A trip with an old lady...

The paddle steamer Waverley is the last sea-going paddle steamer in the world. She was built in 1947 to replace the ship of the same name lost at Dunkirk, so she's almost as old as I am. Scottish readers, especially West coast ones, will know she's had a difficult two years, what with the necessary fitting of a new boiler, Covid restrictions limiting numbers and - last year's particular horror - damage resulting from a collision with Brodick pier.

But she's back. Crew shortages (think Brexit) prevented her starting her season last weekend, but Tuesday saw her first trip of the summer and today we went for a sail on her. Originally we were to have met Himself's best man and wife on board, but last minute illness put paid to that plan so it was just us. However, we've never yet had a sail on Waverley when we didn't meet someone we know, and today it was the familiar face of someone from my very first day in Hillhead Primary school, so we had some chat as well as simply enjoying being aboard again.

Our sail took us from Dunoon through the Kyles of Bute to Tighnabruaich, where we had 90 minutes or so ashore before sailing back again. The boat seemed quite busy - it had come from Glasgow via Greenock - but more people got off to visit Dunoon than boarded with us, so all was well and we could get a seat when we felt the need. The upper reaches of the Firth were quite grey and cloudy, with the threat of rain, but Tighnabruaich was bright (rather than sunny) and warm and extremely tranquil - perfect for a picnic on the shore, watching a paddle-boarder inspecting Waverley and looking at the various sailing boats for which the Kyles are such a great haven.

There's something magical about a traditional old ship like this, with the planks of the deck rather than some synthetic material, the gleaming brass protectors on the rail where the ropes might have to go over the wood, the incomparable smell and heat and unignorable strength of the engines with their strange sighing noises and their gleaming brass and copper ... can you tell I'm an addict? And I know I've probably raved like this before, in September, but I don't care.

Blipping the view of the Tighnabruaich shore where we had our picnic and walked as far as the boatyard at the end of the road - just to the left of the hill with the phone mast on it. The water really was that colour, and a glassy calm until our paddles shoogled it up. And an extra of Waverley at Tighnabruaich pier, being inspected by a paddle-boarder to stern. 

And now I'm looking forward already to the next time ...