Wednesday 20 June 2012


Jean Says: After we'd cleaned Arbroath out of smokies, it was time to clear out of Arbroath. Next stop was Eyemouth, which sounded like it would be full of Scottish East Coast promise. We had to leave Arbroath at the earliest time possible in order to get to Eyemouth before it was too shallow to get in. This seems to be the way down this East coast. Getting the right timing to be able to leave one port in time to get into the next one can be tricky. Also, the slightest swell in the wrong direction can prevent boats from entering or leaving many of the harbours on this coast. It pays to plan where you wouldn't mind being stuck, and once we'd seen Eyemouth, we decided to leave on the next suitable tide the following morning.
Eyemouth is a traditional and busy fishing port, but it appears to be quite run down, and even the large fisherman's mission is for sale. The pilot book states that 'the quayside taverns still reverberate with nautical swagger, so an amusing evening is guaranteed'. We went in search of a bit of nautical swagger and found that many of the taverns were out of business or in bad need of repair. We were quite relieved really because it meant that we could go to bed early, but were disappointed to have had a less amusing evening than we'd been led to expect.

Next Morning:
We were awakened by frenetic squawking. All the trawlers that we'd seen leaving the previous evening were returning. The sun was out and the harbour had come alive as the trawlers tide up and off-loaded their catch.
Seagulls were swirling around madly, or standing in droves on the quay walls looking for a chance to get an easy breakfast.
We need to get out by 7.00 at the latest to have enough tide to allow us to sail over the sand bar at the entrance of the harbour. It explained the timing of the grand exodus of the trawlers the previous night and their return early this morning. They had the same tidal constraints as us. Once out in the bay, the sea was lovely and calm, so we had coffee while we floated gently along the coast. Sitting in total peace on deck first thing in the morning in the middle of a calm sea with no-one else around is one of the many joys of boat life. The seals were out in force this morning, and you can't help thinking that they have an enviable life, swimming or languishing lazily in the water with an endless supply of fish suppers.

A Bob Joke:
What do you call a very small catamaran?
See below for answer......

We were looking out for any celebrities that might be checking in here....
(note the hotel's name)



Seagull City




We had a fairly leisurely day ahead of us and we wanted to see and anchor in the Farne Islands and have lunch there. Farne was a swirling mass of very stinky birds, which put us off staying for long. A quick look was all we fancied, before we carried on to Amble. The wind increased enough for us to sail smoothly along at a relaxing pace, and we finally crossed the invisible border back into England. From our comfortable 'gin and tonic' seats at the back of the boat, we were able to watch the soft green and pleasant coastline go by with its numerous ancient Northumbrian castles, and endless long sandy beaches. For us, that's sailing at its idyllic best.
Amble is a surprising place. The Geordie accent is very strong here, and yet we're only forty miles South of Scotland. The marina is friendly and attractive, but in the town, many of the shops have metal shutters, there's the odd smashed window and there are a lot of tough looking characters around. Vandalism could be a problem.
Amble used to be a coal mining town, but the last colliery closed in the 60's. After that, fishing returned as an important part of the economy, and that's in evidence everywhere. Looking at the number of expensive boats in the marina, there is obviously a contingent of wealthy people here. We're going on a walkabout tomorrow to find out more about Amble's culture and history. First impressions can be deceptive.


Answer: A Kittenmaran.

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