We’re sailing on Loch Ness toward Fort Augustus. The sunshine is beautiful. I just cut my hair on the foredeck, and I still have a little time to write a blog post before we get ready to dock. Yesterday we set out early from Inverness.
We had secured a slot at 9:30 a.m. for the swing bridge and the four locks beyond it (Muirtown Locks). We’d already made it through two locks, but we were still pretty nervous. The four chambers went up like a staircase. As we entered, the lock walls seemed impressively high. The helpful lockmaster seemed very far away up there (well, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration). But this time, tying up the lines worked right away, and we were secured in no time. Zissi then climbed up, and I followed later. As the last boat, we were in a very good spot. The lead boats were being pushed around quite a bit by the current, and some of the crews were a little stressed, but there were always helping hands around. The lockmaster told us, “I won’t give you any tips because you’re doing it perfectly.” This felt great, of course, and we walked from lock to lock very proud of ourselves, with Amy on the ropes.
After that, we sailed along the canal through the Highlands for a few miles until we reached the next bridge and the next lock. Beyond that was another short stretch of water, and then we were in Loch Ness. Here it was even possible to sail (slowly), and in the afternoon we stopped at Urquhart Bay—which is quite exposed to northeasterly winds—where we found a single mooring buoy and tied up to it.
We set up the dinghy and got everything ready to go ashore. But that didn’t happen right away, because by then the wind had picked up so much that a very steep, nasty wave had formed, and I’d already gotten very wet during my test run. I wouldn’t say that the water in Loch Ness is particularly warm and pleasant.
So we stayed on board and had chips with guacamole for lunch.
In the evening, the wind finally died down, and although we didn’t go ashore, we did make a tour to Urquhart Castle, which looks like it came straight out of a Monty Python movie. Then we had dinner with beer chilled in the bilge (really cold), and slept like logs.
In Fort Augustus, the swing bridge was broken and was still being repaired when we arrived. Boats had been stuck here for two days and hadn’t been able to move on. Fortunately, we still managed to find a place to stay for the night and went for a walk in a freezing cold.
We had already resigned ourselves to having to wait at least until the afternoon the next day, if the bridge was even going to be repaired. But around 10:00 a.m., we were able to go through the second lock, so we hadn’t really lost any time at all.
We had expected to find a pontoon to spend the night just behind the Laggan Locks, but for some reason, there wasn’t one. Instead, there was a charter base for motorboats that don’t require a license. There was still space available, so we moored there. It was a very nice spot at a hammerhead with a wonderful view.
The next morning, I went to the office to ask how much we’d have to pay. Nothing… how nice. This time we had a slightly longer stretch with fewer locks ahead of us and wanted to spend the night in front of the famous Neptune’s Staircase (8 locks in a row going downhill toward the sea lock). Everything worked out great, except that here, too, we were told: due to the large backlog caused by the repairs at Fort Augustus, it wasn’t yet clear whether we’d be able to pass through the locks the next day at all. We were advised to come back early the next morning and check with them again.
So that’s what we did, and, would you believe it… “Amy is a small boat and will fit alongside another boat in the first lock passage. We were assigned to a Swedish crew who, initially, were only moderately thrilled about their good fortune of having to tow a boat alongside them through eight locks, while we sat comfortably in the middle and didn’t have to do a thing. However, starting with the second lock we got along very well, we took photos of them and they of us and we talked about our voyages and plans. What a stroke of luck. Things continued like that until, all of a sudden, around 2:00 p.m., we passed through the sealock and had traversed the Caledonian Canal.
We found a spot in the harbor at Corpach, where I finally got around to sanding down the somewhat battered and slightly rotten cockpitlockerlids—which had been damaged by all the rain—and coating them with epoxy, and then (successfully!!) went fishing. For dinner, we had a spotted sea trout with pan-fried potatoes. This type trout is relatively small, and only one had taken the bait, but it was really delicious.
