Text: Caro Käßler
Our seven-strong crew is getting the ‘Sparkling Spirit’ ready in August. After months of planning, our cruise begins with one aim in mind: proper sailing away from the usual cruising grounds.
Starting in the capital, Lerwick
Lerwick, the capital, welcomes us with its Nordic simplicity: grey houses, colourful fishing boats, small shops, charming cafés and pubs full of character. Around a third of the total population lives here – some 7,500 people.
It all seems tailor-made for sailors – or those who want to become sailors. We meet for a crew briefing at Café Fjara, overlooking the bay. We’ve already had to scrap our original route plan: following an unusually stable midsummer, Storm Floris is bringing rain and gusts of up to 74 knots.
The weather dictates our plans
We’re giving Fair Isle, to the south, a miss, which means the west coast of the Shetlands is off limits too. We’re staying in the east, in the lee of the island, where the weather is a bit milder – relatively speaking. How does the saying go? “We can’t change the wind, but we can adjust our sails.”
Our Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 43 is ready to go. It’s still the only charter yacht in the region. The season is short, and the weather is unpredictable. Anyone who sails here isn’t doing it for the hammock and a Hugo. They’re doing it for nature and adventure. Sailing in the Shetlands requires preparation – and respect.
Winds of 20 to 30 knots are normal
Strong tidal currents, unmarked rocks, narrow inlets and notorious tidal races – choppy stretches of water that can lead to dangerous conditions when the wind is against the current. Proactive navigation is essential. A tide table and local sailing guide are essential items of equipment. The weather? Surprisingly rough. Winds of 20 to 30 knots are normal. But in return, there are: seals, dolphins, puffins – and a landscape that gets under your skin.
Once our provisions have been stowed away and the initial safety briefing is over, our skipper surprises us with a welcome whisky straight from the local distillery. We’re sitting in the cockpit, enjoying the sun – perhaps for the last time this week.
Impressive rock formations
We set sail from Lerwick through the Bressay Sound – and immediately the genoa halyard snaps. An impromptu switch to the spinnaker halyard saves us from having to spend three days in harbour. After 75 minutes of tinkering, the genoa is up and running again.
On the port side, the Giant’s Leg glides past – an impressive rock formation set against a dramatically rugged coastline. Seabirds are flocking around us: northern gannets, gulls and even a few puffins are keeping us company.
To Symbister on Whalsay
We had originally planned to drop anchor at Noss and visit the spectacular sandstone cliffs on shore. However, due to the delay caused by the headsail, there is no time for that today. We luff up and carry on sailing towards Whalsay.
The clouds part and the sun breaks through. We apply sun cream: the ozone layer is thin up here. At around 8 pm, we reach Symbister on the west side of Whalsay and moor alongside the inner jetty. Our first day at sea ends peacefully.
Way out there: the Outer Skerries
A storm warning has been issued for the following day: it’s due to kick off at midday. With two reefs in the mainsail, we’re already heading north-east by 6.45 am, aiming to moor at the Out Skerries in good time. We’ve only nine miles to go, with moderate seas and a fresh breeze.
Fortunately, the forecast rain front is still some way off. Soon, a patchwork of bare rocks comes into view: barren, rugged, somewhere between sky, water and stone. Just 30 people live on the main islands of the Out Skerries – Bruray, Housay and Grunay.
We sail round Bound Skerry – Scotland’s easternmost point – with its striking lighthouse dating from 1858, set course for the north-eastern entrance and moor in the small harbour of Bruray.
Christian Tiedt
Editor Travel