Misty Morven morning.

We awoke on a comfortable meadow of grass by the shores of Loch Drumbuie.

A light breeze meant that there was not a single midge to disturb the morning.

There are two kayaking schools. Those that carry their kayaks right up to the tent, regardless how far the tent is from the shore, and those that abandon their kayaks just above the high water mark. We are definitely in the second school.

I love misty mornings on the Scottish west coast...

...especially when the mist is moving and alternately hiding and revealing the mountains.

The mist alters the scale of the landscape and adds a sense of mystery.  Our route would take us through the narrow mouth of Loch Drumbuie and out into Loch Sunart under the summit of Ben Hiant which floated above a sea of mist.

A banquet in Loch Drumbuie!

We had now left the Sound of Mull and were paddling east into Loch Sunart. From a line between Ardnamurchan Point to Mull, Loch Sunart winds for 45 km, deep into the heart of the west coast of Scotland. It forms the northern boundary of the Morvern peninsula.

Mist was gathering over the Ardnamurchan hills at sunset.

We landed at several little bays on the south shore of Loch Sunart but all were backed by bog or great mounds of tussocky grass and entirely unsuitable for a comfortable night's sleep. In truth, I was not really expecting to be able to camp on the shore of Loch Sunart. I had explored it at leisure on previous visits and had indeed chosen not to camp at Auliston Point before. I also had the security of a midge jacket... I knew of a lovely flat grassy meadow deep within the confines of Loch na Droma Buidhe (Loch Drumbuie) which in Gaelic is Loch of the yellow ridge. There was some dissension in the ranks, as we still had about 5km paddling from Aulistion Point. However, since both David and Phil had been equally unwilling to stop at Auliston there was little more than some grumbling and that was mostly from our stomachs due to the inadequate size of our "large" fish suppers.

We entered the narrow channel at the west end  of Loch Drumbuie to find ourselves in a windless paradise at sunset.

A paradise for midges that is, and we were first second and third courses of their banquet! At least David and I had our midge jackets! Poor Phil fully suffered one of the most savage attacks I have ever encountered! Then I remembered I had a spare midge hood, stashed away at the bottom of my emergency bag. Phil's relief was wonderful. We pitched the tents in near darkness then a remarkable thing happened. The midges disappeared with the last light! We had brought a sack of logs and soon had a fire going on the beach. We cooked our evening meal by the crackling logs and under the twinkling stars. Paradise indeed.

A barren point and fateful decision.

We set off from Tobermory, past the RNLI Severn class lifeboat Elizabeth Fairlie Ramsay, to cross the Sound of Mull for the second time that day. We were bound for Auliston Point, the NW tip of Morvern.

Rubha nan Gall lighthouse stands at the  NW entrance to the Sound of Mull with the Ardnamurchan peninsula behind.The lighthouse was built in 1857 by David and Thomas Stevenson. It flashes once every three seconds and was automated in 1960.

I hoped to camp at Auliston Point, perhaps on its summit where the breeze would keep the midges away.

 The sun was now setting quickly, behind Ardnamurchan Point with the open sea behind.

We pressed on in the hope of getting the tents up in daylight.

However, after the creature comforts of Tobermory, David and Phil thought Auliston Point a somewhat barrenlooking place for gentlemen sea kayakers to camp at. We now left the Sound of Mull and paddled into Loch Sunart and the approaching night. They would soon learn the error of their ways....

A series of juxtapositions in the Sound of Mull.

North of Lochaline, the coastline of Morvern becomes much gentler  and is backed by large forestry plantations. It was to here the the last few St Kildans were evacuated in 1930. Those that were able worked in the forests. what a juxtaposition a St Kildan in a forest in Morvern! They had come from an island with no trees!

We found Fiunary boathouse in a little inlet beside Rhubha na h-Airde Luach. It was built about 1820. The air was fragrant with the juxtaposition of two scents: the sweetness of the white hawthorn blossom and the coconut like scent of the yellow gorse.

We continued through a series of rocky skerries...

...but on the other side of the Sound of Mull, the island of Mull began to draw our attention.

Ben More at  966m (3169 feet) is the most southerly island Munro (mountain >3000 feet)  in Scotland. One of the great joys of paddling in west Scotland is the juxtaposition of mountain and loch.

Talking of juxtapositions; paddle, diesel and sail, who has right of way?

The final juxtaposition is the 17th century tower house of Caisteal nan Con (castle of the hounds), which was built on an Iron Age fortified mound.

Taking the Sound of Mull to the Next World.

The second day of our Morvern trip dawned still and calm but the peace of early morning (and our slumbers) was shattered...

...by the MV Clansman. She is the noisiest of the Calmac ferries at the best of times, as she burns the heaviest grade of fuel oil in her diesels. However, her crankshafts were just about to fail catastrophically and so the decibels this morning were deafening.

Unfortunately the racket had roused every midge in Morvern, as effectively as any luncheon bell. By now Phil was bitterly regretting his lack of protective attire. It is, after all, rather discomfiting to find that one's good self  is no longer top of the food chain.

It was with some relief that we found ourselves on the water and free from the local predators.

The Sound of Mull was like a full length mirror that wonderful morning...

...as it stretched away to near infinity, transporting us into another World.

The water of the Sound remained unruffled, until the flooding tide met with Ardtornish Point, which juts out from the Morvern coast. The modern lighthouse contrasts with the crumbling walls of Ardtornish Castle.

It was at Ardtornish that John of Isla, the first Lord of the Isles, died in about 1386. On the first stage of his journey into the Next World, his remains were carried away up the Sound of Mull by a fleet of birlins. Their destination was the distant and sacred Isle of  Iona. 

We paddled on in the wake of the Lords of the Isles.

Seakayakers, gypsies and bothy dwellers on Morvern.

This was a memorable trip that took place early in the month of June. Our aim was to circumnavigate the Morvern peninsula in western Scotland. It is very nearly an island being nearly surrounded by Loch Sunart to the north, the Sound of Mull to the Sw and Loch Linnhe to the SE. Only 11km of land lie between the head of Loch Sunart and Inversanda Bay on Loch Linnhe. We left a shuttle at the public slipway at Strontian. Phone the Community Moorings Committee  on the number on the noticeboard to say you would like to leave a car overnight. There is a Council "No Overnight Parking" notice to keep tavelling people and campervans away but an empty vehicle should not create any problems if left at the edge of the car park and not causing an obstruction.

We left the other car here behind Inversanda Bay. It's a lonely spot and I phoned the police in Strontian to see if there was any car crime in the area. He told me there was zero car crime. Sometimes travelling people (gypsies) camp at Inversanda. I have left my car next to another of their camp sites (2km further west) while climbing Beinn Garbh several times without any problems. I usually say hello and pass the time of day with them with them on the way past and have found them polite, hospitable and interested in where we were going. If you have a suspicious nature you could always leave a car at Corran Ferry.

What a great feeling it was to be out on the water with the prospect of 115km of paddling and two nights' wild camping! The mountains of Ardgour soon slipped away astern...

 ...as we got underway by both paddle and sail power!

Morvern has few roads and it was a treat to explore its wild coast, which often tumbled steeply into the sea.

Behind us Loch Linnhe stretched away to Ben Nevis in the distance. The summit of the Ben was still streaked by snow.

After some time we came to a private bothy hidden in the woods behind the shore.