After fog and rain comes an unusual Scottish mini-summer. The journey aboard the ‘Bolero’ takes us from Tobermory onwards along the Isle of Mull, into the Sound of Sleat and on to the remote Loch Nevis: with seafood, gusts of wind, dolphins, seals and minke whales.
Tobermory during Scotland’s mini-summer
You have to take the weather in Scotland as it comes. And boy, does it come! The weather forecast promises sunshine and temperatures of around 30 degrees. Right now, basking in the first warm rays of sunshine, a fisherman is mooring his boat and casting his catch – plastic baskets full of lobster crabs – into the water on long lines to keep them fresh. “I sell the best ones straight here to the restaurants,” he says, adding with a laugh: “And the rest goes to Europe.”
We’d love to try his catch of the day in one of the local eateries, but the rare Scottish mini-summer has drawn crowds of people away on short breaks. Without a booking, there’s no chance of getting a table in the restaurants. So it’ll have to be fast food. But what a choice! In the bright green-striped stall at Fisherman’s Pier Seafood, they prepare for us: super-fresh scallops with exceptionally good black pudding, grilled haddock served with coleslaw, green salad and freshly baked bread. Eaten from simple cardboard boxes as the sun sets, whilst children whizz across the bay in Topper dinghies and the small, colourful fishing boats bob up and down at the pier. Who needs a restaurant when you’ve got this?
At the door of the Mishnish Pub, a young man beams at us. “There’s nothing left to eat. I’m the chef and I’ve finished for the day,” he explains. “But you can have a drink here all night long. This is Scotland!” he adds with a laugh. Inside, an inscription above the fireplace extends a warm welcome, painted in gold letters on dark wood: “Welcome! Have a seat, grab a drink and make yourself at home.”
The wooden floor creaks beneath our footsteps; through the windows, the last of the day’s light is fading over the bay. Other guests ask, in a friendly and interested manner, where we’re from and where we’re going. It takes a moment to find common ground linguistically, as the Scottish dialect is a world away from what we learnt at school and university. Usually, though, just two sentences with a Teutonic twang are enough to bring the two ends of the same language to a common middle ground. A young man tells us about the rather hard life up here, especially since Brexit, though the offshore industry is providing a bit of a boost. A few weeks on an oil rig or at a wind farm, then just as long at home – that brings a certain degree of prosperity. But for some, it comes at a high price, if the weeks off are spent mainly on whisky tastings and pints of lager. “We could then call Tobermory ‘not-so-sober-mory’.”
Whisky, waterfalls and woodland on Mull
Tobermory also has its own distillery, strategically situated right by the harbour, with the River Gearr Abhainn behind it, which used to provide the power for the milling and mashing processes. Its water collects higher up in the hills and flows down in cascades and a mighty waterfall. The path up leads along the coast through a dense forest. Time and again, smaller and larger waterfalls cascade down the steep hillside, whilst the river winds its way through small rapids.
Gnarled trees stand upright or lie, broken by one of the many storms, covered in moss on the forest floor. Ancient stones still mark the foundations of former dwellings. Small gaps in the branches offer a clear view across the bay, the Sound of Mull and the Highlands beyond. A vast, living mosaic that glows bright green in the sun and then fades again beneath swiftly passing clouds.
Above, the waterfall roars majestically down a steep wall of dark stone. The ground along the path to its edge bears traces of moorland, old tree roots and rock. The wind carries no man-made sounds, but instead the scent of blossoms, woodland and moorland, with a hint of the sea and salt.
Later, after our meal at Macgochans Pub by the harbour, we’ll rediscover all these flavours in a small glass of 15-year-old Tobermory: Scotland distilled. The crew of a tall ship are sitting next to us. A Portuguese man comes over to us. “How do you like it here?” he asks, anticipating the answer: “I love it!”
North-West Itinerary: Mull, Ardnamurchan and the Small Isles
The next morning, we set a course north-west in moderate winds. For once, the wind is blowing fairly steadily, albeit weakly. The boat slowly passes along the wind-exposed side of the Isle of Mull. Only a few scattered trees grow here and there; the rest is covered in a green down. We pass Corrachadh Mòr, the westernmost point of the British mainland, and a little further north, the large Ardnamurchan lighthouse. The grey-brown rock on the starboard side appears layered, its upper edges overgrown with moss. Not a single tree or shrub that could take root here. To port lie the Small Isles, Muck and Eigg, and the pointed mountain peaks of Rhúm, followed later by the Isle of Skye. So many possible destinations for a Nordic island-hopping trip!
As you enter the Sound of Sleat, the Tidal current In the deep blue water, the waves are once again boisterous, albeit small, before a long swell from astern, coming off the Atlantic, gently rocks the boat. The wind dies down. Along the rugged coastline, we make out small coves and larger lochs with golden, gleaming beaches. Flocks of cormorants colonise entire rock formations, whilst a razorbill lands on the water. Far ahead, the Highlands rise up – the foreground ones, greener and flatter, whilst the majestically high peaks lie far in the distance, shrouded in a blue haze.
Gusts, downdrafts and dolphins in the Sound of Sleat
Within a few minutes, the wind picks up again. First 18 knots, then 25. No sooner is the sail up than it needs reefing again, especially as strong gusts and downdrafts keep swirling around the boat. “We’ve seen this plenty of times here,” says Edgar. “Sometimes the gusts are twice as strong as the base wind.” Dolphins are having a field day, racing alongside the boat.
At Loch Ceann Traigh, the wind is blowing strongly against us, but in the deep bay, a sandy cliff face and tall, wooded mountains offer shelter. We drop anchor at a depth of ten metres, well clear of the other three boats in this beautiful spot. The scent of pine and sand wafts over from the shore. A northern gannet caws loudly, whilst storm petrels quack in unison. As the sun sets behind the Hebrides, it first bathes the sky in vivid shades of orange, then, well past midnight, in every colour of the pastel palette. Absolute silence and wafts of mist hovering off the islands lend the night an almost exaggerated air of mystery.
Loch Nevis and Mallaig: Seclusion, a pub and the island railway
The atmosphere was quite different the following afternoon in Scotland’s most remote pub, in Inverie on the northern shore of Loch Nevis. At the bar of the Old Forge, a group of young men in kilts – in patterns ranging from tartan to camouflage – with their socks pulled up tight and clogs on their feet, were laughing. Outside, live music is playing, featuring a flute and a guitar. The food being brought out from the kitchen looks very appetising, but once again, all the tables are booked.
Cars are only permitted here with a special permit; anyone not arriving by ferry must walk at least 27 kilometres. Lucky are those who arrive here under their own steam. And not just because of the mooring buoys and the once again breathtaking views between the high mountains: On our way here, we spent a long time watching a large pod of dolphins as they darted through the bay at lightning speed, repeatedly leaping and performing pirouettes, as well as seals peering curiously out of the water. To top it all off, minke whales also swam leisurely past, their backs and fins glistening in the sun.
Mallaig, just round the corner to the left as you leave Loch Nevis, is a bustling fishing village and the starting point for ferry crossings to the Hebrides – but it’s also a must-visit for Harry Potter fans. This is where the red train with its black steam locomotive sets off – the very train that, in the novel, takes the young wizard to Hogwarts and, in real life, takes its fans through the Western Highlands. Little nods to wizards and witches can be found all over the village.
The paths climb steeply. High up, looking out over flowering fuchsia hedges, I am treated to one last magnificent view of an equally fabulous archipelago, before the train takes me back to Glasgow.
Christina and Edgar continue sailing. They come across bays with beaches that are every bit as good as those in the Caribbean, spot parrots on the secluded island of Lunga and stroll through the ruins of old villages – in Scotland’s Wild West, where every cove and every village surpasses even the wildest expectations.
West Highlands area: Weather, wind and navigation
Wind and weather: The best time to visit is between May and September, with average daytime temperatures of 17 to 20 degrees, although night-time temperatures can drop below 10 degrees. In early summer, the wind tends to blow from the north-east; later in the season, it blows from the south-west at 10 to 15 knots. On the coasts, gusts and sudden changes in wind direction are to be expected, and storms are also possible. When using weather apps, UKV, the high-resolution Weather model from the UK Met Office, which proved to be the most reliable during the trip.
Navigation: The tidal current is usually less than two knots, but can reach up to eight knots in narrow passages. When the wind is against the current, conditions quickly become unpleasant; careful route planning is essential. The tidal range varies between 2.50 and 5 metres, depending on the location and the tidal period. There are many ferries and merchant ships on the main routes.
Ports and anchorages: During the season, marinas book up quickly; advance booking is recommended and, in some cases, compulsory. Most marinas have floating jetties. The marina guide ‘Welcome Anchorages’ is available free of charge at many marina offices and is also available online as a PDF.
In the bays and lochs, you can drop anchor or moor to a mooring buoy when the weather is suitable. Cruising sailors have specially equipped their boats with the “Antares 814 Charts” detailed digital – though unofficial – nautical charts of the anchorages and channels in western Scotland. They are drawn to a scale more than ten times larger than the official UKHO charts and show significantly more detail, such as water depths and potential large submerged rocks. Some charts also include areas that fall dry at low tide or seabed gradients for anchoring.
Getting here If you’re not travelling by boat, you can fly to Edinburgh or Glasgow. Many coastal towns are easily accessible from there by bus or train, travelling through breathtakingly beautiful countryside. A valid passport and an Electronic Travel Authorisation (ETA) are required for entry. The ETA is available at GOV.UK or via the ‘UK ETA’ app. It costs around 20 euros. Please note: third-party websites charge significantly higher fees!
Series: ‘The Wild West, Scottish Style’
Part 2: From Mull to Loch Nevis
Further reading on the area: Western Scotland: rugged but welcoming.
Webinar tip: If you’d like to plan your trip through the Western Highlands more safely, taking into account tidal currents and tidal range, this Webinar on tidal sailing the basics of tide calculation.
Are dolphins, minke whales and secluded anchorages reason enough to head for a stretch of water with sudden changes in the weather and strong gusts? Share your thoughts and experiences of Scotland in the comments.
Ursula Meer
Redakteurin Panorama und Reise