Glassy crossing of the Minch, white beaked dolphins and anchor at midnight under the new moon by the arch in the Shaints. Tula and Twister sneaked past in the night bound for the Monachs. We woke to strong sun and the crew opted to abandon the chase and explore the island. The ascent and descent is not for the faint of heart but the rewards and view from the top appeased our photographer whose shutter resembled the ticking chirp of a Grasshopper Warbler.
Our lazy saunter south took us past Scalpay and the light winds meant a landing at the service pier for the Lighthouse was called for. The light of course works fine but the buildings are a sad statement of a slow restoration project; we met two local and scantily clad sirens who told us of dark tales of mismanagement, had to restain mate and boy and cool them off by long emersion in a local loch.
After a night in Finsbay and breakfast of fresh Mackerel, with sun and no wind our plan was to explore Pabbay and wait for the returning Monarch Marauders. Pabbay's single conical peak guards the western approach to the Sound of Harris - it can be seen from far and wide and from the top we too could see far and wide; to the west St Kilda was clear and across the minch the north hills of Skye, the foreground of the sandy Harris beaches looked positively tropical.
Golden and Sea Eagles and late flocks of waders bound for the Arctic made my day. No sooner had we returned to Mollymawk than we were joined first by Twister and then by Tula - tales were told and the heat of the day quenched by refreshment; an appetiser indeed and in the gold of the setting sun a retreat through the Leverburgh Passage to Rodel to properly rehydrate.
No wind and sun again, more glassy seas, homeward bound. For Twister and Mollymawk and extra night in Tanera Beg, to wake in fog, a spinnaker run; 180 degree wind shift then a beat under reduced sail up Loch Broom. A trip to remember.