In which Sid and Doris do No Sailing but walk over the bogs to Dalabrog.
Before even getting up Sid is thinking about getting the engine to start reliably and Doris has emailed the hirers. The workshop manual for the Volvo Penta 30hp engine is soon on the iPad. The starter motor is behind the alternator which will mean getting at it through a hatch in the shower. More accessible is the control panel which we can get at through a cockpit locker. Behind a bit of ply we see the back of the fuel gauge, rev counter and engine start panel. A wire wiggle finds nothing loose but the push buttons will now start the engine. So a loose connection. The charterers give us permission to pull the multi-pin connector which we flood with WD40. During the day we start it up to test it about a dozen times and it goes every time. We have a very strict rule which is Never Go To Sea With A Problem, because it takes two problems to make an emergency. The tests reassure us that the intermittent fault is fixed.
The day is to be a busy one with No Sailing. Showers, laundry, boat cleaning and then a walk across South Uist to Dalabrog. These islands are rock and peat bog. The sky is blue and the wind is light as we walk up the main road, the A865. Some vans come past, some more than once.
We see a Morris Minor and a smart Fire Station but for conveyance of the day it is hard to beat the fish farm work boats. We let the bus go by to have the pleasure of the leg stretch.
Dalabrog is at a major junction with signs to last night’s stop at Lochmaddy.
The Co-Op is one of the largest buildings. As we queue to pay we are lucky enough to see a stereotype tousled senior buying a big bottle of Bells, twenty Lambert and Butler and what looked like a very large tin of dog food. He handed the cashier a fistful of crumples notes and she very generously gave nearly all of it back. It might be hard to know how to fill the time around here and shortening your time is not completely irrational.
Sid and Doris dearly love to find public transport and on the way back wait at a bus stop. Doris has timed this. The otherwise-empty bus stops, the driver gathers our details for his COVID sheet and Doris hints gently that we would like to go up to the marina. Though it is technically not on the route we chat about Madness and ska music all the way to the harbour.
In the afternoon Dr and Mrs Fowler arrive aboard a very tidy oldish Swan of maybe 46 or 50 feet. (For the non-boaters, this is a top brand. Maybe a Bentley of the sea.) They too have chosen to be blown on. They have been sailing the area for 50 years though also have RORC painted on the stern in gently faded paint for very serious Royal Offshore Racing Club. The harbour master tells Doris all about them. They are over 70, so like their boat they are tidy and oldish; very slightly built but being so expert will rarely require much strength. The Dr later tells us there is no companionway (steps) just a ladder from deck to saloon. The demands of Swan owners have changed, as modern Swans now have all mod cons to combine cruising with racing.
We fritter the day reading, looking at the scenery and the fishing traffic. We are right by the ferry dock but because one of the ships is broken this service is down to twice a week. Busy, busy.