It was a beautiful clear sunny day, with a wind just cool enough to keep it from being unpleasantly hot. On the top deck of the ferry, we discovered that the walkway went right round the bows under the bridge. Going forward, we saw this cruising along the far bank:
I thought she looked rather odd with her straight bow and curving stern. I wouldn't go as far as to say she is ugly - I don't believe any vessel with sails is ever really ugly - but she certainly looked business like. I thought from here that she was actually very modern, but that's just an illusion because of her new masts and spars; she's actually from around the late 1800s or early 1900s, and her design was actually pioneered in Aberdeen. This sort of vessel was used for fishing. Although, I didn't learn that until two or three weeks later, when we stopped in Aberdeen on the way home from Shetland, having visited Lerwick as the next port of call on the Tall Ships race.
Looking downriver, we could see right out to see, past both Arran and Cumbrae (Arran's the lumpy one on the right):
On the other side, we could see up Loch Long:
This is as far up Loch Long as we could see; the loch turns the corner here.
It was such a clear day we could see the Cairngorms, further inland:
A closer look at the mountains:
Although we were in brilliant sunshine, not everywhere had such nice clear weather:
Further across the river, we could look back and see right up Holy Loch:
All the way up to the head of the loch:
The red blob on the left hand side is the car ferry in the photo above.
The houses back in Dunoon (or rather, Hunter's Quay) looked very picture-postcard-y:
At this point, we packed up our cameras and made ready to make a run for the train. We made a mad dash from the ferry, though it turned out that we didn't need to; the trains are timed to meet the ferry. Or, probably the other way around.
Gourock station is right next to the ferry pier, and thus is right on the shore. There was a wall between our platform and the sea. Well, a sheer drop to the sea. Over the wall, I could see these two lucky people sailing a very very nice dinghy. (I think it was a Firefly).
Once the train arrived, we hopped on board (with the hoards of people), luckily getting a table to ourselves. Across from us, we heard two natives discussing where to get off. The official paperwork told people to get off the train at a certain station, but the conversation that we overheard established that that was right at the far end of the Tall Ships area, and that actually, getting off at the previous station would be better because it's closer to the centre of the festival, and there'd be fewer people queueing there.
P and I decided we liked the sound of this, and were up for an adventure. We followed the natives off the train, and down a narrow alley between warehouses (clearly related to the docks) and then along the side of a main road. It was only around ten thirty in the morning, but there were plenty of people spread along both sides of the road, all heading for the tall ships.
We made the trip to Dunoon primarily to visit Royalist. Royalist is the sea cadet ship, and P had sailed on her several times as a cadet. She wasn't going up to Shetland, and so we'd decided to head across to visit her, since she was nearby. Besides, I'd heard plenty of stories about her, and wanted to see her for myself.
We spotted her just as the train pulled into the station; the sign hung in place of her main topsail was hard to miss.
But on arriving at the docks, surrounded by hundreds of people, and a forest of masts, we lost her. We were heading up towards on side of the dock, alongside the warehouses when I spotted her masts again, on the far side of the dock to where we were.
We dashed through the crowds of people. (We thought it was busy. We were wrong. We could actually move between groups of people; later in the day, you couldn't move between groups of people, you had to wriggle past people to make any progress. They were like sardines.)
Anyway, we made it to the edge of quayside. There were barriers preventing us getting very close, and the tide was out, so Royalist seemed far below us, with her mainsail yardarms almost level with where we were standing. P had made a phonecall before we arrived; HQ had said that once we arrived, we were just to ask and we'd be taken on board. We stared down at Royalist; there was no chance of speaking to anyone from up here, we'd need to get closer.
In person, Royalist was even more stunning than the photos I'd seen. Her proportions were just perfect, she was big enough but not too big. Her masts fitted her size, and she just looked...well, beautiful. I could see why P had fallen in love; and I was determined that one day I would get to sail on her.
(See? Is she not one of the most beautiful ships you've ever seen?)
Having made up our minds, we headed round to the head of the dock, where we'd seen a ramp down to the pontoon. There was a flaw in the plan; a locked gate, with security guards. We explained what we wanted, but they said they couldn't let us both through. One of us would need to go through and bring back a member of the crew.
P gave me his bags, and set off through the gate. I hung around watching people, my heart in my mouth. Would we be allowed on board? He seemed to be away for ages, but suddenly I caught sight of a familiar hat on the pontoon - and a guy in overalls beside it.
Arriving at the gate, they let me in, and I bounced through, probably grinning my head off. I was introduced to Steve, the engineer (hence the overalls). He was delighted to take us on board, and he offered to give us a tour. P and I exchanged excited and gleeful looks. We were getting on board! And getting a tour, as well!
(This is actually the very first photo I ever took of Royalist. The fact that at that moment her ensign was flying in the wind, rather than hanging limply, seemed to fit with the tone of the holiday, with having perfect timing on everything, down to whether flags flew or not. Besides, Royalist is the best tall ship - it seemed to me completely natural for her flag to be blowing perfectly at that moment!)
The tour was very exciting; I got to see all over the ship, from the fo'c'sle and mess deck where the cadets lived and slept, all the way back to the crew cabins and mess deck at the stern. Then we were allowed to wander around on deck. I moseyed up to the bows, and looked at the bowsprit, wondering if I'd ever be able to stand here and look at it with blue water below and the wind in the rigging, the ship alive and at sea.
We sat and chatted with Steve and a few other crew members for a bit, learning more about the ship and hearing stories about her, but the cadets were starting to turn up; it was getting to be time for their lunch, so we took our leave.
Probably we were meant to go straight back and out the gate, but we decided (who wouldn't?!) to make the most of it while we were in the restricted crew quarters. We wouldn't get another chance!
You can see here how far below the the level of the quayside she is. Add to the height difference the fact that the metal barriers to keep the crowd back are a good four or five feet back from the edge, and it's really impossible to talk to people on board when the tide is out. In fact, you can't even see the top of the barriers, they're so far back from the edge of the dock.
We walked up the pontoon, away from Royalist, as far as we could go. The ketch we'd seen on the ferry crossing (or one very similar) was moored nearby:
To our left, out in the middle of the dock, this ketch was being manoevered. There wasn't much room for the boats to manoever, so they used ribs to nudge them into their mooring place. The military vessels next to them were two officer training vessels, one of which was commissioned when P was in the sea cadets - coincidentally, he'd actually been at the commissioning. This too appeared to be the theme for our holiday.
We walked back to Royalist. By this time the cadet (sitting next to Royalist's bowsprit, above) had gone on board for his lunch. Of course, I took a ridiculous number of pictures of Royalist - but she was undeniably the prettiest vessel there. The crew agreed; they said that most people think she looks like the quintissential pirate ship, which is why they like her, but usually, the public seems to agree that Royalist is always their favourite vessel. So, it's not just that we're biased, it's just that she's such a lovely ship.
Here's a view from under the bowsprit - I took this because I wanted a photo of what Royalist would look like if you approached her in a dinghy.
We walked past Royalist (I tried not to look enviously at the cadets on board) and took more photos from her stern. I took this one of her masts and rigging; I wanted to climb the shrouds so badly...
...that I could almost feel what it would be like to stand up on one of those platforms, or to climb out on the yard arm... One day! In the meantime, I'd better get on with learning the names of all those ropes - and what they do. At this point I should admit that I'm geeky enough to have several books on tall ships' rigs and rigging - though book-learning is no replacement for actually doing the job.
I like this one because it's exactly what I was seeing at the time - it gives a good idea of what it was like being down on the pontoon with the steep walls of the dock seeming to tower above us.
Once again her ensign was being very obliging:
Most of the tall ships had new metal spars and masts; only one of them - another brig, similar to Royalist but a bit larger - still had masts and spars that were wooden. She can just be seen in the background here.
Once we had looked at her and admired her as much as possible, we headed along the pontoon towards the stairs...after one last longing look:
We walked along the pontoon, ogling everyone else's ships. There was a mix of tall ships, ketches, sloops, cutters and yachts in this dock. Dpanier looked like a good size of yacht - big enough to be roomy, small enough to handle.
This beauty is Opposition:
Opposition was originally owned by Edward Heath, British Prime Minister, though she was named Morning Cloud then. Heath was a keen yachtsman, and used Morning Cloud in the Admiral's Cup, which he won - the only British Prime Minister to ever have captained a winning team.
Later on, P ended up chatting to the captain of this vessel (who said she's beautiful below decks too) who said that next time we meet, we're invited on board. He'd have invited us then and there, but they were leaving to go on shore. He told us that we needed to come to Cowes for Cowes week.
In the background you can see all the people round the dock peering at the boats, it was sort of like being in a goldfish bowl. This was still very early though - later in the day, that crowd was at least two people thick, and there wouldn't have been any spaces between people.
Opposition had lovely lines:
Beyond Opposition, we could see the two Ocean Youth Trust Scotland yachts. They have two smaller yachts too - one of which we've sailed off the west coast before.
We walked on round the stern of Opposition, which was moored right in the corner. Here one of the crew give a handy size comparison:
Without people:
There were plenty of yachts:
I spy a fairly piratical-looking brig, luring us to continue round the pontoon:
I shouldn't give piratical brigs too much credit though - neither of us wanted to climb up and out of the dock without having seen as many of the boats up close and personal as possible. This was too good a chance not to take it.
Beyond the OYT boats was this beauty, a lovely gaff-rigged cutter. A few crew members were on deck, working or snoozing in the sun. We spoke to two of them who told us that in the storms they'd encountered on the way up, they'd sustained some damage when the gaff failed or snapped and the mainsail came down. They were trying to fix it in preparation for the next leg of the race.
Irene looked well cared for, but it was quite evident that she was an older craft.
Except, the crew told us, she wasn't. In the 1980s, she caught fire, and burned down to the waterline - everything in this picture that's painted grey and blue, everything to that red line was burned. The owner has lovingly reconstructed everything. It was a work of art, and very awe-inspiring.
I'm sure you can spot a familiar paint scheme beyond that bowsprit!
Yep, Royalist!
And another OYT yacht. All the boats had hung up bunting.
I thought she looked very military like from this angle, particularly with the gun-ports. Unfortunately they're not really gun ports - there's no space below decks for any guns, and she'd never have carried any. They're part of the paint scheme, but they really add to the overall look. Royalist evokes something of a bygone age of sail, and I think that sense of adventure and romance is what people are responding to when they think she's the most beautiful ship.
While for me, Royalist was definitely the most beautiful vessel there, she definitely wasn't the only beautiful vessel.
This side of the dock was quite chilly and damp; the dock walls were high enough to cast a good shadow:
At the far end of the pontoon was the (to me) Mysterious Brig. I think it's because of her masts and yardarms being wooden, especially such dark wood. To me, she seems like much more of a pirate ship (the business-like murdering sort, not the romanticised Captain Jack variety) than Royalist.
She does look rather less piratical with a bright red rib suspended from the davits though!
Here's the black ketch again:
The boats looked very festive with all the bunting:
A size comparison; the John Laing looks like a good-sized yacht until you see her next to a small tall ship. They didn't seem to have much order to the way they'd arranged the vessels. Usually the smaller ones would be moored together, and the larger ones moored together. Here, they were all mixed.
Using my zoom lens, I took the opportunity to get a shot of the scroll work on Royalist's bows, as well as her name plate.
We'd seen everything we could at this end of the pontoon; it was time to head back and up the steps onto dry land. I took one last picture of Royalist:
At this point, I shall once again pause (hopefully not for as long), since it's bedtime.
