Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
wood hanging out underneath the bottom of the main sail, so it's much harder to knock
yourself out than it is on an ordinary sailing boat.
We all had many happy seasons coasting down Loch Shiel under those tan sails, but
the Orkney is more practical and gets where it's going a lot quicker. Actually it feels like
a speedboat to Les and me after years of waiting for the Lugger's original 4hp motor to
break surface tension and actually move us anywhere, though we still haven't tried the
water-skiing experiment yet. The other thing we haven't got round to is Les and Iain's
Guide to Sensible Sailing, a video to demystify the confusing world of nautical termino-
logy.
* * *
Les and Iain's Guide to Sensible Sailing
.
(Sample dialogue)
Les: Now, Iain, I believe some people would call this a sheet, is that correct?
Iain: Well, that's right, Les, they would. However I think you'll find that the correct
technical name for what you're holding there is, in fact, a 'rope'. A sheet is something
you put on your bed.
Les: I see. And if I put this 'rope' over here, that would be on the port side of the boat,
near the bows, yes?
Iain: No, port is a drink. Made in Portugal, by the way, so it's quite easy to remember
where it comes from. No, that's what we call the 'left' side of the boat, at the 'front'.
… You get the idea. We took it too far, of course. Masts became sticks and sails big
flappy things. I mean, really.
It's yet another amazingly good day. One of the compensations of trailing the boat and so
having to stick below 50 is that there's more time to look around at the scenery; I drive
this route via Lochearnhead and Glencoe a lot but it never ceases to amaze. The air is
so clear the sunlight seems bright as mid-summer, but because it's early April the snow
still coats the mountain tops, sparkling like icing sugar. The ragged scatter of lochs across
Rannoch Moor are deep blue on one side of the road, light blue and glittering on the other,
already surrounded by fresh growing grass and rushes and a carpet of tiny, early flowers.
A single day like this isn't so unusual, but this is just the latest dry, warm day in a
very dry winter and a positively sunny and almost balmy early spring. It's been a year
of unseasonable weather all round, it feels. In late February Ann and I were in Cyprus
with her parents, staying in a villa near Pissouri looking out across to the British base at
Akrotiri in one direction and the Troodos mountains in the other. We weren't exactly ex-
pecting Death Valley heat in February, but apparently the snow we got was unusual, too;
