JWN Andrewes
Poor Judge of Pasta.
1st June; part I
Another bacon & haggis bap from Tobermory Bakery, after which we joined a gathering crowd of folk down by the pontoon on the quay, expectations high for a trip out to sea on the hunt for cetaceans. A Spotted Flycatcher up on a dead snag kept us entertained while we waited for the off, and soon enough we were aboard, and on our way, passing a perched up White-tailed Eagle, Common Seals on the rocks, and then Mull receded behind us… and things went a bit quiet. There were a few Guillemots dotted about, some distant feeding Gannets, a Kittiwake or two, but no cetaceans.
Not much else realy until we approached the Treshnish Isles, where Shags loafed on the rocks, as did Common & Arctic Terns when not fishing, and Seals’ heads occasionally broke the water surface as they regarded our progress. But no cetaceans.
And then our youngest decided to be sick. Nice. Anna dealt with the unpleasantness, while I made probably not very helpful suggestions and hoped not be asked to provide any practical assistance. Fortunately Anna realised I’d probably only make things worse if I tried to help, so I was left to spot the trip’s only Puffin passing our stern, as well as our eldest’s 200th bird – a squadron of Manx Shearwaters scything past, flashing black to white and back to black again. Fabulous. But still no cetaceans.
And then it was time to head back, and now we were sailing with the tide, or the wind, perhaps both, or maybe the tide had changed or something, but whatever, the voyage was now a lot smoother. We took a turn on the upper deck, from where I picked up a Storm Petrel heading right to left across our bow, but it was too small, far out and fast moving for the boys to latch onto. And then while checking some fishing Gannets out towards Ardnamurchan I realsied that many of the splashes beneath them were way too big to have been formed by the sleek penetration of the Gannets, and some of them seemed tinged with a distinctive dirty dijon yellow – Dolphins ahoy!
Another bacon & haggis bap from Tobermory Bakery, after which we joined a gathering crowd of folk down by the pontoon on the quay, expectations high for a trip out to sea on the hunt for cetaceans. A Spotted Flycatcher up on a dead snag kept us entertained while we waited for the off, and soon enough we were aboard, and on our way, passing a perched up White-tailed Eagle, Common Seals on the rocks, and then Mull receded behind us… and things went a bit quiet. There were a few Guillemots dotted about, some distant feeding Gannets, a Kittiwake or two, but no cetaceans.
Not much else realy until we approached the Treshnish Isles, where Shags loafed on the rocks, as did Common & Arctic Terns when not fishing, and Seals’ heads occasionally broke the water surface as they regarded our progress. But no cetaceans.
And then our youngest decided to be sick. Nice. Anna dealt with the unpleasantness, while I made probably not very helpful suggestions and hoped not be asked to provide any practical assistance. Fortunately Anna realised I’d probably only make things worse if I tried to help, so I was left to spot the trip’s only Puffin passing our stern, as well as our eldest’s 200th bird – a squadron of Manx Shearwaters scything past, flashing black to white and back to black again. Fabulous. But still no cetaceans.
And then it was time to head back, and now we were sailing with the tide, or the wind, perhaps both, or maybe the tide had changed or something, but whatever, the voyage was now a lot smoother. We took a turn on the upper deck, from where I picked up a Storm Petrel heading right to left across our bow, but it was too small, far out and fast moving for the boys to latch onto. And then while checking some fishing Gannets out towards Ardnamurchan I realsied that many of the splashes beneath them were way too big to have been formed by the sleek penetration of the Gannets, and some of them seemed tinged with a distinctive dirty dijon yellow – Dolphins ahoy!
