Sanda Island - 15 to 16 June 2006 (day 26-27)

Yacht Gothik

At Anchor

Sanda Island

Argyll & Bute

16 June 2006

Click here to see a map.

Logged distance: 79M

Chart distance: 86M

Time under way: 16h 30m

Thursday 15 June 2006

Yet another lazy day as we let the time slip by for a late afternoon departure. You must think I plan these departure times so we have a lazy day before setting out. That is not entirely true. Basically I look at the distance, calculate roughly how long it will take given the wind and sea conditions and then refer to the tidal atlas and pilot books. In general I try to work out the best time to arrive at the destination and work backwards from this to get the departure time.

Arrival times are often influenced by the tide - slack water usually being good as it is one less thing to think about when fine tuning a course for landfall. High tide slack water even better as the bottom is a bit further away from the boat. Just after high tide is not a great idea because if you do touch bottom and get stuck the boat will be stranded for a long time and possibly damaged. Arriving when it is dark is one to be avoided. Arriving shortly after daybreak is good for a couple of reasons; first of all you have had the benefit of knowing where you are using various lighthouses and lit buoys (in a single area each light has a different flash sequence and/or colour, all marked on the chart); secondly everyone on board tends to be naturally awake, excited at seeing land and ready to handle the boat into a berth or anchorage. Arriving too long after daybreak and people tend to get tired, bored or hungry as mealtimes are postponed pending arrival.

From the arrival time and the estimated time under way I use the tidal atlas to calculate the amount of push and drag from the tide over the course of the trip. The estimate for this trip was 18 hours. 18 hours is a nice length as one can often work the tide to get two pushes; there being two high tides and two low tides a day, the direction of water flow changing therefore every six hours, 18 hours of trip divided by 6 hours for each tide gives 3 changes of direction - i.e. two pushes and one drag (or two drags and one push if you really want). The tidal atlas gives not only the direction of flow for each hour before and after high water but also the speed of flow. Indeed, the tidal atlas goes a little further and gives the speed of flow for both neap tides and for spring tides - the spring tide being the stronger (often by a lot) occurring roughly twice a month, usually a few days after the full and new moons. Knowing the direction and speed of the tide allows one to adjust the trip time. In this case one of the 6 hour pushes is cancelled out by the 6 hour drag leaving a further 6 hours of tide in our favour - some of which is at 2 knots, most of which is less than 1 knot - giving roughly 16 and a half hours underway.

For tomorrow, the best time to arrive according to tide happened to be around 0900 BST which suited us well for daybreak, daylight, mealtimes, etc.. It also made for a nice easy departure time of 1630 today. Lazy, lazy, lazy day, reading, snoozing...

At the planned departure time we cast off our mooring which was about one and a half hours into the ebb (i.e. an hour and a half after high tide). For a bit of excitement I thought it would be interesting to pass through Calf Sound with a bit of tide running since the sea state was so smooth. Calf Sound is a narrow channel between the Isle of Man and a small island called the Calf of Man. The channel has some rocks and islets in it but is easily navigable with the navigable part being 100m wide. Halfway through the ebb (3 hours after high tide) the current runs quite fast with many overfalls (areas of disturbance). We would be passing through it an hour before the stream reaches full strength but even so it will be running through quite rapidly. The idea was to get a bit of experience of this kind of thing as it would be common in Scotland and, other than the water around Skomer, I've not encountered much of this before.

As it happened it was great fun. The stream was running around 3 knots (according to the difference between the GPS 'speed over ground' and our log speed). Gothik would get a good rocking horse motion in some of the overfalls. After being ejected out of the sound she veered sharply to one side as we crossed a huge upwelling mass of water. Nothing felt dangerous but I wouldn't like to contemplate it in a rough sea. As the helmsman, it was a little like running a rapid - a strange sensation in a sail boat - I could feel the rudder being kicked.

Out of Calf Sound we trimmed sail and settled down for our routine of watches and set course for a point about 6 nautical miles WSW of the Mull of Galloway. The chart showed this to be the southern tip of a deep area of water known as Beaufort's Dyke. It being 260 metres deep this is easily the deepest water encountered so far. The wind was very light and was forecast to get lighter.

Just after dinner Keith shouted "Whale!" - I doubt it was a whale but it certainly was a very large animal, maybe 6 or 7 metres long. We could see a large black almost floppy dorsal fin followed by a vertical sharp pointed tail fin. It was traveling very slowly at the surface with none of its back showing. A Basking Shark maybe? We also saw more dolphins passing by, they deciding not to join us. Next; lo-and-behold, a Mackerel - at close range, on the end of the fishing line! We caught a fish! Or should I say Ben caught a fish - it was all his due diligence and experimentation that landed us this first fish. Mackerel are supposed to be so simple to catch - or so everyone kept telling us - however, no one would really volunteer any hard information as to how to catch one. The answer was always vague; "You just throw a line over and you'll get one...". Well its taken a long time but we got one. Now we'll just keep doing what we did and hopefully get some more. The fish was not very big though, we'll need about five of these to make any dinner fit for our appetites. It did look delicious though. I gutted it and Ben put the line back out.

Friday 16 June 2006

The wind whispered until it became nothing and the sea became flat calm. At midnight the engine was started, Keith and Ben retired to bed and I started my three hour watch. It was not fully dark yet, despite the clouds. I could still see an occasional exposed patch of yellowy-blue sky close to the horizon. By one o'clock it was just dark. The sea was giving a light show. Every now and then a patch of water, someway beneath the surface, would softly flash. I walked on deck, sat on the toe rail and dangled my feet close to the water. The phosphorescence in our bow wave was so luminous that my boots cast a shadow on the hull. I could see streaks of phosphorescence darting quickly away from the boat - fish I presume. By two o'clock the show was beginning to lose its drama as the first signs of light were edging their way behind a thin blanket of cloud. By three it was light. Ben and Keith emerged for their watch into a grey world. The sharp line of the horizon was softened by distance and moisture laden air, the grey sea merging with the grey sky.

By the time of my next watch at six o'clock we could see land - the Mull of Kintyre. The flag fairy had been, the Manx colours had been struck and we were now flying the bonnie flag of Scotland from our starboard spreader. The land grew bigger and bigger, almost imperceptibly until it was time to wake Keith and Ben. We were just off Sanda Island. Ben and Keith got the anchor ready and we dropped the hook at exactly 0900 in "Sanda Roads" about 100m from shore on the north side of the island. We did the usual things after a passage; tidied the boat, checked our lines and went to bed.

Sanda is an interesting little island; a site of special scientific interest (SSSI) one mile across, half a mile wide and home to many sea birds. It is also home to three people. Of further interest to those that choose to drop by is the Byron Darnton Tavern, a pub which now beckoned to us across the short stretch of water. It wasn't really the beer that was calling but the chance of lunch. We inflated the dingy and decided to have a look.

The pub was packed! Day trippers, it looked like a corporate outing, from Glasgow most likely. Lunch was being served but we would have to wait a while as they were rushed off their feet. Not wanting to hang around but feeling 'obliged' to have a beer we indulged ourselves with a packet of peanuts and a bag of crisps before setting off to explore the island on foot.

We walked up to the top of the hill and back down again. Not as many birds to be seen as on Skomer but on the way down we did spot a large number of seals basking at the waters edge. Creeping up close we sat and from our vantage point watched them for nearly an hour. They were far shier than I had expected. On our original approach we had disturbed a few and several had blubbered themselves off the rocks and into the water. There they stayed, looking at us looking at them. Many heads poking out of the still water. Eventually they got bored and headed out to sea.

The lighthouse was an impressive building. It stood next to a natural arch in the rock which we had been told was called the Elephant - I can't for the life of me think why. At the foot of the Elephant was a small bay and in the crystal clear water were more seals. It was fascinating to watch them dive and swim under water. What grace they lacked out of the water was fully made up when in it.

By the time we got back to our side of the island it was getting on for dinner time. I had spotted 'Giant Sanda Scallops' on the pub menu and was keen to try them so it was at the pub we stopped. Thankfully now the pub was empty but for two painter and decorators who were painting the lighthouse. What a job! What a lovely job. Left on a remote island without the cares and worries of crowds and populations - a remote island with a pub that sold scallops.

But it was a pub with no Giant Sanda Scallops - they had all been eaten by the lunchtime visitors. There were plenty of other things to choose from but I couldn't help thinking I'd missed something special. Being a Scottish pub the beer was not wonderful, the wine a disaster but they did have a large selection of old single malt whiskies. I can't say I'm overly keen on whisky but at times I do very much enjoy a single malt. Tonight they were most welcome. Keith is not a drinker of whisky so he stuck to his lager. Ben and I however decided to try a few and ordered a couple of drams. We ordered very different kinds of whisky; Ben the rich peaty ones and I the smooth malty ones. It was good - we were able to taste each others - double the experience but only half the volume. Splendid.

It was about this time we saw a notice saying there was a snooker table available. After asking at the bar we were escorted outside and into one of the farm buildings. Yes! A full sized, fully lit snooker table complete with all the paraphernalia; score board, cue rests, chalk holders and lots of other things I couldn't put a name to (not being a snooker player). Ben and Keith have their own pool table in a shed back at home so this was pretty familiar territory for them. It was a pleasure to watch them play. I partook in a game with Ben and managed somehow to stay in the lead until the last ball. I felt quite chuffed, Ben is pretty good - maybe it was the whisky, we were on our third. The 10 year old Glenfarclas being my favourite, the 17 year old Ardbeg being Ben's.

It was a surprise to see so many people in the bar. This was a popular place. Local folks turn up in their boats from as far away as Campbeltown (12 nautical miles). The first thing asked on entering was when high tide was. To this time the drinks flowed before they marched out of the bar with much laughter to catch the tide home. Fortunately we were not bound by the tide and were able to have another whisky or two - there were still enough people committed to staying on the island to offer us advice. The Glenfarclas and Ardbeg came with approving nods.

More pictures...

Looking NE from the pub; Gothik at anchor - Sheep Island in the background.

Click the picture to enlarge - the dots are the heads of seals. We were able to see them swimming quite clearly beneath the surface.

Remains of the old chapel on the island.

Sanda lighthouse - an impressive building - left in the charge of the painter and decorator's.

No lapse of concentration here - doing all I can to not get my backside whipped.