Landfall on Jura

 Ian, Mike and myself met at Carsaig Bay on the west coast of Argyll on the morning of Tuesday 19th April 2016. Our original intention had been to set off on the preceding weekend but we are not masochists and it was so windy that many of the ferries were not operating on the Monday.

You can follow Ian's account starting here for the full sea kayaking stereovision experience.

 We set off as the tide was flooding northwards.

The Paps of Jura (27km away to the SW) rose above the headland guarding the south side of Carsaig Bay.

As we emerged from Carsaig Bay we caught sight of the low north end of Jura stretching away to the bulk of its northern neighbour the isle of Scarba. Our destination was the Gulf of Corryvreckan which lies between the two.

A very light breeze got up which...

...filled our sails as we paddle sailed straight across the Sound. In the hour of the crossing the tide carried us 5km up the coast of Jura where we...

...made landfall at Port Ban Mhic-a-Phi.  After our keels kissed the pale cobbles of the beach we stepped onto the ground of the hallowed isle of Jura, spiritual and actual home of the Jura Superstition which we carried in case of emergencies.

A foggy crossing to Gigalum and why I never go to sea without GPS.

Back on the first of October much of Scotland basked under the blue skies of an Indian summer. Ian and I decided on a short notice camping trip of two nights to Gigha and Cara. When I arrived at Tayinloan on the Kintyre mainland there were stunning blue skies but as Ian arrived thick mist rolled in from the sea. The very stuff that Paul McCartney wrote about when he was staying in his farm just down the road. We decided to take tea and cake at the excellent Ferry Farm Cafe which is adjacent to the ferry car park.

Well fortified, we set off into the fog on a 5km crossing of the Sound of Gigha. I regularly paddle in fog on the Solway and Ian and I have paddled together from Rum to Eigg in thick fog so we didn't think twice about it. I had plotted a waypoint into my GPS that would take us on a course that diverged south of the ferry route by 60 degrees. I had set it for the isle of Gigalum at the south end of Gigha as it would cross the Flat Rocks the Wee  Rocks and Gigalum Rocks on the way. This would expose us to the minimum danger of shipping as anyone with a draught of more than a few inches would keep well clear of these rocks in fog. The ferry captain did ask us about our plans as he was concerned in case he ran us down. However, he was reassured when he heard our plans. Of course both the wind and tide would carry us off course but I had set my GPS to give the bearing from our current position to the waypoint on Cara. As we crossed if the bearing dEcreased we went lEft and if it Increased we went rIght.

Half way across, the mist thinned just for a moment and we were lucky to experience this wonderful fogbow.

We caught sight of something in the mist. The fog magnifies everything and Ian thought it was an island with trees but it was just Gigalum rock with some cormorants on it. We were bang on course and Ian called the ferry captain on the VHF and let him know our exact position. We could hear his engine rumbling well to the north.

 Shortly afterwards we arrived at Gigalum and...

...a hazy sun put in a brief appearance as we paddled through the amazing Gigalum skerries. There was no chance of getting run over in the fog here. Many very experienced sea kayakers are disparaging of GPS and never use it. Pn the contrary, I never go to sea without a GPS (actually I have two, my phone is a backup). Of course on this crossing I was also using my compass, map, ears, nose, sense of what the wind was doing (and the smells it carried) and sense of what the tide was doing. I suspect that some of those who chose not to use GPS do so because they have not taken the effort to learn how they work and understand their advantages and disadvantages.

From the sublime to the ridiculous in the West Kyle.

As the two sides of the West Kyle of Bute gathered towards us we came to Kilmichael. In the field in front of the cottage there is a chambered cairn called St Michael's grave. St. Michael founded a church near by but this cairn predates the Christian era by about 2,000 years.

Just round the coast from the cairn is the ruin of this abandoned house. It was the ferryman's house for the ferry that ran from Kilmichael on Bute to Blair's ferry on the Cowal side of the kyle. Although the rocks look too inhospitable for landing, there is a little cut with a jetty just to the NW of the house. The ferry was established in 1769 and ran until 1940 when it was closed due to WW2 military operations and exercises in the area. The house was occupied until that time. The ferry man operated the premises as an inn called "The Bottle and Glass Inn". Unfortunately we had arrived well after closing time.

The Kames Hotel on the opposite side of the Kyle  was open but as it was such a glorious day we decided to stay in the sun for our second luncheon. Amazingly a southerly thermal wind picked up and gave...

...us a little assistance past Tighnabruich to Caladh Harbour at the north end of the kyle.

Then at the north end of Bute we passed blow two garishly painted rocks known as the Maids of Bute.

As you can see from this close up from our March trip, they look nothing like "maids". I doubt they will be as long lasting as the chambered cairn at Kilmichael.

After a short paddle through the tidal south channel at the Burnt Islands we arrived back...

...at the ferry terminal at Rhubodach just as the MV Loch Dunvegan was pulling away from the jetty. Our  four day trip from the Kyles of Bute to Loch Fyne and Inchmarnock was now over. Sadly the Scottish summer of 2015 seemed to coincide with those four days and it would be some time before we went on a camping trip again.

We took the Calmac ferry to Bute from Wemyss Bay then drove from Rothesay to Rhubodach. We covered 91km in 3 whole days paddling.

Inchmarnock to the West Kyle.

We left the lovely but low lying isle of Inchmarnock floating on a wide expanse of limpid sea. It was...

...dwarfed by the high mountains of Arran on the far side of the Sound of Bute.

Our passage across the Sound of Inchmarnock was accompanied by a black throated diver which flew round and round us until it lost interest as we...

 ...entered the narrowing...

 ...confines of the...

...West Kyle of Bute.

We took a last look back at Inchmarnock before the last stage of our journey, which would take us on a winding route deep into the mountains where there would be no sign of an open horizon.

Caught between midges and reefs on Inchmarnock, a hard place.

Mike and I rose early on Inchmarnock on the last day of our trip round the West Kyle, Loch Fyne and the Sound of Bute.

 Unfortunately so did the midges and we fled to the shore...

 ...where we had left our food and cooking things.

Despite the breeze, the early morning sun and the vast expanse of beach the midges were still biting. A good ploy on a sunny day is just to lie in bed until it is too hot for the midges. However, we had to get going early as the tide was ebbing fast and at low tide the cobbles run out and...

 ...jagged reefs separate the beach from the sea. You can find easier spots to land and camp at all states of the tide at the north and SE of Inchmarnock.

Fortunately the midges hurried our breakfast and packing and we were able to launch while the tide was still well above the reefs

Bracken time in Glenan Bay Loch Fyne.

It did not take Donald long to disappear down Loch Fyne in his SIB due to its 25HP Mariner outboard but...

...we were making good time assisted by the northerly breeze. A bend in the loch means that we could not see beyond the lochs shores but...

...there were plenty lovely bays at the foot of wooded hills to maintain our interest until...

...we rounded Eilean Buidhe and caught sight of Arran beyond the mouth of the loch.

Eilean Buidhe means yellow island and looking back it indeed looked yellow.

The wind was steadily increasing and before long we were back at Eilean a' Bhuic which stands guard at the mouth of Glenan Bay.

We had not stopped here on our way north but it seemed churlish not to do so now.

 It was spring low water so we left the boats at the water's edge and made our way to the top of the beach where...

 ...we enjoyed a splendid first luncheon as the Poravadie/Tarbert ferry plied her route with the mountains of Arran beyond.

We did not rush as we knew that David and Phil would be shortly leaving Mike and myself at Portavadie. Indeed this frond of bracken had unfolded considerably in the time it took us to finish.

The wind mills of Kintyre were birling in the north wind.

Just round the headland from our camp site, the main sweep of Kilfinan Bay is sand. As David was getting himself ready I went off for a little beach combing.

Our little beach had no sand but had these beautiful pebbles. As I was admiring their iridescent colours I heard the approach of an outboard motor...

 ...it turned out to be my brother...

 ...Donald who was out fishing in his SIB (soft inflatable boat). We swapped stories until...

 ...David was all packed and ready to go. David asked Donald if he had any oars for emergencies. Donald just laughed and pointed to the two outboards.

 Soon we were on the water and left Donald tidying his gear.

It did not take long for him to speed past us  on his way to Inchmarnock. He went on to cover 150km that day while we covered 27km!

Donald might have his two outboards but as the wind mills of Kintyre were birling in a north wind, we would have wind assistance the whole way!