Running the storm

Unplanned events are often the best.

An impromptu offer of a trip on a friends boat came by text the other evening, and as the weather looked fair and we don’t get a chance to get out onto the water often, we jumped at the opportunity.

We drove down to Heaste, a village some miles away, where the boat was moored at the local pontoon. Heaste sits at the head of Loch Eishort, a long narrow sea loch that opens up into the sea, and that’s fringed on one side by the jagged silhouette of the Cuillin mountains in the distance.

Our friends, mussel farmers, steered the boat into the mouth of the loch where the waters mingled with those of Loch Slapin and the open sea, killed the engine and let her drift slowly in on the tide.

It was a fabulous evening. The mackerel were biting and we landed half a dozen or so in the first few minutes of fishing, clearly having hit a shoal. Beautiful fish, dazzling with iridescent turquoise markings and firm flesh.

As the sun dipped into the west, black clouds started to gather ominously and the first spots of rain fell. We decided that we’d pack up and motor back in, and it proved to be not a moment too soon as the wind picked up and drove the first spots of rain upon us.

The skies were a remarkable colour. Dark clouds infused with the golden light of the low sun, and a double rainbow glowing across the hillsides. It was a constantly changing tableau of light as the minutes passed and we motored back, running just ahead of the storm into safe harbour.

A magical evening, not least because of the weather. Good company, the joy of being out at sea, and the chance to experience Skye’s changing light and weather from a unique perspective.