Blood on the rocks and a murder at Appin.

 We launched in the pre-dawn light from the slipway near the Ballachulish Hotel.

Above us the steel grey bridge blended into the steel grey sky.

 Below us the ebb tide was kicking out through the narrows at 12km/hr. It was rather surreal travelling backwards at this speed as the land whizzed by. The cloud cover meant that it was a good bit warmer than our first days's trip to Kinlochleven.

A decent easterly wind  sprung up and so the sails were unfurled to help us speed our way into Loch Linnhe. Wind with tide gave fast progress on flat water and...

 ...soon the mountains of Ardgour then...

 ...Morvern dominated our view to the west. As the sun rose, the temperature did rise and it was noticeable how the snow had thinned overnight.

We were paddling down the south east side of Loch Linnhe, past Ardsheal Hill which we had climbed two days before.

 Gradually we encountered a SE headwind so we...

 ...hugged the shore until...

...we came across a sheltered NW facing bay where we...

 ...pulled up our kayaks on some remarkably sharp gravel. It was time for second breakfast. I became aware that one of my fingers was leaking quite a lot of blood but I hadn't felt a thing as my hands were so cold. We had plenty of elastoplasts so for once I did not have to resort to duct tape.

Of course a few drops of my blood on the Appin shore were nothing compared with the real events that surrounded the "Appin Murder" which took place here in 1752, six years after the defeat of the Jacobite Rebellion at Culloden. Colin Campbell, a local laird and Hanoverian agent was travelling along Loch Linnhe collecting taxes from the Stewarts and evicting those who could not pay. Suddenly a shot rang out and he was killed. News travelled fast to London where both the government and the King feared a third Jacobite (Stewart) uprising. The Stewart chief, James of the Glen, was arrested and charged without a shred of evidence. He was sent for trial in Inveraray, the seat of the Campbell clan. The judge was the chief of the Campbell Clan and eleven out of the fifteen jurors were Campbells. Stewart was found guilty and hanged at Ballachuilish. It was one of the blackest days in Scottish legal history.

 We found an idyllic sheltered bank with a...

...great view of the mountains and of...

...the Corran ferry 7.5km to the north.

 After second breakfast, Ian set about making the performance seat in his Cetus mv. The lower tab develops an uncomfortable crease that can be cured by cutting the tab completely off.

With comfortable posture restored we set off again down Loch Linnhe towards the northern end of Cuil Bay. We were momentarily distracted by a large dog otter munching a crab on the rocks.

From the shelter of Rubha Mor we looked across Cuil Bay to our destination Eilean Balnagowan. The wind had got up from the SE to a good F4 gusting F5. It proved to be a lumpy crossing but...

We found excellent shelter to go with the 15y old Dalmore that accompanied first luncheon. Despite its small size, Eilean Balnagowan has four shingle beaches. So it gives a sheltered location whatever direction the wind is blowing from. Neither Ian nor Mike had been before but I had paddled between Port Appin and Glencoe 6 years previously. I was surprised to discover a new pier, road and house on Balnagowan. The house was completed in 2014.

United in death at the Isles of Glencoe.

The light was fading fast when we crossed from the north shore of Loch Leven to the south shore. On the way we...

 ...paddled across to the Isles of Glen Coe where we drifted through...

.... narrow channels as the weak and dying.sun did its best to generate a sunset.

 In the gloaming we found ourselves paddling past the largest, Eilean Munde, . Many think the Gaelic means "island of the dead" but it is actually named after St Mundus who came here from Iona to found a church in the 7th century. An alternative name, Eilean Nam Mairbh does mean Isle of the Dead, This spot was the shared burial ground of three warring clans, the Stewarts, the MacDonalds, the McInnesses and the Camerons. At least they were united in death. A cold wind got up and moaned mournfully through the trees and tombstones that stand on this lonely rock. We left the silent tombs to the gathering darkness...

The wind was local to the islands and soon petered out so the sails were furled and we got our heads down for the...

...paddle back through the Ballachulish narrows. The tide was flooding in at 5.5 knots but we enjoyed a helpful eddy all the way back to the slipway and the hotel. After a hot bath we reconvened for frothing pints of sports recovery drinks and as we enjoyed our Cullen Skink soup, mussels and shanks of lamb we knew we would never again be as cold as absolute zero degrees Kinlochleven.

Loch Leven is certainly worth an explore, especially in winter. Snowy mountains, wooded isles, history and strong tides, what more could you ask?

Kayaks at dawn in the Ballachuillish narrows.

 We spent a very comfortable night in the excellent Ballachuillish Hotel. We planned to launch from the hotel and so started to load the boats in the car park.

 It was minus 12C though elsewhere in the Highlands it had fallen to minus 13.7. Whatever it was a bit nippy on the hands.

Although the loch side was still in darkness the summit of Garbh Bheinn, 885m, was catching the first rays from the rising sun which was still well below our horizon.

We trolleyed the kayaks a short distance to the jetty of  the old BalLachuilish Ferry. The bridge was completed at the end of 1975 but, before that, a vehicle ferry ran across the narrows from 1903. These were flat bottomed turntable ferries and used the slipways in the shallow water at either side of the narrows. One of the last of these ferries was the Glenachulish. She was built in 1969 at the Ailsa yard at Troon on the Firth of Clyde. She served the Ballachulish crossing until the bridge opened, then she was moved to Kessock and then Kylsku to serve as the relief ferry until those crossings were replaced by bridges in 1982 and 1984. After this she moved to Glenelg for the Skye crossing where she still serves today. The Ballachuilish crossing at the peak of a spring tide always provided an entertaining ferry glide.

We planned to go up the north side of the loch to catch what little sun might make its way down to the loch through the steep mountains. The ebb tide was pouring out the narrows at 5.5 knots. Mike decided to take the eddy well up under and beyond the bridge before ferry gliding across the narrows further up.

I decided to just tough it out by ferrying across the fastest flow at the bridge. I had to PLF and was very warm by the time I got to the other side but at least I could rest while I watched Mike...

... come across into a small eddy then watch...

...Ian make his way across.

It really was a struggle against the current...

...we stuck to the shallow water...

...where the current was running slower but...

...it was literally an uphill  battle until we ...

...reached the calmer waters of the broder loch beyond. After a brief rest we

...set off on our exploration of Loch Leven.

Gradually the sun rose above the mountains and...

as we rounded the natural rock walls of An Dunan (site of an Iron Age fort) we...

...entered the natural harbour of Poll an Dunain in full sun.

Amid the decay, something brought a smile to our faces.

 A few weeks ago, David, Mike, Phil and myself set off from the open Firth of Clyde up the confluence of the Irvine and Garnock estuaries.

At first things did not look too promising. This old boat had clearly seen better days and decay seemed to be...

...the order of the day as we passed long abandoned jetties.

 Then as we...

...passed under an old bridge in the Garnock estuary ...

 ...our mood lightened and...

...something brought a smile to our faces.

Preaching to the converted in Blackwaterfoot Harbour.

 From Corriecravie we came to Aird nan Ron (Seal Point) and true to its name, the point was a haven for common seals.

  At the next headland, Kilpatrick Point we passed the Preaching Cave in the low cliffs behind the shore. The only sermon we heard were a few singing common seals.

Leaving the hamlet of Kilpatrick we set off across...

...Drumadoon Bay towards the...

 ...village of Blackwaterfoot.

The sands of the village beach are backed by The Doon, a dramatic basalt sill which once had an extensive Iron Age settlement perched on its summit.

Nowadays the settlement of Blackwaterfoot is at sea level and clusters round a tiny harbour at the mouth of....

 ...the Clauchan Water. I explored this waterfall which is the limit of navigation as the local bus rumbled over the bridge.

As we paddled round the little harbour, the family in the VW camper from the camp site gave us a big wave. I think they were surprised we had arrived in Blackwaterfoot before them! From the sea it would be all too easy to miss this tiny harbour. It is worth keeping your eyes open, fortunately I did not have to persuade either Ian or Mike to take a detour. Neither of them are headland to headland types either.