Crinan - 24 June 2006 (day 35)

Yacht Gothik

Canal Basin

Crinan

Argyll & Bute

24 June 2006

Click here to see a map.

Logged distance: 7M

Chart distance: 8.5M

Time under way: 5h30m

Saturday 24 June 2006

We awoke early hoping to get a good start through the canal while it was not too busy. When brushing our teeth and generally clambering on deck a Swedish boat, also berthed in the basin, asked what time we were leaving and if they could accompany us in the locks - "it would make it easier". Yes it most definitely would; "0830" I replied. Only the swing bridges and sea-locks are continuously manned and operated by canal staff, the remainder (aside from a little help from staff at the first lock) have to be operated by the boat crews. It was at eight thirty then that we and the Swedish boat cast off and headed up stream.

There was no wind and manoeuvring into the lock should have been easy, maybe I hadn't quite woken up yet - it went fine but things were not going as smoothly as I had imagined. Keith and Ben were getting mixed messages from me and the lock keeper ashore as how to best tie up in the lock. I don't remember anything being this difficult about the locks in Holland a couple of years ago. Was it me, the crew, the people helping out... For the moment I put the first lock down as a 'practice run' and hoped the next would be smoother.

The next lock was a lot easier. We were left to our own devices, the only people helping us now (other than ourselves) were the crew from the Swedish boat - who were tremendous. They had already passed through the canal the day before and knew what to expect. The sluices were opened a little more slowly, the turbulence was manageable. They suggested for the next lock that we should enter it after them. Gothik being a light boat and they being 45' with a heavy displacement meant there should be less problem drifting backwards in a fast flooding lock.

The third lock (after a swing bridge) was easier still. Now things felt like they were going well, time to enjoy the surroundings - and what surroundings they were. The sun was shining, the banks were lined with grasses and lilly's plus a large variety of trees. There were familiar sounds of summer but sounds we had not heard for many weeks - song birds singing close by and dogs barking in the distance.

While going through the locks Keith and I stayed on board - Keith on the bow, me in the cockpit. Ben went ashore to catch our lines, operate the sluices and open the gates. Ben volunteered for this - he had his work cut out! The gates were large and heavy. Not only had they to be opened but also closed, i.e. we would approach a lock, Ben would open the gates, we would motor in, Ben would catch our lines then close the gates behind us, open the sluices, wait for the water to rise, open the gates in front, cast our lines off, we would motor through, Ben would close the gates and sluices behind us (ready for the next boat) and then either jump on board or run to the next lock and repeat the cycle.

Admittedly, from time to time, Ben had a helping hand from the younger members of the Swedish boat - from our view point though it looked as though he was doing more than half the work.

Approaching the summit there was a rise of four locks all within the space of a few hundred metres. Keith and I were able to make tea and chat with the Swedish crew. Ben was probably getting hungry...

For Keith and I it was relaxing...

Ben was working...

...and working.

Sometimes with a little help.

Loch"No 9". The first lock on the way down.

A swing bridge complete with flower boxes.

A hundred metres before the bridge was a sign saying "Bridge Ahead - Sound Your Horn". We sounded it, it was deafening. Although in the picture it looks as though the bridge had not begun to open we barely had to reduce throttle. The bridge was hand operated - by a man frantically winding a handle. We thanked him well and he gave us a cheery wave.

There were a couple of places like this one along the canal. One especially interesting place (sorry no picture) was the abode of a waterside artist who had lined the bank with his paintings for sale.

A Clyde 'Puffer' in a sorry state of repair. These little steam ships used to carry cargo up and down the Firth of Clyde and to and from the Western Isles through the Crinan Canal. To my knowledge only a single Puffer is in working order today - the one pictured here is not it.

Despite the fine weather, the beautiful scenery; despite the company of a friendly Swedish boat; despite Ben's herculean efforts and Keith's work on the bow - by the time we had reached Crinan I'd had a bad day of it all. I was feeling a little down. My handling of the boat had not been good. The manoeuvring in tight spaces had made me uneasy, still in good temper but a little edgy. While dropping ben off on the quay side I had reversed away and stopped the boat a few metres from the quay, then intending to give full reverse throttle with full rudder to shunt the stern around I instead gave full throttle ahead - we touched the dock with a nudge that made the halyards slap. I was looking backwards at the time - expecting that to be the direction in which we would move. No damage to us (or the dock) but it was a blow to my confidence. It was the last lock - there was no more manoeuvring and no chance to end the day's journey on a good point.

It was by no means the end of the day however. It was only mid-afternoon. We had berthed along side another vessel in the canal basin at Crinan and begun to look around. Our only chore was to get some diesel which turned out to be a short walk to the nearby boatyard. Crinan was tiny; a very pretty place dominated by a large edwardian hotel. We set our minds on eating at the hotel restaurant and booked a table for seven o'clock.

It was a fine evening. We arrived early for dinner and took the opportunity to have a glass of wine on the balcony of the fourth floor bar. The view northwards was spectacular. Come seven o'clock we settled into the restaurant and slowly nibbled our way through several splendid courses and some wonderful wine. After the meal we moved outside for coffee and chocolates but the midges were too much... back to the boat and insect repellent. We made another pot of coffee and took it off the boat to 'picnic' upon a bench and watch the sun set. The stillness and the warmth, the food and the wine; they all conspired to make me feel much better.

This last picture was taken at midnight. It really was as light as you see it here. The long Scottish days never see full darkness in mid-summer.