DAN MACKAY: Ahoy, me hearties! This landlubber is taking to the high seas…
The Real MacKay by Dan MacKay
I decided to become a master mariner. Accordingly, I bought a small craft to explore these unchartered northern waters. Well, at least unchartered by me.
Made from glass fibre she has nice lines and a for’ard cabin that will be good for storage and to shelter from the stormy seas!
Being a complete novice, I omitted to spot the obvious transom stern repairs that would be necessary. But I soon had plenty advisers to keep me right. And, being something of a health and safety freak, I started the first of what was to become many “to do” lists.
New outboard engines (the second one a backup, just in case…), a handheld VHF radio, ropes, fenders, life jackets, life buoy, a boat hook, the list went on… and on.
Kenny Mackenzie, the manager at Robertson’s Wick depot, became my technical adviser whilst Lybster’s John Cameron my go-to boat repair expert.
Michael Kuczynski, Staxigoe’s sage harbour master, tells me he had never seen a boat launched piggy back from another trailer (it’s a long story). But the high tide send-off by The Stack’s slipway went just like clockwork.
Confirmed landlubber mates offered all sorts of advice. “Avoid the seabed,” one intoned. “Keep a man up front with a plumb line,” said another.
I was told to remember that “Arr” means yes. Whilst “Avast” meant stop.
And now I know that if I stretch my arms out sideways the distance between my hands is one fathom. I am sure that will come in handy, to excuse the pun.
Some commented that I looked like Captain Birdseye, someone else thought Captain Pugwash.
Anyway, we have launched and I have my own berth in Wick harbour marina. If only I could learn to stop crashing into it when I return from lengthy voyages! I will master a slower approach and a nice gentle reverse gear slow down – one day!
Thank goodness Angie MacAulay, from Ackergill, helped with fenders and rope tying advice. And I am insured in case I inadvertently spark a maritime calamity.
I thought a boat made-up name encompassing letters from Ruth, Kirsty and Ali (my three daughters) would be unique. But ‘RuKiAli’ did not sound right. And, in any case, the boys in the Seaforth Club decided “she” should be called Danny Boy. And so it is.
My brother Thomas, who has had a couple of boats in the past, has been keeping me right. It all helps with the confidence building.
It is a great feeling to be out on the open water. We passed under the towering Cape Horn on our way to Sandigoe beach – a favourite childhood haunt of the Mackay and Swanson families.
Well, more Noss Head, but our local equivalent of Cape Horn. And what a massive skelp of rock it is!
Future plans include long-range expeditions to Sinclair Girnigoe Castle, the Old Man o’ Wick, and Sarclet Haven. It is the Viking in me…
I’m looking out for kinder weather. The season is a short one. I plan to pressgang many unsuspecting friends and family members. But not to keel haul them.
To breath in the sea tang, me hearties! Bobbing out there on the gentle North Sea rollers. Sharing deeds of derring do.
Uncle Albert, in Peckham, will be proud of me!