31^st June – 22^nd July

It was 4am as we sailed into the Kyle of Tongue, the sky (which never really got dark) went from dark grey, to light grey, and my grandparent´s house became visible through the drizzle just across the bay. We ate beans on toast, and slept. By the time we woke up and my grandparents had come to the beach, grandma had to be told she wasn’t allowed to swim to the boat, so we paddled to shore  and ate celebratory chocolate cake with them.

Our first anchorage was in Talmine, a tiny Crofting and fishing village bang in the middle of the North coast of Scotland, where Niels bravely put on goggles and flippers (and nothing else) to check our two anchors weren´t entangled, but only made it to the ladder before deciding that the anchors were probably fine. Due to storms and North-Westerly wind we decided to stay in Talmine for a couple of days before attempting to enter the beautiful, but crumbling old harbour at my grandparent house.

Over the next 11 days we stayed in Tongue. We sailed over the bay between Talmine and Scullomie “the wrong way” and into the 18^th century harbour at the bottom of my grandparents land, though not before I swam in it in the rain, conveniently I am the same height as our keel… We also careened Atlanta for the first time (which meant beaching the boat on the sand and leaning against the harbour wall) which was quite scary! We actually did this three times. The first time a fisherman warned us not to until next week because of strong swell. We did it that night, and there was swell but it was manageable. The second time was to give my grandparents a tour, and the third to change our zinc anode on the propeller, which had completely dissolved in 7 months!

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To the wild mountain sheep

Who just stared and didn’t bleat

Once we´d walked past, it was you who laughed last

As our feet squelched into the peat

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It rained allot, but was incredibly gemütlich in my grandparent’s house, full of plants and peat smoke, sage, old paintings, instruments and swords. Niels was thrilled to get the welder off the boat to fix the lawnmower, and I recorded a song with my grandma.

By the 11^th of July, almost all of our post had arrived, and it was time to set sail again. With our valuables in dry bags, my guitar and a beautiful plant from grandfather not in dry bags, jars of hummus, wild garlic pesto and a bag full of garden vegetables we paddled out into the wind and rain my grandfather watching on in disbelief that we would leave on a day like this.

Our first destination, Cape Wrath, which was as lovely as it sounds. The name “Wrath” comes from the Vikings and means ´turning point´, which is exactly what we did before we got there, and instead sheltered from the wind and waves in Loch Eriboll with two other boats before attempting again in a couple of days after the storms passed. It was so beautiful staying in a sheltered little cove which had a tidal river full of tiny crabs, leading to a tiny old fishing harbour with 2 houses and a couple of boats. We walked up the hills surrounding the loch past sheep and into peat bogs, trying to get high enough to be in the sunshine. There where speckled wild orchids like ones we saw in Norway,  star shaped moss in big spongy pillows, some pink, some green, and bright yellow flowers created vibrant contrast in the otherwise muted greens and browns of the landscape. If you look again however, the heather with its soft purples and pinks, colours in the sides of the mountains, rustling like tiny bells as the hollow flowers nestle into each other in the wind.

The 13^th July was sunny and warm as we sailed around the cape to North-West Scotland, eventually anchoring by a big white sandy beach. In the morning there was good wind, and we sailed out between many little islands, zigzagging in order to get through the narrow entrances against the wind. At one point we got way too close to some rocks and had to throw the engine on…

Our first mooring, our first Scottish pub, and our first man overboard was in Loch Gairloch. We drank a local pale ale which had a sheep on the logo, and when we got back to the dingy I stepped directly into the water instead of the boat.

On the 16^th we sailed 54 miles in 12hrs, in the rain. My leg was really painful from the misadventure the previous night, and I stayed mostly indoors while Niels sailed on.  I had managed to get some ingredients for a “chocolate cherry and blueberry birthday cake” for Niels in the only shop for 100´s of miles which has some hilariously bad Google reviews, and was totally chaotic. There were no cherries, but by some miracle there were some packets of blueberries that weren’t as mouldy as the others…

On Niels´s birthday we zigzagged 15 miles to Mallaigore through the channel between Skye and Scotland.  Our anchorage was in a little bay with a pebble beach surrounded by high hills with ruins, there were willow trees and forests of ferns that we managed to get completely lost in.  Niels made a stockbrot and we toasted it over a driftwood fire, loving the sunset and cursing the midges. As we paddled back to the boat, the water glowed brightly and we were surrounded by bioluminescent plankton! We danced our hands through the water scattering sparkles of light, happy birthday Niels!

Our VHF radio, or as we call it in German “Funkgerät” which sounds way cooler, lets us listen to local shipping forecasts and speak to other boats. It´s mostly used by ferries for communication in and out of ports, but can be used to send distress signals or information between boats. We have had two exciting interactions so far. The first was from Royal Navy Warship to Atlanta- informing us that we have sailed into a restricted area, Niels responded quickly and we changed course, not before he had accidentally called them Nato warship three times. There was a huge military operation going on, we could see submarines, and another poor sailing boat that clearly didn’t get the memo and had sailed right into the middle of it all and was being circled by a helicopter.

Our second interaction was at midnight when a distress call was sent on channel 16 , a small sailing boat  had  a broken engine and was drifting towards the rocks at Ardmore point (where we had just passed and had wondered what on earth they were doing!) We turned around and picked them up, towing them on our side. Eventually a lifeboat turned up and was eager to help so we detached ourselves and went on to an ankerplatz , and watched them get towed to Tobemory harbour. After waking up surrounded by seals in our peaceful anchorage which also happened to be a fish farm, lucky seals, we went into Tobemory and were greeted by Julie from the boat rescue last night who gave us a bottle of local whiskey, and told us about their engine; their fly-wheel had ironically, flown off, and all the screws where broken inside… apparently a mechanic could only come in a week…

 Enter Niels, lover of projects on engines that aren’t his own, WD-40 and angle grinding. A combination of all three meant that the engine was fixed in a couple of hours, just in time for us to drink some beers and go to the local Ceilidh!  This was so much fun, Julie and John knew the dances and we completely improvised. At one point a man said to Niels “that was an interesting interpretation of the Waltz”. He didn’t even know it was a Waltz. The people were very merry, and showed support when Niels eventually  got kicked out for being a “health and safety hazard” for not wearing shoes. A lad called Jason even gave Niels his shoes, but the bar maid was having none of it, and once Niels had argued that the drunk people playing darts where more of a health and safety hazard, and that it was discrimination, we went back to our new friends boat and had another beer. We took a detour via the Co-op bins before going home, and ended up paddling with 76 bananas from Ghana in our dingy, at 4am.

The next couple of days were our last in the Scottish isles. By the 22^nd July we had sailed another 64 miles to Port Ellen on the Isle of Islay. On the way we encountered currents between 5-6 Knots, which swept us along at 11 knots at one point! (Normally we can do maximum 7.3 Knots) We saw dolphins and harbour porpoises, ate allot of bananas, and watched the last of the mountains get smaller and smaller. In 12 days we sailed the 404 miles from my grandparents to Northern Ireland.