of the the basin is given over to really well maintained and ordered drying moorings, serviced by a club launch.

Beyond the harbour Edinburgh is there to explore on the bikes, we were advised to turn left out of the harbour and follow the cycle track into town which we did, the converted railway line takes us to within half a mile of our intended destination, the National Galleries of Scotland. We were also told, under no circumstances should we turn right out of the harbour, ‘Bandit Country’. Obviously we did turn right to have a look, Bandit Country!

The National Galleries of Scotland were disappointing, mainly just paintings. It was a shame because the Germans we met in Arbroath recommended it very highly. I guess that we are just not arty people, or to be honest city people.

The following day Dean & Joanne arrived in the camper, Dean reluctantly sat in the cockpit while we drank coffee but it was clear that there was no way that we were untying the boat. This seemed to have scuppered my plan to sail up to the Forth Bridge, but he came up with an alternative, we would visit South Queensferry in the land yacht; he even sweetened the deal with the promise of a visit to ‘Scotland’s best ice cream parlour’.

South Queensferry is a delight, very pretty and right under the bridge. I’m a sucker for an interesting bridge, to the point that when the kids were teenagers they had to suffer a two week camping holiday in Millau, so that I could see the new bridge there. As soon as we got to South Queensferry I knew that we were coming back to Port Edgar marina so that we could sail Flamingo under the bridge.

Here’s a little tip for ice cream parlour owners; don’t offer 52 flavours in the window, specifically including Rum & Raisin, then back it up with a board that you can peruse during your 15 minute wait, also offering Rum & Raisin only to then have the serving lassie tell you, nooo we don’t have Rum & Raisin today. It took three pints of Aspall’s cyder in the pub garden overlooking the sublimely beautiful bridge before I stopped effing and jeffing. Must try harder.

We top off our day out with a fantastic Indian meal at Rishi’s in Leith which included a very fine Dhosa. It’s remarkable how he’s got this place up and running so quickly after losing his last job. Back aboard I have a little Glen Moray and listen to ‘Sunshine on Leith’ by the Proclaimers four times before being told to stop.

In five days time we need to be on a train to Lincoln for a big family birthday, and we have dodged making a decision for long enough, following a simple negotiation with RFYC we agree that Flamingo can stay in Granton for a week while we are away. Train tickets are booked (ouch) and we start making plans for how and where we will spend the next five days before our trip south. We are really enjoying sailing in the Firth of Forth, especially now that we are getting to know it a little better. We really don’t want to kill time waiting to go home, we need to find the next bit of our adventure.

Words & Pictures #2

If you looked carefully you will have noticed a note stuck to the windscreen of the speedboat, it was written by the Harbour Master.

I’m sure that he would have liked to say exactly what he was thinking but was probably constrained by the need to be professional.

I think that it could probably be condensed into about six words.

Words & Pictures #1

This is part one of a very short bonus post. The words in the blogs tell most of the story, most of the time.

The photos, which I really enjoy taking, either decorate or inform the story.

Sometimes, however, it is good for the reader to add their own meaning to the narrative by reading between the lines, creating their own story.

Equally, as they say, a picture paints a thousand words, and each of us will draw a different meaning from a picture.

So it is that I present you with this image without caption or comment, you can make your own story…

Arbroath back to Anstruther

Accurate weather forecasts, and more specifically wind and wave forecasts are doubly important to us on this unknown coast. Without local knowledge we have fewer options for safe bolt holes should the forecast not be what we expected.

We are now relying heavily on the Met Office’s Inshore Waters Forecast but tempered by PassageWeather.com, which gives us extra detail and breaks down the forecast within the Met Office areas. Rattray head is over a hundred miles north of Berwick-upon-Tweed and conditions can vary dramatically across the forecast area. For close in coastal sailing, or in the Firth of Forth we also check the Met Office land forecast, always adding 50% to the wind speeds to account for the increase over water.

The forecast for Friday 12th July, taken from all three of our weather sources suggested northerly winds of five to fifteen knots, possibly veering to north easterly. The sea state however was forecast as smooth or slight, possibly rough around Berwick-upon-Tweed.

The maximum wave height for a slight sea state is 2.5m, for moderate it is 4m; in the right conditions a slight sea state is a challenge for us, in the wrong conditions a rough sea state is dangerous. The coast around Arbroath runs from south west to north east, this has shielded us from the worst of the wind and waves over the last few days, conditions off the harbour look benign. However we must be wary of conditions off Fife Ness.

The best way to progress our passage would be to sail direct to Eyemouth but two things are putting us off. If the wind, as forecast, is light we will have a lot of motoring to do with an engine that is still unproven, and secondly there is a real possibility that there will be waves of 2m to 4m running directly into Eyemouth’s north facing entrance. For these reasons we have elected to sail to Anstruther, rounding Fife Ness may be challenging but we can do it well off shore and in deep water. Anstruther’s south facing entrance will be sheltered from the waves, and is less dangerous than Eyemouth anyway. We will then move to Eyemouth on Saturday or Sunday ready for the football.

At 0840 we slip our lines and head out of Arbroath just before the harbour master closes the gate. The sun is shining and the spinnaker is in it’s bag, secured on the bow for what looks like being a slow downwind sail. We have over nine hours until we can safely enter Anstruther harbour, and only 29NM to sail so sailing slowly really isn’t a problem for us.

Also leaving with us are Mischief and the German boat, both bound for Eyemouth which is 44NM away, so they will need to be quicker than us. I hope that the conditions aren’t too bad for them and they get in OK.

With the wind dead behind we sail under full genoa initially, making just 2.4kts, this is a bit too slow, but maybe it will pick up later. By 1015hrs however the wind has died to nothing, the engine is on and the pattern for the day is set.

At 11.45hrs we spot a feeding frenzy of gannets about a quarter of a mile off our port bow, we have nothing else to do so we alter course to investigate.

We have been told that sea bird gatherings like this can indicate dolphin or whale activity, the birds do seem to be very animated. As we head over towards the birds I break out the binoculars, the scene is like something from Jaws, fins are slashing backwards and forwards through the water that has already been churned by the diving gannets. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up, this really is exciting and scary. We’re not on an organised whale watching trip, we are on our own boat, making it up as we go along.

What to do though? It doesn’t seem right to just motor into the 30m diameter circle of activity so we stop at the edge and switch off the motor. Initially all we see are the gannets diving for fish, maybe the noise of the engine has frightened the dolphin away. The birds however are going crazy and the shrieking is incessant.

Then the fins arrive, initially we see what appears to be two dolphins criss crossing the area feeding. They are so quick (and hard to photograph), surfacing briefly then disappearing.

It soon becomes clear that what we thought was a dolphin in the distance is in fact one of two minke whales. Before long they establish a pattern approaching the boat from astern, they surface and blow right alongside, diving before surfing again ahead of the boat.

They then dissappear for a minute while they circle round to surface alongside again, at times we can see them approaching under the crystal clear green tinged water, given away by the white patches on their flanks. These are fully grown adults and are about 8m in length, the same as Flamingo. Initially we are concerned that they will hit the boat, they are that close but before long we begin to relax, they are having fun, not orca style, bite your rudder off fun, just good old fashioned fun.

We had hoped that if we were really lucky on this trip we might just see a whale pass in the distance, but this is beyond anything we could have dreamed of. The atmosphere on the boat is electric neither of us can believe what is happening.

It is quite clear that although they are still feeding, they are also playing to the gallery, deliberately circling Flamingo putting on a show, probably for their own amusement. We watch in utter amazement, occasionally taking photos as the display repeats over and over.

Then, after about 45 minutes the birds, the dolphins and the whales just seem to lose interest and slide away, the surface of the sea calms and it is over. I don’t think that either of us can believe what we have just seen. We are sat motionless, alone in a glassy sea so we restart the engine and make our way in disbelief towards Fife Ness.

As we approach Fife Ness there has be no wind for several hours, the surface of the water is glassy smooth but now there is swell like nothing we have seen before, even on a long North Sea crossing. The swell approaches slowly and is completely benign, Flamingo rises and falls with it without drama. We estimate the height to be 1.5m to 2m; from seated in the cockpit the horizon is obscured when we are in the dips, but there are only about eight crests per minute. The whole of the seascape around us looks like a series of shiny blue valleys and ridges. I do wonder what these waves will be doing as the water shoals and the channel narrows for Mischief at Eyemouth.

By 1500hrs the wind is beginning to fill in and we raise sail. As we round Fife Ness and turn west towards our destination the wind finally settles, from the west, and we start beating up the Firth of Forth.

Past the Isle of May once again we approach our arrival waypoint and are soon passing between the outer breakwaters at Anstruther. We have done very little actual sailing today, but it is a sail that I know will live in our memories forever.

Arbroath

The Forth Yacht Club’s outstanding pilot book for this coast raves about Arbroath, promising maritime history, great pubs and restaurants plus excellent opportunities for provisioning.

An early trip into the town on Tuesday disappoints, with a collection of the usual dreary shops along an equally dreary High Street. Timpsons, Poundland, Greggs and the usual collection of charity shops don’t bode well, we could be anywhere. The search for a pub to watch Wednesday’s semi-final doesn’t start well either.

The weather suggests that we are going to be storm bound here until at least Friday which is four days away, so we need to find something to do.

We spend Tuesday afternoon walking along the cliffs to the north east. The red sandstone here is soft and is eroded very easily by the waves, this has created a fascinating coast with many picturesque inlets, caves and natural sea arches.

While walking we resolve a small mystery, when viewed from seaward the countryside around Arbroath appears to be covered in flat, grey shapes, possibly solar farms? Closer inspection reveals acre upon acre of strawberries growing in poly-tunnels.

The cliffs are great news for us, because almost regardless of the weather we both enjoy walking, taking in the scenery, the sea and the wildlife. We can certainly enjoy a few days here.

Our next big win is the Arbroath Smokie; for many years I have been aware of the Arbroath Smokie, although I have never eaten one, or even seen one. Fortunately you cannot miss Smokies in Arbroath, there are three smokehouses within sight of Flamingo’s cockpit and the smell of smoked fish surrounds the harbour, in a good way.

For the uninitiated like me, a Smokie is a hot smoked haddock, which is supplied cold, and can be served in many ways. On the return from our walk we procure a couple of these delicacies ready for the evening meal, and they do not dissapoint. Still reeling from the fact that gannets have usurped oystercatchers in my affections, I now find that Fortune’s Whitby kippers have competition; my belief system is crumbling around me. Our Smokies are amazing served with salad and pickles on the first night, but they were sublime the next night served with a mushroom byriani, heaven. If all of this has whetted your appetite all is not lost, we ordered Smokies online from Spinks in Arbroath and they arrived at my mum’s the following day.

Another little culinary win for us was the discovery of an old school sweetie shop and liquorice dealer on the harbour front. It’s instructive though that a quarter of liquorice allsorts, that used to be a treat forty years ago now looks like a rather niggardly portion compared to the enormous bags that you get from the supermarket for £1.

Our final food discovery was a bakery and pie shop up near the overpriced and badly eroded Arbroath Abbey (it’s that red sandstone again). Local rumour has it that Andrew first met Fergie here on a stag night, but we couldn’t find any evidence to support that claim.

The pies and bakes were many, varied and reasonably priced, although in common with most Scottish bakers the vegetarian options were limited to a macaroni cheese pie, or not having a pie. I feel like I have quite adventurous tastes in these matters, but some of the fillings were beyond my frame of reference.

*Is this going to be a lunchtime treat on passage?*

On the 11th July, 2024 we called into Screwfix and bought a fan heater to supplement the diesel heater aboard!

We made enquiries around the harbour and were assured that The Commercial Inn was definitely the place to watch the semi-final against the Netherlands. It being described as a fisherman’s pub didn’t ease our concerns.

We needn’t have worried, there were eight people in the bar, all knowledgeable about the game and all supporting England. After the final whistle they all agreed that England were the better team and deserved winners. A pleasant enough evening but not the excitement that we had hoped for, our last hope for excitement is to get back to the Contented Sole in Eyemouth for the final.

Our last day was taken up with a very pleasant cycle ride along the coast to Carnoustie, which we later discovered is another golfing centre, and a trip around the Watch Tower Museum. Please note from the photo below that I am exactly on the leading lines.

*Watch Tower Museum and harbour entrance*

The Watch Tower was part of the infrastructure for the Bell Rock Lighthouse which stands 11 miles offshore. The ball on the roof was raised and lowered to signal information to the lighthouse keepers. Apparently, if one of the lighthouse keepers became a father while on duty a dress or a pair of trousers would be raised to inform the new father of the sex of the new arrival. A pair of cormorants resting on the similar apparatus on the lighthouse triggered a rescue mission on another occasion.

Our last evening is spent in planning the next leg of the trip followed by a boring meal in a boring restaurant that our German neighbours have recommended.

By Thursday afternoon it is clear that we will be able to leave the following morning. The storms that we were promised have not materialised although it is clear that it has been blowing over 30kts plus not too far offshore. We are beginning to adapt our practice to suit the weather and the forecasts up here. It is well known that the weather changes very quickly up north, but we are finding that the forecast does too. It is quite possible to go to bed with one thing forecast and by the time that you awake it has become something completely different. We also need to consider the impact of distant winds on the sea state.

Tomorrow we leave for Anstruther, then Eyemouth, Lindisfarne and finally Newcastle upon Tyne where we will catch a train home for a big family birthday at the end of July.

Sailing

Eyemouth

With HW at 0310 we slipped our lines and headed out of Anstruther at 0600hrs on the last of the tide, headed for Eyemouth, with a view to going on to Lindisfarne next. The forecast was for overcast skies and north westerly winds F3-4, this looked like being a great sailing day. We actually awoke to a sunny sky with broken cloud but still very cold. We were soon clear of the harbour and broad reaching for St Abbs Head, 27NM to the south east. The winds were lighter than predicted and we were a little bit slow, this suited us as once again we were tide constrained at both ends, and were likely to have to wait for enough water to enter Eyemouth.

Looking back towards Anstruther we could see low grey clouds developing all along the coast, but ahead the cloud was broken to reveal some pleasant bright patches. Sadly we couldn’t outrun the cloud but the light rain did bring a welcome increase in wind speed to help us on our way. By 1100hrs the rain had passed and the cold wind began to veer round to north, still blowing F4.

As the sky brightened, and visibility increased we spotted a vessel with a distinct military appearance ahead our way. Once again the AIS provided the missing information; it was an un-named French warship. This caused us some concern, we had already learned that the ‘Twin Cannons Fort’ at Eyemouth had been a joint Scots French endeavour against the English, and we had read of similar initiatives throughout history. You can’t take your eye of either of them, not even for a minute.

By 1310hrs we had managed to get into Eyemouth harbour under our own steam and ten minutes later we were secured on the pontoon, thankfully without the need to raft. We felt a bit overdressed, it had been bitterly cold at sea and we were in full oilies, gloves and hats, customers in the harbourside cafés and pub gardens were in shorts and t-shirts. We were feeling good however, we’d had a lovely seven hour sail and only used the engine for docking, it was starting to feel like a sailing trip again.

We had one important task while in port and that was to decide where to watch England vs Switzerland in the Euros. We wanted to find a proper local Scottish pub where the locals were sure to be shouting on their trusty British cousins. We settled on the Contented Sole again, and we weren’t disappointed.

We guessed that something was amiss as soon as we entered the bar, several of the local customers had picnics with them on the tables, many with a prominently displayed Swiss Roll. Others wore hats with ‘you’re going home’ printed on them, from this they had developed a song, the gist of which was ‘you’re going home, you’re going home, England’s going home’.

A lady at the table next to us seemed to be very excitable but have a limited grasp of the English language or the minutae of football tactics. Every time England got the ball in an attacking position (which mercifully wasn’t often) she would leap up and scream ‘get tae fuck youze’ at the television. I think it roughly translates as ‘grab a late equaliser and win it on penalties’, but it’s hard to be certain.

It all seemed to be fairly good natured, in an ‘old firm derby’ kind of way, we left after extra time and penalties with a similar feeling of relief that you get tieing up after it has blown up to F7 without warning.

Flushed with our success in the football we decided that it was too early to be heading south to Lindisfarne, so we will head north to Arbroath on Monday. I celebrated by awarding myself a nice little 12 year old Glen Moray and then smashing the glass chimney on the cabin oil lamp.

Arbroath

At 44NM the trip to Arbroath is a rather bigger undertaking, we will be crossing the mouth of the Firth of Forth, then between Fife Ness and the wind farm, finally arriving at another new harbour with a narrow rocky approach, stone walls and a gate that closes at half tide. The forecast is for sunny intervals with westerly breezes F3-5, this suits us just fine; the wind is then forecast to go north easterly and nobody is saying if it will back or veer. It it backs it will be ideal, if it veers, which seems more likely, it will gradually head us (off course).

By 0650 we have slipped our lines and at 0710 the log records ‘full white sail, beautiful sunny day’, we are beam reaching and making 5kts directly towards Arbroath, champagne sailing. As we clear the lee of St Abbs Head the wind increases strength to F4 and veers to west-north-west, the seas also build as they fetch all the way down the Forth. Still we are making fantastic pace but by 1000hrs we take in one reef, a dream sail.

We are now sailing pretty tight on the wind, if it veers or increases in strength we will have a scrap on our hands, if it backs we will be in clover. We have to bear in mind that we are still only 15NM into our trip, with a suspect engine, I am still weighing up where our last abort point will be.

Over the next couple of hours the wind slowly backs and drops to F3, so by 1200hrs we have shaken out the reef and are once again broad reaching, on time and on track for the waypoint that will keep us out of the ‘under construction’ windfarm.

The sailors reading will know that this can’t last, and at 1215hrs there is a call on the VHF, ‘sailing vessel in position 56°16.89N 2°22.23W’, that’s us, what have we done this time! I have never answered one of these before but after a slightly comedic exchange we meet up on Ch06. The vessel calling is the Guard Vessel Seagull, so the conversation goes Seagull, Flamingo; Flamingo, Seagull……

The long and the short of it is that Seagull wants to know our intentions, are we bound for Arbroath? I confirm that this is the case and that we do not intend to stray into the wind farm. The guy is professional and cordial, so I thank him for his attention and we sail on our way. Below is an image of our track, quite where he thought we might be going I don’t know.

Over the next few hours the wind steadily drops and backs until by 1400hrs we are goose-winging with a southerly breeze dead behind us, we are slow but it’s OK, we were quick at the start of the day and we are still on time. By 1600hrs we are approaching Arbroath, the wind has backed all the way to north easterly and we are wafting along in about 6kts of breeze which gradually fades away to zero, but we are fine, Arbroath is in sight, we can motor the last mile and a half.

Obviously it would be ridiculous to sail all this way without incident and so it is that out of a lovely blue sky, and with no warning it blows 27kts for 10 minutes, just to keep us keen.

With sails stowed and the engine running we manoeuvre to my approach waypoint in preparation for our approach to the harbour. The pilot book has warned about the many crab pots on the approach, and we later discovered that there are thirty thousand pots (or creels as they are known locally) off Arbroath! Cromer crabbers, you’re amateurs!

Our approach waypoint is called Arbroath LL, with LL standing for leading lines. Many harbours have leading lines to help with your approach, two prominent features on shore, which if kept aligned by the helmsman will deliver you safely to the harbour entrance. I have resisted using most of the leading lines up here because they are often a bit obscure, “align the post box on Hastings Road, with the gothic arched window at St Kedd’s”. Arbroath’s leading lines, two bright white posts, are the best that I have ever seen, and with these aligned we can approach the harbour with absolute confidence.

*I went off track so you can get the idea.*

As we motor through the gate the harbour master directs us to raft alongside a German yacht for half an hour while a Polish yacht departs, we can then move into his spot. Suddenly we are assailed with shouting and gesturing from the crew of Mischief , a boat is reversing towards us at quite some pace as we emerge from behind two moored wooden boats. They are oblivious, focussing on finding a spot to moor. There is no time to think, this could be a Baywatch moment, I decide on one of the Parker 275’s party tricks. Lots of power on, tiller to port to start the turn, a quick burst astern so she doesn’t gather too much speed, then another burst ahead to complete the turn and she’s round and out of trouble. Flamingo is very much a right handed boat, she won’t turn any where near as well to port because of the direction that the prop spins.

At this point an old boy working on one of the wooden spectator boats looks across and says ‘nice turn’, he’s right, it was a nice turn, but looking at the space available I doubt that I’d have attempted it had there been more time to think.

As we jill about waiting to raft up Mischief’s crew are a little envious, ‘I wish our boat would turn like that’.

It looks like we are going to be here a while, it is forecast to blow hard from the north for two days, and the raised sea state will last into Friday or even the weekend.

We have now had three challenging but successful sails since the RNLI incident, confidence in the engine is growing and we are beginning to believe in ourselves again. Tomorrow we need to start exploring Arbroath.

Anstruther

Fortunately for us, Anstruther is a lovely little harbour town that is also popular with holiday makers, and as a result is well served with restaurants, pubs and chippies. Fortunate because once again the wind howls and we are storm bound here for five nights.

Our time is easily filled with coastal walks along the lovely East Neuk of Fife coast, eastbound to Crail and westbound to Pittenweem and St Monans. The coast here is not too undulating so the cliff walks aren’t strenuous and the scenery is breathtaking. Pittenweem, Crail and St Monans are all highly recommended ports to visit in the pilot book, but at the moment, we are newbies on this coast and they look a bit much for us, maybe next time. To be fair to us, the authors of the excellent pilot book sail a bilge keeler, which will sit on a rougher bottom than Flamingo without damage, and the harbours all dry at low water revealing all manner of natural and man made hazards. Plus they are Scottish so they can speak the local lingo, which we cannae.

Obviously we can’t spend the whole time walking, eating out and in the pub and life aboard in Anstruther harbour brings some challenges. Most afternoons the fun fair starts with the attendant banging tunes. It appears that in the early afternoons the senior member of the fun fair community are in charge, so we are treated to Queen and AC/DC, we can tollerate this. I suspect that around 7.00pm the oldies adjourn to the pub and the youngsters take over, playing all manner of dance music who’s appeal eludes us. I hate to say it but the drums are definitely too loud, and you really can’t hear what they’re singing!

So when the rave starts, we head out for a walk around the harbour, calling at the pub or the outstanding Ox and Anchor Street Food bar, where they serve interesting dishes, prepared thoughtfully with local ingredients, and at bargain prices. Regrettably the dishes all have silly hipster names, I’ve come out to eat, if I wanted to have fun I’d go on the dodgems.

With winds at F7-8 forecast over two nights and days, life aboard becomes a bit abrasive. There is a swell that runs in from the outer harbour and that, combined with the noise and buffeting of the wind means that Flamingo is making a racket, and snubbing miserably against her lines. At one point the snubbing is so bad that it feels like she is going to rip her bow cleats out, this is far worse than being towed by the lifeboat. In the end, at 0100hrs I get up and rig our last resort, super light nylon warps which stretch really well, spiralled round a fender to further reduce the mysery. Flamingo’s purser has now granted outline planning permission for a trip to the chandlery to purchase some nylon anchorplait lines, and possibly some of those rubber snubbers like the ones you can get at Anne Summers.

There are only so many ways that you can entertain yourself in a small harbour town, and cliff walks in a gale soon lose their appeal. So we jumped on the bus for day trips to St Andrews and Dundee. St Andrews is a beautiful and historic university town, spotlessly clean, full of architectural gems, and trendy independent shops. It even smells nice, although there is the distinct odour of golf towards the north end. We got window seats in a nice little cafe for lunch where it appeared that we had gained some form of notariety, as every group of American or Chinese tourists that passed stopped to take our photo. We later discovered that the cafe is famous for being the place where William met Kate.

Lovely though it was, St Andrews just had a feeling of being a bit too nice and having a bit too much privilege, there were too many signs keeping the proletariat in order for my liking.

On the subject of signs, this one in Pittenweem prompted a great deal of philosophical thought.

Obviouly don’t let your dog shit outside my house, reasonable; tenant is a witch, fair enough; but if you can only park your car where you live, it’s usefulness surely becomes diminished, meaning that there is no value in car ownership, so covetting parking spaces is futile………..

Dundee was rather simpler. Great architecture, fascinating museum, Wetherspoons, and the Dandy originated there. Plus, in the lee of the buildings it was only blowing F4, and it was flat calm in Spoons.

By the Friday there is a significant improvement in the weather so we plan to depart early the following morning, but where to?

It is now the fifth of July and we were originally planning to meet Clive & Debbie in Fort William four days ago, we are behind schedule. We don’t need to have the boat back to Norfolk until the end of September, but as we are discovering, this is an unforgiving coast even in mid summer. There is also no doubt that our confidence has been shaken by the tow, and it is demanding to be on an unknown coast, visiting new stone harbours with rocky approaches.

For a number of reasons we have decided to abandon the plan and as far as it is possible there will be no new plan. We will sail where we want, when we want, weather permitting. We both notice that with this pressure removed we feel happier and more relaxed about the whole enterprise. The west coast will have to wait until another year, it is the turn of the east coast this year.

I have read that the Japanese wish to see Mt Fuji at least once in their lifetime. To achieve this they will travel from their homes and wait to see Mt Fuji across a lake at sunrise. Often however, when the sun rises there is fog on the lake and they are unable to see the mountain. In our Western culture we would be disappointed, we want to see it, tick the box, buy the t-shirt and go home to tell our friends that we have ‘done’ Mt Fuji. But the eastern culture is different, the Japanese are happy that they didn’t see the mountain, because it means that they still have the excitement of expectation to live with for next time.

This is the philosophy that we will try to adopt, and with the pressure of expectation lifted from our shoulders we can enjoy what we are doing, rather than lamenting what we are not.

Next episode, actual sailing, but to where?

Back to Sea

Remaining in Eyemouth indefinitely isn’t really an option for us, at some point we need to get over our fears and get back out there. With an inshore waters forecast of variable F3 or less, and PassageWeather suggesting 0 to 10kts, mainly NW we should be able to make Anstruther, only using the engine for exiting and entering ports. We are tide constrained at both ends and choose to go at 1000hrs, HW Eyemouth, this means that we should be able to get into Anstruther from 1940hrs but with a six hour window after that if we’re late, although I don’t fancy an unknown drying harbour with a rocky approach in the dark.

The first challenge is to get off the pontoon, we are moored against the pontoon right in the middle of a 3×3 raft. It’s the kind of challenge that I relish, but everybody else has had the same idea and by 1000hrs the raft has all but disappeared.

From our spot on the pontoon, through the fishing harbour, down ‘the canyon’, past the dredger and out between the rocks to the Blind Buss cardinal buoy is half a mile.

With some maneuvering time, we need the engine to run reliably for 20 to 30 minutes before we can sail ourselves out of trouble. If it overheats during this time we are in deep, deep trouble; our only bail out option will be to try to sail back into the harbour under genoa. I joke with the harbour staff that I can sail back in without hitting any boats too hard, their eyes all turn to a 44ft boat in front of Flamingo that has charged round the harbour like a bull in a china shop (there but for the grace of God go I), even hitting our immediate neighbour the beautiful S&S.

Of course the engine does run without overheating and we are soon underway, fetching North towards St Abbs Head under double reefed main and half of the rolled genoa.

The first log entry of the day, written by Belinda records the events so far, concluding with ‘feeling very emotionally fragile!!!’, I’ve added ‘me too!!!’

Clearing St Abbs Head is our first objective and this is all new to us, the cliffs drop into the sea and continue dropping, depths only metres from the cliff bottom are 30m to 50m. In theory you can cut the corner, right under the Cliffs, and many of the local fishing boats are doing so, but the Eyemouth HM has warned us that not all of the rocks are charted. I have placed a waypoint about a mile off and we pass that in about 70m of water, we are not in the mood for risk taking.

While I am resting, preparing food or working on nav in the cabin I may be called on deck by the crew, who will use the agreed codeword, ‘Phill’. The urgency of the call is determined by the tone of the crew’s voice. On this occasion it is clear that I need to arrive on deck before the P in P.H.I.L.L has been completed. The depth sounder is reading 2.8m! We really don’t need this. Back to the chart table, check and recheck our position on the paper chart, the charted depth is 70m with no obstructions or wrecks. Onto the navionics app on the tablet, exactly the same. There is no shoal water within a mile of us, but the sounder continues to read between 2m and 10m depth. I have read about the Royal Navy playing silly buggers shadowing yachts in submarines, but Faslane is 106 miles away, overland, plus at 2.8m I suspect that there would be a significant black conning tower looming over us (should have checked SUBFACTS on the Navtex). We can only conclude that the water is too deep for the sounder, it is rated to 100m though.

Once round St Abbs Head we start tacking NW, dead into the wind, towards Anstruther. On an extended beat like this I mount the spare, handheld Garmin GPS in the cockpit because is shows VMG (Velocity Made Good, or how fast you are actually travelling towards your destination). Using VMG helps to show which tack is favourable, enabling you to make a quicker and more efficient passage. On Port tack our VMG hovers around 1kt, and on Starboard, 1kt. So with 26NM to sail we face the prospect of arriving at two O’clock tomorrow afternoon, not in time to watch England vs Slovakia this evening with our friends who have driven to Anstruther in their camper van.

A note for Navionics aficionados, that tide arrow needs reversing, we were getting crucified by the tide.

Crew meeting. At some point we need to run this engine for an extended period, why not now? There are no strong winds forecast, we have stacks of sea-room and there is a marginal anchoring option at our destination. Plus, and this is important, we have spoken to Jim, the Anstruther HM and he sounds friendy and keen to help, we are sailing towards friends, on an unknown coast.

My heart is in my mouth, with ears accutely attuned to the exhaust note for the next two hours and 40 minutes as we break the back of the passage, past the RSPB nature reserve on the Isle of May and on towards Anstruther. I restrict the speed to 5kts and the engine performs faultlessly.

The AIS comes in handy again as we approach a commercial vessel that appears to be anchored in our path, if it is at anchor we can pass close by it. Something however doesn’t feel right, she isn’t lying to the wind or the tide. Belinda Checks the AIS which shows that the Eagle Brasilia is ‘underway, using engine’ and making just 1.7kts. That’s cool, we can pass safely under her stern.

Belinda checks his ‘rate of turn’ while I crack out the binoculars, its a good job I did. On his deck I spot a tank with the letters LNG painted on the side, LNG is Liquefied Natural Gas. The marine authorities are very keen for these vessels to avoid any kind of collision or other fracas, to the extent that they have an exclusion zone around them. In my head the exclusion zone is either 1km, or 1NM, we can easily avoid him by passing astern by 1NM. I suppose that I should know the size of the exclusion zone, but here is a gap in my knowledge that needs plugging. We tried to pass too close to one of these in the Thames estuary last season and they gave us a warning blast on the horn, which is so much better than a bollocking on Ch16 for everybody to hear,

By the time we have completed this manoeuvre we are 5NM from Anstruther, we have two and a half hours to fill, and the football is about to start. So with a single reef in the main we potter to our destination while listening to England’s imperious victory.

Its not been a vintage day for new wildlife, we have seen loads of puffins, razorbills and gannets but no mammals at all. The gannets are so effortlessly elegant and groups of them on passage always divert to have a look at Flamingo making swooping fly-pasts. I have promoted gannets to be my favourite sea-birds, at the same time as creating a new category of wader, so that oyster catchers can still be my number one too. The crew favours puffins, I like the fact that they are pretty and cute but can’t forgive them being so useless.

With extra time still playing out in Germany the engine goes on again and we work our entry, using the waypoints and CTE technique that is working so well for us. Following Harbour Master Jim’s instructions we enter the outer harbour, hard a port by the lighthouse, follow close to the wall into the inner harbour, hard a starboard and then, in the absence of any harbour staff, we allocate ourselves the drying berth that will become our home for nearly a week.

Clive and Debbie have arrived earlier in the day in their land-yacht and are on the quay to greet us with a bottle of bubbly. We used to meet up on motorcycles, light fires and drink cheap beer by the bucket load, how things change.

What Jim hasn’t mentioned to us is that the visitor moorings are directly below the visiting fun-fair on the quay, I have a very difficult relationship with the concept of fun, and the idea of other people having fun so close by leaves me a little uncomfortable. Escaping the fun we have a pleasant walk on the quay, followed by a couple of excellent local beers, in the equally excellent New Ship Tavern. Arriving in a new port is one of the great joys of sailing, we like Anstruther already, and we’ve found a good pub in Scotland.

Good old Flamingo has looked after us again and her engine has performed as we would hope, it’s not a conclusive end to our problems but it’s a start. Maybe we’re getting our mojo back, or maybe I’m tempting fate.

*Looking towards Anstruther inner harbour*

After breakfast the following morning I start exploring the quay, as I pass the RNLI station I greet a local chap who tells me, with great pride, that their new Shannon Class lifeboat has just arrived, did I want to see it. Not really chap, I’ve seen one before. I actually said yes and cooed over it for a few minutes.