That night it blew a real good one but we were hard aground in the harbour so katie squatted stolidly on portsoys sandy bottom
by the next morning the front had blown through and all was peace and quiet once more
As soon as katie was afloat we paddled out – heading along this wonderful 30 mile stretch of south shore – which is just a tiny portion of the estimated 400 miles of Moray coast
The Moray is all cliffs, rocks intrigueing little coves and stunningly beautiful beaches that can stretch further than the eye can see.
The moray is the biggest of all the scottish east coast mega firths . a full 70 miles wide across the mouth and thrusting deep, deep inland. Dozens of rivers and streams including the the spey, the Ness, the conan and the Beuly drain into the Moray bringing huge amounts of sediment down from the plains and mountains of Northern scotland but the glacier scraped Moray is 600 feet deep in places so it will never fill before the next ice age comes along and the mighty great glen glacier returns like an angry houseproud giant and shoves all the outwashed litter of rocks and sand further out into the north sea.
The Moray geology is mind bendingly complex – the fault of the great glen runs though this area of sedimentary rocks which have been transformed by once molten granite incursions like fat marbling through a piece of good beef.. This has all been re-shaped by the recurring central belt glacier and sea levels that have bobbed up and down through the millenia long before man pitched up here.
After following this delectable coast for 30 miles we turned north across to the Dornoch firth where we planned to find a nice sandy peaceful spot on which to park Katie for the night.
The Dornoch has a wonderful entrance – Tucked away behind the slightly sinister promontary of Tarbet ness is an entrancing labyrinth of gracefully sculptured sand banks – as perfectly formed as physics can ever make them.
I began to feel at home putting in late shore side tacks made only when scraping sigh of centre plate on sugar textured scottish granite sand gave warning of shelving water.
As an east anglian shallow sailor I began to feel in my element –
I could have played for hours but it was getting late in the evening and after 14 hours of sailing Jill was ready to stop.
so we tucked in behind Tain bar, dropped the hook into four feet of clear water with a nearly complete 360 degrees of shelter and settled in for the night…
the next morning… well what could be nicer than to slide the hatch back and find yourself in a place like Tain inlet.
We walked around a bit and breathed in the wonder of it all.
as the tide started to invade our place of sand and certainty we returned to the boat to breakfast on toast and marmalade while watching the twice daily miracle unfold around and undeneath us.
Tides are amazing things – some ancient cultures thought that they were powered by a seaweed draped neptune style over the horizon jolly green giant who gently breathed the water back and forth. Us modernists are too sophisticated for such beliefs – we now know that tides are caused by water molecules talking with the molecules a quarter of a million miles away on the moon . scientists tell us that something called god particles are involved in this process – a theory which I find is barely more credible than the now widely debunked water breathing big man nonsense.
As soon as Katies keels kissed goodbye to the sandy tidal bed of the Tain we headed out back around Tarbet head and into the expanses of the Moray. Despite the current calm the weather man was promising a bit of a northerly blow the coming night so we laid a course for the excellent shelter and twee little shops of lossiemouth on the south sore of the Mighty moray.
just as we turned west along the shore dodging the endless nets and pots three dolphins turned up –
we were only doing two knots with the tide and they started a little slap dance – for us, for each other, for the fishes – dunno. I have asked around and not got a good replay as to what you see unfolding.
When we turned south towards lossie mouth the northerly started to get behind us and Katie powered through the growing swell…
By the time we got close to the Lossie shore it was starting to get a bit nasty and I was very pleased once we made it safely through the harbour entrance – which was far too rough and splashy to risk running the camera.
That night the wind got a bit serious but we were safe and snug and warm and dry inside this lovely little haven. I sleep very well when stormbound in a safe harbours. Wonderful.