Customs and Immigration, by Bob

What is my biggest fear of this cruising life-style?  For me it’s not wind or waves or broken engines or torn sails, no, it’s the human confrontation with bureaucracy that is necessary when entering and leaving a country.

Bahamas…It ruined half a day for me in the Bahamas and I still think the official took us for an extra $150.  Thankfully Kim was with me for this one.  I don’t believe she shares the same fear as me for this process.

Bermuda…As my father and I approached Bermuda on our Atlantic crossing we read a list of warnings and requirements and money needed for stopping for a night and it created a 150NM force field that Midwatch could not penetrate.  They also require VHF radio contact as you approach which is probably my second biggest fear of cruising.

Azores…My Dad watched me agonize a third time with negative anticipation as we approached the Azores.  The more I read the guide books about the entrance details the more I became paralyzed by dread of the whole thing.  I dodged that particular bullet when a storm threatened to trap us there allowing for a decision to scrap our entrance.

Yes I would rather confront a storm any day…for real…but one of our goals for this trip is to confront our fears and move outside our comfort zone.  So I continue to try.

Ireland…Dad and I were motor sailing slowly through the fog along the coast with about two hours to go before we would reach Cork.  I had just set the yellow quarantine flag and retrieved the folder with all our ship’s papers and read the entrance requirements.  I sat down in the cockpit and prepared to set myself in a real foul mood in anticipation of our arrival.  Dad even warned me that I was not to scrap Ireland and head straight for the Caledonian Canal in Scotland…he knew I was thinking just that!  While Dad was avoiding eye contact with me to avoid watching me freak out he said “Hey look at that boat approaching”.  I looked towards where he was pointing…sure enough a vessel was heading straight for us at a high rate of speed.  I think we both knew even before we read the word “Custaims” on the side of the boat that we were going to be boarded by the authorities.  It all happened so quickly I didn’t have any time to lose it.  This one actually turned into a pretty cool experience.  They also took it easier on us because we had not stopped at the Azores which was probably not a good lesson for me to learn.

We were travelling at about five knots and the Customs boat matched our speed at a distance about 500 feet away.  There was a long moment of awkward silence with us looking at each other through binoculars so I radioed and asked them what they would like me to do?  That seemed to get a good response.  They just said in a good natured tone “Maintain course and speed and we will board you momentarily”.  With Midwatch on auto pilot we watched them launch an inflatable off a ramp on their stern with three uniformed officers.  They motored over and two officers carefully came over the starboard rail by the shrouds where we directed them.  Five knots normally feels pretty slow but it feels infinitely faster when you are being boarded at sea.  The inflatable was driven steadily just off our starboard quarter by the third officer throughout the inspection.  They were professional and courteous.  They went through all our papers and searched the boat and chatted with us for some time.  Then it was over.  They let us take pictures and my Dad even took a movie of them leaving.  That evening at the dock in Ireland more customs officials came to meet us but kindly retreated when they learned we had been boarded.  They also let us off without going through immigration.  They witnessed the emotion of our family reunited and listened to my dad give the exhilarating tale of being boarded earlier so when I asked about immigration they simply said “Don’t worry about it, you’re good!”

 

Northern Ireland and Scotland:  Fortunately we were covered for these countries and all we had to do was change courtesy flags a couple of times and fax some paperwork to the government when leaving Scotland.  Kim did the bulk of it…all I had to do was sign my name…thanks Kim!

Norway…my confidence had grown and I was determined to show no fear on this one.  When we entered Norway at midnight we still had eight hours of motoring to get to Bergen where we would go through the Toll (Customs).  I was busy driving the boat all night and I was good and tired from the North Sea beating so I just didn’t have much in me to get myself worked up.  As we approached Bergen, I had to slow down and let a cruise ship go under a bridge in front of us…this was one of many that were docked in this town (the center of tourism for the fjord area of Norway).  We found the commercial wharf where the customs building was located through a guidebook.  As I was turning the boat to tie up I could see rats going in and out of holes in the rock foundation of the wharf (Norway Rats)…yuck!  We secured ourselves along the stone quay protected by old tractor tires and held ourselves off with two layers of bumpers and boards (nasty dock).  As ship’s captain I gathered my paperwork and courage and stepped ashore to meet with the officials.  I found the building easily enough from the map in the guidebook but when I reached the door there was a sign that said they had moved.  Fortunately it was not far away and some nice Norwegian used her fine English skills to point me to the proper door.  I entered the offices which were new and clean.  There were two gentlemen sitting at their computers and I had to excuse myself to get noticed.  I told them I had just arrived on a yacht and that I was tied up at their dock just around the corner.  The younger officer fussed with his computer for a few minutes and then called the older officer over to help.  The older officer took over and said there was a problem with the computer system and that I would need to come back later.  He also said that I needed to visit immigration at the police station on the other side of town and he printed me a map.  I asked if I should take my family and he said that would not be necessary.  I agreed to come back after lunch.

So, I went back to Midwatch and told Kim what was going on and then headed for the police station.  By now I was getting really tired almost to the point of involuntary tears but I was saved by the fact that it was a beautiful sunny morning and the walk felt really good.  I found the police station after walking a block too far.  The building had an information desk where a clerk sent me to a room down the hall.  The person there sent me to another room where I was sent back to the clerk who sent me to a different office.  This final office had a screen displaying numbers in what they call a ‘Queue’.  Apparently you are supposed to register on the internet to get a place in the Queue and then when your number is posted you can speak to someone.  Well that wasn’t going to work for me so I budged in line as soon as an opening came up.  This person made a phone call and told me to wait for an immigration officer who would come “down” shortly.   I sat in a plastic chair watching people struggle with immigration issues for about an hour.  Finally, a mountain of a man showed up in his fancy police uniform.  He listened to my situation and asked “Where are your wife and children”?   He would not stamp their passports without seeing them so he agreed to meet me later.  So back to Midwatch I plodded.  This time I walked along the town docks where visitors tied up and where we would need to go after we finished with these formalities.  The docks were filled with yachts that were rafted three deep…what a pain in the ass!

Back at Midwatch I told Kim the situation so we all got out.  We decided to try Customs again and this time they were ready.  They didn’t have any paperwork in English so the older gentleman interpreted.  The only real concern was if we had any alcohol on board, cooking sherry doesn’t count.  So with this completed we set off for the police station.  We walked in and were confronted with a sign on the information desk that they were closed for lunch!  Again, I think the only way I kept my cool was because I was so over tired I was like the human version of silly putty.

With this news we set off to waste time and perhaps get a bite to eat at the famous Fish Market in Bergen.  It was pretty awesome, and so were the prices.  Fortunately Kim could figure the conversions quickly because I might have spent all our money on the freakishly expensive smoked salmon.  The crowd was enormous…remember there were at least three cruise ships in town, including the QE II.  We did weasel some free samples and I got to eat some Minke Whale which I quite enjoyed.  It was accurately described as a cross between tuna and beef.

When we figured lunch time was over we went back to the police station and had the information clerk phone the immigration officer and then found a bench where we sat and watched all kinds of interesting people coming and going for the next hour.  Another family arrived from Australia; they were getting off a cruise ship and they needed their passports stamped as well.  This led to a bunch of confusion when the officer finally showed up.  In the end Finn saved us, lightening the mood with his wit.  We were told that it was extremely important to have our passports stamped again when leaving the country…Ugh!

So after a full and agonizing day of entrance formalities I was finally able to take a nap in the sun in the cockpit of Midwatch.  I felt that we had earned the right to leave Midwatch at the Customs dock for the night instead of rafting up in town and I felt damned good about loading some particularly stinky garbage in their dumpster.  Kim felt bad about it and tried to pay for docking at the tourist information center where they told her to forget about it…thank goodness.

We have now completed our tour of Norway and we survived having our passports stamped when departing which is another story I will not bore you with.  Back in Scotland they let us through the Caledonian Canal with a signature and copies of our passport photos faxed to customs…minimally invasive.

Kim has started keeping a fun photo log of Midwatch dressed in various courtesy flags here is what we have so far.

JELLY FISH, by Bob

It was time for a haircut.  I have cut my own hair for the past 25 years or so and it is generally a pretty routine type of job, but it is a little more involved when you live on a boat.

So we are tied to a private dock in Norway and we are prepping to leave the boat for a week to go on a road trip to visit some friends that don’t live so near the water.  It’s a cold rainy evening.  We have the cockpit bubble up and the heater is on.  I have pre-charged the hair clippers and decide we should run the engine both to top up the batteries and to make some hot water so that I can take a “cockpit shower” after my haircut.

The engine is rumbling away and things are proceeding well.  I am about three quarters of the way through my haircut when a high pitched alarm sounds.  This is one we haven’t heard before and creates quite a family response.   It is coming from the control panel for the engine in the cockpit.  I am a bit slow getting out of the head where I am cutting my hair so Kim is hollering what she is finding.  I make sure she notes what indicator light is on before I let her shut the engine off.

The engine is overheating…it’s never done this before.  This probably means that something has clogged the raw water part of the cooling system.  Basically there is a hole in the side of the boat where water is pumped in by the engine which cools a separate loop of antifreeze which in turn cools the engine.  This water then passes out with the exhaust.  The incoming water goes through a large particle filter in the engine room.  So the first thing I do is check that.  I unscrewed the cap and tried to pull the filter out.  It had such an airlock that I could barely remove it.  It was completely filled by some sort of off-white jelly like substance…A Jelly Fish for sure, the harbor here is full of them!  I cleaned out the filter and used a small piece of hose to siphon out the rest of the guts from the filter housing.

A basketball-sized jelly fish

I finished my haircut and was very fortunate to have enough warm water to have my shower.



The next morning before we left on our road trip I topped up the coolant and started the engine to see if it would pump water.  It did so we went on our road trip.  I thought all that week that I had better check and change the raw water pump before we cross the North Sea. 



A week later, the day we were to leave Norway, I took the pump housing apart and found that the pump had, in-fact, failed.  Two of the rubber vanes were broken off and lodged somewhere in the cooling system.   These need to be retrieved or they can impede the flow of cooling water.  I was very fortunate to find the first piece in the hose that leads to the heat exchanger but there was still another piece to be found.  My father and I had taken the heat exchanger apart for cleaning in Vero Beach, Florida, before we crossed the Gulf Stream.   It is a fairly involved process and I was not too excited about doing it again so soon.  I had our little wet dry vacuum from Walmart out so I thought it would be worth a try to see if I could suck it out of the exchanger.  It worked!  All broken pieces accounted for and new pump installed in less than an hour; we could head off across the North Sea.

The North Sea (by Bob)

At this point we have traversed the North Sea between Scotland and Norway twice so we have some experience and perspective that we would like to share.

I will start way back on July 8^th on a beautiful morning tied to a dock in the Caledonian Canal.  We had sailed Loch Ness the day before and we had a lot to do with our goal of starting across the North Sea this day.  We woke up early for us these days…around 6:30 AM.   We were in a private slip because we couldn’t find any public spaces the night before.  This slip had a spigot with a hose nearby so I took the opportunity to fill our water tank, mostly for ballast reasons, as water is pretty easy to come by in this part of the world.  It was a beautiful morning with bright clear skies and warm enough for short sleeves  (are we really in Scotland?).  The whole family walked down to use the facilities nearby the gates for the next lock and then we checked in with the lock operator who had just arrived.  He said we could come 'straight away' so we ran back to Midwatch, started the engine, cast off the lines and headed for the first of six locks and two swing bridges that bring you down into Inverness.  It was all down-hill now and by this point, Kim and Anna really had things down with how to handle the lines and boat hooks so the process went very smoothly for us.

A family of swans on the last bit of Caledonian Canal on the approach to Inverness

Near the end of the canal there is a very nice marina where we stopped and topped up our fuel tanks, filled out and faxed our exit paperwork to the government and made a last trip to the grocery.  The grocery in Inverness was probably only a mile away but our knees were nearly gone by the time we got back to Midwatch considering all the milk and cheese and yogurt, eggs etc. we were carrying in backpacks, and Finn too!

By now the day was getting a bit late and we had minutes to get to the last gate…the sea gate for the last drop of the day.  Amazingly, there is no dock of any kind once they let you out.  You are just in the sea.  We hadn’t any time to prep the boat for going to sea but fortunately the sun was out and we had some hours of relatively sheltered driving in the Firth before we hit open ocean.  So we were very busy stowing food and anchors etc. etc.  We also had a pint of the best ever ice cream, Mackie's Honeycomb, that had to be consumed then and there for lack of a freezer.  Kim and Anna did the bulk of the navigating and driving as the wind was hard on the nose and the channel was narrow.  After 12 miles motoring through the channel  we could finally put the sails up, but the wind was still in our faces (20 kts) forcing us to tack back and forth for hours to get into the North Sea.  The tidal current is strong here as well, fortunately it was with us in the channel, giving us as much as three knots of boost but, of-course, it turned against us once we started sailing.




Lunch

Anna motor sailing on a beauty of a day off the
Orkney Islands on the North Sea

The sailing was pretty good, the current, however, really sucked so forward movement was tedious but there was no swell in this area of Scotland called the Moray Firth.  It was still light at 11:00 PM so we could make out a castle on the shore and then the wind changed direction enough so we could sail in a more northerly direction and a bit away from land.  At this point in our journey, the plan was to make an effort to sail off-shore direct all the way to Lofoten, Norway….that’s way north.  From there we would travel south along the Norwegian coast visiting friends and sites along the way.  This route north would take us along the Orkney Islands and then the Shetlands and then a long open stretch to Lofoten.  The passage would be about 760 nautical miles north…pretty ambitious!

 



Kids on passage equals movie time!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The following day, when we were off the Orkney Islands, the wind died completely and we motored most of the day.  That night the wind picked back up and we sailed north and then east and then north until we were in sight of the Shetlands.  The conditions, however, had become quite foul.  We had fog and rain and swell and short steep waves.  Kim, Anna and I had definite sea sickness problems…thankfully Finn was fine.  The wind shifted yet again and a check of the forecast meant we were faced with a decision.  Tack to port and go in to the Shetlands and wait for fair weather for the run to Lofoten or stay on the starboard tack and head direct to the nearest port in Norway (Bergen) about 180 nautical miles away.  A big opening in the oil fields here carried some weight in this decision as well.  A quick family vote was cast and we turned right and headed to Bergen.  I think we would all make that same decision again but what a miserable trip it was. 

 

The wind and seas built continuously through the next day and a half.  It was brutally cold and rainy.  The heater blew out once I think from wind or a wave blocking the exhaust so we didn’t run it until it got so cold we didn’t care if it broke because we needed the heat so badly.  While on watch I spent most of the time lying on the cabin floor watching the radar screen because it sucked so bad sitting in the cockpit.  About 30 miles out of Norway the wind and waves picked up to the point that the auto pilot could no longer handle it.  I could see land and I knew we just had to get there as soon as possible…we did not want to be out here for another night in this crap.  I suited up with all my gear and put the big blue gloves on and strapped myself in behind the wheel.  The conditions were just flat awful.  I found it best if I stood while steering and that’s what I did for the next 5 or 6 hours.  Kim courageously offered to help but I felt I could handle it and I did not want to subject her to this beating.  When the waves broke over I just shouldered in.  Strangely, the water felt kind of warm.  I guess partly because it was so cold out and partly because the gulf-stream dead ends here keeping the water amazingly warm.  A couple hours at the wheel and my sea sick symptoms disappeared so I actually felt better.  There seems to be a high that comes to the body when seasickness symptoms abate.  At this point the skies were clearing a bit and the mountains started to become clear with glaciers on top reflecting the setting sun, a truly awesome site.  I thought “This is how it has to be to reach Norway by sea…I must go through this right of passage”.  Though my arms and shoulders were aching and I was shivering from the cold I used that last bit of adrenalin to steer us through the rocks…we made it!

Around one bend in the rocks and it was smooth “lake type sailing”…a tremendous relief.  The time was just after midnight and it was Kim’s birthday, July 11^th.  The kids were asleep and we congratulated each other on our success as we sailed slowly up the channel.  I have experienced a number of moments on this journey that I thought were the best moments of my life and this was certainly one of them!

 

OK…let’s fast forward through our time in Norway and have a second look at the North Sea on our passage back to Scotland.  The date is Tuesday, August 20, and we are tied to a private dock in a sheltered cove on the beautiful island of Bømlo located between Bergen and Stavanger.  There is a lot to tell about this amazing place and the wonderful people we were visiting that we will share in a more dedicated post soon.

The weather looked promising for the bulk of the passage from Bømlo to Inverness.    As the crow flies, we faced about 325 NM to the southwest.  The wind was forecast to be a bit on the nose early and then heavier coming in about 4-5 days.  We generally figure on making 5 kts which gives us about 120 NM in 24 hrs.  This was our window.

All prepped and ready to leave Norway

Heading out the first channel on our way to the sea

In preparation we ran the Honda generator for many hours to charge the batteries.  We cannot hook up to shore power in Europe because the voltage and cycles do not match our U.S. equipment so we keep our batteries up using our wind generator, engine alternator and Honda generator.  I filled the batteries with DI water, greased the rudder shaft, vacuumed the carpets, topped up the drinking water tank and changed out the raw water impeller for the engine (there’s a long story that I will share later).   Kim took care of groceries and the kids played with their new friends.  We had lunch and said our goodbyes and headed out.



North Sea, Bømlo in the background, bound for Scotland



It was sunny and pretty warm while we motored through the nested coves and rocks that protect the harbors of this special island.  We passed a fish farm and set the main sail before we hit the swells of the North Sea.  Unfortunately we could not steer directly for Inverness as the wind was on the nose so we spent our first night tacking back and forth making for slow progress (also remember the gulf stream is against us here).  I think we sailed 60 NM to make good only 40 NM towards our mark.  The island of Bømlo has a huge mountain on it so I could see it for a very long time…even after sailing away all night.  This was all a bit defeating but this is sailing…you just keep at it.

 



Sail training ship…very cool

The wind was not terribly strong nor the waves particularly rough, but that morning on Day 2 Kim and I were both noticeably seasick…not puking but thinking about it for sure.  I think I can see a pattern now, I can and do get seasick. It usually starts the second day for me.  Many passages are 24 hours or less so I didn’t think seasickness was an issue for me but, in fact, it definitely is.  At about 1:30 PM on Wednesday the wind pretty much died and we found it necessary to use the engine.  Soon thereafter we ran out of propane for our oven (bad timing) and I decided I better take the opportunity during this relatively calm condition (small waves but big swell) to go forward and work in the anchor locker to change the tank for a full one.  I came pretty close to blowing chunks through that process.  I would work for a minute or so with my head in the hole and then lie down on my back to compose myself for 5 minutes.  It took me almost a half-hour to complete a 5 minute task.  That’s how it is out here.

At 7:30 PM, I was inspecting the boat and found that our roller furler (located in the bow which rolls the genoa up) was cock eyed.  I retrieved a wrench and fixed it…hadn’t had any issues from that since the boat was near Bermuda.

Sunset…we had a full moon that night but the pictures didn’t come out

What little wind we had finally clocked around from the Northeast…we ended up motor sailing (sailing with the a little help from the engine) with the wind at our backs for almost two days.   This was good and bad.  Everyone’s seasickness left and I think Kim ended up having one of her best passages ever, but the constant engine noise and burning of diesel fuel really gets annoying.

Approaching an oil rig near sunset

A floating city it seems…there are dozens of these that can be seen in the distance

Our path took us through the North Sea oil fields which are really quite amazing and interesting to witness.  It seemed fitting for us to see, up-close, the source of wealth that makes Norway tick.



As we approached Inverness on Thursday we started to evaluate the situation.  Should we maintain our speed with the engine or back off and sail slowly.  The weather report said heavy wind for the weekend and then we remembered we needed to get through customs and immigration etc.  If we were too late we might be stuck in Inverness until Monday.  We also remembered the long distance we needed to travel up river to reach the sea lock.  At the wrong tide the counter current would cut our speed in half.  I don’t know how, but Kim remembered we had a brochure from Scotland that gave the tides for that spot…she dug it out and it showed we could ride the tide in on Friday if we got there in the morning and that it would be high about 2:00 PM.  We ran our calculations and added a few more RPM’s to the engine.  The push was on.  About 5:00 AM on Friday morning we could see land and were flying along at over 7 kts.  Suddenly the wind increased to over 25 kts and

Note the main sheet laying in the cockpit and
the flag straight out!

we scrambled to get the engine off and reef the main.  I woke Kim and got her on deck and swung the boat in to the wind to heave-to when I heard a snap and a crash.  A shackle had snapped or something and the main sheet was no longer attached to the boom.  The boom was swinging freely into the rigging…”Oh SHIT”!.   So, plan B was employed.  We dropped the main and continued with just the genoa.  An hour later the wind died and we burned diesel the rest of the way.

Bottlenose Dolphin family

 

 

Thanks to Kim we timed the tide perfectly and rode it up the river on a steamy August day towards the Sea Loch in Inverness.  We passed forts and beaches and got some amazing views of a rare type of Bottlenose Dolphin that lives only in this small area.  They jump and summersault and spy hop (stand on their tales to look around) and slap their tales in some form of communication.  They number less than 200 individuals in this population centered in Scotland’s Moray Firth.  Very special indeed!

Making pumpkin cake in the Moray Firth
approaching Inverness from the sea

We called the Sea Lock operator on the VHF as we approached from a nearby bridge and they were surprised how quickly we made the lock.  The current was over 3 kts pushing us to 9 almost 10 kts.  Midwatch was safely in fresh water by 2:30pm on Friday with plenty of time to get through customs and settle in at a nice quiet dock for the night.  We burned a lot of diesel fuel but the North Sea was behind us.  Spirits were very high!

Bob elated to have the North Sea behind him!

Our tracks: the high road was Inverness to Bergen, the low road was Bømlo to Inverness 

Note the oil fields, quite a slalom course!

The Wee Lass at the Stern

When we decided to go to Norway, the next obvious exercise was to figure out the route to get there. I was all for the northern route, Newfoundland, Iceland, Faeroes, Norway. Of course I wasn’t going to do the crossing so my vote didn’t count. We debated leaving from the Bahamas or even Sint Maarten in the Caribbean, but soon realized returning to True World Marine would be the least expensive option and allow us the flexibility for repairs with the excellent boating resources there. We started looking at maps of the British Isles. The English Channel sounded really scary with all the ships and going around the northwest of Ireland seemed a little too exposed. We then looked at the Irish Sea. The northwest of Scotland still seemed a bit scary. Neither Bob nor I remember who said it but someone said, “wouldn’t it be cool if there was a canal across Scotland?” We checked into it, and found one! Not only did it go through Scotland but it passes right through Loch Ness! We were sold and Scotland became one of the most looked-forward-to destinations of the trip. For the same reason we chose the Caledonian Canal on our trip to Norway, we chose to return there after our Norwegian departure.

After the Bobs arrived in Ireland, we allowed them to take a break; and we had to wait on a sail repair from the local sail maker.  I drove the sail over in our little rented car, a Fiat 500. The sail loft was a beautiful old barn with lovely stonewalls and gardens, a picture from an Irish post card. The sail maker was fantastic and gave us lots of advice and encouragement. They even have done some work for Lin and Larry Pardy.

Our little Fiat 500

Apparently I am not the only one who liked the little Fiat, so does Barbie!

While waiting for the repair, we spent a lot of time repairing and prepping the boat and went to eat at several nice restaurants. We were in a pub one night with Grandma and Grampa, the gentleman at the next table had on a Volvo Race jacket. This is a prestigious sailing race and the Bobs were buzzing about whether this guy had done it. We were in a town called Crosshaven, which claims to be the sailing capital of Ireland, so anything was possible. After listening to the Bobs for several minutes, I did the sensible thing and asked. We spent the rest of the evening chatting with the very nice couple.  He had not sailed in the Volvo Race but knew an awful lot about sailing. He even told us the Irish Agriculture Minister was in the yacht club marina, right near our boat. The best part of the evening is he told us about the Crinan Canal, a canal constructed about the same time as the Caledonian Canal and cuts off the Mull of Kintyre, a long peninsula that cuts off the passage from Glasgow to the north, making ships go out into a very exposed area. The Crinan is a much smaller canal and boats in passage must operate the locks themselves. After a brief discussion (and  lots of refrains of the song ¯Mull of Kintyre ¯) we decided it would be great. We still had Grandma and Grampa on the boat so the extra hands would make operating the locks not as scary, many hands make light work.

 

It took 2 ½ days to reach the canal, the last day in pouring rain. We arrived in the morning and looked around for a dock or mooring. The doors to the lock were open and Bob drove right in. We scrambled around getting lines and bumpers, Bob hollering and the nice lady from Scottish Canals 

The Sea Lock entering the Crinan

trying to give us instructions. I didn’t understand a word she said. We tied up and they started filling the lock. I was in the bow which careened madly back and forth as the water filled the lock. We made it through, miraculously, with no mishaps and rafted up for lunch in a small basin below the next lock. We were rafted with another boat and were snapping photos of the kids, the locks and the quaint village we found ourselves in. One of the occupants of the boat we were rafted with (rafting is common here!) explained that they were getting help with the locks because they were short-handed and they would be our new best friends if we stuck with them. His wife leaned over and told Bob, camera in hand, that if he posted her photo on Facebook, she would sue him. Hmmm, not sure we want to stick with these folks.  We went through one more lock with them while we got a lesson in lock operation from the lock keepers. We settled into roles very quickly, Bob at the helm, Grampa operating the locks, I was at the bow and Anna at the stern. Grandma was still feeling funny but she mustered and sat in Mark the Chair and let the action happen around her.

Grampa the Lock Keeper!

See Midwatch UP the hill!

We went through several locks and stopped for the night adjacent a small gas station/market. It was an odd feeling to look down from Midwatch to the store and see cars whizzing by. Bob and I walked down to the market to see what we could find. They actually had a nice collection of local foods including smoked salmon, haggis and local Ice Cream. We brought home Ice Cream and salmon and left the haggis for someone else, gas station haggis??  As an aside, Mackies Honeycomb Ice Cream is worth a visit to Scotland alone!

We enjoyed a great weekend on the canal, nice weather and calm conditions. We all slept well and decided we really liked canal living. A pass to the canal includes dockage and facilities including bathrooms, showers, coin-op laundry, water, etc. We arrived at the end of Crinan late on the second day, a Sunday, and had a lovely dinner at the local hotel.

We exited the Crinan on a Monday morning after the lock operator at the sea lock discovered we had been overcharged and credited several hundred dollars back to my card. A good end to the canal!

It took us 12 hours to get to the Caledonian Canal from the Crinan and most of the journey was in the pouring rain. We caught glimpses of tall, moss-covered mountains periodically through the day. We finally arrived in Fort William at the Corpach Sea Lock late in the evening with just enough light to tie up at the float at the sea lock entrance. We were eating breakfast in the cockpit the next morning when the lock keepers called us into the lock. One thing followed another and we were soon ascending Neptune’s Staircase, an eight-step lock, breakfast half eaten, hair uncombed with busloads of tourists snapping photos of the famous flight. I gently ribbed Grampa, who claims to hate being a tourist, that he did a great job as a tourist attraction!

Neptune's Staircase

The locks are all operated in the Caledonian so we had extra hands. We had fun chatting with the other occupants of the lock, a Swedish couple that were finishing a six-year circumnavigation and

A lock in the Caledonian Canal

the Norwegian, whose boat had been busted up and towed in by the Irish Navy during the storm Bob wrote of. We stopped at the top for a well-deserved rest.

It was at this time that Grandma and Grampa decided to return home to seek medical attention for Grandma.  After getting them safely on their way, we headed off, a family of four once again, east towards Inverness and Norway.

We quickly got into a rhythm on the locks. Anna and I each had a boat hook. Anna would hand up the stern line and then I would pass the bow line to the lock keeper; many times with a nice compliment made by the lock keeper on the skills of the wee lass in the stern. There were on or two comments about the ‘lad’ but Anna quickly set them straight.

 

The Wee Lass at the Stern

 

Fort Augustus

We enjoyed our trips through the canals tremendously. The plentiful docks, nice people and the beauty of Scotland all made our trips special. We took our time on the return trip, stopping to see two castles and stretching our legs with some fine walking trips. We all loved the little town of Fort Augustus and we stayed there both ways. Bob and I did see something funny on Loch Ness, a boat perhaps, that was there…and then gone.

Uroquat Castle (or however you spell it!)

We had a great afternoon checking out this castle and the surrounds

Finn looking for Nessie

 

We are back at the Royal Cork Yacht Club, 1,000 miles south of Lauvsnes, Norway. The reality of the distance we have travelled over the past few weeks is settling in and the distance still to go is staggering. The kids have become very good at entertaining themselves in the back room (Atlantis) while travelling but the signs of approaching autumn keeps us moving.

 

 

The Land Crew's Irish Vacation

My order to the family to catch up on the blog has been a little slow but we have also been travelling for the past 11 days which makes working on the computer a little difficult (for seasick me). We have been backtracking, North Sea, Caledonian Canal, Scotland west coast, Irish Sea and around the bend to Cork Harbour. We arrived yesterday, back at the Royal Cork Yacht Club, the Bobs’ original arrival point back in June, amidst their annual regatta. There were two races happening just outside the harbor and we were thrilled to see the colorful spinnakers and zippy little boats with a backdrop of farms, fields and forts. I have also looked back to see where the holes are in our postings. The trip to Ireland with the kids and Grandma while waiting for the Bobs was a great five day excursion.



Grandma and the kids at Bunratty Castle

We arrived at Shannon Airport to the odor of farm which, like Grampa, made us feel at home right away. I had booked a room at a nearby Bed and Breakfast the night before we left and we were able to take a short cab ride there and were greeted like family. After collecting the rental car in downtown Limerick at 4:30 on a Friday afternoon AND driving the stickshift back through rushhour traffic on the left side (yikes!) we had a great evening at the local pub. We visited the local Bunratty castle on Saturday and stumbled upon the circus.

We left Bunratty after breakfast on a Sunday and headed north on the only four lane highway we would see for the entire Ireland trip and quickly made it to the west coast. The weather was cool and rainy. We were aiming for the Cliffs of Moher and the Ailwe Caves in the Burren, a raised limestone area on the west coast. We had seen the weather and knew that day one of the three-day trip to the west coast would not be the day for a ferry ride or cliff tour. Before we arrived at the cave we came across a Stone Age fort CaerConnell, and rattled over the cattle guard gate into the car park. We got out of the car in the misty rain and headed up the path to the visitor center. The kids were very excited to see the small Holstein calves penned in the stone paddocks along the path. Funny how the simple things amuse.  We had a great tour of the cave, visited an ancient standing stone burial site and remarked on the similarities of the limestone terrain to the Bahamas.



Waiting for the Ferry to see the Cliffs of Moher and to visit the Aran Islands, (Innisheer) we spotted a dolphin. We whistled and amazingly enough it came over to say hello!

A visit to the dentist office the day we departed (For Finn) had allowed me a few minutes to pick up a magazine in the lobby which had a great little travel log of the west coast of Ireland. Apparently the author had been at the Cliffs of Moher for three days before he actually got to see them due to fog and rain. We had been watching the weather closely and had booked a room in Doolin, near the ferry departure point, so that we would have several opportunities. Lucky for us Doolin was the site of the West Coast Music Festival and we were able to catch some great traditional music over dinner our first night. We were already quite accustomed to watching the weather …so I was prepared when it looked like our middle day in Doolin would allow us to see the Cliffs. We headed out on the Aran Islands Ferry to see the Cliffs of Moher and to visit the closest of the Aran Islands, Innisheer.   Finn was on the boat talking excitedly about the ‘muffins’ (puffins); it was obvious which riders were the English speakers, they were the ones chuckling. We did see puffins!

 



Finn on Innisheer. He is pretty proud of himself for driving the horse but now he is keen to RIDE a horse.

The tourist travel mode on Innisheer is by horse and cart and we had a wonderful little tour of the island and lunch at a pub. On our way back to the ferry we came across a stone carver, complete in kilt and Crocs, selling small stone amulets with ancient writing. Anna had 10 Euros burning a hole in her pocket and the fellow was kind enough to carve her name on it, interrupted by a cell phone of course.



The Cliffs of Moher

After our west coast visit we started the long trek south to Cork to be ready to meet the Bobs as they came in. I wanted to take a little side trip to see the Ring of Kerry but was struck down by a case of Irish Revenge (bad food perhaps?) so we skipped it and headed directly to Crosshaven, home of the oldest yacht club in the world, The Royal Cork Yacht Club and our reunion with Midwatch.