A celestial fire in the sky over Ardnamurchan

Once we got the tents up there was not much time till dark but Ian and I went back out on the water. Ian had been here about three weeks previously and seen a decent sized deciduous tree washed up on the rocks. Armed with a Silky Supper Accel folding saw we soon cut it to pieces.  We filled our hatches and tied the bigger bits onto the back decks.

 We returned to the sea just as the sun was setting.

 You really can't beat a sunset on the west coast of Scotland. We are far enough away from the Equator for it to be a long drawn out affair.

The crags above the mirror flat sera turned a wonderful orange colour. If you look carefully at this photo, Ian appears to have a 5 o'clock shadow and be unshaven but that is actually the shadow of my head!

 This was truly sublime paddling as the sun sank slowly between Ardnamurchan peninsula and the isle of Muck.

To the south of the sunset, Ardnamurchan is the most westerly point on the British mainland. To the north of Muck the sunset was framed by the Sgurr of Eigg with the...

 ...Cuillin of Rum beyond.

 This proved to be a spectacular sunset, as the sun started to dip below the horizon it illuminated the undersides of the clouds with a fiery glow.

 The temperature plummeted after sunset and the Cuillin of Skye appeared as we paddled north.

 We paddled inshore of some skerries then Ian and...

 ...I rejoined Mike and Lorna back at the camp site. Just as we landed the embers of the sunset reignited as...

...although the sun was by now well below the horizon its rays were reflecting off the undersides of the clouds.

 ...and it did not stop there, this equinoctial northern sunset just went on and...

 ...on. This was taken an hour after sunset when the glow of the dying sun had now moved north to between Rum and Skye.

 What a view to enjoy our dinner bay. Unlike the previous evening when we dined together, we just sat silently appreciating the incredible...

 ...view of a celestial fire over Ardnamurchan.

As the darkness gathered we brought the wood up from the boats by the light of our head torches and lit the fire. As we had plenty of wood we were set for a comfortable night of convivial conversation and baked potatoes. It was an hour and a half after sundown and there was still an ember of the sunset in the sky. However, the embers of our fire were still going well 6 hours after sundown!

For the full stereovision experience of this amazing sunset, join Iain on his blog here.

Sunset at Fidden: episode two.

 Although Fidden on the Ross of Mull is a commercial campsite, in many ways it really is like a a wild camp site with showers. After a nice warm shower we returned to the tents to discover that the wind had dropped and the midges had come out. Ian and I set up our chairs on a little knoll to eat our meal. A little breeze up there mitigated the midges somewhat and the view was excellent.

 After dining we set up a small fire (we had brought logs) below HW mark. While Ian and I opened cans of our favoured Irish sports recovery drink, Alan and Donald were already checking through their numerous sunset photos!!

 Not to be out done, Ian and I soon got snapping too.

As the sun dipped to the horizon it took on first an...

 ...orange glow before turning...

 pinkish red.

Of course living so far from the equator has its advantages. Very often the twilight after sunset is even better than sunset itself and so...

 ...it proved. This was an hour and a half after sunset.

Behind us the white buildings of Fidden were still illuminated with a delicate warm glow and were standing out against the inky black night sky behind.

East meets west at Fidden, sheng fui at sunset

 It did not take long to paddle back to Fidden from the maze of the Moai of Mull and...

 ...soon we had both kayaks and F-Rib above the HW mark in good time before...

 ...the sun started to go down.

 It did not take long to get dinner on and Ian shared...

 ...a most delicious venison stew and new potatoes with Donald and myself.

 The sun going down...

 ...beyond the Fidden reefs and...

 ....the Sound of Iona.

Once the sun had set we set about lighting a fire on the beach (we brought our own logs). Just as a few midges began to bite a strong NE wind got up kept them away and helped the fire get going. We were rather pleased with the sheng fui arrangement of our dark sports recovery drinks on the white sands of Fidden..

We swapped tales long into the night as the moon followed the arc already taken by the sun. The drumming call of a snipe echoed round the rocks as it flew overhead.. What a day it had been!

Sanctuary at Maclean's Skull Bay for the potato men of Glengarrisdale

The tidal flow along the NW coast of Jura always runs SW to NE so we were quite tired by the time we approached Glengarrisdale Bay. We really were in need of a break. There had been nowhere to land as the swell was breaking heavily on the rocks and sending spray high above our heads. to get some idea of the scale, you can just make out Iasn paddling to the right of the red roofed cottage.

 I had no worries about landing at Glengarrisdale as some islands and reefs protect the beach from the swell. Indeed former inhabitants had constructed a seawall of cobbles between the shore and one of the islands.

Glengarrisdale Bay was a Maclean stronghold in the mid 17th century. Their stone built fortification, Aros Castle, no longer remains but its site is marked by a solitary tree. The Macleans were defeated here by the Campbells in 1647.

The former shepherd's house was finally abandoned about 1947 and is now a well maintained MBA bothy. We hoped to spend the night here but as we approached we could see clothing airing on the line and a tent pitched at its front. We feared that it might be full.

However we found only a charming young couple, Tom and Frances, who were walking round Jura's coast (a grade 10 walk!!!). They had chosen to camp so there was plenty room. So we hung our own things up to air and...

 ...soon had our stoves on for an evening meal while...

 ...Tom and Frances climbed to the top of the hill behind the bothy to watch the sunset.

We three were so knackered that we delighted in just watching the sunset from the door of the bothy while a full moon rose high in the sky.

Away to the NE, Scarba and the Corryvreckan brooded over the Glengarrisdale shore. Like many places in Scotland, today's peaceful Glengarrisdale had a bloody past. Its alternative name is...

...Maclean's Skull Bay. A gruesome skull and femurs sat on a rock at the edge of the bay for many years. They disappeared in the 1970's. The skull had a "sword" cut in it and allegedly belonged to one of the defeated Macleans from the 1647 battle. Modern legend says it was situated in Maclean's skull cave at the east of the bay. However, in John Mercer's book "Hebridean Islands, Colonsay, Gigha, Jura" published in 1972, the above photo shows the sad relics on a rock at the west end of the bay. Their current whereabouts are unknown.

 As night fell we got the bothy fire going, We had brought a bag of charcoal some wood and a saw. The estate had left some large logs which we warmed ourselves by sawing.

Tom and Frances joined us at the fire and we swapped outdoor tales. This was their second night at the bothy and both had had a strange dream the night before. Quite independently they had dreamt of men bringing baked potatoes for the fire. It was with some satisfaction that Ian, Mike and I produced sweet potatoes wrapped in tin foil and placed them on the fire, we had plenty to share. Our new friends were amazed! Nothing beats a baked sweet potato with butter and pepper! From that moment on we were known as "the potato men of Glengarrisdale"!

Fiery matters at a Barlocco dawn.

 Dawn over Barlocco proved to be more than a match for the previous evenings sunset. It was as if...

 ...our fire from the previous evening had some how set the clouds alight.

 Before the first sun of the day fell on our beach...

 ...the Galloway Hills of Cairnharrow, Ben John and Mill Knock were illuminated in beautiful red light.


 We went down to the boats to collect our breakfast things as the sun slowly but steadily...

 ...dropped towards sea level, lighting successive layers of the land and seascape as it did so.

 There was not much sign of life at the caravan site across the bay as...

 ...we warmed ourselves by the embers and warm stones of the previous night's super fire. Note that the large round log which formed the back of our fire has completely disappeared! This year has been a good year for fires. We are not just talking size but also about heat output. Crispy trouser bottoms are a sign of a good fire but are not in themselves a measure of how good a fire is. However, we now have a rough scale to judge future fires by: ten Inchmarnocks (Ix) make one Cara (Cx) and ten Caras make one Barlocco (Bx). It might be some time till we have another Barlocco (Bx)! A key feature of this fire had been Ian's large log fireback which acted both as a reflector and a generator of heat..

In the background we saw the tide was coming in but we were in no rush to carry the boats far. So Mike toasted his toes by the embers and Ian went hunting for shells.

Jennifer had found a groatie buckie (cowrie) on this beach and given it to me for my 60th birthday. Ian did his best to spot one but there were none to be found.

I went looking for lichens to photograph and gradually the tide came up to the boats...