Rain and Midges: The best of Scottish sailing.

It was during my second two hour spell of anchor watch that, when not marvelling at the strange beauty of rain so heavy that phosphorescence flashed all around the boat, I considered what sailing in Scotland might be like if the weather was better.

The day had started grey with light wind and the forecast of southerly winds reaching force three or four. We covered over fifty miles by the log to reach “one of the most popular anchorages on the west coast” which turned out not to be a hole as the name suggested but a channel through which tide and swell ran unimpeded. We put up with the steady rain knowing that an overnight wind shift should give us a brisk downwind return the next day in north-westerly force five or six.

Our long keel was our undoing as we lay to the tide while our nearest fin keeled neighbours lay to the wind. We adjusted rudder and chain to prevent collisions but missed out on sleep in dry bunks.

The steep granite landscape around us was illuminated by the swinging anchor lights and I tried to imagine how my surroundings would be different if the sun shone every day.

I imagined that the highest ground would be devoted to a light house themed amusement arcade in honour of our locations mention in a Stevenson novel but the theme would have been distorted by a desire for more amusement and a blend of Disney castle and lighthouse would sit above us with panoramic views of the western seaboard and the St.Columba-land Theme Park on a bigger island near by.

The remaining cliff top properties would offer a full range of outdoor dining and entertainment options for the day trippers and boat users.

Dropping anchors through the clear water to the white sand below would be considered difficult and hard work to the potential visitor and would restrict the opportunities to separate boaters from their hard earned cash. The rocky shore would be “tidied” with concrete and a floating walkway would provide Med style stern-to mooring and a pleasant promenade with glass lifts and escalators to the facilities above.

The problem of tides would be solved by a barrage across the north entrance with a gate to allow access for the occasional adventurous type and to entertain on-lookers. The barrage would also provide pedestrian access to the exclusive apartments and villas on the smaller western island.

A breakwater to the south of the entrance would take care of any swell which threatened the peaceful scene within.

With surroundings like this I wouldn’t have been sitting in my leaky Gore-tex waterproofs while my warm dry bunk sat empty down below. No, I would have been lying in my bunk, too hot and no closer to sleep as the music from above thumped into the night and the sunburnt drunk family on the motor boat next door would start arguing about nothing in particular. Meanwhile the breakwater would allow in just enough swell for the walkways to creak and groan enough to be audible in the short gaps between songs from the Karaoke bar.

My drifting imagination was disturbed by the alarm to signal the end of my watch and I retired below to peel off the damp layers to make the most of my two hours in bed. I drifted off feeling grateful for the heavy rain and shifting winds which keep these islands starkly beautiful and undeveloped.