We are in a place called Portavadie avoiding another gale warning. This place is entirely man-made but will become a leisure destination of choice for the moneyed set from Glasgow, I'm sure.  It will probably take a couple of liquidations before it is complete, but meanwhile 20 pounds a night for 5 star facilities isn't to  be sneezed at.

The Crinan canal was interesting. Very turbulent in the ascending locks. And one has to do it all by hand, apart from the sea locks which we are not to be trusted with. Janet worked hard! Off to the Island of Arran tommorrow.

My weather-induced depression has started to lift - it is like the Med here today. First picture is Dunstaffnage on Sunday evening when Janet arrived. It was cold - very cold - but calm, then yesterday it blew force seven, occasionally eight, so we stayed put.

Today has been lovely, a nice force four, occasionally five, sea very pleasant, great sail down to Craobh (pronounced Croove, or thereabouts). One dolphin, one seal.

Craobh is a funny little place, a street of new-ish twee cottages and a pub. It was only 25 miles this morning so we were here by lunch time. Funny old thing, they had beer in the pub so we had to sit out on the terrace in the sun. Glorious. Just what sailing should always be like!

This is Dunstaffnage, just north of Oban. Looking at this you could be forgiven for thinking it's nice up here. It's not. It is freezing and has been blowing quite well today, and chucking in a few showers for good measure. They're predicting frost tonight. Janet tells me it is 21 degrees in Teignmouth.  And sunny. People are enjoying themselves at the river beach,  listening to live music outside the Ship, and generally having a good time. Here, people have been hudlled in shops where there are hot air blowers at the doors and children have been told to just shut up and make the best of it. Dogs have sought shelter under public benches, tangling their leads round the seat legs, which has been quite funny. Paticularly when the big alastian tried to eat the little scottie, but couldn't reach and nearly choked on his collar. Deserved it, too. Funnily enough, I didn't see a single cat. All tucked up in the warm, I expect. Might come back as a cat, if I'm allowed.

I hope I get the chance to do one of these long trips  again but next time I'm going south.  They might have decent wifi there too. I am standing on the top of the boat in a biting wind trying to get a signal. Who ever suggested a blog? Am I mad? Sadly, you can only comment if you are signed up to Google and have an account with them. Another erosion of personal freedom, but that's a subject for another blog and another time.

Today Jojac is in Loch Aline (pronounced as Alan), where the beach is pure white sand just like a tropical paradise. The water still has the deep peaty brown colour though so you don't quite get the Indian Ocean effect. It's not very warm either. Nonetheless, very pretty.

The sand is pure silica - one of the purest sources in the world, apparently - and is mined from under the hills and exported by sea. The mine was developed in WW2 as the silica was needed for high quality glass for periscopes and bomb sights. It had previously come from Belgium until old Adolf intervened. Not content with putting his towels on the beach, he wanted the sand as well. Typical Hun trick, as my role model Captain Mainwaring would say.

The road to the village (one pub, one shop and a restaurant which looked good but was fully booked for months ahead) goes through the mine which is quite interesting.

It was a very short passage from Tobermory, just 14 miles, but I had the wind in the right direction (just abaft the beam) and strength (top end of a force 6 some of the time) so for the first time on this trip actually managed to sail fast in the direction I wanted to go. 7 knots at times. Today there's little wind so it will an engine trip over to Dunstaffnage - also a short trip, about 16 miles.From there it's a bus to Oban (3 miles) and hire car to Glasgow to collect Janet from the airoprt.

Before I left Tobermory I changed my mind about my next boat. This one has sails too. The owner wasn't aboard but I learnt from his crew that his last boat was a Fisher, so there is hope for me yet.

And if we were to get a dog, it would have to be like this:

Hands up if you let out a big "Aaaaaah" at this point.

 And finally, Thomson Cruises were in Tobermory as I left. The grockles were streaming ashore via the ship's boats, ready to see the sights of Mull in their air conditioned coaches. Amazingly, given the rain and wind, most had no coats, nor even umbrellas, etc., so I guess they weren't planning to get out and actually feel the place.

A shot in the dark, for those familiar with Peter Sellers and the Pink Panther films.

Well, I have returned to what I like to call Tobermory, where the sun is sort of shining and the rain has stopped for a moment or two. And what a good job Janet and I came here three weeks ago. The distillery has now been closed for replacement of the pot stills, which involves removing the roof, so is shut for tours. Thank goodness we did the tour when we came here at the beginning of the month. And what a shame that the bottle of 12 year old malt I bought then has evaporated.

This first pic is looking out to sea from Mallaig harbour at the weekend - not entirely pleasant.

 And here is the sort of very personalised ferry service you can expect round here:

This afternoon, whilst rounding Ardnamurchan Point, often claimed to be the western-most mainland point of the UK, I had a lovely dolphin escort. Probably the best escort service in the area, but further research may be needed.

 And here is Tobermory in a little bit of afternoon sun:

This is my next boat, a Nordhavn 63. It doesn't have sails, but if I can afford the £3 million price tag I probably won't worry too much about the fuel cost. 75p a litre in the Hebrides, by the way.

 And finally, I leave you with news of a local fisherman who realised he'd just left his wife behind. Annette.

I am back im Mallaig where I shall be stuck until Tuesday at least. Gale bound (again!). What happened to the summer?

Yesterday I hired a car and explored Lewis and Harris. Today I am heading off to sea as it has calmed a bit and there is a short window of opportunity to get south before the next gale. That said, the Met Office has issued a strong wind warning for this area today (which it hadn't last night) so we'll have to see what it's like. But if I don't go now I'll be here for another week.

The Vikings came in yesterday. The lifeboat behind them is 56 feet long so their longboat must be 80 - 100 feet. Quite substantial. They only came in for a short visit, it doesn't take long to do a spot of pillaging.

Here are my Lewis and Pix:

 

 Glorious beach near the north of Harris:

The sea at the Butt of Lewis, which counter-intuitively is the top, not the bottom:

Peat still being dug on Lewis:

The old black house at Arnol:

The estate agent's blurb would have been interesting. Here is the main living/dining area. No-one had thought of chimneys at this point. Or maybe the smoke saved them money on fags. I'll bet it killed the midges though.

The master bedroom (note en-suite under the chair):

And the guest bedroom, guests being mostly bovine:

The standing stones at a rather misty Calanais (Callanish):

Harris is more rugged than Lewis:

The web is back so I can post some photos. First of all, here are the ones from the weekend, with the Canadian pipers on the pontoon and a few of the carnival (note the determination of the little ones to perform their dance despite the rain). Perfect for those with fond memories of Miss Rosemary's School of Dance (anyone who isn't from Devon won't get that reference, but you're not missing anything).

Today followed the familiar pattern of rain, followed by a little more rain, and then a bit of rain to close. Nonetheless, I managed to wade ashore to a splendid shop selling Harris tweed, both in made-up form (jackets, kilts, etc.) and, more importantly, by the length. It was the most amazing tweed shop I have ever been in. Dating from  the seventeenth century, it has survived wars of independence, rebellion, and secession, as well as a visit from Price Andrew. I made a few small purchases, the full nature of which I am unable to disclose for fear of spoiling the surprise. Those anticipating a view of my sporran will, however, not be disappointed.

Finally, for those of you who have not yet been fortunate to spend any time aboard Jojac, a couple of photos from within. The first is the wheelhouse at night, the second is looking forward in the main cabin (also at night*) - as it rains here all day, I have found it beneficial to become nocturnal). The bit right at the front, past the doors on the right, is the forecabin where there are two bunks, one either side - sleeping and storage only.The main cabin is the primary living area in harbour and in estate agent terminology would be a "bijou living/dining/culinary experience, with all mod cons laid out for maximum convenience. Deceptively spacious, and with uninterrupted sea views, this property deserves early viewing...." At sea the wheelhouse is the place to be, or the aft cockpit if it isn't raining (final pics, showing a) enthusiastic and b) less enthusiastic crew back on the London leg of the trip.


* Those with good vision (and nothing else to do) may notice the clock says 2.44 (a.m.).

Off on a jaunt tomorrow as a gale is forecast so I have hired a car.

I had hoped to put up some pix of the weekend's festivities, which included both the official opening of the new pontoons and the Lewis carnival procession. It all happens here. The former involved a visiting Canadian pipe band - six times world champions, no less - whilst the latter included some tractors, a fire engine and people dressed as the famous Viking chessmen but with a twist - they were on all-terrain segways. Unfortunately the wifi has gone down and I am posting this via my very slow Vodafone connection (there is no 3G here), so no photos. I will save them for another day.

We had a bit of a storm last night, and it rained right through into this afternoon. When I ventured out again, two very knowledgeable locals advised me that, "the whind was noo in the north, there'l be nae more rain". If the met office is reading this, don't employ them. It is now pissing down.

I wonder if that's why, after three days of exemplary service, the local internet is off? That happened at home. A very nice chap in Bangalore explained patiently to me that I was obviously an idiot with no understanding of the internet or computers. Although quite insulting, he tried really hard to be very nice about it, having done the training. Clearly it couldn't be a BT fault, the computer said so, so it must be our computer or just me. Eventually I managed to speak to someone in the UK who sent an engineer round and funny old thing they found the big junction box on the corner was full of water and all the wires had rotted. The man was amazed that we'd even been able to ring up with our complaint as technically there was no way the phone should have worked.

If you haven't seen the pictures on the Beeb of the flooding and water damage round these parts it's worth a look. I can't give you a link as I can't get onto the BBC website (it has pictures, which bring the Vodafone thing to a halt).

More storms to come. I can do a bus tour of the islands but have to wait a few days until the ferry comes. If I catch the public bus I can go round the main island in two hours if I don;t get off. If I get off at the Callanish standing stones I may have to wait three hours for the next bus. There's a limit to my interest in standing stones, particularly when it's pouring with rain. If it was a sunny day it might be different, but they are forecasting the next sunshine for sometime in 2015.

I am thinking I might hire a car, but, based on my experiences so far,  I think I can predict that they will only be available on Thursdays between 0545 and 0715, and then only if you passed your test in Scotland.

I haven't been able to get any internet for a few days but have now got an excellent connection in Stornoway, which is in the Outer Hebrides - thanks Google for this map:

I left Mallaig on Monday evening and only went a few miles, over the sea to Skye (as the song goes) where I anchored in a little bay called Isleornsay (so called because it lies behind an island called Ornsay, funnily enough). Not much there, but it was peaceful, and the scenery was good. Midges were buggers though.

 On Tuesday I negotiated Kyle Rhea, which is a very narrow gap between Skye and the mainland and through which the tide can run at 8 knots. When that is happening you don't want to be going against it (you can't, basically) or even with it as it can create quite rough water. So you time it to go through on the beginning of the tide. Four yachts had clearly done our own calculations and came up with an answer within 10 minutes of each other, so we almost went through in convoy. I had 4 knots of tide with me and Jojac was doing 6 of her own so we whizzed through at 10 knots. Oddly enough, there was a  German yacht just starting through the other way. Assuming the skipper wasn't totally incompetent, the only reason for such bizarre behaviour is the sailing equivalent of the poolside towel syndrome. Athough he will take 5 hours to get through the gap, he will still get to Mallaig, where the number of pontoon berths is limited, before the more sensible Brits who wait for the afternoon tide.

Immediately after Kyle Rhea came the Skye Bridge, pictured above, and then I made my way up to the little island of Fladday, where I had planned to anchor for the night and have dinner with friends on the island. One should never plan; inevitably the wind piped up from the south, to which the anchorage there is exposed, so I went back over to Skye and picked up a buoy for the night (buoy with a U, please note). I made it back to Fladday on Wednesday day in lovely conditions, and had a great day exploring the wilderness as well as being generously fed and watered by John and Arlette Cater, who have a cottage on Fladday. Theirs is number 3. The other two are 4 and 5. I'm sure there is a logic there somewhere. Pix below show calm seas out of Portree, the stunning cliffs of Skye, and Jojac anchored close to John Cater's Fisher Potter (the red one).

I went back over to Portree on Wednesday evening for another night on the buoy (one is never enough) and rowed ashore for a traditional Scottish Indian - everywhere else was shut. Thursday dawned, as it so often does, and I set off in calm and sunny conditions. A lovely classic schooner was struggling to make any headway under sail as there was no wind at all. Within minutes the viz was zero due to rain and the wind was 32 knots - that's almost a gale. The raindrops were the size of small cats, but the wind was going my way so I put out more sail and went with it. No choice really. The wind dropped to about a force five. which was better, and almost what they had forecast. I passed a fairly spectacular waterfall, 50 metres high, which you wouldn't want to go down in a barrel as it ends on rocks. As you can see from the photo, the sea was quite calm despite the wind - I was still in the shelter of Skye.

As I came out from Skye and crossed the Minch it got rather bouncy, which I had expected and wasn't disappointed.Then the wind picked up again, back to 32 knots, and the seas were running straight up from the south west, with the rollers breaking under the boat. So I just surfed along, picked up like a toy and dumped back down again, for the rest of the way to Stornoway, where I arrived a couple of hours ahead of schedule due to some periods of 8 knot passage thanks to the wind. Once in the harbour life got a little clamer and I was able to catch a glimpse of a seal which has obviously worked out how to order online.

Stornoway has just installed new pontoons, which are excellent. Jojac is quite happy alongside here, which is just as well as the weather looks pretty grim for a few days. Funny old thing, all the restaurants here were shut by 9 pm - even the Thai had to check the kitchen was still open at 9 30 (when their sign said open til 11). They were, and it was welcome.

 Today was the Tattoo, with bagpipe music all day and fireworks tonight.

Tomorrow is carnival night, and during the day there is a party to formally open the new pontoons. Free drinks all round.

Finally, I will leave you with this image. Those of a sensitive disposition should proceed no further. I leave it to you to determine what makes a dog happy round here. All I can say is that there are some pooches with very contented little smiles. And some owners too.