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A Long Way To Get Blown

Last summer we moored in Loch Scresort, on the island of Rum in the Scottish Isles after a long sail from Loch Na Droma Buidre on the mainland. After a good night at anchor the rest of the crew were keen to climb some Corbets. Apparently impossible to do all of them in a day if you arrive on Rum by scheduled ferry, but possible if you set off early from your boat. 

Sadly, at this moment it was the time when the new electric outboard informed us that, somehow, it had lost charge since we last used it in Tobermory. No problem, the two female crew members were two of the fittest people I know, and they happily paddled the inflatable ashore and off they went. 

I, not being one of the fittest people I know, decided to have a quiet day onboard in this beautiful anchorage. But as the day wore on, the wind increased from the west, blowing straight out of the harbour and right across to Skye, 10 miles downwind. 

As the afternoon wore on, I got more and more worried about the inflatable’s return to the yacht. It was slightly upwind of the jetty, but quite a distance out. I found the longest warp I could and tied fenders along its length and let it out from the stern. I hoped that would give them a larger target to reach. 

They were not aware of this and so set off, paddling furiously, and taking a rest at every mooring buoy they reached. Eventually, and very tired, they arrived back at the yacht and I could retrieve my floating line, relieved that it had not been required. 

One crew member was still on the mountains as he was determined to bag his last mountain. When he got back, we took the yacht under motor to the jetty to pick him up. No-one could face such a difficult and risky paddle again. 

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