Sea kayaking desktop wallpaper calendar 2014.

I wish a very Happy New Year and a great 2014 paddling season to all visitors to seakayakphoto.com. As way of a celebration of the last year and in anticipation of sea kayaking adventures yet to come, here is the 10th annual sea kayaking desktop wallpaper calendar from seakayakphoto.com. I apologise for its late arrival. Neither my computer nor myself have been in the best of health.

As in past calendars, all the photos were taken during the previous year (2013). Unfortunately I have not been paddling over the last 6 months so the choice of photos has been more limited than previous years. Nevertheless I have been able to choose photos from north and south of Ardnamurchan Point, the Inner Hebrides, the North Channel, the Firth of Clyde and the Solway Firth.

January.

The Little Cumbrae lighthouse in the Firth of Clyde proved surprisingly popular despite being in the depths of winter. We met friends from the Drumchapel and Clydebank Kayak Club there.

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February.

Rubha Carrach is on the exposed northern coast of Ardnamurchan. This coast is not paddled as often as it should be. Most circumnavigators of the British mainland cross to Eigg or Rubh' Arisaig on their headlong dash north. Paddlers staying in the area are faced with a circumnavigation of the whole Ardnamurchan peninsula if they only have one car, or a very long shuttle (over very slow single track) if they have two cars.

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March.

Glenuig Bay opens into the Sound of Arisaig and views extend along the Ardnamurchan peninsula and to Muck and the other Small Isles. One of the great joys of winter paddling is returning in the dark!

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April.

The north coast of Rum in the Sea of the Hebrides is a wild place. This is the sad wreck of the Jack Abry II, a French trawler that ran on to the rocks here just before midnight on the 31st January 2011. Fortunately, despite a gale and the surrounding cliffs and mountains, all 14 men on board were airlifted to safety by the Stornoway coastguard helicopter.

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May.

The Mull of Kintyre is a rather committing paddle. The tide was moving at  6 knots and even in benign conditions there was no landing for 25km. It sticks out into the North Channel which separates Scotland from Ireland. On this misty day there was no sign of Ireland and we felt like we were paddling round the edge of the World.

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June.

Kylie the dolphin can often be found near Ardlamont buoy at the

mouth of the the Kyles of Bute.

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July.

Murray's Isles lie in the mouth of Fleet Bay on the Solway Firth. In early summer they host noisy colonies of cormorants and gulls. The cormorants need to keep a watchful eye on their eggs and chicks as the gulls swoop down on any unguarded nest. It is a wonderful experience to drift in the tide past the colonies in kakak and watch, hear and smell the constant activity.

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August.

Nothing can be finer than paddling across the mouth of Loch Fyne on a summer evening.

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September.

The surf beach at Machrihanish is exposed to the North Atlantic swell and extends for over 6 kilometers. It is probably wise not to surf a fully laden sea kayak in amongst the surfers. The dune system behind the beach is one of the largest in Scotland.

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October.

Shoe Bay is easily missed as it is hidden in the skerries at the mouth of Loch Moidart. The name comes from the very soft sand which swallows footwear!

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November.

The dramatic outline of An Sgurr is the highest point of Eigg in the Sea of the Hebrides.

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December.

This is the view to the Small Isles from the silver sands of Morar Bay.  The bay is shallow and tidal and in a westerly wind, steep breaking waves build up as the ebb tide rushes over sandbars. On this trip the wind was from the east and all was calm.

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Campbeltown to Ardrossan via the Mull of Kintyre using a ferry and a portage.

This was a 200km 6 day trip taking the ferry from Ardrossan to Campbeltown then kayaking round the Mull of Kintyre to the surf beaches of Machrihanish and the Hebridean isles of Cara and Gigha before returning to the Clyde by West Loch Tarbert and portaging across the Kintyre peninsula to East Loch Tarbert in the Firth of Clyde. We then returned to Ardrossan via the mouth of Loch Fyne and the Firth of Clyde islands of Inchmarnock, Bute and Little Cumbrae.

Day 1. East coast of Kintyre

Single ticket to Campbeltown please.

A four pointed cross on a two pointed island.

A Bastard of a headwind and a Bloody rock..

An Art Deco landmark in the twilight at the Mull of Kintyre.

Day 2. Mull of Kintyre to Cara.

An early start for the Mull of Kintyre.

All quiet at the End of the World.

It's the Dug's Lugs (if not bollocks) at the Mull of Kintyre!

The Mull of Kintyre west coast... a sailors' graveyard.

Three angry birders of Machrihanish.

Surf's up but coal's run out at Machrihanish Bay.

Kintyre ports not much good in a storm.

Cloud watching on a long crossing to Cara.

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

Cara sunset.

Day 3. Cara and Gigha east coast.

Mistaken location of St Fionnlugh's chapel, Cara?

A tale of goat bhuna, bluebells, albinos and a Brownie.

The Mull of Cara.

The great voyage from Cara to Gigha!

Two lobsters, a crab, a haddock, countless langoustines and a couple of circumnavigations on Gigha.

A postprandial snooze on Gigha.

Baked potatoes at sundown on Cara.

The glory of a Hebridean sunset.

Day 4. Cara and Gigha west coast.

We had a swell time on Cara.

The Mull and mimetoliths of Cara.

The Boathouse, Gigha.

Anchor Rock, Gigha.

Farewell Cara, hello Jura.

The antithesis of headland to headland paddling.

The great quartz vein of Grob Bagh, Gigha.

The heat of a June day on the machair of Gigha.

The landing place of the spectre, Gigha.

The great rock wall of Cnoc Loisgte, Gigha.

Trouble at the mill on Gigha.

Better Days #15, on Gigha

End of a long day on Gigha.

Light my fire, on Gigha.

Living the dream of the Hebridean Isles on Gigha.

We were not alone on Gigha.

Day 5. Gigha to Ardlamont in the Firth of Clyde.

Much toing and froing on the crossing to West Loch Tarbert.

Daisies , shells, pottery and a marble at Dunskeig Bay.

The ferries of West Loch Tarbert.

A fair wind in West Loch Tarbert.

A busy waterway at Kennacraig.

A tale of two islands, one ferry and two captains.

Time for a sharp exit at West Loch Tarbert Pier.

Better Days #16 in West Loch Tarbert.

Tidal planning on an (unarmed) portage from West Loch Tarbert to East Loch Tarbert.

Sea kayaking again in East Loch Tarbert.

Lost buoys and a green ferry in East Loch Tarbert.

Paddle sailing away in the clear air at the end of a long day.

Tired kayakers and concrete sleepers at Kilbride Bay.

Saved by a sundowner in Kilbride Bay.

A peaceful night alone on Ardlamont?

Baked potatoes and bandits in Ardlamont.

Day 6. Ardlamont to Ardrossan via Inchmarnock, Bute and Little Cumbrae.

Between a rock and a contrail on Ardlamont.

Kylie the lonely dolphin: a tale of anthropomorphism and anthropology at Ardlamont and the West Kyle buoy.

Two luncheons, a queen, a saint and a cow on the fair isle of Inchmarnock.

All quiet on the Sound of Bute.

Some fishy goings on in the Sound of Bute.

Dun paddling at Dunagoil.

A turbulent past but all calm now as we made our way past Garroch Head.

The clarity of light and reflected clouds at Little Cumbrae.

A small matter of the Trade Descriptions Act as we set foot on the sands of Ayrshire.

Saved by a sundowner off Ardrossan.

All washed up at Ardrossan South Beach.

A tale of goat bhuna, bluebells, albinos and a Brownie.

From Cara House we made our way to the spine of the island and gained a grand view of Gigha and the Paps of Jura to the north and the north west.

 Continuing southwards, we approached the Mull of Cara at the southernmost extremity of the island.

 On the way we passed this beautiful tombolo beach and found ourselves in a sea of bluebells which...

 ....stretched all the way to the Mull of Cara.

On the way we met the resident goat population. When I visited the Punjab, I developed a taste for goat bhuna (though I tended to leave the trotters at the side of the plate as my dental work was too expensive to risk on the enthusiastic crunching I was hearing from my Punjabi friend's mouths). There used to be too many goats on Cara and as a result there were hardly any wild flowers. There were also lots of goat carcasses littered round the island in spring as the island was not big enough to support the population over the winter. On a previous visit the captain of the Gigha  ferry told me that a Yorkshire gentleman, with a chain of Indian restaurants, brought a refrigerated lorry and some Punjabi friends with long guns north to Kintyre. There are now...

...a sensible number of goats and the wild flowers have returned. Salt licks for the goats have been placed round the island so the goats are now being properly managed.The proportion of albino goats has increased since the shooting started, perhaps the recipe for goat bhuna calls for a brown goat.

Anyway on Cara the albino gene frequency is higher in goats than bluebells, I only spotted two albino clusters in this huge...

...field of bluebells, which led all the way to the Mull of Cara and...

...the Brownie's chair from which we enjoyed a view to the distant Mull of Kintyre.

Kintyre ports not much good in a storm.

North of Machrihanish Bay, the coast of Kintyre has a rocky character. It was not easy to land due to the surf so we had a careful look at the several "ports" which are named on the map. "Port" usually signifies a traditional landing spot for a small boat.We passed Westport, Port nam Marbh, Port Corbert, Port na Croise and Port Crom but each faced west and was full of breaking surf. Historically this must have been an important coast as in addition to the ports, we passed six duns and forts and there were more further north.

We finally found a small inlet which was protected from the surf by offshore reefs at Killocraw.

 It was a great relief to finally stretch our legs while admiring the distant...

...hills of the Mull of Kintyre, round which we had paddled 65 km since the previous evening.

Surf's up but coal's run out at Machrihanish Bay.

 From  Machrihanish village we paddled north...

 ...over a glassy sea and soon...

 ...the misty mountains and tides of the Mull of Kintyre were left far in our wakes.

Beyond the surf zone (we chose not to land) the magnificent beach and sand dunes of Machrihanish Bay...

 ... stretch uninterrupted for 7 kilometers. It is hard to believe that four and a half centuries of coal mining took place here and ended as recently as 1967. The dunes also conceal the longest runway in Britain.

At Westport at the north end of the bay the surfers were enjoying *** conditions. We waved as we passed and it turned out Jennifer knew the surfer on the left.

Three angry birders of Machrihanish.

Eventually we reached the end of the relentless line of cliffs and headlands that characterise the Mull of Kintyre and we arrived at the extensive reef system of Skerrivore. The surf was breaking heavily on the reef, the north going tide was running strongly and we could see a series of overfalls extending to the north. We were tired and rather in need of a visit to the Machrihanish loo, given our early start and not landing for 24km and so we cut between Skerrivore and the mainland..

We were 200m offshore but 3 birders in the bird observatory at the point blew an air horn at us and made angry gestures to us to get out the way. A couple of herring gulls and a crow flew off when they let the air horn off and if they only knew it, there were flocks more birds just 500m further back round the coast from their hut anyway.... We exercised our right of steady navigation on the open seas and continued...

 ...to land at Macrihanish. One of the angry birders jumped in his car and followed us round the coast, stopping in each layby to observe our plumage through his binoculars. Then a police car roared up from the direction of Campbeltown. It slowed as it passed us and the two officers gave us a careful look before it headed off in the direction of the bird hut where it spent about 20 minutes. It then sped back to Campbeltown without the officers giving us a second glance. Not surprisingly it did not stop, we had not broken any laws, maritime or land.

We had originally intended camping at the excellent Macrihanish camp site and having a meal at the Old Clubhouse pub but we had no wish to exchange further pleasantries with these three angry birders. So after a quick luncheon on the beach we took our money elsewhere. Of course the vast majority of Kintyre ornithologists would never dream of greeting visitors with air horns!

We relaunched through the small Machrihanish surf (in my case with some difficulty given both a sore knee and a sore shoulder) and set course for the fair isle of Cara.

The Mull of Kintyre west coast... a sailors' graveyard.

We were now travelling north up the wild, exposed, tide swept and remote west coast of the Mull of Kintyre.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, given the topography, we met a counter eddy running south to Rubha Duin Bhain, which formed a distinct eddyline as it swirled round the headland and joined the main north going stream. This can be a violently rough race in windy conditions but all was calm when we passed. The chart shows a spring rate of 3.5knots here with overfalls and even at neeps we were travelling at 9km/hr with little paddling effort.

This time the swell made landing at Innean Glen impossible...

...but you can read about a landing with Tony here in 2008...

...when we visited the Sailor's Grave.

 The tide swept us relentlessly on, past innumerable boulder fields and...

 ...bold headlands, all washed by  the Atlantic swell.

It's the Dug's Lugs (if not bollocks) at the Mull of Kintyre!

The Mull of Kintyre on a misty day is a sombre and imposing place. Ahead lay Rubha na Lice and South Point...

 ...behind us lay headland after headland with their tops disappearing into the mist.

 The first sign of the hand of man was a series of power pylons leading to the south foghorn.

The tide was now carrying us north at 13km/hr (an hour after slack water) and at last the Mull itself emerged from the mist.

We knew we had arrived when we spotted "the Dug's lugs", the rock below the the lighthouse, with the sticky up ears. We didn't savour the location for long, the tides whisked us away to the north but it would be another 15km till we would be able to land...