I've been putting off doing this blog entry, no prizes for guessing why. Peccadillo will not be going to the Atlantic sweeties and there's an end to it. Dunoon is as far as I go. There was rather more excitement in the first 10 legs of the journey than I'd intended for the whole thing, and after the breakdown last Monday I had a little sit down of my own... weighing up adventure versus responsibility.
Bottom line is that it's one thing to risk my own life, but those of others? No way, and I can't handle her on my own out here. The bob on the Firth of Clyde was not life threatening but the Forth was. And I can see how to make it safe but don't have the wherewithal to make it happen.
1) at least 6 months to just sit and wait, be available (my crew too) for good stretches of settled weather (it's been a nightmare these past few weeks!)
2) at least 1 large rib (that's one of those large rubber power boats) for company, assistance in the event of breakdown and the occasional push of speed
3) lots and lots of money to pay the astronomical fees of these marinas that charge by length; at 50' I'm paying the same rate as HUGE sea going vessels... no account of the actual size of the boat
Sooooo, as everyone gathers for Falkirk Wheel 10 celebrations and I sing happy birthday to me I look back over it all and think, what a disaster? Embarrassment? Frayed knot sweeties... I sit out here in the Holy Loch (rather too far out to be honest... the wind's picking... force 7 tonight and she's fair gettin shoogled aboot... so that's why the other yachts snuggled right in to the marina!). It's the most beautiful mooring south of Croabh near Oban the boaters say... I sit here with a little brown dog and a fine cup of coffee and think, Peccadillo is not for these tidal waters, not with any dignity... we both knew that. But d'you know what? She's the only boat I have, the one that I know best, and this was my only chance to have a go at it... so we did.
And we've had a grand old time. There's a wee weather window coming in on Sunday so we'll wend our way back to Bowling via a couple of other marinas. It's the canal, but no' the Crinan canal for me!