The finishing bell at the end of the round, in Loch Ailort.

Beyond the narrows in Loch Ailort we paddled directly below the steep slopes of Roshven (Rois-Bheinn 878m). The clouds had started to gather again and the wind became increasingly gusty culminating...

 ...in some heavy downpours...

 ...that swept through the wild Highland landscape of the loch before...

 

...the wind died away and...

 ...the mountain sides were dappled by an occasional blink of sun. Despite it being well past local low water, the tide was still ebbing strongly through the Eilean Dubh islands.

At last the public slipway and pier at the head of Loch Ailort came into view. Our near complete circumnavigation of the lands of Moidard was nearly over but there was a final sting in the tail...

 ...It was spring low water on one of the biggest tides of the year. The slipway was high and dry so we...

 ...had to manhandle the boats up onto the slip.

Then it was with some sadness that we unpacked our things after a fantastic winter trip and ran the shuttle. For those contemplating a similar trip it is only a 16km shuttle from Inverailort to Glenfinnan. If you only have one car you can even get the train from Lochailort to Glenfinnan!

It had taken just 46 hours to paddle the 64 kilometres from Glenfinnan to Inverailort through some of the most dramatic and historic Highland scenery. We had paddled on fresh water and salt water and had even dragged our kayaks one kilometre over land. We had camped under the stars and stayed in the excellent Glenuig Inn. We had even rung the thousand year old St Finan's Bell! To cap all that we had enjoyed excellent company. You can read Ian's account of our trip which ends here.

BUT our trip was not over yet, we had decided to stay for two nights at the Glenuig Inn! We had another day to spend in this wonderful area...

Paddle sailing wind over tide in Loch Ailort.

After our eclipse luncheon it was time to set off on the last leg of our journey round the lands of Moidart. Ian did a much better job of launching than I did, I filled mine up with water. Unfortunately for Ian he got his sail tangled and I managed to get my boat pumped out while he made a brief stop in the next bay to sort it out.

 It was really worth having the sails because it was one of the biggest spring tides of the year (eclipse might have had something to do with that!) and the ebb was pouring out of Loch Ailort like a river.

 Fortunately we got some respite from the tide in the bays and...

 ...made good time past Peanmeanach bothy but

...as the mountains closed in and the loch narrowed, the tide increased again.

 We noticed some nice active water so decided to pass on the outside of...

Photo by Ian Johnston

...Eilean a Bhuic to make the most of it. Once we were past...

the island, the view back across the wind over tide waves was really rather fine!

An eclipse luncheon on the white sands of Ardnish!

Having got a photo of the eclipse. I set off to catch up with the others who were making their way into Loch Ailort past the north end of Eilean nan Gobhar. Because I had the sail up, I soon caught them as they were paddling hard...

 ...against the tide that was pouring out between the gap between and Eilean nan Gobhar and Eilean a' Chaolais. A solar eclipse, when the sun and moon are aligned, mean a very big spring tide is generated! As we got nearer Eilean a' Chaolais the conditions increased in lumpiness so there was no chance of getting the camera out!

Once inside the loch the tide races were restricted to narrow channels and most of the loch was pretty flat. Annoyingly the thick cloud that had so effectively obscured the eclipse now...

 ...began to lift and there was nearly full sun as we approached the delightful tidal beach to the east of Port na h-Aifrinne.

We pulled the boats clear of the swell then...

...made our way up...

...this glorious beach to the...

 ...rocks at its head. What a great place to welcome the return of the sun...

 ...it was time to celebrate with an eclipse luncheon! We don't have many of  these so...

 ...the cameras came out to record...

...the pouring of a celebratory dram in thanks for the return of the sun, which was now casting a strong shadow on the light sands of Ardnish.

The whisky went very well with our luncheon of tortilla bread, Edam cheese, humus, chillies, green olives and black grapes.

Slàinte mhòr, may we all enjoy great health until the next solar eclipse!

Solar pyrotechnics at Loch Ailort

Back in March, my joints were doing better than now so I took a long drive from Glasgow on the Road to the Isles. I was due to meet Ian for a sea kayaking trip in a brief weather window before the worst snows of the year arrived. When I reached Loch Ailort, the sun dropped beneath the veil of cloud that had hid it from sight on the long road north. I could not help...

 ...but stop the car beneath the steep slopes of Rois-Beinn and get the camera out.

I had only just restarted the car when I had to stop again. This time it was the unmistakable silhouette of Eigg and Rum over the Sound of Arisaig.

To the east the lower slopes of Rois-Beinn were illuminated by the low sun but the upper slopes were in the shadow of the low clouds.

 The sunset was really building up...

 ...beyond the Small Isles.

 The dying sun put up an incredible display and I had to force myself to turn round...

 ...to appreciate the golden light that was illuminating the far shore of...

 ...Loch Ailort.

At last the sun went down and I continued to the welcoming lights of the Glenuig Inn where I arrived just a few minutes before Ian. We were already looking forward to large plates of Mallaig prawns.0

Sea kayaking The Sound of Arisaig and Loch Moidart.

A 64km two day trip from north of Arisaig exploring Loch nan Ceall, the Sound of Arisaig and Loch Moidart, August 2011.

 The Cuillin of Skye from the Arisaig Skerries at the mouth of Loch nan Ceall.

Loch Ailort in the Sound of Arisaig.

Castle Tiorum in Loch Moidart.

Thank goodness for sea kayaking!

The ejaculating spoots of Arisaig.


Sea kayaking the Arisaig skerries


The plight of the sand bees on the machair at Port nam Murrach.


A bumpy crossing of the Sound of Arisaig.


High and dry at day's end in Moidart


Going to work on an Eigg but treading carefully.


Noisy children banished in Loch Moidart.


The islands and channels of inner Loch Moidart


Gracious living in Loch Moidart...but bring your own cook!


Sea kayaking to Shoe Bay, Eilean Shona.


Walking on broken glass, in Moidart paradise.


Limping Inn to Glenuig, a pub too far!


Little and large houses by the shores of Loch Ailort.


Blood on the rocks of Loch Ailort.


Seakayaking through the Borrodale Isles.


Wilderness lost and found in Arisaig.

To see this trip from another perspective have a look at my brother Donald's blog.

Blood on the rocks of Loch Ailort

Photo Donald Wilcox

Donald and I had been crossing the mouth of Loch Ailort with the intention of taking a luncheon on one of the beaches on the Ardnish peninsula. However, my knee was now causing so much pain that I was desperate to get out the kayak and stretch my legs, never mind check the dressing on my recently lacerated toe. I spotted this lovely strand of sand on the delightful little Eilean a' Chaolais and called Donald over. We had found another corner of paradise. 

The rock pools were filled with crystal clear water and we had the beach to ourselves apart from...

...this starfish. This beach is covered at high water so we were fortunate to pass when we did.

We were surrounded by the silence and beauty of this huge landscape.

Once we had eaten our lunch Donald returned to his boat...

 ...to fix his flooded engine while...

...I sat on the lichen covered rocks and changed the blood soaked bandages on my right foot. These lichen colonies are probably several hundred years old. They were probably here when Bonny Prince Charlie landed nearby and raised his standard at the start of the Jacobite Rebellion in 1745. After initial success he was defeated at Culloden near Inverness. This was the last pitched battle of two land armies on British soil and resulted in much bloodshed and loss of life. The Highlands were never the same again.

Some (quite a few actually) drops of my bright red blood spilled onto the rocks and added their own colour to that of the rich orange and gold lichen. I may have left a bit of myself  in paradise but in turn, this paradise was now etched indelibly on my brain. We who live in Scotland are so fortunate to be surrounded by such natural beauty, sometimes we just don't appreciate the extent of our birthright.