Day 43 – Arbroath to Stonehaven – 2nd July – 28.6 nm
The campsite man is pleasant and we have a nice chat. He
corrects me though when I reply that I am paddling around the UK – I am
paddling around Scotland, the rest doesn't matter he tells me – there’s no
smile in his eyes, he’s serious - unusual.
It’s not FFS early, but it’s early enough. We return to
Victoria Park, it’s peaceful and very pleasant as an early morning mist slowly
burns away.
I head up onto the cliff-tops once again and things look
much better, there’s still a tell-tale band of white foam along the base of the
cliffs, but it shouldn't be a problem – the sun is out after all.
I can’t be bothered to drive back to the beach at the south
end of town so we take our lives in our hands and carry the boat gingerly across
the slippery rock ledges for a sneaky launch through a narrow gulley. I paddled
by here yesterday, before I turned back, so I guess it still counts? Team
Manager frowns unhelpfully.
There is still a swell running but there is no wind. It takes a bit of
fortuitous timing to leave the gulley safely, but I'm soon out into deep water
and happy to be paddling once again, under sunny skies - 07:45 OTW.
The cliffs drop to the rear, leaving Dickmont’s Den and The
Deil’s Heid behind is probably not a bad thing I reflect. The swell makes
enough rebound to keep me awake and I am happy to accept that I made the correct
decision when I turned back yesterday. Conditions are much better today but it’s
still enough to keep me a distance offshore, yesterday could have ended in
tears I reckon.
Lunan Bay is a sandy oasis lying rebelliously in the rocky
coastline, it looks like a pleasant spot but it’s not on the destination list
today – hopefully.
I close on the shiny lighthouse at Scurdie Ness, by Montrose,
and once again I spot my mad female stalker waving furiously out to sea, that
lass is going to get locked up one of these days...
Montrose Bay resorts to bit of one-upmanship as it extends
its quiet sandy beach for twice the distance of Lunan Bay, before the low rocky
coastline begins again.
We are on split-shifts once again; this morning’s landing
options are probably going to be a selection from Johnshaven, Gourdon or
preferably Inverbervie. The tide turns on time, but a little quicker than I
expect and as the swell lifts I find myself in a bit of a scruffy tide race off
the rocky ledges at Johnshaven. The map shows a rather narrow gap for an
entrance to JH, this is confirmed by the Team Manager who stops for a look on
her way by. The swell isn't big but it’s enough to mean that you don’t want to
get too close to those ledges. Landing through the gap doesn't sound like the cleverest
option.
I'm pushing against a knot of tide now and the swell is
breaking along the ledges in a sort of ‘you
ain't landing here’ reminder. Team Manager calls to say that the beach at
Inverbervie is dumping but has a gap - if I'm quick. Oh yeah, I’ll just pop it
into Warp Drive then.
Before I can get there I receive another call, the beach has
just closed out – ‘You Snooze - You Lose’.
Well, it sounds like a harbour landing in Gourdon then.
There is an impressive break on a reef just outside the harbour, I do a Major
Tom, skirt the reef (by miles) and then follow a small, blue crab boat in. The
reef was one of those micky-taking, wind-up ones – you get all worked–up and all
dressed-up, to then have a perfectly flat paddle in of course.
The sun is out and we sit on the edge of the harbour,
watching Gourdon life go by in a flurry of fish-processing and loud cars. At
the same time there is something of a paradoxically sleepy air about the place.
After a morning on the water the ‘Award-winning’ Fish and Chip shop (sorry,
restaurant) sounds the perfect lunchtime option. I can’t see that they would have won any
awards where I come from...
Team Manager heads off on her bike for a ride in the
sunshine while I take a wander around Gourdon and do the scruffy traveller
impression as I clutter up the place with drying kit.
Eventually our harbour-side idyll has to be broken by a return
to the water – Stonehaven next. On the way out of the harbour I overhear a
couple of tomb-stoning lads discussing the fun that would be had if they grab
and capsize me as I pass. They run down the wall and jump, but forewarned is
forearmed, a hard-right rudder and a couple of quick strokes and I’m soon beyond
swimming reach – up yours ugly. I don’t feel as guilty now about washing out my
pee bottle in the harbour.
The tide runs well now and I'm ticking along nicely at six
knots. As the sun disappears, it grows a little chilly and with the grey skies things
suddenly seem less fun.
As I watch the rocky reefs slowly morph into low cliffs, the
swell now starts to rebound. The conditions aren’t big but they become quite
confused. I can’t see a pattern to the chop at all, the swell seems to constantly vary in size and frequency, and it comes from all sorts of directions.
The boat wallows and slides around tediously. Eventually things are big enough to put a kaibosh
on admin breaks and so I head in to Stonehaven to eat and to consider my short
term future. I watch a sea kayak / lifeboat exercise (I think) as I eat.
I was hoping for a Newtonhill finish today, but after a few
minutes of luxury in the still water of the outer harbour and a wuss-call with Team
Manager I decide to call it a day.
Just another day.
