A series of coincidences on our leaving Cara and Gigha.

 We enjoyed a leisurely first luncheon on the white shell sands of Port Sgiathain on the south west coast of Gigha. (Perhaps it was only second breakfast because I cannot recall if any essence of Jura was consumed.) We were in no hurry as we wished to use the ferry slipway at Tayinloan to recover our kayaks. Having no desire to inconvenience the ferry or experience the unleashing of its ramp we planned our our crossing so that it would coincide withe the ferry's departure from Tayinloan. This meant that it would overtake us on our crossing of the Sound of Gigha so we kept a sharp lookout behind.

The rumble of engines soon announced the passage of the MV Loch Ranza but we were well to the south of her course. For the first time Ian caught a clear sight of the Paps of Jura and I regailed him of the trip Tony and I had made to Jura back in April. So that's another future trip sorted!

 Gradually Gigha, the Paps of Jura and...

...Cara with its white sands, Mull and Brownie slipped astern as we approached...

 ...Tayinloan on the Kintyre side of the Sound.

 We had only the briefest of stops, while the ferry finished loading, during which we had time to admire...

 ...the creel boat Kyra OB469 before...

 ...the Loch Ranza departed with another cheery wave from her captain.

 As the ferry motored her way back to Gigha...

 Ian and I landed on the slipway and strolled back to the cars for our kayak trolleys. It had been a truly laid back and delightful trip and we savoured our last moments on the west coast of Kintyre. We were in no particular hurry and decided to enjoy the delights of Jessie's Ferry Farm Tearoom before heading on our way. Coincidentally Ian and I both chose the daily special, wild boar with chorizo burgers which were literally immensely satisfying! Ian and I now faced equally long drives to diametrically opposite parts of Scotland. Ian to Grampian in the NE and myself to Galloway in the SW. Amazingly we each arrived safely within 10 minute of each other. What a coincidence! But this was not the only coincidence on this trip. I had set my iPod onto shuffle play and remarkably the second song which came on as I was driving north on Kintyre towards West Loch Tarvert was by Paul McCartney and Wings. No it wasn't Mull of Kintyre, with its mist rolling in from the sea (of which we had seen plenty). It was Helen Wheels, which recounts one of the McCartney family trips from their farm on Kintyre to London in their trusty LandRover which they called "Helen Wheels". I am pretty sure that the Brownie of Cara would not know how to hack an iPod shuffle play order....or would he?


Altogether we had enjoyed two half days and one full day paddling 51km round Gigha and Cara. It was probably about my 10th sea kayaking trip but Ian's first. Like me, he plans to return but I do not think that is a chance coincidence!

Farewell to Cara

From the Mull of Cara we paddled up the east coast of the island  where even in the gentle swell there were surf traps for the unwary. The rocks here were still white with cormorant guano though...

 ...only a few birds remained.

We were not the only ones leaving Gigha and Cara. This beautiful yacht had moored overnight at Ardminish Bay on Gigha and was now taking advantage of the settled weather to make her way back from the West Coast to the Isle of Man via the Mull of Kintyre and the North Channel.

We came to a beautiful series of tombola beaches before...

 ...saying our final farewells to Cara and the Brownie and setting off across the Sound of Cara to Gigalum.

 This was another excuse to paddle through the Gigalum reefs...

 ...leaving the Mull of Cara far in our wakes.

The SW coast of Gigha proved to be...

 ...equally rewarding with crystal clear waters.

We could not resist pulling into Port an Sgiathain on Gigha for a leisurely first luncheon before starting the crossing back to Kintyre..

A meeting with the latter day Brownie of Cara at the Mull.

 When we woke on Cara on the third and last day of our trip the skies were overcast but there was no wind or swell which would make ideal conditions to round the Mull of Cara.

We set off round Cara in an anticlockwise direction which took us through the skerries on the island's NW coast.

 An unmistakable odour revealed a number of the island's large goat population.

As soon as we were out of the shelter of the skerries we encountered swell which is often a reason to keep well out but it was just about as flat as I have ever seen it.

Ian had not being expecting the Mull of Cara to be particularly impressive so he was delighted when we first saw its rocky profile.

 It was so calm we were able to paddle right into Dead Man's Bay to the west of the Mull.

 Ian was dwarfed by the scale of the rocks which had fallen from the Mull in a huge landslide in 1756. The resulting tsunami destroyed coastal houses on Cara, Gigha and the west coast of Kintyre as far north as West Loch Tarbert.

 We took it in turn to paddle out to get some good distance shots. It was slack water but when the tide is running against the wind here, photography would be the last thing on your mind.

 High above the sightless stone eyes of the Cara eagle gazed out to the Atlantic. For a time we had had the impression we were being watched and had caught an occasional sight of a small brown figure flitting from rock to rock. Was it the Brownie?...

 Then we say it. It was the alpha male goat of Cara. He was perched on a comfortable rock...

...high on the cliffs of the Mull...

...watching over his flock below. We paddled on leaving the Mull of Cara to the goats and the Brownie.

Brownies, saints and crispy bottoms on Cara.

As we pulled our kayaks up the beach on Cara we saw the first and only glimpse of sunshine on our whole trip. Across the Sound of Gigha, the long sandy strand at Rhunahaorine Point on Kintyre became illuminated by a beautiful warm glow, which contrasted with the dark shaded hills behind. Yet another pair of otters had just swum behind the skerry in the foreground bringing our tally for the day to well into the teens (there had been such a surfeit of otters that we lost count).

Then the sun made a flitting appearance on Cara. It was shining between the narrowest of gaps in the clouds and by the time...

 ...I turned it was already fading but I could still just see my long shadow fading into the sand. Ian was quicker and got some nice sunlight photos here.

Before it got dark we thought we had better nip up to Cara House and pay our respects to the Brownie. Cara House was built in 1733 by the Macdonalds of Largie for their tacksman. It was last used by a resident on Cara in the 1940's when the tenant farmer left. I have written 24 posts on Cara in the past and you can read them here. Despite the large windows the house is a grim looking place and makes a fitting residence for the troubled spirit of the Brownie.

The house has a third attic floor and it is within this that the Brownie has set up residence.

Immediately next to the house lie the remains of Cille Fionnlugh (St Finla's chapel). I have previously written about the mistaken location of St Fionnlugh's chapel but the...

...splayed inshot windows and floor measurements of this building match the description in the Old Statistical Account of Scotland (1793).

We returned to the beach to cook our evening meal (forward planning reserve rations) to make up for the lack of lobsters at the Boathouse. We then got the fire going. We had brought well seasoned logs but had also managed to scour driftwood from the beaches and reefs of Gigha and Gigalum. Then an hour after sunset a remarkable thing happened. The NW wind increased and as it did so the clouds began to clear. We were left with a night sky of stunning clarity. Seldom have we seen the Milky Way shine so brightly. Satellites moved steadily across the sky and meteors left long but short lived trails through the constellations. We had to move back as the wind whipped up the intensity of the flames. I now have a pair of trousers with crispy leg bottoms! Needless to say we baked sweet potatoes and toasted our good fortune with some Jura Origin malt whisky which originates from its home on Jura just on the other side of the Sound of Jura.

The log boat from Gigalum made its way slowly through the skerries.

 The SW coast of Gigha is a delight, offshore skerries and shallow waters with...

 ...a sandy and weed covered bottom create a marvellous environment to journey through.

Ian could not resist landing on a reef to get a little more height for getting photographs of the sea bed. Unfortunately there was still no sign of the sun which would have made his photographs zing!

 As we paddled south, back towards our temporary base on Cara...

 ...there was just a hint in the west that the sun might break through but...

 ...the gap in the clouds was only fleeting. Then...

 ...low grey clouds gathered in as both kayakers and the fishermen on OB595 (Blue Angel from Tarbert) were making their respective ways home. The Gigha community windmills were rotating steadily in a chilling NW breeze. We were glad that yesterday's T shits had been replaced by thermals and dry suits. Once on shore we knew it was going to be a cold night unless we could find some more firewood.

After leaving Gigha we had one further delight. With the haunting calls of curlews, the pip, pip, pipping of oystercatchers and the raucous croaking of a couple of squabbling herons ringing in our ears, we had yet another chance to paddle through the skerries at the...

...south end of Gigalum Island. I even managed to find...

...some decent bits of firewood within the rocky recesses of the skerries.

 From Gigalum Island the white shell sand beach below our camp was now just a kilometer away across the Sound of Cara. We landed just before 6pm. We had only covered 30.4km since leaving that morning but the circumnavigation of Gigha had proved to be full of interest. Although we may not have had the sun, we had enjoyed light winds and only the slightest of swells. This meant we had been able to explore some nooks and crannies on the exposed west coast that would have been all but impossible at most times of the year, never mind in October when the West coast of Scotland is normally blasted by equinoctial gales sweeping in from the Atlantic. On landing again on the shore of Cara, we did not forget to greet the Brownie in the proper and appropriate manner. On Cara one must take nothing for granted...