Looking back at the Grey Dogs, from a distance of over 2km, it all seemed so calm and innocent.
To the north the mountains of Mull dominated the distant horizon. The long necklace of islands that make up the Garvellachs and the Black Islands lay in the middle distance and little Guirasdeal and Lunga were in the foreground. What a magnificent playground.
We paddled below the dark cliffs of the north shore of Scarba.
We were watched from upon high.
Rounding the NW corner of Scarba, distant Islay and Jura came into sight. We were now paddling on the open Atlantic and the swell increased.
We found a little scrap of beach with some shelter from a reef. Tony and Phil went in first. I made a very awkward landing. Then Tony got a good hold of my boat and Phil lifted me right out and up onto my feet. They then carried my boat well above the surge line. I had been fine when paddling, with my injured knee in its brace under my dry trousers, but I now realised how dependent I was on the others for landings.
Thanks guys, I could not have managed this trip without you!
:o)
