Glasgow and Home at Last

This post is very belated. My last few days on the boat were busy, and the busy-ness has continued since I returned to sunny and warm California. Once again, I will relate the events and sights of our travels long after they occurred. 

Monday, October 6

Peter and I waited for the current to be going upstream on the Clyde before departing from Holy Loch Marina. In the morning, I continued to clean and made two kinds of soup as well as couscous salad for Peter and crew to have available after my departure. 

Peter had planned out our timing up the Clyde and contacted the bridge tenders the day before to schedule openings. Going up the Clyde with the engine (Sailing is not permitted due to the narrowness of the channel and, besides, there was insufficient wind.), we passed by old castles and walls. The first was Dumbarton Castle. It sits on a volcanic plug of basalt known as Dumbarton Rock, which is 240 feet (73 meters) high. Dumbarton Castle has a recorded history of over 1,500 years, though the current stone structure was largely built starting in the 1220s under Alexander II of Scotland. The site itself has been fortified since at least the Dark Ages, with its earliest known name being Alt Clut or Alcluith or "Rock of the Clyde." Tourists along the castle wall waved to us; large sailing vessels are not often seen going up the Clyde these days, although in its heyday as a shipbuilding city, Glasgow had hundreds of vessels under construction or in port. 

Dumbarton Castle

Next on river right was the 14th century Dunglass Castle, now in ruins. A large section of the boundary wall remains, about 7-8 meters (23-26 feet) high. Dominating the scene is the obelisk honoring Henry Bell, an early steamship pioneer. He is most well known for introducing the first successful passenger steamboat service in Europe in 1812, traveling 40 miles from Glasgow downstream and back. 

Ruins of Dunglass Castle and Henry Bell Obelisk

The new Renfrew swing bridge opened for us at 1:15 p.m. and then the Govan-Partick foot bridge at 2:00 p.m. They are both new bridges; the Renfrew bridge opened in May of this year, and the Govan-Partick bridge was ready for pedestrians and cyclists in September of 2024. I had booked us for the Yorkhill Quay Pontoon with the Glasgow City Council for three free nights. (We were actually scheduled for three days earlier but had to change the dates because the storm Amy made being underway inadvisable and the bridges could not be opened in the high winds.) After passing the Riverside Museum, with no crew on board, I took the helm and steered Mantra to the pontoon and Peter jumped off the boat to secure lines. 

Mantra approaching the Renfrew Bridge, which opened just for us

The Govan-Partick Bridge opening with the Gleenlee tall ship at the Riverside Museum upstream

Our son Matthew arrived by train from London around 4 p.m. We had afternoon tea and played a game of pinochle and then headed out for dinner. We roamed around the Partick neighborhood until we came upon an Indian restaurant that looked appealing. The interior design was bright and attractive, and the food was spicy and delicious. 

Sherri, Matthew and Peter at Rickshaw

Tuesday, October 7

Unfortunately, I had booked my flights home to Sacramento before the storm Amy was predicted, so my time in Glasgow was reduced from three full days to one and a half. On my last day there, we visited two museums and had a great lunch at Islay Inn after I had finished packing.

Our first stop was the Riverside Museum, which was just by our boat, at the confluence of the River Kelvin with the Clyde. This architecturally impressive museum replaced the Glasgow Museum of Transport. The museum houses steam locomotives; the world's oldest surviving pedal cycle; 31 Scottish-built cars and trucks as well as 21 motorcycles, both collections displayed on walls; horse-drawn vehicles; fire engines and police cars; caravans (camper vans); bicycles; toy cars; and prams. The upper level has a ship conveyer, where models of ships built in Glasgow glide by on two levels, each with descriptions of their history. It was remarkable how few decades most of them survived. The largest item in the collection is South African Loco 3007, built in Glasgow in 1945 and exported to South Africa, where it ran until 1987. Around it are signage and videos about the men who built it as well as the affect of Apartheid on the railways.

Wall of cars made in Scotland

The tall ship Glenlee outside the Riverside Museum

My favorite section of the museum was Main Street, an area which represents Glasgow from the 1890 to 1930. The cobblestone street lined with street lamps and sidewalks have open shops where history is revealed in artifacts and interiors. Businesses include the shops of a cobbler, a cabinet maker, a pawn broker, a saddler, a photographer as well as a bar and a cafe. On the street there are vintage cars and a horse-drawn hearse. The attention to detail in this re-creation was amazing.

Main Street

Horse-drawn hearse

We left this museum around 12:30 to arrive at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum for the free 1 p.m. organ recital. We stood across the large interior courtyard from the organ on the second floor, leaning against a substantial balustrade to enjoy the music. 

Organist playing at the Kelvingrove Museum

Centre Hall of the Kelvingrove Museum

Afterwards, we left the museum with the intention of returning after lunch. Matthew had two places in mind based on his experience one summer at the University of Glasgow as an undergraduate, one a vegetarian restaurant and one a pub. We chose the latter. The owner/waiter was gregarious and funny, and the atmosphere was relaxed. The food was marvelous. We were sad to learn that we had missed the trad music the previous evening.

Matthew, Sherri and Peter at the Islay Inn

After lunch, Peter headed to the center of town to get EE service for his phone since we had exceeded the three month data allowance outside the U.S. with GoogleFi. Matthew and I went back to the museum but went our separate ways once there. I wandered through the exhibits of Scotland's Wildlife and Glasgow Stories on the first floor. I found the second to be challenging to take in as there seemed to be an assumption of local knowledge that I do not have and the sections were not in chronological order. On the second floor (or the first floor by the European system of naming), I was intrigued by the exhibit entitled "Glasgow, City of Empire" which illuminated the ways that merchants and shipbuilders amassed their wealth and the city became a major urban center in Europe. The museum building itself and the collections exist because of the imperialism of Great Britain and the oppression of people of color throughout the world. 

I continued on to the art section of the museum, stopping again to admire Dali's Christ of St. John of the Cross. There is an impressive collection of Dutch art, which I love, but I visually enjoyed and was intellectually fascinated by the Scottish Colourists exhibit. Four Scottish artists, Francis Cadell, John Duncan Fergusson, Leslie Hunter and Samuel Peploe, were prolific painters who created colorful works from the beginning of the 20th century up until WWII. They were influenced by the artistic movements based in France such as Cubism, Post-Impressionism, Fauvism and Futurism. Their admiration for such artists as Manet, Monet, Matisse and Cézanne can be seen in the paintings, which generally display thick brushstrokes and vibrant, bold colors. They painted Scottish landscapes and interiors; fashionable models and still life. The artwork in itself was amazing and needed no explanation, but I appreciated learning about this chapter in art history.

An earlier group of artists called the Glasgow Boys was found in another gallery. Like the Impressionists in France, these young artists were disillusioned with traditional academy painting and Victorian conventions. Considered to have introduced modernism to Scottish painting in the 1800s and 1890s, they chose to paint contemporary rural subjects such as farm laborers and peasants, often working outdoors and directly on the canvas rather than from sketches. They were also influenced by Japanese art, using similar flattened forms and decorative patterns of Japanese prints. They members of the Glasgow Boys included, James Guthrie, Sir John Lavery, George Henry, Edward Atkinson Hornel, Edward Arthur Walton and William York MacGregor. Once again, a piece of art history was revealed to me in the collection of stunning artwork.

I was hustled out of the museum at 5 p.m., closing time, dawdling to enjoy the Floating Heads installation before exiting. 

Floating Heads installation

Since the weather was pleasant by Scottish standards, I walked around in Kelvingrove Park. The pathways meandered along the River Kelvin and among wooden areas and open lawns, with statues here and there. There were views of the 278 foot (85 meter) neo-gothic tower of the University of Glasgow high above trees with their early fall foliage. The statue of Lord Kelvin (William Thomson) caused me to consider his background. Kelvin was a British mathematician, mathematical physicist and engineer who was the professor of natural philosophy at the University of Glasgow for 53 years. Known for a number of significant contributions to physics, he is most familiar to everyone for determining the correct value  of absolute zero. The Kelvin scale for measuring temperature is named in his honor. It is often assumed that Kelvingrove museum and park derive their name from him, but, in fact, his title refers to the River Kelvin, which runs by the university's campus. Kelvingrove is a neighborhood in Glasgow, and the name derives from the mansion of Patrick Colquhoun, Lord Provost of Glasgow. He purchased the land in 1782 and built his home their, naming it after the river. The house opened as the city's first municipal musuem in 1870. The house was demolished in 1899 to make way for the 1901 International Exhibition and the construction of the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum.

Neo-Gothic tower at the University of Glasgow

Pond in Kelvingrove Park

Statue of Lord Kelvin

Stewart Memorial Fountain

Matthew and Peter had returned to the boat earlier. The electricity on the dock was not functioning when we arrived, but the problem had been fixed. We had obtained a new gate code, but it did not work. They were forced to climb over the fence to get to Mantra. Earlier, Peter had taken salmon from our Greenland stash from the freezer. He smoked it for Matthew and him and served it with the couscous salad. We finished the evening with a game of pinochle and went to bed.

Wednesday, October 8

After my brief glimpse of Glasgow, I got a taxi at 8 a.m., arriving at the airport in plenty of time for my 10:30 flight to Heathrow. (Peter, as always, was concerned that I hadn't allowed enough time, but everything went smoothly at the airport.) It was a long trip home, 24 hours of travel time in all. It has taken me a few days to recover, but I have been enjoying the warmth and sunshine here. In addition to cleaning and gardening and provisioning, I have to do something with a surprising bumper crop of apples.

Surprisingly large crop of red apples from a tree that has always produced little green ones

Some of the apples are enormous

Home, sweet (and dry) home!

Later in the day, Matthew and Peter cruised down the Clyde and Mantra was docked again at Holy Loch. The next morning, they sailed to Largs. Matthew left from there and Peter's brother Rob arrived. He and Peter left a couple days ago from Largs and have sailed and motored south through the Irish Sea. They stopped last night for a few hours of rest, anchoring north of Wexford, Ireland, off the Curracloe Beach, which Peter and I had explored in 2024 on our vacation in Ireland. I just talked with Peter, and they have just sailed close-hauled for 12 hours and are more than halfway from Wexford to Land's End, a tricky bit of water, with plans to stop in Falmouth, or perhaps Plymouth if they can make it that far before Rob needs to go home. 

And now the blog ends for the season (unless Peter decides to post).

Holy Loch Marina, Scotland

On Wednesday, October 1, less than an hour after sunset--something we did not actually experience in the bleak conditions of the Kyles of Bute--we dropped anchor in a sheltered bay on the north side of the Isle of Bute. Once again on this adventure, there was very little sailing. Even Peter was frustrated. Expecting to be able to raise the sails and cut the engine as soon as we rounded the tip of an island, we found that the wind speed and direction altered so that it was once again on the nose. Peter noted in the log: "Lochs are not for sailing!!" However, there are more sailboats than power boats on mooring balls and in marinas, so it must work some of the time.

We had been told that the trip around the north side of the Isle of Bute is very scenic. Certainly, the scenes around us were atmospheric. By this, I mean that we could see the atmosphere. 

Apparently typical weather for this time of year in the Kyles of Bute

In general, if gray and dark green are your favorite colors, then Western Scotland is the place for you. If you find unpredictable weather appealing, this is where you want to be. It will also please you if you prefer an annual mean temperature just below 10°C (50°F). Any time of year will work, but fall and winter may be best if you like chilliness and dampness. In October, the average HOURS of sunshine is 125 for the WHOLE MONTH! The total for the year ranges from approximately 900 to 1,300 hours (compared to 3,600 hours in Sacramento, with 280 days/year of sunshine that lasts all day). Also, October is the second rainiest month of the year here, averaging about 140 mm (or 5.5 inches). Let's not forget about another climatic factor, wind. The mean wind speed is never below 10 knots, or Force 4 on the Beaufort scale, and average gusts range from 50 to 85 knots. Frequent deep depressions (No, I am not referring to my mental state.) create strong sustained winds and higher gusts. 

We are now able to keep the chilliness out of the boat and usually have it heated to 20°C (68°F) or higher, and the air conditioner component of our heating and cooling system is able to REDUCE the amount of moisture in the air, but it is constantly damp. Every morning, we have to use towels to absorb the condensation on the windows and the hatches as well as drops of water clinging to the ceilings and upper walls. Mantra is a wonderful, strong and great sailing vessel, but she is in no way designed for the climate we have been in for the past three months. Unfortunately, she is not insulated, and without insulation, dehumidification cannot succeed, and in really cold water, such as we encountered in Newfoundland and Greenland, attempts at heating are akin to trying to warm up the inside of a refrigerator without turning the refrigerator off.

This is what I found when I pulled out the mattress from the upper bunk in the aft cabin--yuck!

We docked on Thursday, October 2, at Holy Loch Marina in Sandbank, just north of Dunoon and on the southern shore of this sea loch of the Firth of Clyde. In 1876, Alexander Robertson starting repairing and then building boats in Sandbank and became one of the area's foremost wooden boat builders. By the early 1900's, Alexander Robertson & Sons was specializing in racing yachts. The yard built boats for the Royal Navy before and during WWI. Switching back to racing yachts afterwards, they were busy even during the Great Depression as many wealthy businessmen developed a passion for yacht racing on the Clyde. During WWII, the yard devoted its efforts to Admiralty work. The focus returned to racing boats after this war, but the Robertson were forced by difficult business conditions to sell the yard in 1965, having built over 500 boats, many of which are still sailing. Production ceased in 1980.

The locals mainly talk about the years the U.S. Navy had a submarine base here, from 1961 to 1992. Until the end of the Cold War, the base was a vital part of the local economy, and the locals and military personnel and their children had a shared sense of community.

Although we normally prefer to be at anchor in strong winds, we needed to have shore access for various reasons, so we chose Holy Loch Marina even though we were anticipating the arrival of the first named storm of the season, Amy, with sustained winds of 30 knots and gusts predicted as high as 60. The Met Office (UK meteorologic agency) issued an amber warning (increased likelihood of various impacts from severe weather) starting on Friday and lasting through Saturday. In fact, the gusts were much more forceful, with 96 knots recorded in Western Scotland. We were tied up securely to the inner pontoon of the breakwater at Holy Loch and had all our fenders out. Fortunately, Mantra sustained no damage. (Many boats in the area were grounded or sunk.) One fender is squashed, probably beyond repair, but the big, round, red fender we picked up in Höfn in eastern Iceland has been invaluable. 

On Thursday night, having returned from a night out, we found at least 1,000 seagulls sheltering on the breakwater. They flew off in waves as we walked down the long pontoon, a thrilling sight. Back on the boat, Peter and I lay in bed awake for quite a while listening to the howling in the rigging of all the boats in the marina and feeling the boat heel over as the wind blasted against the starboard side. In the big gusts, I instinctively flinched as I held on to Peter. By Friday night, the storm had not abated. Last night, in the wee hours, Peter was awaken by the storm and discovered that the sustained wind was 50 knots for a brief time. Meanwhile, I slept soundly while he considered whether we should put on our cold water survival suits in case we broke loose or were hit by another boat or, in a worse case scenario, the breakwater began coming apart. Luckily, it did not get that bad. 

During the worst of the storm, even walking was difficult, and at one point we were stopped dead in our tracks on the dock by a 10-second gust. In the strong wind, we walked close together and holding hands, with our heads lowered to protect our faces. Even being so close, we could barely hear each other if we spoke. Today, it is calmer. Now the wind is 10-15 knots, with gusts only up to 30, and intermittent rain, which is the norm here. Not a speck of blue sky or sunshine, though!

The wind lifting water from the surface of the loch on Friday evening

Fenders with severely shredded covers

The last few days (after I cleaned the floors inside so that the varnished surface once again shines) I have spent many hours in the marina's laundry room, which has one washing machine and one dryer. I finally had to download the user manual for the dryer as it was very inconsistent, frequently stopping for no apparent reason. Having finally figured out the settings (I am not fluent in icons.). I am now down to five loads of drying and two loads of washing! I should be done this evening.  I have laundered all the towels, sheets and pillow cases, mattress covers, blankets, quilts, duvets and duvet covers plus one load of Peter's clothes, about a dozen loads in total. I will be packing in a couple days to return home, and I am not bothering with cleaning my clothes. When I get back, I will be washing and drying every single piece of clothing I brought to the boat, even if I have never worn it. (Very little of the summer clothing was ever worn; in retrospect, I packed too much for summer and barely enough for winter.) Nothing has escaped the dampness of Mantra!

Peter has been busy on the boat, planning our trip up the Clyde to Glasgow tomorrow, which involves contacting authorities in advance for bridge openings; catching up on email; and taking care of technical things. Our time here at Holy Loch  has not all been work and severe weather. Serendipitously, Peter's brother Rob and sister-in-law Susan from southern England are in this area at the same time as us, staying with their and our good friends Catherine and John at their estate a half-hour drive away in Glen Massan. It is the annual hunting weekend at the estate, and the weather did not deter the hunters from going out. The partridge shooting was successful for the humans on Friday morning, but no red deer were harmed on Saturday morning. 

Peter was invited but chose not to hunt partridge and stalk deer, but we were cordially invited to join them in the evenings, which we did three days in a row. The first day, John drove down from the glen to pick us up, and Susan picked us up yesterday, but the other times the trip there and back was by taxi, with David, a cheerful and interesting man, providing the rides in his high clearance vehicle, which was necessary due to mud slides, high water and downed tree limbs. We arrived each of the three days in time for champaign and hors d'ouevres and lively conversation, followed by superb dinners by Catherine for ten (and twelve on the second evening). In addition to a few of their friends, Catherine and John's son Richard and daughter Phoebe joined in the weekend activities.

These activities included not only hunting, walking, socializing, and eating scrumptious food but plunges into the pond in front to the large house, a beautifully renovated shepherd's cottage with an equal sized addition. Not everyone participated in the plunges. In fact, other than Phoebe, it was just the men. They were not deterred by the cold, rain or wind. Peter joined them on Saturday evening, jumping in twice. After the plunges, they all ran to the sauna in the house to warm up before dressing for dinner. 

Garth, Charles, Peter, Phoebe, Rob, Richard and John by the pond

Peter swam away from the shore

On Saturday, we arrived to join them in the mid-afternoon so that they could look at some of my photos of Greenland. Peter and I also had time to take a walk with Catherine, Susan, Phoebe and the dog Quince around a bit of the property. There was a break in the rain, and the atmospheric view varied as the atmosphere constantly drifted and rose and fell.

Catherine and Peter

Woods and hillside near the house

Catherine and John's Scottish home

View from the front of the house

It was great to spend time with Rob and Susan and Catherine and John, whom we had not anticipated seeing on this trip, and a great pleasure to get to know the friends who had joined them for the weekend. Now, I am spending today finishing the laundry, cleaning Mantra, using up fresh food that needs to be cooked, and getting organized both for Matthew's arrival tomorrow and my much anticipated departure from the boat and return to our dry home in California. Peter will be staying on board and moving the boat south as winter sets in on the western coast of the British Isles.

Through the Crinan Canal, Scotland

It's Enis' 45th birthday today! Peter and I were able to give him a card, and I made bread pudding for breakfast, the closest I could get to any kind of cake with the supplies on board. We could not celebrate tonight because Enis has left us! At Lock 3 of the canal, he disembarked to catch a bus to Glasgow, where he will spend the night before flying to Zagreb, Croatia, on Thursday to spend time with his mother, brother and other relatives before returning to his home in Pompano Beach, Florida. Having him on board for three months was delightful, and we will miss his company and his crewmanship.

Yesterday we were busy going in and out of locks along the Crinan Canal from late morning to late afternoon, transiting through 10 of the 15 locks and past 5 swing bridges. It was all hands on deck most of the time. I had a bowl of cereal and the guys had granola bars for breakfast. In retrospect, we should have eaten a more substantial meal, because there was no time to make or consume lunch during the day. We finally had quesadillas at 5 p.m.!

It was cloudy, but there was no rain yesterday, although the humidity was high, and the temperature was in the 50s (Fahrenheit). Any wind was blocked by the levees around the canal and the hand-hewn stone walls of locks. It was not a bad day to be outside!

The cafe by the Crinan basis (And who is using the red phone booths we see everywhere?)

Enis handling the bow line and dressed for warmer weather

Scottish Canals provides staff at all the locks and bridges, so there is no need to get off the boat. However, there was some waiting time between locks as the staff was usually working more than one of them, walking, bicycling or driving to meet us at the next lock. On board, Peter steered the boat and threw the stern line to the lock keepers, Enis manned the bowline and I had the giant orange-red fender which we found in Iceland to use in addition to the old cloth covered ones which were tied on to stanchions. Fortunately, the navy blue covers for the white fenders were already tattered, because they were abused on the rough walls of the lock.

Going around a curve in the canal

Peter at the helm

Typical home beside the canal

Tannin stained water flooding a lock

An uphill lock opening

Two lock keepers waiting for the water to rise

At one lock, the lock keeper asked for a crew member to come to shore to help with operations. Eagerly, Enis volunteered. Peter and I had operated locks previously while visiting our friends Paula and Andrew on their canal boat in England a few years ago, but it was a novel and unique experience for Enis, who discovered just how much strength it took to open and close the locks manually. The lock keepers put their backs into it, literally leaning their backs against the balance beam and walking backwards. Of course, Enis was delighted to try something new. 

Enis trying to move a balance beam while Peter adjusts the big fender

Enis starting to put his back into the work

Enis being helped by the lock keeper

Sherri and Peter on Mantra in a lock

Enis cranking the gate to allow water to flow

After passing the Oakfield Bridge, we tied up at a pontoon for the night. As darkness descended, Peter and Enis went off for a walk into the village of Lochgilphead. I had been up until 2:30 the previous evening in order to attend the monthly Rodgers' family book club meeting on Zoom, so I was tired and just wanted to rest. Over an hour later, having sampled some Jura whiskey, they returned with fish and chips for them and macaroni and cheese and fried mushrooms for me. Since it was Enis' last evening with us, we played both three-handed pinochle and Take 5 before bedtime. Enis told us that he had never played card games as an adult, and he has grown to like doing so.

Enis, Sherri and Peter on land while waiting for the lock keepers to arrive this morning

Peter moving a lock's balance beam

Peter and I successfully made it through the last couple locks, although the lock keepers did not seem to have as much expertise as the previous ones. After passing through the sea gate, we tied up at the pontoon outside and had lunch. 

The last lock before the sea gate at Ardrishaig

Ready to exit Crinan Canal into Lower Loch Fyne

Peter has finalized arrangements for meeting up with his brother Rob and sister-in-law Susan, who will pick us up tomorrow at Holy Loch Marina in Dunoon. They are on their way to spend the weekend with friends of all of us, Catherine and John Hartz, at their hunting estate, and we will visit just on Thursday. 

On Friday, we want to be on our boat at the marina as the UK national meteorological service's first named storm of the season, Amy, is predicted to hit the northern part of the United Kingdom starting at noon that day, with 25-30 knot winds with gusts up to 55. We will need to monitor our dock lines and make sure nothing is likely to be blown away. Right now we are rounding Ardlamont Point and heading into the Kyles of Bute. We will anchor somewhere along the northern side of Bute for the night.