Third time lucky

Since we would have had to wait almost 8 hours for the bridge in Whitby, we decided to carry on up the coast. Depending on the weather and the crew, we’d see how far we got. Once we reached the River Tyne, the temptation became too great. Wim and Bas still weren’t feeling quite right and the harbour was beckoning. So we tied up at the first available spot, the Royal Quays Marina. A super-luxurious marina with a harbour master on call 24/7. A friendly lady was waiting to take our lines in the lock and then again at the berth. Not that it was necessary: Bas on the foredeck, Wim at the helm and me at the stern, and we slid backwards into the box just like that. There are of course traditions to uphold, so once the lines were coiled, the first stop was the café for flat beer and Fish & Chips.

We were miles from Newcastle, so we didn’t see the renovated city centre, but I did notice new buildings going up all along the river. The shabbiness has definitely gone. The next day everyone was well rested and the wind had eased a little to a gusty Force 4-5 from the west. Once at sea it turned out there was still 30-35 knots ahead of the squalls, so we continued north under a conservative sail plan. This time the destination was Eyemouth, the first harbour in Scotland. Accessible at low water too (no bridge or lock). A really charming little harbour, where the business is no longer fish but wind turbines, though here they aren’t called “Sea Zip” like in Harlingen. You lie in a dammed-off section of the river, with the normal river current flowing past behind you.

Unfortunately we came in too late to eat ashore: by 20:00 every kitchen was already closed. After a beer in the pub, Chinese takeaway it was, then. Tasted pretty good after another long day of sailing.

The next day the weather and conditions here on the Scottish east coast started to play an important role again. It was still “westerly weather”, with a series of low-pressure systems. Cold for the time of year, with (very) clear spells alternating with fierce rain squalls. Lovely weather for looking out of a cottage with a view, less so for sailing through. The solution is to pick your moment. In this case we knew we had to reach Peterhead this week. You can make one or two short stops along the way, but then you have to take the wind and rain as they come. We went for the best weather window of the week, which meant not leaving Eyemouth too early and then sailing through the night to arrive in Peterhead early in the morning. It’s 100 miles, and a Contest 46 won’t cover that in one (long) day’s sailing. No matter, there was still plenty of delicious rendang left (thanks to chef Marion), and it was going to be a broad to beam reach. We left at 12:00 and were in Peterhead at 06:00 after a lovely passage, Wim and Bas well into the swing of things by now. Again 2 hours on and 4 hours off for the watches. You couldn’t have lasted much longer outside at night anyway, it was freezing out there (~5 degrees).

After catching up on sleep we visited the harbour master, where a local gave Wim quite a scare by saying he’d heard the Caledonian Canal was closing for maintenance. Fortunately that turned out not to be true. Then on to the impressive prison museum nearby. In the 1970s there was a riot here, and Maggie Thatcher sent in the SAS. Bizarre that this prison stayed open until 2014; Alcatraz had nothing on it. See e.g. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-41397881

The Scots we talk to are all very friendly and seem to be in a good mood. From the harbour masters to the bar staff, or the little groups in the pubs that we strike up a conversation with, or who strike one up with us. A bit like the feeling we get in Friesland: there’s always time for a quick chat. Nice.

Yesterday morning Bas got on the bus to Aberdeen, so now it’s just the two of us. Shortly we’ll be picked up by Mark Steinhart, a mate from my student society in Delft. He’s lived here ever since he married a Scottish lass some 30 years ago… The previous two times we were here with Merrimac he was abroad or out on an oil rig, but now that he’s retired it’s finally working out. Third time lucky.