When I took this yesterday, I was slathering on the sunscreen and looking for my floppy hat, most unusual around here which is the entrance to the Clyde with the Ayrshire coast very dim in the background. The red object is my faithfull windvane which has steered my boat many thousands of miles including right round the world. I take the wheel myself only very occasionally.
This sunny passage led me to Campbelltown at the tip of the Kintyre peninsula where I again had my haircut by a bloke who claimed to have performed this same service for Sir Paul himself who is of course an occasional local resident. There is just a small pontoon here for yachts, it's basically a fishing port. The small space gets very crowded and therefore quite sociable although I felt this cosiness got a bit too much when I was woken from a peaceful sleep about midnight by a late arrival,crashing alongside and a bloke leaping onto my deck and peering down at me in bed through the open hatch.
The fishdock is directly opposite and is busy all the time. The catch is mainly langoustine, lively creatures about the size of your thumb when topped and tailed. They look very good but you don't see them in Morrison's, I suspect they all get sold for fancy prices in London. The boats unload them straight into the refrigerated trucks which carry them off.
Tomorrow I plan to head around the dreaded Mull, a passage which has to be carefully timed to take advantage of the fair tide. Next stop should be Islay which I think of as the fist of the real western isles.
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