I have been posting little snippets of various trips concurrently. For those who would like to follow the thread of a single trip, I hope this index will be useful.
Less is more round Lismore!
27/12/08
What a carry on round the Mull!
15/12/08 The Mull of Galloway
Another West coast sunset! Firth of Clyde
14/12/08 Bute from Portencross,
Dunure from Maidens, Firth of Clyde
06/12/08
The Four Castles of Carrick, Firth of Clyde.
02/11/08 Turnberry to Ayr
The River Fleet from Fleet Bay
17/10/08
Loch nan Ceall and the Sound of Arisaig
13/09/08
14/09/08
To the Corryvreckan
30/08/08 Seil to Scarba via the Corryvreckan
31/08/08 Scarba to Seil via the Grey Dogs and the Cuan Sound
The Mull of Kintyre
26/07/08 Macrihanish to Sanda via the Mull
27/07/08 Sanda to Davaar Island
To Islay
12/07/08 Claggain Bay
13/07/08 Traigh Bhan
14/07/08 An Claddach
15/07/08 Port Askaig
To St Kilda
30/05/08 Loch Roag
31/05/08 Taransay
01/06/08 Monach Islands
02/06/08 Hirta and Dun
03/06/08 am Village Bay, Hirta
03/06/08 pm Boreray and the stacks
04/06/08 Loch Reasort to Scarp
05/06/08 Pabaigh Mor and Bhacsaigh
To the Garvellachs
10/05/08 Seil to the Grey Dogs via the Corryvreckan
11/05/08 Grey Dogs to the Garvellachs and Seil
Lady Isle
08/05/08 A busy night at Troon
Ailsa Craig
05/05/08 Gannets and granite
Fleet Bay
02/05/08 Solway sunshine
A misty Firth of Clyde
27/04/08 Maidens to Ayr
Arran
18/03/08 Portencross to Brodick via the Wee Cumbrae, Bute and Glen Sannox
Mull of Galloway
17/02/08 Ardwell Bay to East Tarbet
Dorus Mor
12/02/08 Craignish through the Dorus Mor to Crinan and Loch Craignish then back through the Dorus Mor as the sun set.
The four maritime castles of Carrick
20/01/08 Turnberry to Ayr.
The Cumbraes and Bute
12/01/2008 A day trip in the Clyde from Largs
Imagine you are at the edge of the sea on a day when it is difficult to say where the land ends and the sea begins and where the sea ends and the sky begins. Sea kayaking lets you explore these and your own boundaries and broadens your horizons. Sea kayaking is the new mountaineering.
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query "18/03/2008". Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query "18/03/2008". Sort by date Show all posts
Monday, September 08, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
The heather on fire in an empty land.
Leaving Garroch Head it was an 11km crossing to Glen Sannox at the north east end of Arran. During the crossing we had the ebb tide running to the SE out of the Sound of Bute and a wind that increased to force 4 from the NW. We had to use quite a high ferry angle to counteract the effects of wind and tide.
At last we approached the bay at the mouth of the glen. We felt dwarfed by the mountains of Cir Mhor and Caisteal Abhail with its serrated ridge, Ceum na Caillich (the old woman's step). Glen Sannox has been populated for thousands of years. There are standing stones and an Iron Age fort but the saddest signs of past habitation are the outlines of once fertile runrigs (small raised fields) and the stones of flattend cottages.
The Vikings called the great sweep of golden sand "Sand-vik" (sandy bay) which was corrupted to the present day Sannox. This was once the most populous part of Arran but in 1832 the Duke of Hamilton cleared the crofters off the land of the Glen. Half a century later, a poet, Mathilde Blind, visited Arran and wrote this:
I stood on the site of such a ruined village. All that remained of the once flourishing community was a solitary old Scotchwoman, who well remembered her banished countrymen. Her simple story had a thrilling pathos, told as it was on the melancholy slopes of the North Glen Sannox, looking across to the wild broken mountain ridges called "The Old Wife's Steps." Here, she said, and as far as one could see, had dwelt the Glen Sannox people, the largest population then collected in any one spot of the island, and evicted by the Duke of Hamilton in the year 1832. The lives of these crofters became an idyll in her mouth. She dwelt proudly on their patient labour, their simple joys, and the kind, helpful ways of them; and her brown eyes filled with tears as she recalled the day of their expulsion, when the people gathered from all parts of the island to see the last of the Glen Sannox folk ere they went on board the brig that was bound for New Brunswick, in Canada. "Ah, it was a sore day that," she sighed, "when the old people cast themselves down on the seashore and wept."
Mathilde Blind went on to write a poem about the Clearances called "The Heather on Fire".
From 1840 to 1862 the Duke ran a baryte (barium sulphate) mine in the glen. It reopened in 1919 and a wooden pier was built on the sands with a light railway connecting it to the mine. The mine closed in 1938 and the pier and the railway were removed in the late 1940s. You can still see the bases of the pier columns in the sands.
18/03/2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
"Doon the Watter" on the Clyde
As the Ayrshire coast slipped away behind us, the weather front that had come in during the night moved away south. We were left in a cold, clear northerly airstream.
We passed the south end of Little Cumbrae Island and looking north we could see the distant mountains of Argyll behind the magnificent Stevenson lighthouse with its copper dome.
We continued on a north westerly course for the island of Bute. As we cleared Little Cumbrae we could see into Millport Bay on Great Cumbrae island. At one time this was a premier holiday destination for thousands of Glasgwegian workers. Steamers raced each other from the Broomielaw wharf in the heart of Glasgow to the piers on the Clyde resorts. It was known as going "doon the watter". The holidaymakers moved on to Blackpool, then the Costas and Florida leaving Millport as a sleepy little place, even in the height of summer.
18/03/2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Two harbours Corrie, nor any drop to drink.
From Sannox we proceeded south along the east coast of Arran until we came upon the delightful hamlet of Corrie. Despite its diminutive size, Corrie boasts two harbours. We were by now exceedingly parched and Thirsty Tony suggested landing at the Corrie Hotel for a little liquid sustenance.
The landing on the rocky foreshore was not easy, the bay immediately below the hotel sported a large sewage pipe. We did not wish to discover if this was still a source of Clyde bananas so we moved further south.
Thirsty Tony strides purposefully towards the Corrie Hotel.
First impression was encouraging. The hotel is the largest building in the village and is solidly constructed from the local red sandstone. The door to the grand entrance portico squeaked loudly as we pushed it open. To the experienced reviewer, this did not seem like a potral that has recently been well excercised servicing the arrivals and departures of needy travellers. Inside was like the Marie Celeste, a dry, dusty glass stood alone in a corner. The bar looked as if it had been abandoned in a hurry, there were no bodies under the tables. A line from the Rime of the Ancient Mariner came to mind: "nor any drop to drink".
The late winter sun shown down through the windows. Motionless dusty sunbeams hung in the still cold air and nothing stirred to disturb the particles of dust.
"Hello" I croaked (I was thirsty after all).
"Anybody there?" added an equally hoarse Tony.
Somewhere deep in the bowels of the house another door creaked followed by a slight shuffling noise. After what seamed like an age, a delightful old lady appeared in her slippers with a woolen shawl tightly wrapped round her shoulders to ward off the chill. She looked at us expectantly.
"Is it possible to get a drink please?" asked Tony, pointing towards the empty bar.
She didn't seem to understand as she replied "They've all gone."
"Gone where?" I asked, sensing a mystery.
"For the winter." muttered Tony under his breath, which condensed in the cold air.
"Are you boys geologists?" she enquired.
"Actually we are sea kayakers." I replied before apologising for disturbing her afternoon and bidding her farewell.
Our visit was in the week before the Easter weekend, we thought a tourist business would be delighted to see our custom after a long winter. However, we were not seen as the first swallows of spring. We left the premises as dry as we had arrived. This, it has to be said was a first for the staff of seakayakphoto.com. Tony and I are generous in our assessments of sea kayaking hostelries but on this occasion, I am afraid we have to award this establishment 0/10. That's right, nul point.
If you visit in the summer you may well find this to be a welcoming establishment with its taps running free and its glasses overflowing with refreshing liquids but we cannot recommend it for a winter refreshment.
We do however, plan to return...
18/03/2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Clyde Bananas
The cold sea air and early morning start had given us an appetite so we decided to make Glencallum Bay on the south end of Bute our first landfall. As the ebb had already started we had to cross the channel at a surprisingly high ferry angle. In southerly winds a surprisingly heavy race develops off nearby Garroch Head.
Until relatively recently, Glasgow’s sewage sludge boat the SS Shieldhall (or SS Gardy Loo as she was known to the hoi poloi) used to make her way here from the Shieldhall sewage works in the river Clyde. She would proceed to dump her load in the ebb tide. Glaswegians were so partial to little trips “doon the water” that it was possible to buy tickets for a sailing on the SS Gardy Loo to witness the spectacle of their fellow citizens’ keech spilling out on this beautiful sea. She was one of a succession of “Clyde Banana Boats” It has to be said a Clyde Banana was far from yellow.
Fortunately we live in slightly more enlightened times and our appetites and lunch were not spoiled by the appearance of any Clyde Bananas on this now delightful shore.
In the days of sailing ships Glencallum Bay offered shelter from northerly winds and the bay was often filled with anchored vessels waiting for better conditions. These few stones are all that remains of a popular drinking establishment which served their needs. We too enjoyed the shelter of the bay. We took in the view to the southwest over the Rubh an Eun light to the Little Cumbrae and the distant Ayrshire coast beyond but it would be much later before we could slake our thirsts.
18/03/2008
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Goatfell
In a perilously thirsty state, we proceeded down the east coast of Arran until we entered Brodick Bay. I turned back to view the mountains.
Goatfell is the highest of Arran's mountains. It is 874 m or 2868 feet so is not a Munro but it is a fine view from the top.
Here is another view of Goatfell, from the top of nearby Cir Mhor.
18/03/2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Portencross Castle
Friday, March 21, 2008
Between sunshine and shadow on the Clyde
From Little Cumbrae we paddled for Glencallum Bay at the south end of the island of Bute. The hills on the island were dappled with sunshine.
Far away, to the south west, the higher Arran hills were still wreathed in cloud. Fresh snow could be seen highlighting the rocky ridges of north Glen Sannox.
18/03/2008
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Sannox sunset
After getting off the ferry at Ardrossan, we returned to our departure point at Portencross as the sun was setting.
The winter sky turned to gold..
... as it set to the north of the Sannox mountains on Arran.
The setting sun's last rays had left the mountain tops in the gathering cold and darkness of night. But even after the sun had sunk well below the horizon, the tops of high clouds still caught the last of the fleeting winter day.
A perfect winter's day.
18/03/2008
Thursday, April 03, 2008
An Arran arrival at Brodick Bay
We crossed the great sweep of Brodick Bay, which is skirted by beautiful reddish sands. Until very recently you would not have chosen to go for a summer swim in this lovely spot due to the dreaded Clyde bananas. However, in 2005 the crude sewage outfall was finally replaced by a new sewage treatment system.
A side effect of the building of this system is that Brodick now has a new public slipway. This is conveniently situated close to the ferry pier. We leaned back and pulled our kayaks up the slip on their trolleys as the snow clouds started to gather again round Arran's rocky ridges.
It had been a long hard paddle and we were both suffering from an unslaked thirst as we turned to take a first look at Brodick....
18/03/2008
Friday, April 04, 2008
Nae half pint glasses in Mac's Bar, Brodick
We emerged from the sea at the top of the slipway and blinked in Brodick's late winter afternoon sunlight. We were both seriously drouthy but, to our delight, we discovered that the slipway was truly conveniently located. We spied Mac's Bar, an unassuming 70's appendage to one of Brodicks waterfront hotels.
The convenient parking for kayaks caught the reviewer's eye.
If one reads the TripAdvisor review for this bar and its attached hotel one might choose to pass by.
"Not only is the hotel a complete disgrace, it boasts its very own working mens club also known as Macs Bar."
"On going to Mac's Bar, it was full of what appeared to be workmen who obviously only know how to converse in the vernacular."
"The first round of drinks I got was a joke, there were no half pint glasses."
Well with a name like Mac's Bar, Tony and I were certainly not expecting the Ritz cocktail lounge, with free paper umbrellas in sugary drinks. Tony and I are (edukatit) working men. We speak the vernacular. Neither of us even knew you get half pint glasses, certainly not in a bar!! We were thirsty. We went in.
The barman was a mature gentleman with a quick eye. He had spotted us paddling across the bay and he must have identified us as Guinness drinkers from afar. I swear he started pouring the the first pint of ice cold Guinness before we had even got to the bar. He courteously asked where we had paddled from and by the time the pints were poured he had said he hoped we had enjoyed our visit to Arran.
Sitting by the window, Tony enjoyed a view of Goatfell and I had a view of the bay, with the heavy responsibility of alerting Tony when our boat came in.
The Guinness (in pint glasses) was excellent.
Well despite the Tripadvisor reviews, we can thoroughly recommend Mac's Bar (and slipway).
Leaving the bar, we eventually found our way to the MV Caledonian Isles using a map Tony had sketched on the back of a napkin. No longer thirsty, we were now looking forward to Calmac's acclaimed chicken curry, rice AND chips on the crossing back to Ardrossan.
I am very sorry if you have visited this blog with the expectation of reading about great circumnavigations or huge open crossings. Tony and I neither had the inclination to circumnavigate Arran nor to paddle back to Ardrossan. That's what ferries are for!
18/03/2008
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Between a pox and a hard place on Stac Lee.
From the cliffs on the NE coast of Hirta it is less than 7km across the Atlantic to Boreray and its two satellite stacs. They are Stac Lee and Stac an Armin (in the shade behind). They are the highest stacks in the British Isles. The islanders kept sheep on Boreray and also visited these islands for the sea bird harvest in August. Amazingly there are also about 50 cleitean on Boreray and about 80 on Stac an Armin!
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There were also bothies on all three. The one on Stac Lee can still be found. It is just below the dark "V" under the left of the white stained summit cap of the island. The island and stacs are too exposed to leave a boat, so work parties were dropped off by a boat from Hirta, which would return when a signal indicated the work was done.
In 1729 a smallpox epidemic was started after a St Kildan had died on Harris from smallpox the previous year. As his clothes were still good, they were brought back to St Kilda and the smallpox gripped the population. At the time, three adults and eight boys were marooned on Stac Lee because there were no surviving adults, strong enough to man the boat from Hirta, to rescue them. They remained on this windswept rock for 9 months, through the winter and into the next summer, until the factor's boat from Harris relieved them. When they returned to Hirta, they found only one adult and 18 children had survived the epidemic from the population of nearly 200.
Remarkably St Kilda was repopulated in the 1730's from Harris, Uist and Skye. Life may have been tough on St Kilda but it was even worse for many on these other islands. The incomers were taught how to climb the cliffs and harvest birds by the few survivors. By 1758 the population had risen to 88 but it would never again reach 200. The decline had started.
03/06/2008 am