Riding the Grey Dogs

The VHF crackled into life: “Moonshadow, Moonshadow,  I’ve just looked at the pilot and I think we’ve timed it right to take a short cut through the Grey Dogs………what do you think, over”  

This was Mick, skipper of one of the 4 yachts we were sailing in company with.  We were enjoying a short sail from Loch Craignish to the Black Isles with a party of German guests.  The call sent a buzz of anticipation around the boat – how could we refuse the challenge.

The Grey Dogs, or Little Corryvreckan, lies between the islands of Scarba and Lunga. It is the smaller cousin of the Gulf of Corryvreckan, situated between Scarba and Jura. The tide runs at over 8 knots in both the Grey Dogs and Corryvreckan, however the Grey Dogs is much narrower, restricting a vessel’s room to maneouvre.  In adverse conditions 3 metre standing waves are a regular feature here – not for the faint hearted.

Then we’re at the entrance and hear a shout from the shore – “Straight down the middle!”  A ghillie, greallaching a stag high on the dark slopes of Scarba, has spotted our antics and encourages us with a hearty wave. 

The first 2 boats go through (they've done it before) and send instructions back over the VHF – “……keep to the left, there’s a big standing wave in the middle, but it’s not impossible…..”  The next boat makes short work of it and then Mick takes his turn.  We watch anxiously as his boat swings broadside to the channel – out of control – but eventually recovering to forge through to the other side.  “Don’t worry!” comes the call.  “That wasn’t as bad as it looks – my steering locked, but all ok now.  Enjoy the ride.”

Then it’s our turn. "Hold on tight!" shouts the skipper and 10 pairs of knuckles turn white as we surge into the foaming breakers, shooting past swirling whirlpools and white crashing waves. Moonshadow’s bow ploughs through the turbulent waters; we hold our breath, then whoop with delight at this rollercoaster of a ride.  All too soon, we’re out of it – the sea is peaceful once more.   

Over our shoulders we watch the final boat enter the fray - no holds barred they head staight for the standing wave - emerging unscathed and triumphant.  

As heart rates return to normal we exchange glances - feel exhilarated and energized.............................now, just how big was that wave?