bridget martin

Monday 9 June
The sky and sea meet on a misty, stone grey horizon and the green of the trees and hills is muted. Rain falls like gravel on the roof of the boat and soft waves lap the hull. The wind has eased today but amidst the gloom there is a sense of dejection – everyone seems to be waiting. Waiting for a window, an opportunity, an opening. Yesterday we saw a window and after being tied up to a pontoon for several weeks due to strong southwesterly winds, we finally released our mooring lines. Heading down Kerrera Sound and into the Firth of Lorn we had the bow pointing towards Puilladobhrain, a small and sheltered anchorage where we hoped to stay for a couple of nights. The window however, closed abruptly when we realised that the anchorage was full and with the wind picking up and the light fading we decided to cut our losses and head back over a very lumpy sea to Kerrera. Our plan hadn’t worked out, life had other ideas for us. Now tied up again we will make another plan and wait for another opportunity. Plans get made and they get broken and they get made again. Differently. It’s easy to feel like a failure but this is the inherent messiness of life. 
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
~Samuel Beckett

Tuesday 10 June
After the monochrome of yesterday, today is in full technicolour – greens, blues and yellows, startling in their vibrancy. The sea is indigo and silver, glinting in the morning sun. On a day like this anything seems possible. And yet we know that more strong winds and heavy seas are forecast for later in the day and overnight. A sheltered marina can offer false confidence. We are not bad weather sailors if we can help it as not only is our boat our home but she is sixty years old, heavy and slow. We cannot outrun a storm and being out in rough weather is no fun at all.
In the sailing guide The Firth of Lorn is described thus,
This wide stretch of water is exposed to the Atlantic and demands respect in conditions of heavy swell and when strong wind against tide exist. If the southwest going ebb tide is running against a southwest wind, conditions may be very unpleasant, particularly leaving Kerrera Sound and off Easdale and Insh Island, where the contrast with the protected passages of the Sound of Luing and southward is most marked.
Re-reading this passage today the words that jump out at me are demands respect. Every now and again the wild, untameable and beautiful sea reminds us of this. It reminds us of our vulnerability and insignificance. It evokes fear and awe. It humbles us and demands respect. It teaches us patience because we are forced to wait and bide our time. Impatience is not only futile but may even be dangerous. We can make our plans but unless the sea and wind allow they remain on hold. Have patience.
I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall-
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.
~Mary Oliver

Friday 13 June
Slate grey waves roll across Oban Bay and hit the boat with a whack. The wind is warm and coming from the east, pushing us up against the pontoon. The sky has moved through a palette of greys and is now pearly white, shrouding the sunlight that is to come. It was a rough night with heavy rain and Force 7 winds shrieking and howling and battering the boats but there is a softening now, a hint of calm. There are mooring lines to be adjusted and leaks to fix and a continuing effort to be patient. The sea and the wind dance to their own tune and we have to wait until it’s a tune we can hear. Awake in the night with a head full of worries I thought about patience, wondering whether in our fast and efficient world it is a declining virtue. We have fast food, fast finance and fast fashion. Fast communication stripping language of any beauty, fast travel ignoring the journey in its rush to get to the destination and fast gardens where plastic grass is favoured over the beautiful vagaries of nature. Next day delivery can’t come soon enough, we want it now.
Why is patience so important? Because it makes us pay attention
~Paulo Coelho

Saturday 14 June
There is a soft stillness to the day, the water silken, the sky wisps of grey and white. The Inshore Forecast tells us this:

Mull of Kintyre to Ardnamurchan Point (15)
Strong winds are forecast
24 hour forecast:
Wind
Variable 2 to 4 becoming northwesterly 3 to 5,
occasionally 6 at first in south, then backing
westerly or southwesterly
Sea State
Mainly slight or moderate, but smooth to slight
in shelter.
Weather
Occasionally rain then fair, then drizzle later.
Visibility
Moderate or good, occasionally poor.
Outlook for the following 24 hours:
Wind
Westerly backing southwesterly 3 to 5,
becoming variable 2 for a time in south,
occasionally 6 later in north.
Sea State
Mainly slight or moderate, but smooth or slight
to the east of Islay and Jura.
Weather
Occasional drizzle
Visibility
Moderate or good, occasionally poor.

Later a breeze picks up, teasing the surface of the water and making the trees whisper. And then the sweep of rain. We wait and we plan, looking at weather systems and forecasts, tide times and tidal streams, anchorages and harbours. Wednesday looks like a possibility – time for a new plan, a fresh approach, time to try again. Maybe we are beginning to hear the sound of a distant tune ~ Kerrera Sound, The Firth of Lorn, The Sound of Luing, The Sound of Jura, Sruth na Maoile and the Celtic Sea ~ Lilting and lyrical, beckoning and inviting, all the way home to Wales.