The folly of not bringing a trolley to Barlocco.

 Well laden with wood, we paddled out of Castle Haven under...

 ...the watchful yellow eye of the local heron.

 The sun was sinking fast, almost as fast as the sea level and...

 ...despite our best efforts the bar which connects Barlocco Isle to the mainland had dried. Our destination at Barlocco beach (the one with the fort folly) was 320m away on the other side. We could paddle 2.5km round Barlocco but the carry would still be 250m. A trolley would have been most beneficial but as I already knew there was little fire wood on the beaches, I had advised Ian and Mike to leave the trolleys and bring wood instead. In retrospect we should have brought one trolley and only two of us should have brought logs.

Anyway the retrospectoscope is a very powerful instrument so we had no choice but to get on with it. We left our bags of wood at the bar and carried the three kayaks up the beach. That was 1km of walking and 1km of carrying! We discovered that burning logs is not the only way to get warm. We just managed to beat...

 ...the sunset which was truly magnificent.

 The Solway skies really are wonderful whatever time of day...

...but this sunset was something special to behold.

My knees were absolutely killing me after the carry so I dropped my things and set up my tent just at the top of the beach beside the folly. The ground was not exactly level but my knees were done and I didn't care.

Ian and Mike found a much better camp site just 150m further on. Ian then very generously went back to recover the logs during the best bit of the sunset. I was particularly pleased about this as I just could not face a fourth trip back down the beach and back.

 While Ian was doing this I took some more photos with...

 ...his camera so that he would not miss out on photographs to help remember the wonderful Solway sunset by.

On his travels Ian had also found two very large logs which he rolled into place. One provided a back for the fire the other provided a seat. I used one of our ignition aids (bag of barbeque coals) and got the fire going with one match.

 As the giant star Arcturus slowly set in the west behind the Sun, we roasted sweet potatoes and Ian rushed off to replenish the supplies of Jura, which had run perilously low. My knees began to feel better and we chatted long into the night. On the far side of Wigton Bay the lights of the Machar's villages twinkled as meteors streaked and satellites cruised through the myriad of stars in the Milky Way above.

The sound of heavy guns and a mushroom cloud rising over the Solway.

As we turned to the west we left Little Ross Island and the sound of heavy gunfire at the Dundrennan Range far behind.

The dramatic cliffs, stacks and skerries of this stretch of coast make an amazing contrast to the sheltered wooded coastline, which we had just left in Kirkcudbright Bay.

 We were now sheltered from the north wind and the sun on the rocks made it feel almost balmy...

...though in the shade of the narrow passages it was already very cold. We came across...

...this lion rampant mimetolith as we emerged into the sunlight again.

More gunfire from the range accompanied our return to the open sea. Even though we were now some distance away, the reverberations of some particularly heavy rounds shook the channel walls and our chests.

Once clear of the cliffs at Fauldbog Bay we looked back to discover a huge mushroom cloud. What on earth were they firing?

 Beyond the boundaries of Brighouse Bay the breach...

 ....in the cliffs ended and the rocks reared up again.

  The wind swung round to the east and we benefited as it was no longer being broken up by the cliffs.

The wind assistance was most welcome as...

 ...we still had a long...

 ...long way to go. Once round Ringdoo Point we made for...

 ...Castle Haven Bay where we had left a stash of firewood.

The tide was dropping and the day was fading fast as we paddled into the bay. Our stash of firewood was actually a wooden pallet and we did not have long to demolish it. Ian broke the main timbers with a boulder before tackling the smaller pieces with a saw. I removed the nails so that they would not puncture our dry bags, which we attached to our back decks. The whole operation had taken just over 15 minutes but the bay had rapidly emptied. We really needed to press on. An 8m tide in the Solway goes out a long way...

Little Ross lighthouse, a lens and an alpine garden.

As we left Little Ross Island cottages and climbed towards the lighthouse we saw we were in line with the leading mark for vessels leaving Kirkcudbright Bay. Surprisingly this was not illuminated until 2005. The increasing number of scallop dredgers leaving Kirkcudbright at night was the reason. The white tower just visible on the mainland is a range control tower for the Dundrennan Firing Range.

Little Ross lighthouse was first lit on 1/1/1843. The light flashes white every five seconds. It was the first lighthouse in the world to have a catadioptric design, which meant that the beam was focussed with both lenses and mirrors. At the time the famous physicist Lord Kelvin ranked it (along with the lighthouses at Rhinns of Islay and Buchan Ness) as one of the top three lighthouses in the World.

In 2004 the original lens was helicoptered to Kirkcudbright Museum but it was so heavy that it was only this year that it has been displayed properly.

The arch over the doorway proclaims that Little Ross lighthouse was built...

...in 1842 by Robert Stevenson and Robert Hume.

This nice bronze identifier is more recent!

The lighthouse shares a courtyard with the keepers' cottages. There were normally three keepers but...

...at the time of the murder in 1960 there were just two temporary keepers because the light was about to be automated.

The present owners have fitted this door bell but no one was at home.

We rested for a short time in the lee of the buildings. The early morning sun was warm out of the chill wind. At our feet...

...the cobbled courtyard was a veritable garden of miniature alpine plants and lichens.

The owners of the cottages have a lovely kitchen.

From the lighthouse we had a clear view SW across Wigtown Bay to Burrow Head some 22km away and the village of Isle of Whithorn to its right.

We were going north however and in The Sound we could already see the start of the flood tide. It was time to go...

A rusty cock, mysterious symbols, dead heads, a high and dry ship and a shaded sundial on Little Ross Island.

On our way up to the lighthouse we passed Little Ross cottages. At one time the lighthouse keepers' families lived on the island and helped support themselves by farming.

The weather cock had rusted solid as there was a strong north wind blowing.

The row of cottages was built on a steep slope so although the walls were vertical, their tops sloped downhill.

The first cottage was used as a smithy.

The sandstone blocks to the side of the fireplace had symbols carved into them.

I have no idea what they mean.

We proceeded down the sloping "street" to the bottom house where the gate was...

...secured by this beautiful brass latch inscribed NL which I think might be short for Northern Lighthouses.

Once through the gate we entered the former vegetable garden which the island's current owners now keep as a mixed garden. These thistles were just past flowering but...

...their seed heads were very decorative,

The lighthouse towers above the walls which shelter the allotment.

The owners have built a summerhouse on a boat shaped deck. Ian enjoyed a moment on the bow but this boat wasn't going to hit any icebergs.

It truly is a beautiful spot and the ship summer house has...

...a lovely view. On leaving we were careful to secure the door against any coming storms.

This old sundial was more decorative than functional as it was still in deep shade. Maybe its owner was a late riser?