Okay… …you got me. That’s not technically a puffin, but HMS Prince of Wales [Ahem, Prince of Whales to you Mr President], which is typically the first floaty thing I snap when we’re heading down river. Be assured that the gratuitous fluffy-puffin shot comes later.
We set off late afternoon, it was a bit overcast, but very settled. We unfurled our Macwester Malin’s genoa when we set off, but brought it back in within minutes as there was no useable wind.
We started spotting puffins between St. David’s and Dalgety Bay, which is further west than normal. The admittedly more ‘fuzzy’ than fluffy puffin above was snapped at Aberdour, further east than normal. We typically see one or two puffins crossing Mortimer’s Deep, but we must have spotted six to eight, which is the most we’ve seen since the puffin wreck a few years back – good news!
The settled weather continued and the sun put in an appearance not long after we arrived at Aberdour. The crew presented me with some raw poultry plus matches, and it slowly dawned on me that I had better dig out my chef’s hat.
A passing fisherman very kindly presented us with a freshly-caught, recently-deceased mackerel, which went straight on the barbie. I’d like to tell you that it was the most wonderful mackerel that we’ve ever tasted, but it was dreadful. It was rubbery and dry …next time, it’ll be wrapped in foil with some herbs and butter.
The crew and I enjoyed doing nothing in particular; going for walks, catching up with local club members, and basically just taking it easy.
We watched the wildlife including herons, ducks, and thousands of tiny fish thread their way through the scenery surrounding our yacht. We saw sea swimmers swimming across the bay. We read. We played cards. We watched box set VoD.
During a discussion on the pier, the local harbourmaster told us about diving boards over to the west of the beach at Aberdour. We had wondered about these decaying structures for many years, but didn’t realise that these rusty relics had originally been diving boards. In the photograph above, you can make out the remains of two diving boards [left and centre] as well as steps that have been carved out of the rock.
It was cloudier on day three, and we managed to squeeze in some sailing without using the engine on the journey back home against a light westerly. Neither of us were keen to leave; as usual we were back home all too soon. Still, there’s always the next trip to look forward to!
Disturbance Level – minimal
November 24, 2018Things have been pretty hectic this year [2018], and regular readers of this blog will have noticed that I’ve been behind with my updates. With our yacht winterised, we booked a week in Seatown [Gardenstown] at the very last-minute …to squeeze in some much-needed R&R later in November.
While not technically afloat, the cottage that we went to is about as close as it’s possible to get to the sea; with the seawall doubling as a single track road that runs along the front. As we stayed at the very same cottage last year, we knew what to expect. Nonetheless, driving along the seawall in the dark isn’t for the faint-hearted.
It wasn’t warm, however the weather was better than expected and we managed to get out and about every day. On the few occasions that it rained, we retreated inside with the coal fire to keep us toasty. Most evenings we nipped outside in the dark, with a drink in hand to experience the waves crashing against the seawall, and peer through the darkness to the navigation lights bobbing around just offshore.
We visited many little coastal villages including Portsoy, and the lovely Sandend. We typically ate out at lunchtime, including treating ourselves to one of our favourites, Cullen Skink …which was okay, but fell a tad short of our expectations given that we were actually in Cullen and the restaurant claimed to serve the world’s best Cullen Skink. However, the waves down on the beach were pretty awesome that day [above].
Awesome, but not destructive like the waves that hit Tenerife that week. I mention this, because we had been booked-up for a fortnight in Tenerife that very week, but the travel agent cancelled our trip at the last-minute …hence our quicker than expected return to Gardenstown.
Similarly, we didn’t expect to be back in Pennan so soon, however we enjoyed being back. Having changed mobile operators since our last visit, I managed to get a signal and called the phone box. It was reassuring to hear it ring, and now I know that on the [rare] occasions that I call from back home …I am actually making the phone box ring in ‘Ferness’.
As for the aurora borealis; I was much better prepared on this trip, having downloaded a real-time ‘Aurora Watch’ app to my iPhone. Unfortunately my early optimism was built on shakey foundations that ebbed away with the mobile signal. The nearest signal was over 500m away from our broadband-less cottage, and so the text message that I would receive when the northern lights would be visible at our location …would never be received.
Oh well, looks like a trip to Reykjavik is on the cards!
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