56.9 degrees North, the coral sands and the green lagoon of Arisaig.

We now entered the calm water inside the Arisaig skerries. The flood tide was now pushing us in augmenting the pull of the sails.

We decided to stop for third luncheon on a little tidal beach of coral sand on Eilean an Fhraoich Beag, which had a view over...

 ...the lagoon to Luinga Mhor.

The coral is made up of the  bleached skeletons of the red algae, Lithothamnium calcareum.

It did not take long to get the stoves and flasks out.

 Then we were off  again, threading through the maze of skerries and the...

...crystal clear, green waters of the Arisaig lagoon.

A cold, grey winter day round the Arisaig skerries.

After hugging the Arisaig shore to get out of the cold SE wind we  paddled out round...

...Eilean Ighe before...

...crossing the North Channel of Loch Nan Ceall. We passed Fraoch Geal (White Heather) CY67 as she was lifting her pots.

We now entered the maze of the Arisaig skerries and promptly stopped on a white shell sand beach on Luinga Beag for a quick second luncheon before paddling on...

...past basking seals towards the...

...open sea through a narrow channel on Luinga Mhor.

We now enjoyed a bouncy ride round the outside of Luinga Mhor. The 5D mk3 stayed firmly in its bag! The extreme wide angle of the GoPro camera tends to flatten the sea. Fortunately Ian (in the kayak behind me) managed to...

Photo by Ian Johnstone

...get this shot which gives a better idea of the conditions!

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.

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

From the south channel at the entrance to Loch nan Ceall I thought it would be a good idea to head south along the headland of Rubh Arisaig  towards the Sound of Arisaig. Donald checked his map for suitable landing spots and reefs on the way.

I was able to nip inside the various reefs in my sea kayak but Donald had to take a wider line.

We had arranged to rendezvous at Port nan Murrach on the Arisaig peninsula.

It wasn't long before Donald joined me in this delightful cove...

 ...with white sand and crystal clear waters.

Squalls of wind and rain were blasting down from the north but fortunately this one missed us and plastered Eigg instead.

Donald scrambled up the rocks of the surrounding ridges to see what the wind was doing...

 ...away to the north.

Meanwhile I reaquainted myself with the colony of the  rare northern colletes mining bees. These are a solitary species but they make their single burrows in aggregates in the sandy machair. They are a threatened species and there are only a handful of locations on the Scottish mainland where they can still be found.

I was distressed to discover some recent visitors had built a fire right on top of the colony. I hope it was not a group of sea kayakers, most kayakers know to build fires below the high water mark.

While Donald continued to explore the ridges and other beaches in the area, I was content to sit on the rocks with a cup of coffee, admire the view and...

...the marvellous white shell sand. I am so grateful for sea kayaking. I could not have walked to such a wonderful spot.

It was clear Donald's boat handling skills and confidence had grown, so when he returned, I suggested we move on and cross the mouth of the Sound of Arisaig to another white shell sand beach in the distance. I did warn him it might get a bit bumpy, once we were out of the lee of Rubh Arisaig...

sea kayak photo delphin

Even when the sun is not shining, the Arisaig skerries at the mouth of Loch nan Ceall is a remarkable place. The dark rocks and seaweed are...

...interspersed with dazzling shell sand beaches. At low tide the skerries are high above the narrow channels and lagoons but even so...

...the peaks of the Rum Cuillin and...

...the Sgurr of Eigg dominate the scene.

The skerries are also home to large colonies of both common and grey seals. Interestingly Donald's motor boat got right up to them and I could sail very close but as soon as I started to paddle, they would slide into the water...

...and follow me, as seen in this photo from Donald's blog.

The coral island of Loch nan Ceall, Arisaig

We continued on our way through the skerries of Loch nan Ceall as the wind began to pick up.


We came across another island and took a further break.


Photo JLW

The whole beach was composed of coral sand.


The "coral" is actually the bleached skeletons of the red algae, Lithothamnium calcareum.

14/09/2008

Midges and rain but no French gold in Loch nan Ceall

Seakayakphoto.com is delighted to welcome a new staff member. Alastair joined a sea kayaking trip in desperate search for fair weather despite an atrocious forecast. After a long drive to Loch nan Ceall near Arisaig, the mist was hanging low over the sea. It was the Scotch variety; a very fine but wetting rain and infested with midges. "We must be mad!" was the general consensus.


Once on the water it was slightly better, at least the midges had not followed us but the prospect of a sodden camp did not hold much attraction.


We paddled below a raised beach. The cliff behind was riddled with caves. We landed to explore an interesting one. In 1746 two French warships landed gold to support the Jacobite cause after their defeat at Culloden the year before. The Royal Navy blockaded the ships and some Frenchmen escaped with the gold on land. It was never found and is reputed to be hidden away in this area.


We climbed up to the cave. Its sheltering wall meant it was dry as a bone but despite a careful search no gold was found. We found some neatly carved graffiti from 1936 but nothing else. We had wondered about using the cave as a doss for the night but the smell of beasts was unappealing.


We paddled on under low clouds and rain but an occasional golden glow on the western horizon promised better...

13/09/2008

The Rum Cuillin and Bloodstone Hill

This is the view from the turquoise lagoon in the skerries at the mouth of Loch nan Ceal, Arisaig. The Cuillin of Rum are not so well known as their sisters on the misty isle of Skye but they have been attracting seafarers for thousands of years. Modern day Scottish sea kayakers know that one day they will paddle the wild shores of the Small Isles of the Inner Hebrides. The great arch in my recent post abuts onto Rum's remote north shore where Bloodstone Hill tumbles straight into the Sound of Canna. Bloodstone is one of the few rocks in Scotland which is good for making stone implements. It was also here that the sea eagle was reintroduced to Scotland.

Our ancestors have been visiting Rum for at least 7,500 years. A camp with a heap of hazel nut shells has been carbon dated to that time. Bloodstone arrow heads and axe heads have been found at great distances from the lonely isle of Rum. These people worked and traded bloodstone 3,000 years before the first stone was laid in an Egyptian pyramid.

At that time their boats were dug out canoes hewn from a single tree trunk. We modern kayakers paddle in the wakes of countless generations of skilled seafarers. It is humbling.