The waters rumble and surge and the fearsome currents thrash;
a ferocious salty river pulls me ever closer to the thundering abyss.
Then I hear another voice ringing through the roaring water.
I listen to the voice of the sea and the wind’s quiet whisper.
And they show me a way, guide me safely through until the seas turn clear.
After sailing up from Edinburgh to Inverness and taking Kismet through the heart of Scotland via the Caledonian Canal, Helen had headed back to Edinburgh and I was sailing alone. A friend had invited me to attend the seafood festival in Tarbert on the Kintyre peninsula which was set to start five days hence, and to get there, I would have to sail through the fierce tides surrounding the Corryvreckan whirlpool by the Isle of Jura, and then the Crinan Canal, cutting through the top of the Kintyre peninsula.
Day 12: Loch Linnhe - Easdale | Distance: 32NM | Passage time: 8h.
Wind: F4 | Sea state: Smooth
It felt surreal waking up surrounded by the tall mountains and deep valleys of Loch Linnhe. There was not a breath of wind. I could tell from my bunk before even opening my eyes because the quiet was tangible. Normally there are little sounds and movements constantly on board: the slapping halyards and creaking rigging, the wind whooshing across the deck and the soft lapping of water along the hull. But that morning there was nothing.
Checking the forecast I saw the wind would pick up just as the tides were turning in my favour. Until then I could enjoy a slow morning: coffee and breakfast at anchor in view of this incredible landscape.
I did some writing over coffee and listened to music while cleaning up the boat, preparing for the next few days of traveling south towards Jura, Crinan and Tarbert.
I set sail in the early afternoon for Easdale. I’ve come to love sailing alone. The complete self-sufficiency and solitude is just scary enough to be thrilling, and successfully managing sails, tiller, and weather conditions is a deeply rewarding experience. Most importantly though, single-handed sailing gives you plenty of time to just exist. If I could give an unexpected gift to someone it would be that of the experience of sitting for quiet hours watching the movement of the waves as the landscape slowly moves past in the distance. There is no better feeling.
Kismet and I sailed past green hills and isles as Oban disappeared astern. The world felt so different here: everywhere I looked I saw nooks and valleys, sheltered bays and beaches, and tall mountains that adorned the horizon, fading into blue as they receded in the slight haze in the distance.
It was a warm and sunny day with a perfect breeze. I averaged 6 knots, Kismet’s maximum speed, almost the whole day before anchoring in a sheltered corner of Easdale. The sun set in ruby red behind me as I cooked dinner.
I realised I hadn’t seen anyone, spoken to anyone or done anything except sailing and living a simple life on the water all day. And somehow I felt completely content.
Day 13: Easdale - Crinan | Distance: 14NM | Passage time: 4h.
Wind: F2-3 | Sea state: Smooth
The next morning I woke up with one word spinning around my mind: Corryvreckan. The tides flowing south through the Sound of Luing and Jura are fierce and fast, and between Jura and the Isle of Scarba a standing wave and whirlpool form, creating incredibly dangerous conditions for a small boat. That’s where I would be sailing today: past the famous whirlpool to reach the beginning of Crinan Canal, the second canal of this voyage.
It was another slow morning of waiting for the tides to turn. I wouldn’t be able to make any progress against the tides in these waters, so timing it right was essential. As the tide turned after breakfast I set my sails and raised my anchor. The sun was out and a perfect light breeze carried me towards the tidal waters.
As I approached I could see the water bubbling as if it was a boiling witches’ cauldron. The strange water sent shivers down my spine — it seemed alive, or as if something huge was moving just beneath the surface. Kismet picked up speed as the fast flowing tides carried her, from 4 to over 10 knots. The tiller was occasionally knocked hard to port or starboard, as if something underneath the surface forced it to the side. Eddies and currents most likely, but doubts teetered at the edge of my mind. I understood ancient seafarers a little better then. Even though I knew exactly what caused the tides and the strange behaviour in the water, I was almost ready to believe in sea creatures and legends.
(Video shows the strange tides and effects as I sail towards Scarba and Jura)
I rode this tidal river past the craggy shores of Scarba and Jura. As I passed the gap where the Corryvreckan whirlpool lay in wait, I peered out to starboard and listened for its presence, but the wind drowned out any potential noise.
The tide and wind carried me quickly past, all the way to the entrance of the canal, and I dropped the sails and prepared the mooring lines for the single-handed locking in manoeuvre. Steering with one foot and lines in both hands I motored in, and threw the lines up to the lock keeper in one fluid motion. Success! I’d made it to the Crinan Canal.
After securing Kismet in the canal basin where I’d spend the night, I went for a stroll. Walking along the banks of the canal, surrounded by dense ancient forest seemed like a walk through time. Crinan forest is a temperate rainforest, rich in old oak and moss-covered tree trunks.
The air shifted as soon as I entered the forest, the heady scents of moss and lichen and damp earth replacing the salty sea air. It was a welcome change. I strolled through that forest for hours, letting the magical air carry me away through memories, back to the old Swedish forests of my childhood. Smells transport you through time and place in a kaleidoscope of memories rushing back like nothing else I know of. I had missed old forests.
Day 14-16. Crinan - Tarbert | Distance: 10+10NM | Passage time 6+2h.
Wind: F3-5 | Sea state: Smooth-Slight
The next day was a blur of locks and bridges. Going through canals single-handed requires all your effort and control, and by the time I arrived at the other end of the canal I was exhausted, having not had time to eat or drink, nor take a break through the 6 hours it took to navigate the canal. I slept well though, feeling accomplished and more competent at boat handling than ever before in my life.
Doing something until you feel competent at it is a remarkable thing. The feeling of confidence and security in the knowing itself can transform your outlook. Up until then I knew I could sail, but with close-quarters boat manoeuvres, I had always felt like I was making them up as I went along, hoping things would go well. But now I finally had the sense that I knew what I knew.
The next morning I woke up to howling winds and sheets of rain, but it was the day before the seafood festival and I was determined to make it to Tarbert, only 2 hours of sailing away.
(Video from the passage from an old note)
It turned out to be the two wettest hours of sailing yet, but as I sailed into Tarbert in the misty evening light I was elated. I had made it in time for the festival, and I was looking forward to taking a little break from sailing, and enjoying the festivities in the local village.
Thank you for reading! Please follow along on this journey to receive the next instalment: Alone at the End of the World: Rounding the Mull of Kintyre!
Please help support Soulfaring!
Soulfaring will always be free, but if you have the means to support the writing I do here, please consider joining as a paid subscriber!
Paid subscribers (£4/month or £35/year) get access to The Captain’s Quarters Subscriber Chat along with several other perks and gifts.
or show your support for our voyage through a one-off donation:
Read the previous part here:
![Through Loch Ness and the Heart of the Scottish Highlands [Week 2]](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!91Mi!,w_140,h_140,c_fill,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep,g_auto/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0282412a-5558-42a1-a120-9bf22ffd8958_4032x2268.jpeg)
A fabulous Soulfaring journey as always 🌱
What an adventure!! That photograph of the old forest is incredible. The sights and sounds of a forest certainly have a way of transporting a person.