Are the raised beaches of West Loch Tarbert, Jura Slartibartfast's crowning achievement?

From Cairidh Mhor in Jura's West Loch Tarbert , Tony and I paddled west through the outer tidal rapids, the Cumain Mhor. A F4 easterly wind had got up (as forecast*) and together with the ebb tide accelerating through the narrows we went through at a fair lick. At the point the above photo was taken, I  had to suddenly divert to port as I was heading directly for a rock at 12km/hr. Just as the sail gybed over, the GoPro camera got knocked off by the rock but fortunately I always tie it on.

 We landed shortly afterwards at...

 ...what must be Slartibartfast's crowning achievement...

...it is one of Jura's most amazing raised beaches. Each year, for over 10,000 years, more and more of it is exposed as the land has slowly risen after the Ice Age ice sheet melted.

 Clean, sea worn pebbles and cobbles stretch upwards as far as the eye can see and at the summit...

This photo September 2009.

...the tide last went out 10,000 years ago. It has taken that long for these few patches of vegetation to establish.

It is at the summit of the beach that the largest cobbles are found. These have ancient colonies of lichens growing on them.

This photo September 2009.

The situation and scale of this beach makes it a unique feature of the British coastline.

The huge raised beach retains a fresh water loch, Lochan Maol an t-Sornaich, but despite the high rainfall in the area no visible river flows out of it.

Instead, innumerable springs like this one issue from its base and as the fresh water mingles with the salt water of West Loch Tarbert it creates swirling patterns of refracted light in the sea.

The ebb tide was still pouring out of the Cumain Mhor as we made our way back to the waiting  boats.

*The forecast wind was why we were here in the shelter of West Loch Tarbert. Our original plan for this time during the trip was to be crossing the west end of the Corryvreckan, to the north of Jura. This would have held less appeal given the force 4 gusting 6 easterly wind, see below...!

This is approaching the west end of the Gulf of Corryvreckan from the north in August 2008. Jura is straight ahead. It is the last hour of the west going flood tide (travelling at 8 knots left to right) and the F4 easterly wind is blowing with the tide. We are in the calm waters of an east going eddy (also 8 knots). It is quite a committing place!

A fishless lunch on Eileach an Naoimh

We slipped through a gap in the reefs through to the SE side of the Garvellachs. I fell behind the others to drop a mackerel line over the side. I very quickly caught a good sized one but when I pulled it in it was just a head! It had been very neatly bitten off at the gills by a seal that was following us. I gave up on the idea of mackerel for lunch. :o(


The magnificent Paps of Jura dominated the horizon to the south...


...while we made our way past the barnacle encrusted reef of Sgeir Leth a' Chuain towards the sloping SE side of Eileach an Naoimh... the rocky isle of the Saint.


We passed under the Clochain, a pair of ancient beehive cells where monks from the monastery retreated to pray.


From the landing spot, we climbed up to a little platform beside the monastery, which had a great view over to the Gulf of Corryvreckan, which lies between Scarba and Jura. Even from this distance we could see the swell breaking on the exposed SW coast of Scarba.


The view to the south towards the Paps of Jura showed that the monks must have enjoyed the scenery while meditating.


We too attempted to meditate, while enjoying our fish-less lunch. However, we were subjected to a most ferocious midge attack in the midday sun. Don't these midges play by the rules? Either monks were very thick skinned or the beehive cells were midge proof. If they were stuck in these windowless cells for months on end, maybe they didn't enjoy the view after all!

A Corryvreckan eddy.

We waited at the SE entrance to the Corryvreckan for 1.5hours after slack water, to let the east going ebb tide build up a little bit. We then launched into a counter eddy, which took us back west at 10.8km/hr into the Corryvreckan again.

We were passed by a west going yacht, motoring at full belt on top of the 10.8km/hr of the eddy. It was really nice to see its single handed skipper displaying such a confident knowledge of these tricky waters. We exchanged waves of mutual respect!


Tony and I then broke out into the main ebb. The eddy line was rather stimulating and then, out in the main current, huge boils, 150m across, erupted on the surface from the depths below. However, there was not a breath of wind and the surface of the Corryvreckan remained surprisingly calm. Even a light wind can turn these waters into somewhere very unpleasant. We were entertained by some porpoises feeding on confused fish.


After spending some time in the eddy, Jennifer and Phil came out to join Tony and I. It was their first trip into the Corryvereckan other than at slack water.


Once we were all in the main ebb, we found ourselves "drifting" along at only 14km/hr!


All too soon, we were ejected from the Corryvreckan. This is Phil's "Been there, done that." photo!


This was our track through and across the Corryvreckan from west to east. Slack, before the east going ebb, was predicted at 16:00, it was 3 days after neaps. We entered the west end of the Corryvreckan at 15:38, passed 180m SW of the pinnacle over which the whirlpools form at 15:52. at 16:01 the sea went glassy calm indicating slack water. (Note: tidal predictions here are very dependent on air pressure and are only reasonably accurate in the middle of a high pressure system.) We landed at Port nam Furm, at the SE entrance to the Corryvreckan, at 16:18. We relaunched at 17:18 into the west going eddy and finally left the Corryvreckan at 17:46, an hour and 46 minutes after slack water.


Don't be fooled by the calm conditions we encountered in the Corryvreckan on this current trip. This photo with a little wind shows the Corryvreckan in a much more serious mood.

Waiting for the ebb in the Corryvreckan.

We entered the great gulf of Corryvreckan just before slack water. There was no swell and we had never seen the SW of Scarba in such calm conditions.


Jennifer tried to look under the water to see if she could see the Old Hag that stirs the Corryvreckan but the witch must have been scared of Jennifer's goldfish hat.


Even at slack water there was some stirring as we paddled over the submarine pinnacle that throws up the "whirlpool".


Even Phil had found the whole experience somewhat anticlimactic, so we decided to stop for an evening meal...


...on a lovely cobbled beach on the NE tip of Jura.


We had a grandstand view of the Corryvreckan as we consumed our victuals and washed them down with a fine malt or two. We would now wait until the ebb had built up sufficiently for a little fun...

A hidden lagoon in the Sound of Jura.

From the Dorus Mor we paddled towards Coiresa with some difficulty.


The current was carrying us inexorably straight towards the Corryvreckan.


Eventually we broke out of the flood and an eddy carried us up the SE of Coiresa towards Reisa Mhic Phaidean and into the lagoon between the two islands.


The lagoon was a magical place, its clear waters were full of little fish and its bottom was studded with starfish. The flood was pouring out its NW entrance. We dallied for some time, ferry gliding back and forwards, breaking in and out of eddies and enjoying the sensation of holding ground against moving water.


Once we had cleared the islands we found ourselves in another flood stream, which carried us NE up the Sound of Jura and away from the Corryvreckan.

A trinity of tideraces: circumnavigation of Scarba

Circumnavigation of Scarba: a day trip of 38.5km from Crinan, October 2009.


We rush to pull the kayaks out of the clutch of the sucking white tendrils of the Corryvreckan whirlpool!

The seakayakphoto.com school of sea kayaking: lesson one, paddling in a current.

Crossing the Rubicon in the Dorus Mor

A whiter shade of pale in the Sound of Jura

Pool of the Song in the Sound of Luing

Sleeping Grey Dogs

Friends to watch over you

Free fall on Scarba

Menace hung in the windless air, even for the most daring and venturesome.

Showdown with a goat in the Corryvreckan!

Calculating slack water in the Corryvreckan

The mystery of the goats of Reisa an t-Sruith

Back for more in the Dorus Mor!

End of another Glorious Dorus Day

Crinan's pyroligneous past.

The mystery of the goats of Reisa an t-Sruith

We now were on a course back to the Dorus Mor and Crinan but first we had to clear the north end of tiny Reisa an t-Sruith. Its name means something like the race of the torrent.


Initially we were carried north but very quickly the ebb started carrying us south and we just scraped past its north end under the eye of watchful goats. How they got out here I can't imagine. Either goats are very powerful swimmers with a built in ability to understand tides and ferry angles or they were brought by man. I can understand sheep being left on small islands until they grow for market, but goats?


Overhead, these pink footed geese seemed to know where they were going.
They will recently have arrived from their summer grounds in Spitsbergen Iceland or Greenland. If they get the weather right it does not take them long. This year a mute swan with a GPS tracker took 14 hours to cover 800km from Iceland to Scotland.


Rounding the top of Reisa an t-Sruith, we took a quick look back at the Gulf of Corryvreckan before we were swept onwards to the Dorus Mor.

Calculating slack water in the Corryvreckan

I am currently writing a sea kayaking guidebook book for Pesda Press "Argyll and the South West, Ardnamuchan to the Solway Firth by Sea Kayak. (ISBN 978-1-906095). This is one of the most complex areas of the UK coastline and I am determined that it will be a piece of work which is thoroughly researched, both in terms of previously published information and also of first hand experience.

I think I am pushing the good will of Franco, the publisher, but I do not want to rush a guide based on my experience of a piece of coastline on one trip, one way, in one set of weather conditions. The Corryvreckan is an example of a serious bit of coast, a key point in the planning of any voyage in these parts. If you click the Corryvreckan tag link on the right, you will discover that we have passed through this Gulf E/W both ways, along both coasts, crossed it N/S both ways, at a variety of states of tide and in a variety of wind and swell conditions. We have camped on both its north and south shores and climbed into the hills of Scarba and Jura to photograph the various eddies and over falls.

For those of you who are interested in such a sea kayaking guide, I appreciate your patience, thank you.

According to published data, in the Corryvreckan, the west going flood starts at -0100 Dover springs and -0015 at neaps. The east going ebb starts at +0515 Dover springs and +0600 at neaps, a time difference of about 6.5 minutes per day between springs and neaps.

On the 16th October 2009 it was 2 days after springs, HW Dover occurred at 1025 and 2256, so the slack between the east going ebb and the west going flood should occur at -0047 HW Dover ie 0938 and the slack between the west going flood and east going ebb should occur at +0528 HW Dover ie 1553.

We entered the west end of the Corryvreckan at 1446 and landed at Camas nam Bairneach at 1500. We enjoyed a view of the flood in action and a short luncheon but were keen to be on the water, in mid channel, to observe the exact moment of slack water. We launched again at 1525.


Phil powering into the last of the flood at 1530. The current was still flowing west at 2.5kn.


At 1539 several yachts entered the Corryvreckan. At 1544, in mid channel, the current was still flowing west at 2kn (see map below).


Then at 1549, with the soaring ridges of Ben Cruachan in the distance,...


...the water turned oily calm and slack water had arrived. It lasted a whole 5 minutes until the ebb started with a bang and boils and eddy lines disturbed the surface again. In the distance, you can just see the small lighthouse on Reisa an t-Sruith in front of Tony's bow.


So the published start of the flood was calculated at 1553 and we observed slack water between 1549 and 1554. Pretty good Eh?

Well, err, actually no. There was no wind and we were in a high pressure system with preceding light winds and little swell. There are very many factors that can alter the change of tide in these parts and you need to go prepared to observe what you find on the day (and of course to have checked your calculations).

Thank you for your patience while I get the book right... :o)

Showdown with a goat in the Corryvreckan!

We entered the Corryvreckan in somewhat calmer circumstances than our last visit. Even in windless conditions the flood was bubbling and boiling like a witch's cauldron. The sight and sound of such a huge volume of water rushing by at 18km/hour was quite moving, in fact Phil later described it as a buttock clenching experience.


We took the counter eddy (that runs east along the south shore of Scarba) right into the heart of the Corryvreckan until we came to the headland before Camus nam Bairneach. The eddy ended at a small headland and swung out into the main flow where it joined the rotating mass of water which forms the whirlpool. I said “Phil you need to get round this headland so paddle quite hard and don’t look back.”


The best chart for discovering the various eddies is the 1856 Admiralty chart.


The headland is in the bottom middle of this photo taken from high on the slopes of Scarba. Here the eddy (calmer water in lower right in the photo) swings out into the main flood (which is flowing to the right) where it joins in a great swirl that creates the whirlpools of the Corryvreckan. To get round this headland into the shelter of the bay you do need to paddle quite hard for 150 metres. If you can't PLF and get round the headland, you are in for a very special treat. The eddy will carry you right into the whirlpool and the Great Race beyond, so you can get a really close look at this natural wonder. Make the most of this experience but just don't expect to be able to share it with others afterwards.


We got round the headland and landed in a little bay to wait for the flood to ease off. We took this territorial goat by surprise, it clearly was not used to having its privacy invaded during the flood! The smelly brute squared up to us and stood his ground but his harem of females all ran off up the hill. Ultimately he found them more attractive than a confrontation with us and he made a measured retreat.


We had to drag the boats well up the beach...


...as seething surges of tidal water threatened to whisk them away into the jaws of the ‘vreckan.


Tony took some photos from the headland, which we had recently fought our way round.


This is the Corryvrekan on a windless day. In a westerly gale the standing waves reach 5m in height and can be heard in Crinan 13km away. Fortunately for Phil, this is just about as calm as it gets.


While Tony was taking photos, Phil was content to sit and gaze in wonder. I think he was still a bit shaken after our confrontation with a goat!

P.S. Please remember that the Corryvreckan is a very large and serious tide race. It is in a remote location and, if you do get into trouble, it will carry you straight out into the open Atlantic for 5 miles before the Great Race subsides. Mike Murray knows a great deal of the Corryvreckan and how unpredictable it can be. A visit to his website should leave you under no illusions about the seriousness of this paddle. Another website well worth a visit is David Philip's Hebridean Wild. His gallery contains many photos of the Corryvreckan such as this one, which is enough to send a chill through any kayaker's heart.

John F asks: "Okay, so how bad would it be if one were swept through the whirlpool? If you had to hang on to your boat, do you think you could keep your head above water? Don't know if I want to find out, first hand."

Well John, a recent TV documentary about the Corryvreckan called Lethal Seas featured an interesting experiment. A weighted dummy wearing a life jacket was dumped into the sea just before the Corryvreckan whirlpool. It disappeared within moments. It was recovered several miles out to sea half an hour later. A dive meter showed that it had been down to at least 200m and the dummy's life jacket had gravel in its pockets and straps.