Glamour

Look - an action shot! There's the Cap'n in his matching Lidl boots and gluvvies set, overseeing all, and DrD helming us through the errr notorious Burnt Isles.
Earlier I'd been on the tiller, doing a wide tack down Loch Fyne and some workboat carrying earth moving equipment was heading towards me. I adjusted and we made to pass port to port. About 100 yards apart, he suddenly started turning right towards me. Bugger me, we swung hard to port and he changed back to continue on a collision course! I swung to starboard and we missed each other - and there he was in his wheelhouse not even acknowledging us as he motored past. What was that about? We were all baffled. Yes, sirrreee.
So round Ardlamont in a big chop and blimey did the gusts start gusting or what. We reefed down, but even so we were getting heeled so far that water was sluicing into the cockpit at times. So it was bare poles and the engine on to get into Rothesay.
And there we huddled down below listening to the wind and rain, like Scott and his men.*

*apart from a send out to the Co-op for essential supplies.