Showing posts with label Mull of Cara. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mull of Cara. Show all posts

Thursday, July 11, 2013

The Mull of Cara.

 The summit of the Mull of Cara is a marvellous place to spend a summer morning.

 Far below us...
 ...the Canada geese were looking after their goslings and...

 ...at our feet the moorland was alive with sea campion and...

 ...tormentil.

 In the far distance the Mull of Oa on Islay could be seen on the horizon to the WSW while nearer at hand...

 ...Cara's neighbour Gigha filled much of the view to the north.

It was now time to return to our kayaks.

Thursday, July 04, 2013

The Brownie of Cara; the correct way to greet him.

 At long last we paddled under...

 ...the steep rocks of the Mull of Cara. In 1756 part of the cliff collapsed and a tidal wave swept right round the island destroying the houses on the north side of the island. Maybe it was an earthquake or maybe it was a meteorite strike no one knows. In the middle of the grassy shelf on the Mull's shoulder we could just make out an isolated block of rock known as "The Brownie's Chair".

 We passed Cara house which has a resident ghost called "The Brownie", he of the eponymous chair. The Brownie is a mischievous spirit and it pays all visitors to stay on his right side.

At long last we pulled into a white, shell sand beach on Cara. We had covered 78 km since leaving Campbeltown just 24 hours previously and now we had arrived in the Hebrides! This might not seem like much to proper sea kayakers but to us, who merely dabble our paddles, it was quite a lot more than we were used to!

 If one lands on Cara (and especially so, if one intends to stay the night) it is a wise sea kayaker who knows the correct protocol for greeting The Brownie. It is vital to do this before doing anything else. One needs to raise one's cap then doff it in a suitably deferential manner while at the same time saying in a clear voice "Good Evening Mr. Brownie". The only acceptable variation to this protocol is to change the greeting to suit the time of day of one's arrival.

Failure to satisfy The Brownie on this matter will result in him interpreting your arrival as a serious diplomatic faux pas. All manner of mischief may then be unleashed upon your party by this unhappy spirit. Campbells need to be particularly careful as The Brownie is the spirit of a MacDonald who was murdered by a Campbell. Best advice would be to never disclose your surname on Cara. If your first name is Campbell then you must use a nickname or visit Gigha instead. The annals of Scottish sea kayaking are full of tales of The Brownie's mischief; kayaks floating away in the night, paddles being hidden in the bramble bushes and much, much worse.

Fortunately our greetings seemed to be acceptable and our camp was established without mishap or incident. But the uninhabited Cara House was just out of sight, over the bluebells and...

...as night fell...a light came on in The Brownie's room...

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Who's been sitting in my chair?


From Cara House, we made our way slowly up the spine of the Island towards the Mull of Cara. We looked back northwards over the blooming heather of Cara to a magnificent view encompassing, Jura, the Sound of Jura, Gigha, the Sound of Gigha and Kintyre.


To the NW the Paps of Jura dominated the skyline while...


...to the NE the dazzling strip of sand, where we had luncheon the previous day, highlighted the Sound of Gigha.


The final rise to the Mull of Cara took some time...


...and the summit gave a chance for a breather and a photo opportunity.


The rocks fell away steeply from the Mull of Cara and there was nothing but sea between us and the distant Mull of Oa, some 35km away to the SW. In 1756 a huge rockfall slid into the sea from the Mull of Cara. It was accompanied by a tsunami, which swept up the beaches of Cara washing all the coastal houses away. Some say it was a meteorite that struck the cliff.


We looked down on the headland of Maol a' Mhor-rain, off which the tide race forms. All was quiet as the wind was light and it was near slack water. The bay was notorious for catching the bodies of sailors who were lost in these parts.


Just below the high rocks we came to the Brownie's chair. It only has one arm but that is apparently enough for the Brownie. Kintyre stretched away to its distant Mull in the south.

It was time to go, the chair's owner might be back!