We have paid for our winter berth until the end of March. Accordingly, we have been keeping an eye out for a calm weather window to start the new season for several days now.

Yesterday the time had come. After 20 miles in glorious sunshine and flat calm, we are once again hanging on the hook in a bay. Scotland’s west coast welcomes us with dolphins, wild mountain scenery and perfect weather.

After the severe storms at the end of January, life in the harbour was not always comfortable, but thankfully no longer quite as rolly. A lot of rain is simply part of life in Scotland. 😏🌧️

As a foretaste of the season, our Scottish neighbours invite us for a walk along Camusdarach Beach.

We also get to admire the Glenfinnan Viaduct, made famous by the Harry Potter films, from up close. It is easy to tell: it is still very much the off-season.

As we are not allowed to stay in Scotland for more than 180 consecutive days, I spend four days in February on the Swabian Alb. Packed tightly with visits to family and friends, the schedule during this short time is full.

Luckily, after this visa run the countdown resets to 180 days. Anyone who wants to hear stories about absurd residency bureaucracy only has to ask any cruising sailor. Everyone grumbles about excessive government regulation.

We use the rare dry days to stock up on provisions (LOTS of provisions) and to bring our little boat into shape. There is sawing, screwing, sewing, drilling, painting, sanding, crimping and soldering.

We leave the welding to a professional. Jamie repairs two stanchions. What a pleasing birthday present for Mareike. At last, we can also complete the insulation in these areas.

We do not know when we will be staying in one place for an extended period again, so we take the opportunity to order various “small items” directly to the harbour. A new anchor (Spade 160; 35 kg) replaces the previous 30 kg Bruce.

The life raft “grows” and is upgraded from four to six persons.

To avoid running into a fishing net again, as happened last autumn, I install spotlights on the bow. AliExpress also supplies us with long-range torches. At least in calm conditions, we should now be able to spot most obstacles even at night.

The wind vane, usually highly valued by sailors, will probably be used very rarely (if at all) in the island world awaiting us, as we have a reliable electro-hydraulic autopilot. We remove it and stow it away in the bilge.

Easier said than done, unfortunately, as the system is badly seized by corrosion. Only with plenty of heat, determined hammering and a lot of tension from a turnbuckle (rigged between two harbour cleats) can the heavy contraption be dismantled into manageable pieces.

As mentioned in an earlier post, farewells are also part of life as a cruising sailor. Beloved neighbours stay behind or move on ahead of us. Very sad, but unavoidable.

We cannot emphasise enough the hospitality shown to us in Corpach. The Scots are an unexpectedly warm-hearted people. From dinner invitations and a shared New Year’s Eve party to quiz nights at the pub and a traditional folk concert, we were made to feel like we truly belonged.

On my birthday, a bottle of wine from the harbour master appears alongside the post. We are deeply grateful for experiences like these.

In the coming days, we plan to make more distance towards the north-west. The Outer Hebrides are the destination. Remote Caribbean-style beaches (apart from the temperatures), with brilliant white sand and crystal-clear water, are promised by the images of the island of Lewis and Harris. So far, the wind forecast suggests pleasant sailing conditions. We are therefore hoping for swift progress.