Lower Badcall - 25/26 July 2006 (day 66/67)

Yacht Gothik

At Anchor

Lower Badcall

Badcall Bay

Highland

24 July 2006

Click here to see a map.

Logged distance: 18.5M

Chart distance: 21M

Time under way: 5h

Tuesday 25 July 2006

Today was full of highlights and one gruesome mishap (more on that later). One of the highlights was a shower in the local leisure centre - a swanky building opened exactly one year ago to this day. The staff were friendly, the water was piping hot and the shower had acres of floor space making it easy to hop around on one foot whilst applying soap to the other.

The weather was fine with plenty of warm sunshine and a few pure white clouds in a blue blue sky. The wind when setting off after lunch was almost nonexistent; reluctant to put the engine on all we were able to do was to drift along slowly with the tide and limp sails. Even so, we at least managed a few miles and sighted some dolphins (a first for Will and David). They didn't stay long however, I suspect the boat was moving too slowly for them to come and play.

Although nearly a mile from shore we could hear the voices of people on a beach and of those fishing nearby in little boats. Every now and again we would see a disturbed patch of water in the glassy sea, fish would jump from it and birds would dive in. These were most likely 'bait balls'; shoals of fish swimming round and round in tight circles, possibly rounded up by dolphins.

William jumped in - we really can't keep him on the boat - and swam for a while with Gothik still under full sail (but going nowhere). Eventually though we had to start the engine so as to make it round the Old Man of Stoer, passing a basking shark along the way. Will put the fishing line out and very quickly caught a mackerel - something to to use as bait tonight at our anchorage to try and catch something bigger.

The mountains of the Coigach.

The Old Man of Stoer.

Some of the outlying islands on the approach to Badcall Bay.

The approach was interesting, quite easy with plenty of depth and visual references - however, if one did not have a chart actually in the cockpit (rather than down below on the chart table), navigating the channel with its many dog-legs would be very difficult indeed. I wouldn't like to contemplate a first-time approach in bad weather, although once inside there is perfect shelter from all wind and sea conditions.

David, Keith and Will.

It looks as though we are stationary here but we are in fact motoring into the channel at around five knots.

Just before dropping the anchor David pointed out another bird in flight that we had not yet seen - a Black Throated Diver.

Fishing for bottom feeders with much improvised fishing gear.

Will attached a fishing reel to a deck-brush with jubilee clips and used an empty ginger beer bottle with a cork stuck in it as a float. A heavy weight was attached near to the end of the line and below that the hook and mackerel bait. The weight caused the float to lay horizontally on the surface, the buoyancy of which could be adjusted by removing the cork and adding water. The float could also be moved up and down along the length of the line to allow the bait to remain at the required depth and just above the bottom of the sea floor. When something nibbled or pulled on the bait the float would bob vertically. In theory it seemed perfect!

In practice it took three persons to cast the line; one to hold the broom, a second to throw the ginger beer bottle and a third to cast the weight and hook. The actions of all three had to be well synchronised but Will, David and Keith in time became quite good at it - the line would be cast and after a while the float would show definite signs of activity below.

The proceedings were temporarily interrupted by dinner (not fish - I'd given up on waiting for a fish to cook) and continued afterward. By this time Will and Keith thought they could manage a cast with between the two of them. Keith took hold of the broom, Will the ginger beer bottle, weights and baited hook and started to swing; 3... 2... 1... CAST...!

There was only the plop of the ginger beer bottle... and Will softly going "Agh... agh... agh...". Now begins the gruesome mishap; hovering below Will's hand was the very heavy weight. The weight was tugging the large hook which was securely embedded (beyond the barb) in the knuckle of his index finger. Needless to say Will did the right thing and sat down. There was only one thing for it, there was no way the barb was going to come back out the way it had gone in, the hook would have to be pushed right through Will's finger. After this was explained to Will I went and got the wire cutters and the pliers.

Will was a brave soul. He braced himself in silence each time I said "Ready?" and went to work on the hook. The amount of force required to push the hook through was brutal - the skin on the palm side of the finger being very tough and thick and the barbed hook being very large. In the end (after a five minute pause) Will managed it, the barb finally made an appearance on the other side of his finger. I then used the wire cutters to snip the eye off the hook and with pliers pulled it all the way through leaving two neat holes and no blood. The operation was finished with a dousing in Laphroig whisky. There was instant relief all round. Less than five minutes later we were all laughing about the incident which could have been far worse. We put the fishing gear away.

We all thoroughly enjoyed today (despite the engine and the barbed fish hook), the scenery was spectacular, there was much wildlife, plenty of sunshine and things to laugh about and remember.

Wednesday 26 July 2006

Lazy day today. Will and David went for a romp ashore to see if they could find a place for us to eat tonight - excellent, I'm in the mood for some luxury. Keith and I read and sat about in the sunshine. It was late afternoon before Will and David returned having found somewhere to eat. Will started fishing once again but this time with a little more caution.

All he managed to catch (and with some success) were crabs. These had to be re-caught, i.e. chased around the cockpit, before being picked up and thrown back in. By this time a skua and a few gulls were showing some interest. Will (a bit bored?) tied a piece of mackerel to a length of string and teased them. The skua and gulls got closer and closer, most confused as the bait landed and then disappeared. In the end Will did the right thing and threw them the remaining bait.

More pictures of a Great Skua - a little disheveled this one.

In the evening I togged up in my best clothes and we took the dingy ashore. Our landing place was some distance from the road and we had to make our way up a steep hillside blanketed with tall meadow flowers and grasses.

It was a splendid evening - very warm, very humid and we could see the mist began to roll its way in from the sea. However, I could have left my best clothes back at the boat since the promised 'restuarant' was a pub that sold scampi and chips at the end of a three and a half mile walk! Not my idea of luxury but enjoyable none the less.

The return journey was the same three and a half mile walk (let it be understood now that we had walked seven miles for a plate of scampi and chips!). By now it was near darkness and had become very foggy. This made negotiating the steep hillside quite interesting and finding the boat quite a challenge. Fortunately, by some miracle, the anchor light had been accidentally switched on on the switch panel. If it hadn't I think we would still be there circling Badcall Bay in the dingy...