My Summer of 2023

Chapter 5, Sailing

Would this be the beginning of my experience as “The Old Man and the Sea”?

Awakening at daybreak, I was soon up and on deck welcoming the new day. It was quiet, nary a ripple in the water, with perfect reflections of a nearby stone home, trees and a lone red rowboat.

After breakfast, we cast off and motored into the Crinan Canal to the locks. The series of locks lowered us down to sea level and thus out into the ocean. Soon thereafter they hoisted the jib sail, the wind catching it and fully billowed, we proceeded northward on our first day of sailing along the western shore of Scotland.

There are numerous islands there on Scotland’s western side. Where we were sailing are the Inner Hebrides an island group or chain of islands known as an archipelago. The largest of these islands of the Inner Hebrides is The Isle of Mull, around which we would be sailing over the next several days. Prior to Mull Island, however, we were to spend two nights at locations near the mainland.

The day was gorgeous. Other boats, mostly sailboats, were also out upon the sea. We did not travel far, and by early afternoon we slowly entered Puilladobhrain (Pool of the Otter) a small secure bay where we anchored for our first overnight. This is a popular Scottish bay in which to anchor, and several other boats entered, one flying an American flag.

With time to explore in the remainder of the afternoon, we lowered the little dinghy boat with its electric motor, cozied up onboard, puttered to shore on the Island of Seil. There we walked a short distance over a hill to the Clachan Bridge, “The Bridge Over the Atlantic”. Aptly named, this stone masonry humpback bridge crosses over a narrow waterway which separates the Scottish mainland from the Island of Seil.

Across the bridge is the Tigh an Truish Pub the first that I would visit while in Scotland. Pronunciation would be like “tine and trews” or “House of Trousers”. Not a habitual drinker, I would not pass up the opportunity to live like a Scotsman as we enjoyed a pint inside this old place. Then, sufficiently lubricated by the ale, Graham invited me to a Scotch Whiskey taste test. Having chosen two examples, he returned to the table with the two drams, setting them down in front of me. My objective was to taste sample both and decide on which was most preferable to me. Sniffing first, and then a little sip, I let my tongue savor the taste and feel of it in my mouth before releasing down my throat. A moment to reflect on the smell, taste and aftereffects, I proceeded to test the next dram example, repeating the same procedures as with the first. Not satisfied to yet offer any opinion on either, I took my time repeating my tastings to get a real feel for the best of the two. The two choices were The Glenlivet 12 and Jura 12 Single Scotch Whiskies. My choice was the Glenlivet 12, which Graham had anticipated would be my choice. By no means a connoisseur of alcohol in any format, I felt pleased with myself in having at least a modicum of refinement for passing that test.

In a short while, more patrons arrived at the pub, some with dogs that quietly lay about, as conversations and drinking ensued. It was a nice afternoon to while away some time and feel some of the Scottish flavor of living.

Maybe a wee bit wobbly, I managed to walk back up the path with Graham and Maralyn, back down to the dingy, get on board and successfully make it back onto the sailboat with my hosts. It was a quiet rest of the day, and I slept soundly throughout the night.