Six hours afloat and a guided tour to vindicate a fictional sailing heroine’s navigational skills
Writing books that involve messing around in boats means I meet so many fine fellow enthusiasts.
I got to know Christian Kogler, an author and filmmaker from Austria, through a voyage in one of my crime novels. He was studying navigation with the plan of getting a boat of his own, and he messaged me on Facebook, saying that he thought Cass, my sailing heroine, had got lost in her own waters, turning north to go to Hamnavoe, which was clearly south on Google maps.
Mistaken identity
The thing is, there are several Hamnavoes in Shetland because it’s Viking-speak for a voe (sea-inlet) with a safe landing (Ham or Havn). I had a look on Google and found that for some reason the Hamnavoe Cass was heading for, north from Scalloway, wasn’t marked. It’s the neat horse-shoe bay just round the corner from the Eshaness lighthouse. It’s a while since I was there, but I remember there being rocks at the entrance, and the trick to get in is to keep sailing till the hole in the island behind you opens up–it’s a volcanic plug called Muckle Ossa, which is two islands pretending to be one until you get it at the right angle. Please check the pilot book if you want to try it, and remember the salmon boats use the pier.
I explained the multiple Hamnavoes to Christian to vindicate Cass’s reputation, and we got chatting. When he said he planned to visit Shetland, of course, I invited him to come out for a sail when he got here. He went straight off and booked his flight!
He was lucky: it turned out the most glorious summer day, with the sky Mediterranean blue, and the hills their soft summer green. There wasn’t much wind when we set out, so we motored up the voe, then through the Røna channel to the Atlantic, where the summer-cobalt sea washed the fireorange cliffs of Muckle Roe. There was a haze round the horizon, but Papa Stour was clear to the west, and we could just see the arched rock Dores Holm black to the north, against the Eshaness cliffs.
We weren’t going that far; I’d decided to picnic in another Ham, the South Ham of Muckle Roe. The North Ham is stiff with rocks, but the South Ham is a bonny bay with a wide, sandy beach. There are rocks on the west side, the far side from th
