I know, I know — I haven’t posted in forever. So here’s my post for June. And for anyone wondering Im currently halfway down the west coast of Ireland! aim to get that post up tomorrow.
Stornoway to the Isle of Skye
I arrived in Stornoway late Thursday evening. I had a few days to explore before the weather turned wild, and then far too many days trapped in relentless wind and rain, just waiting for a window to move on. Eight days later, finally, Friday looked good. I filled up on fuel and water and set off around 11am.
The first few hours were still, hardly any wind, so I motored slowly south. As I approached the Shiant Islands, the wind began to build, and I put in a reef. I’d been able to see the islands for over 10 miles, but just as I got closer, a thick cloud bank rolled in and swallowed them completely, despite blue skies and sunshine all around.
Once past the islands, I bore away and started picking up speed, sailing steadily at 6 knots down the Little Minch. By evening, the wind was blowing a solid Force 6-7. I was glad for the two reefs and looking forward to calmer waters. I’d planned to tuck into Ardmore Bay for the night, but as I got closer, I realised it was way too exposed. Instead, I continued upriver and eventually anchored by the castle at Dunvegan.
I’d been pretty ill with my period and was absolutely shattered after the 10-hour sail. Despite the good weather, I knew I needed to stop and rest. Even strong painkillers hadn’t done much, and I felt drained.
The next morning, I woke to find I’d dragged anchor in the night, almost two cables from where I’d dropped it. It gave me a proper fright, but thankfully no harm done. I downloaded an anchor alarm app for use in the future. I motored further upriver and picked up one of the visitors’ moorings. I stayed there three nights. I did nothing except sleep, eat, and slowly get my strength back.
Isle of Skye to Canna – 24th June
Once I felt better, I set sail again — this time for the Isle of Rum, with a few potential anchorages along the way if needed. The wind was a northerly Force 3/4, and while the land was blanketed in heavy fog, the sea was clear under bright skies. It took a while to motor the 6 miles out of the estuary, but once I hoisted the sails and rounded the headland, the view took my breath away: mountains, islands, and even the distant Outer Hebrides all in sight.
I headed south, then southeast toward Rum which looked massive. On the chart, all these islands look like little rocks, but in real life they always feel towering and dramatic.
By 4pm I was flagging and, on a friend’s recommendation, decided to check out Canna. I’m so glad I did. The anchorage was absolutely packed with over 20 boats in a relatively small bay. All the mooring buoys were taken, so I droped anchore and settled in.
The next morning, a local couple came over in their dinghy and invited me for a cuppa and a chat. They were on a sailing holiday too and, like everyone else, planning to head to Tobermory before the next round of bad weather rolled in. I stayed put cuz Canna felt special, and I didn’t want to fight for space in a busy tourist port. I was also still anxious after dragging anchor in Dunvegan, so once the couple left, I moved onto their mooring for peace of mind.
Canna might just be my favourite stop yet: a sheltered bay with a big heart. The island runs on trust and community. An honesty shop, a shared hut with WiFi and electricity, and just over 20 residents. I met friends of friends and made instant connections. In a place so remote, it’s wild how small the world can feel. For a few days, Canna felt like home.
Canna to Tobermory
“What’s the story in Balamory? Wouldn’t you like to know …”
I grew up with that show and it always makes me smile. My first proper yacht trip was cirunmnavigating the isle Mull on the Sea Cadets’ yacht TS Vigilant. I was 14, had taken the train up alone, didn’t know anyon, but made friends with the crew instantly. I even got to be skipper for a day and tought them to use the spinnaker. That trip gave me a love for big boat sailing and real confidence in myself.
I left Canna on Sunday 29th June. The weather was perfect a gentle run south with a steady breeze, and I made great speed. The entrance to the Sound of Mull was fine, but I hadn’t realised quite how many rocks were scattered around. I sailed the long way in, just to be sure, and arrived in Tobermory around 6pm.
The town was as beautiful as I remembered, with its little coloured houses, but absolutely rammed with boats. I didn’t even attempt the marina or the main moorings. Instead, I went a mile south, dropped anchor, and started cooking dinner.
Just as I was about to crawl into my sleeping bag… BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! Anchor alarm. Again.
The anchor had dragged. I turned on the engine, lifted anchor, and instead of trying again, I went for peace of mind and grabbed the very last visitor mooring in the bay, probably the one everyone else had avoided. It was awkward to pick up and took me three tries, but I eventually got it. It was 11:30pm and still light. I tied on and passed out.
The next day was grey and wet. I took the dinghy in and wandered around town. Every café was full of tourists hiding from the rain. I bought some bits from the shops and eventually treated myself to a meal at one of the hotels, honistly the best food I’d had in ages. But despite the colour and charm, it didn’t live up to my memories. Not because it wasn’t lovely — but because I felt a little lonely.
Tobermory to Oban and Crinan
The next day, the sun came back out. Forecast: Force 2–3 northerly. Couldn’t have asked for better.
I left at 10:30am, joining three other boats all catching the same tide. We all set sail down the Sound of Mull, one of the most beautiful stretches I’ve seen.
After a while, the others started pulling ahead; bigger boats, faster sails, more crew. So I challenged myself to put spinnaker up for the first time this season. It went up easily, and I was flying along. Music on the speakers, wind in my hair — I felt so alive, properly enjoying the moment, and the sailing.
I exited the Sound around 3pm and still had good speed, so I kept going, sailing past Oban and aiming for Crinan. The wind shifted forward and I had to drop the spinnaker, but all was well… until I hit Luing Sound.
The tide had been with me most of the day, but now as always it turned. In that narrow channel, it runs fast — at times faster than my boat. I spent a solid hour creeping forward at 1–2 knots, but eventually broke free and picked up speed again. I dropped anchor in a little northern bay at Crinan around 8:30pm.
Crinan to Islay – Port Ellen
Weather still holding, I pushed on the next morning. I left at 8:30 and motored out, heading south toward Islay. Forecast was for Force 1/2, so I figured it’d be another engine day but a few hours in, the wind picked up from the starboard side. Force 3. Engine off, sails no longer flogging.
With the tide in my favour, I was doing 6 knots and grinning. The breeze dropped off again as I rounded the south of Islay, but I made it into Port Ellen Marina by 6pm.
The forecast wasn’t looking great for the next few days, so I knew I’d be stuck here for a bit. But I could literally see Ireland on the horizon!!!
She sails 
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