Twenty six dogs' bollocks but only twelve holes at Blackwaterfoot.

 From Blackwaterfoot harbour we paddled to the Blackwaterfoot dog exercise area.

No sooner had we landed than we were investigated  by a number of hungry canines. After his experience with the "hoody" crow of Whiting Bay, Mike had learned his lesson and firmly battened down his hatches.

We found some very comfortable seats on a basalt dyke. At one point I counted 26 dogs at various points along the beach, quite a few of the dogs put their noses in our blue IKEA bags sniffing for food but we managed to prepare a quick...

...luncheon during a doggy lull. Though no sooner had we prepared our wraps of humous and cheese than slavering hounds were eyeing us up waiting to be fed.

 It was rather pleasant sitting on the rocks . The NE wind was straight offshore and we were well sheltered by the sand dunes of the...

...beautiful Shiskine Golf Course, which is squeezed between the Doon and the sea. It is one of very few golf courses in the World which has 12 holes.

I took this photo from the top of The Doon in April 2011. It shows our destination for the day, Imachar Point in the distance. It was still 13km away straight into the teeth of the wind.

Refreshed by our rest, we set off across the calm clear and shallow sea towards Drumadoon Point. We did not expect calm once round the point.

PS for the bollock count,  I am assuming that half the dogs were male and that they were intact.

Preaching to the converted in Blackwaterfoot Harbour.

 From Corriecravie we came to Aird nan Ron (Seal Point) and true to its name, the point was a haven for common seals.

  At the next headland, Kilpatrick Point we passed the Preaching Cave in the low cliffs behind the shore. The only sermon we heard were a few singing common seals.

Leaving the hamlet of Kilpatrick we set off across...

...Drumadoon Bay towards the...

 ...village of Blackwaterfoot.

The sands of the village beach are backed by The Doon, a dramatic basalt sill which once had an extensive Iron Age settlement perched on its summit.

Nowadays the settlement of Blackwaterfoot is at sea level and clusters round a tiny harbour at the mouth of....

 ...the Clauchan Water. I explored this waterfall which is the limit of navigation as the local bus rumbled over the bridge.

As we paddled round the little harbour, the family in the VW camper from the camp site gave us a big wave. I think they were surprised we had arrived in Blackwaterfoot before them! From the sea it would be all too easy to miss this tiny harbour. It is worth keeping your eyes open, fortunately I did not have to persuade either Ian or Mike to take a detour. Neither of them are headland to headland types either.

Spinning a story of Corriecravie, Arran, the land of my ancestors.

 From Cleats Shore we lost our tail wind and...

 ...gradually hit more of a headwind as we paddled along...

 ... the shore near Sliddery Waterfoot.

Photo by Ian Johnston.

It was a relief to take a breather near Corriecravie. Ian took this photo of me looking at the land which my ancestors once farmed.

Since at least 1710, when my great great great great great great grandfather  Robert Black was born, the Black branch of the family were crofters in Corriecravie until 1936. The last known Black to be resident in Rowanpark croft, Corriecravie was my great grandfather's (John Black 1854-1929) nephew Robert (Bertie) Black but he was not contactable there in 1972 following my grandfather's sister's (Catherine Black) death.

Initially the family worked common land but when the Duke of Hamilton enclosed the land in the early years of the 19th century, Robert's son William became tenant farmer of approximately 24 acres. The croft extended to the boundaries of  the green fields above the white houses in this photo. 

In 1813 a wave of religious awakening passed over the people of south Arran and William's son Robert was one of those who came under its influence. After William's death in 1824, Robert neglected his farm and attended too many religious meetings. He was fined one guinea by the Estate Factor for failing to improve the land as required by his tenancy agreement. By the 1841 Census, his two sisters Mary and Isabella had taken over running half the croft but by the 1861 census Mary had died and Isabella had given up her half of the croft, which Robert then sublet to Mr John Stewart.

After Robert Black's death in 1862, the croft was taken over by my great great  grandfather Finlay Black, (1820 to 1876). This photo, taken shortly before his death, shows him with his wife Catherine (nee Stewart, 1831 to 1903) in their croft house at Rowanpark, Corricravie. Catherine was the daughter of the Black's sub tenant William Stewart. They married in 1853 and had six children. The croft had a thatched roof and a stone floor. The spinning wheel in the photo has been passed through several generations of female members of the family and is now in possession of my cousin. It is mentioned specifically in the wills of my great grandmother and great aunt.

In 1868, some years after Finlay Black inherited the croft, he and his father in law, William Stewart, decided to formally split the croft into two parts. This was done by arrangement with James Paterson, the Duke of Hamilton's Factor and Dugald Crawford the Ground Officer. Interestingly, both my ancestors, Finlay Black and William Stewart (my brother's middle name is Stewart) can be found in a Google search! They were both fluent speakers of Arran Gaelic and were consulted by the Ordnance Survey on local place names.

As we  paddled on up the Kilbrannan Sound from Corriecravie I had much to ponder upon. It must have been a hard working life in Corriecravie and I was glad to be visiting in leisure time. I look forward to showing my grandson this place as he is 10 generations away from the Robert Black who was born in 1710. It is nice to put family history in context with places.

Generations of geology students have swarmed over his unconformity on the way to the Cock of Arran,.

We made our way out of Loch Ranza and turned north along...

...the Newton shore where we chose to stop for second breakfast near the site of a considerable nonconformity.

Just below the wreck of this old boat (which has seen better days) lies an interesting geological feature,.It attracted the interest of the 18th century Scottish geologist James Hutton. He observed dipping old metamorphic rocks which were immediately overlain by gently sloping layers of much younger sedimentary rocks. There was no evidence of any intermediary rocks between the layers despite them being separated by 160 million years. Hutton used this unconformity to deduce that the underlying metamorphic rock had been created, metamorphosed, (altered by great forces) then uplifted and eroded before the later sedimentary rocks were overlain. Lastly, the two layers were then further uplifted then eroded to expose their junction on what is now Newton shore. He deduced from all this that the World was much older than had been previously thought.

Generations of geology students have followed Hutton to swarm all over his unconformity.

Leaving the unnconformity we passed the Fairy Glen on our way north.

This rock pippit was hopping between great...

...priapic boulders of conglomerate...

... which lay on the old red sandstone of the Cock of Arran.

For the full StereoVision experience read Ian's account here.

Forty minutes in the natural theatre of the Kilbrannan Sound.

In the middle of the Kilbrannan Sound  the fog slowly began to clear and we could at last see which way we were going.

This guillemot seemed surprised to see us at it emerged from a thick patch of fog but it not been responsible for the haunting calls that came from an undefinable direction in the mist. Those had come from an unseen diver.

 Slowly the mountains of Arran began no emerge from the fog and we could...

...identify the hills to the south of Catacol.

 We now experienced one of the most wondrous sights we have ever experienced while crossing to Arran.
Slowly the small gap in the fog opened revealing clear blue sky to the south.

  It was as if a celestial zipper was being undone as the fog...

 ...steadily pulled back revealing....

 ...more and more of the...

 ...mountainous west Arran coast.

As we were paddling at about the same speed and direction as the receding edge of the fog, it was like being in a day of two halves and we were on the dividing line.

 At first we continued paddling in the shade but ever so slowly the edge of the fog...

 ...pulled away in front leaving us...

in full sun. We were speechless with wonder and appreciation of this natural show in the theatre of the Kilbrannan Sound. Any applause would have been both unnecessary and would have broken the spell that held us captivated on this unforgettable crossing. From the time that a peak first loomed out of a break in the fog, to when we finally entered full sunshine, this natural performance lasted for forty minutes. Those special forty minutes will last in our memories for ever.

For the full StereoVision experience see Ian's account here.

Disappearing breakfasts, otters, sharks and islands in the Kilbrannan Sound.

We awoke the following morning to low water. A feature of the Firth of Clyde is that spring tides tend to occur at midday and midnight.Arriving at a campsite in the early evening and leaving in early morning is therefore associated with LW and a long carry. Many of the "beaches" you see on Google Earth are only accessible at HW.

This is the long rocky gully we carried our boats up the previous night. It was taken with a telephoto lens so it is foreshortened and is longer than it looks.

A decent number of calories were required for our forthcoming labours. In case any one is concerned about any dietary imbalance, I consumed this lot in a whole meal wrap. Yum Yum!

Although the sun attempted to break through, a thick bank of fog rolled in. I just missed the otter in this photo but with the eye of...

...considerable faith I hope you can see the large basking shark through the fog!. I have never seen them in the Clyde so early.

After considerable humphing we set off from Rubh a na h-Airde Baine which roughly translated means "point of the pale high beach"
.

We set off across the Kilbrannan Sound but of the Isle of Arran, which is...

surprisingly large, there was not a sign!