The last few weeks of summer 2023
A bit lengthy, but the last few weeks in the UK were busy!
Loch Goil
From the tranquility of Loch Goil we sailed to the Royal Gourock Yacht Club, picking up a guest mooring for a couple of nights. The home club of Fiona, we were informed that she had called them and given explicit directions for our care, and the best table for dinner in the club dining room. (Thanks Fiona! Hope to see you this summer!)
Dinner was memorable not just for the view across the River Clyde to the hills of Argyll, but for our dining companion Duncan, sailor, artist, teacher, swimmer, and historian.
Gourock Yacht Club…best table in the house.
Through him I learned that the SS Metagama, the ship that carried my great grandmother to Canada in June of 1924, would have sailed right past those very windows, departing from nearby Greenock.
SS Metagama sailing past Greenock in the Firth of Clyde.
Not so fun fact, dredged up from my dad's notes: during this same passage, the Metagama was struck by another vessel in the thick fog just off the coast of Newfoundland. The collision created a 15 foot gash in the port side with the ship listing severely. They put 3 crew in a life raft over the side to inspect the damage, but as they were being winched back aboard, a line parted and the boat and crew were lost to the fog... only to be recovered, alive, by the fishing schooner, Bluenose, a few days later...
Life jackets were donned, and the passengers were corralled onto the starboard side of the deck to help counter the ever increasing list, the crew providing cigarettes and chocolates, and in what was a questionable decision given the demise of the Titanic in those very waters 12 years earlier, they brought the liner's orchestra on deck to "strike up a medley of airs"...
With the great good fortune of a windless night, the vessel limped to safety in St John's Harbour. An excellent account of this event can be found here:
https://www.saltscapes.com/roots-folks/1368-ss-metagama-sos.html
We also learned from Duncan that there is a plug in the bottom of the Crinan Canal...
The mooring at Gourock was a bit rolly in the day with the ferries and vessel traffic, but Reef, the boatman studying cyber security, was adept at coming alongside. We were entertained by the fleet of Etchells racing past our mooring, dinner was delicious, and the bus stop was mere steps from the front door of the club. This is a really special place, and we were touched when Duncan gifted us a limited edition print of a painting he had done of the clubhouse, which has yet to find a home on a wall, but it will!
“Royal Gourock Yacht Club” Duncan Munroe, Watercolour on 140lb Blockingford Paper.
From Gourock we moved to Rhu Marina for a couple of nights, taking the bikes into Helensburgh to see the Barbie movie and, because my dad would have loved it, we visited the X-51 Stickleback submarine immersive experience at the Submarine Centre Helensburgh. Barbie was showing in an old church converted to a small theatre and was full of moms with their daughters, all dressed in pink. The energy in that small space was amazing. In striking contrast to the uber technicolor experience that was Barbie, the submarine exhibit was all deep sea greys and blues, and, in an act that would have been mortally disappointing to my father, I fell asleep in my chair, lulled by the low rhythmic thrum of the sub.
From Rhu we moved the boat around the corner to the Royal Northern and Clyde Yacht Club, picking up a mooring where we would leave Meteor for the week, having rented a VW Campervan for a trip to the Isle of Skye with Gracie who flew into Glasgow for a 2 week UK sojourn.
Driving through some of the most stunning terrain, it was rainy and moody and perfect, especially in a dry, cozy campervan.
On our return we moved Meteor to Largs Yacht Haven, and got her ready to haul at Fairlie Quay. We took a couple of breaks for a trip to Glasgow braving the outside upper deck of a tour bus,
and Gracie and I took the bikes on the ferry to ride around Great Cumbrae island dodging the ubiquitous rain showers.
Once hauled, we took the train into London to visit my niece, her husband and Olive the dog.
We spent a bit of time touring London which was a blast and a blur...hitting as many iconic sites as possible, with the upper deck of the tour bus a bit dryer than Glasgow.
Gracie's only ask for the trip was to get to the Burghley Horse Trials .
Imagine idyllic english countryside, a castle in the background, helicopters shuttling in royalty, Range Rovers all over the place, well groomed dogs with well groomed owners, EVERYONE wearing leather field boots wandering over the course, ice buckets with bottles of champagne tucked under their arms, and of course internationally acclaimed riders and horses galloping and leaping about, the sound of hooves pounding down grassy fairways, the gasps of the crowds as they plummeted down steep embankments (the horses and riders, not the crowds). It was an amazing event, but much to the mortal disappointment of Gracie, I might have fallen into a light slumber on a grassy knoll...
One of the riders was Canadian Jessica Phoenix top Canadian eventer and Olympian, and we watched as she rode to an awesome 11th place on Wabbit. A few months later Gracie sent her an email asking if there were any positions with her team in Ontario. So. Starting 1st of May, Gracie began a year as a working student at Phoenix Equestrian... you never know unless you ask the question...
First day at “work”…
We spent another week and a bit getting Meteor ready for the winter enjoying the briefest of heatwaves.
A dip in the Clyde during the briefest of heat waves.
And then we flew home, comforted that Meteor was safely tucked into the huge shed at Fairlie, as biblical winds began pouring across Scotland.
