Peterhead to Whitehills

 

Peterhead Bay marina is next to an industrial dock

As soon as we got to Peterhead I was worrying about when we could leave it again, with strong westerlies due in the next few days. Peterhead is famous for being one of Scotland's less attractive spots, and having posted on Facebook that we had arrived safely I had messages from two FB friends with origins there – one didn't even know about her Peterhead family until she met some of them at a funeral, the other said her her entire family had moved to NZ to get away. Actually it's probably much nicer now than it used to be, but the marina is next to an industrial basin, although there is also a pleasant beach, and it's all a bit bleak. I walked up to the prison museum, which was the actual prison until 2013 (the prisoners moved half a mile down the road). I have subsequently heard that it's worth a visit, but made do with reading the noticeboard outside. Later I had a run in the other direction, almost into the middle of town but not quite, and found an enormous Aldi. The town is the kind of place where if you're out at 5.30pm and come across a chap walking on his own he's quite likely to be weaving about and singing or muttering to himself.

Old prison...

New prison

Downtown Peterhead. The Muckle Kirk was in use as a church until 2016

Our chances of escaping depended on Erika feeling better and I was working out transport options for staying where we were, but to my surprise and delight she said she could cope with a night passage, hopefully to Lossiemouth. The forecast models were inconsistent, but they did show light winds until early morning, mostly from the north. Well, they were accurate as far as Rattray Head, but as we curved around to head west the winds curved around too. Erika stood a watch from 0030 to 0230 but by the time I came on watch it was harder to keep up any speed at all on our course, which was due west. I zigged and I zagged but I just couldn't find a decent course. Annoyingly we were being overtaken by Camomile, which I'm pretty sure is the same Westerly Sealord we sailed in company with in 2021, but I think it must have different owners. She's 39ft long and has a bigger engine, and she just powered on and disappeared towards Inverness. Meanwhile our best course was taking us closer to the coast, which also means more chance of hitting fishing gear.

At 0330 I woke Erika to tell her we were giving up on Lossie and heading for Whitehills, just west of Banff. She was delighted, as her brother-in-law and his wife actually live in the village only five minutes' walk from the harbour. I spent the next hour trying to memorise the instructions for the extremely narrow entrance channel and sharp left-hand turn to the even narrower outer harbour. Just before 0600, thanks to a combination of a reasonable amount of tide, Erika's local knowledge and a small bit of grim determination, we were safely moored under the squeaky ramp in the outer harbour. At 10am I awoke to hear Bertie, the famous harbourmaster, guiding in another boat. Bless him, he agreed to squeeze us into the inner harbour – one of the few places we have been where Kalessin's modest 10m length looks huge. He took a line from our port quarter and squeezed us into a rather snug berth. To my extreme delight there is working shorepower as well. And here we seem likely to stay for a while, as endless strong westerlies gallop past outside. But the sky was blue, the sun was hot, we had excellent shelter and lovely surroundings, and my next crew can't get here until the 12th so I was going to have to wait somewhere – and this is an excellent spot.

Distance run: 37 nautical miles

Sunrise at sea

Kalessin looks huge in the compact harbour

Sea not as calm as it looks!