High and dry in Loch Moidart north channel.

At the east end of Shona Beag, the ebb tide was running strongly back down the south channel of Loch Moidart. once we rounded the end of the island we could see that the tide in the north channel was running east and joining the west flowing ebb in the south channel so I was pretty sure that the bar in the north channel would be dry.

My assumption was correct. High water in Loch Moidart was 08:54 and it was three days after springs. At 13:21 we were able to paddle right up to the causeway that the "road" runs over to Eilean Shona.

 Looking west down the north channel from the causeway.

Looking east up the north channel after the short portage across the causeway. For any future trips I am pretty sure that 3.5 hours either side of high water in Loch Moidart should see you through without a portage. No time was to be wasted, not even for a drop of The Singleton. We remained quite dry as we raced to beat the tide.

The north channel was emptying quickly and water was extremely shallow for a considerable distance below the causeway...

 ,...so it was a great relief to enter deeper water.

The Sgurr of Eigg acts as a focal point at the far end of the north channel which is...

 ...hemmed in by steep rocky slopes. We called this balanced rock "the Mushroom".

 The opening to the north channel is blocked by a series of low reefs and...

 ...green lagoons interspersed with...

 ...coral sand beaches.

Then we were clear, into the Sound of Arisaig with magnificent views to Eigg and the snow covered Cuillin of Rum beyond. Time for a swally *

* swally (n) a quenching of one's drouth.

Peaceful Ardtoe reverie shattered by sudden sufacing of Sammy the Otter.

 Ian and I paddled round Eilean Dubh in Kentra Bay. This small isle is split by...

 ...numerous channels through which....

 ...the strengthening ebb tide propelled us steadily...

 ...past the birchwoods at the narrow entrance and...

 towards the open sea.

We paddled north towards the vegetation capped Sgeir an Eididh, which in Gaelic means clothed reef. In the distance beyond the dark outline of Eigg, the Rum Cuillin were capped in snow.

We had now left the birch woods of Ardtoe behind and were paddling along the barren rocky peninsula of Rubha  na Caillich in Moidart...Point of the Old Woman.

 Our peaceful reverie was shattered by the sudden surfacing of our old friend Sammy the Otter who seemed...

...quite unconcerned by our presence.

Better days in Kentra Bay.

After a good breakfast at Glenuig Inn, Ian and I launched in the small sandy cove of Ardtoe. It is situated at the root of the great peninsula of Ardnamurchan. It was just after high water, so we decided to start our day by exploring the tidal inlet of Kentra Bay.

As we approached the narrow entrance, the coast to our left was composed of grey rocks interspersed with white sand beaches and on our right...

 ...lay the Small Isles and...

 ...the snow covered Cuillin of Skye.

 We paddled into Kentra Bay under a leaden sky and upon a glassy sea.

 Wild wooded slopes tumbled steeply to the shores and...

 ...the ebb tide was already streaming through...

 ....the gaps between the rocky islets.

 We passed an old boathouse and a carefully...

 ...moored old Nordkapp.

Although it was March, the birch woods were still in the grip of winter. Maybe the trees were expecting the coming snows...

 This moored dinghy had seen better days but...

 ...the old Ardtoe pier is made of sterner stuff, its great stones have weathered many storms.

Nearby houses perched on the cliffs, while their boat houses clung to rocks by the shore.

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

Departure gate, Port Mor terminal 1.

 Ian and I still had some time before the ferry arrived to take us back from Muck to Mallaig via Eigg. We decided to take the short walk across to the north side of the island. Ahead of us the brooding Cuillin of Rum slowly emerged from...

 ...the cloud that was enveloping the island..

 As we started the descent to the north shore Horse Island dominated the view to the north west of Muck.

 We soon passed Camas na Cairidh, where we had made landfall on Muck less than 24 hours before.

 Gallanach Lodge is the new hotel on Muck and will open at the end of May 2013.

 A few moments after passing the Lodge we arrived at the beautiful Gallanach sands.

 Though tourists would need to be prepared to share the beach with the local residents at the west end of the beach. Mr MacEwen the farmer and owner of Muck gave us a welcoming wave as he passed on his quad bike. Unlike nearby Rum, which was closed to visitors, Muck has welcomed visitors and offered them free access for decades before the Scottish Land Reform Act guaranteed access to Scottish wild land for responsible visitors.

 Just past the bay and farm we came to Gallanach Cottage which is available to rent.

Ian and I then took a short walk to the north end of Muck. I found the ground to be too rough along the coast so...

...we walked along the short turf on the crest of the ridge where we came across some gravestones.

There are a number of idyllic beaches here but we did not scramble down to them as my knees were really sore and we still had to get back to Port Mor...

 ...Terminal 1 where the crowds were already gathering for the arrival...

 of the ferry.

 The MV Loch Nevis reversed in and we pulled our kayaks up her stern loading ramp. The crew were most interested to hear how we had got on particularly as we were the first sea kayakers of the season.

The MV Loch Nevis called in at the new ferry terminal on Eigg after passing through the narrow channel between Eilean Chathastail and the mainland of Eigg.

The old tidal  harbour can still be entered behind the new jetty though the channel between the perches is neither wide nor deep.

As we left Eigg the low winter sun briefly lit the wonderful landscape before the clouds gathered round...

 ...the Sgurr of Eigg and sea fog rolled round...

...the north end of the island. With a chill in the air we went below to...

...enjoy a huge plate of scampi and chips.

All too soon our Small Isles trip was over. The crew kindly helped us pull the kayaks up the steep ramp then we loaded the kayaks onto the cars, which we had left at Mallaig sea front.

Ian and I had both enjoyed this trip immensely.  Neither of us is goal orientated. We just went paddling for an enjoyable kayaking exploration. Amazingly however, we had paddled between all four of the Small Isles and spent a night on each on a winter trip. A key element in this was flexible planning, we changed plans several times to take account of changing conditions. It would be fair to say that some of the options we had changed to, had been considered at the planning stages before we set off.

We had met many interesting and genuinely nice people. It was fascinating to hear how each island community was working for its development and future. We had faced everything from flat calm and fog to some of the roughest wind against tide conditions you would care to spend any time in, in a remote place in winter. Ian and I were also fortunate in that we shared such a similar attitude to trip planning and risk assessment. Ultimately the trip was all the richer for each of us, as it was a shared experience.

It is always good to follow a story from more than one perspective. Ian's story can be followed fom here to here.

As we drove home on the Road to the Isles, the sun set behind Muck and we knew we would return soon.