Clive, Chris and I set off in August a few years ago aboard Tintin, a comfy French aluminium 43ft cruising yacht. A yacht you could take anywhere, with her lifting keel and rudder.

We departed from Clive’s mooring at Arisaig, heading north with a light southwesterly breeze and a fair tide, towards Skye. We enjoyed a lovely dry-ish sail. I’m only saying that because we ended up in the Sound of Sleat. This is pronounced sleet in Scots, because it can be very wet there.

Chris (left) and Clive enjoy the craic on deck. Photo: John Simpson

We ended up anchored in Isleornsay (this is the name of the village because it’s close to an island called Ornsay). While we were visiting Skye, it was interesting to spot Princess Anne and her husband heading in with their yacht. They often cruise the west coast between her multiple state engagements. They chose not to moor in our bay at Ornsay, heading to another bay slightly further north.

This wasn’t a surprising idea, because the forecast didn’t look at all promising, with fresh to strong westerlies coming overnight. Many other cruising yachts were heading in for overnight shelter. Lovely bagpipe music was coming from an old wooden yawl, welcoming boats in as the day wore on.

John looks across to the island of Ornsay. Photo: John Simpson

Another boat on a mooring close to us called Why Not began to pique our interest. She was an old 26ft Westerly Centaur from the 1970s. Down by the bow she was looking very lost. A local had fitted solar panels. Her main hatch was open enough to allow many birds to use the cabin.

Having read many articles about the difficulties and expense of disposing of old GRP boats, particularly from my pal who tries to save them, we began to wonder if Why Not was in fact a local wind-up. You probably need a good sense of humour if you live in this Sound because it’s a very wet place in winter.

The beach at Sandaig, looking towards Eigg. Photo: John Simpson

Clive revisited this harbour with Tintin early the next season. He mentioned that Why Not was no longer the local ‘Wagtail Hotel’, but had become a ‘Lobster Motel’ for a while.

She certainly looks much worse now she’s been re-floated! Another mate recently mentioned that she’s now adorned with a huge red duster (the normal British yacht ensign, rather than a blue one or the red-and-white version used by the Royal Navy). This was put up in the middle of the night! It’s this type of great ‘craic’ that makes cruising here even more fun…

John Simpson started racing and cruising dinghies. Deliveries and coaching followed. Now retired, John feels that he still hasn’t got enough saltwater in his veins yet. Photo: John Simpson

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After this, we headed north with the tide and ended up in Plockton. Having no set goals always makes cruising more fun. Plockton is just a few miles north of the Kyle of Lochalsh. Known as the ‘jewel of the Highlands’, it was created by Thomas Telford, who designed many of these local villages. It’s well sheltered in Loch Carron and is a highly popular place for tourists with a very active sailing community.

Clive Anderson wrapped up for the west coast. Photo: John Simpson

The next day we headed further north again using the tide up to the Gairloch and ended up picking up a mooring at Badachro. I am lucky enough to know most of these places, but only superficially from my days as an examiner. I was normally there in much colder, wetter and windier weather in the spring or autumn! It’s always much more fun when you’re relaxed and having a jolly with your pals.

We began to head back south towards Clive’s mooring, stopping at Plockton again overnight. Chris and Clive were both retired, but I was still flat-out coaching, delivering yachts or trying to spend some time with my wife Janet.

Why Not invited a little local mischief. The next season, she was even worse for wear. Photo: John Simpson

After a fast trip under Skye Bridge, we had a minor engine issue when we ran out of diesel in the starboard fuel tank and ended up having to sail into Arisaig. This is not ideal as it’s quite a rocky narrow harbour.

We arrived at 1710 after using some very big tides. This gave us a day’s grace to fix this fuel problem. It had been an excellent nine-day break.

Photo: Maxine Heath

Sadly, it was my last wonderful cruise with Clive. He knew that he had stage three-cancer, and we lost him the next season. Being a big-hearted and clever Scotsman, he’d lived his life mostly flat out anyway. We hadn’t gone far, but you don’t need to on the west coast because it’s such a wonderful cruising ground in summer. I’ll always miss him. Folks like Clive don’t come round every day.

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