A cold second breakfast at dead end beach, Jura

We woke on the morning of our fourth day of our trip round Jura and Colonsay on the machair of Shian Bay on the west coast of Jura. A cold NW wind was blowing  and it felt like spring had retreated to allow the return of winter.

As we had no intention of paddling through the Gulf of Corryvreckan against the west going flood tide, in wind over tide conditions, we wanted to arrive at the west end of the Corryvreckan at slack water before the east going ebb started. That was not until late afternoon and as the Corryvreckan was only 24km away, we had some time to kill. Unfortunately there was not a scrap of shelter on Shian Bay so, on the one morning we could have enjoyed a relaxed start, we had to get moving to keep warm.

We donned full winter attire and...

...Sam even had his pogies on. What a contrastv to the previous few days.

As we left Shian Bay the wind had just a little too much north in it to get our sails up which...

...pleased sail-less Sam. Then, as soon as we rounded the first headland (backed by huge raised beaches of cobbles),...

...the wind freed enough to get our sails up and we were soon making excellent progress up the...

...remote NW coast of Jura, which is always a delight.

In addition to the raised cobble beaches there are several levels of raised cliffs, which feature dry arches and caves and are interspersed by sand dunes. They represent the varying sea levels after the last Ice Age. The west coast of Jura is one of the geological wonders of the World but it gets hardly any visitors.

Our first stop was at Corpach Bay, some 7km further on from Shian Bay. Corpach Bay is backed by caves which were once used to store corpses from Argyll on their final journey to Iona for burial. Iona is 45km away on the horizon at the extreme left of this photo. Often sea conditions were too rough to complete the journey, especially in winter. One can imagine the smell in the caves come springtime when the mourners returned.

We needed some shelter for second breakfast and, not fancying the caves, we spotted a dry sea stack at the back of the beach.

This provided excellent shelter for a most convivial second breakfast. We were all in excellent spirits as we were in no hurry and had no dead to bury.

Read Ian's account here.

You may rue the day you meet the giant bothy rat and adders of Ruantallain.

On the second day of our trip to Orondsay and Colonsay we woke before dawn and were breakfasting by the time the sun rose above the hills of Jura.

 It is always exciting setting off to a new island and neither Sam, Maurice nor...

 ...Ian had been before but David and I had circumnavigated Oransay and Colonsay from Islay and returned via Jura in September 2009.

We set off across the mouth of West Loch Tarbert leaving Glenbatrick and Lord Astor's summer house...

 ...far behind.

 A fair wind soon carried us...

 ...across to Ruantallain.

Ruantallain was an ancient stopping off place on the voyage across to Oronsay. Our ancestors often had to leave the corpses of  their dead here, if it was too rough to cross. The corpses were left in the Corpachs or "dead caves"  at the foot of the raised sea cliffs behind the beach. Along the cliff faces, the dark entrances to the caves were like the empty eye sockets of the skulls within.

Not far from the shore lies the ruined farm stead of Ruantallain, which was finally abandoned in 1947. One half of the cottage with the tin roof is a  locked estate refuge the other is an unlocked simple estate bothy. Tony and I had intended staying here here in  June 2007 and David, Jennifer, Phil and I again considered it in September 2009. Our present little party had wondered why I did not consider staying here the previous evening. They were about to find out!

Tony and I were well tired when we arrived late in the day in 2007. The door creaked open and we let a little light into the gloom within. Two red eyes glared at us from the chair. It was a huge bothy rat. With great presence of mind Tony grabbed a log from a wood pile at the door and thew it at the rat. Any normal bothy rat would have bolted for its hole but this one charged at us. We fled to the shore. Where we pitched...

 ..our tents on the rather stony grass above the high tide mark.

It did not take long to discover that Ruantallain was a vipers's nest, literally hoaching with adders. Of course in the evening and morning these cold blooded creatures are less likely to slither away form your approach and are more likely to strike if you have not noticed them in time.

Now David knew all about the bothy rat and adders of Ruantallain, so like me he hung about the shore. The others thought I was prone to exaggeration and set off to the bothy discover for themselves... Well only Sam made it as far as the bothy. As soon as Ian and Maurice had left the beach they came across a coiled viper in the strike position. That was it, they went no further and reappeared on the beach with some undue haste. David and I nodded sagely at one another.

It was now time to set off from Jura across the sea to Oronsay and Colonsay. Fortunately our party had survived both rats and adders and so remained complete. We did not need to leave any dead in the Corpach of Ruantallain.

You can also follow this trip on Ian's blog here...

Hard rock, hard saints, rotting corpses, banished cows (and women) at the Ross of Mull.

On our return from Market Bay on the north coast of the Ross of Mull the wind got up and in truth it was a bit of hard work to get back into the shelter of...

 ...the islands at the north end of the Sound of Iona. From here we entered...

 ...the Bull's Hole a safe but tidal anchorage between the Ross of Mull on the left and Eilean nam Ban on the right. Today the Bull's Hole is the anchorage for many of the tour boats which operate from the Sound of Mull to Staffa and the Treshnish Isles.

Donald had waited for us on a little beach at the  NE of the rocky Eilean nam Ban. Although St. Columba was beatified by the church he was not exactly a saint in terms of modern understanding of the word. Not only had he caused the death of death of 3,000 people (men)  after starting the Battle of Cúl Dreimhne he fled to Iona then banished all cows (and women) to this barren and rocky isle.

The Bull's Hole can be quite a brisk paddle if the tide is running strongly but we only had a slight current to contend with and soon arrived at Tormore Pier at the south end of the Hole. It was here that blocks of pink Ross of Mull granite were exported to build parts of Iona Abbey, University of Glasgow, Ardnamurchan, Heskier. Skerryvore and Dubh Artach lighthouses, the Jamaica and Kirklee bridges in Glasgow and Blackfriars, Holburn Viaduct and Westminster bridges in London, docks in Glasgow Liverpool and New York not to mention buildings and monuments further afield in New Zealand and USA. A tramway leads up from the pier to the quarry at Torr Mor.

Above Alan's head at the base of some low cliffs you can see the dark opening of Uamh nan Marbh, the cave of the dead, where coffins were left before final transport to Iona for burial. The cave is really only big enough for one coffin and has a ventilation window at the back.This was probably quite important as corpses were brought here from all over Scotland and some would undoubtedly be in an advanced state of decomposition by the time they got here.

 Due to the fresh N wind and the building N going tide in the Sound of Iona we decided to leave exploring the Abbey until the following morning but Donald nipped across the Sound of Iona in his F-RIB as we...

 ...continued south to Fionnphort and the ferry terminal. The ferry MV Loch Buie was just about to leave and had already lifted its ramp when two young women tottering on high heels and pulling heavy suitcases on wheels made their way slowly down the slip. The captain clearly thought more of women than St. Columba and lowered the ramp while they sauntered (rather too slowly I thought) down the slipway. Ian gave the captain a quick call on the VHF and he replied that we had plenty of time to cross in front of him before he left.

From Fionnphort  to Fidden the coastline consists of a delightful series of pink granite tors and offshore islands and reefs. Alan enjoyed a try of my Greenland paddle and...

...before long we could see Fidden farm at the end of our long day.

A stinking end to a stunning trip on the north west coast of Jura.

 From Shian Bay to Ruantallain on the west coast of Jura the coastline consists of an...

 ...unbroken wall of raised beaches and dry cliffs caves and arches. At sea level there are sharp reefs in an almost unbroken band for six kilometres.

 Rounding one headland we caught sight of Islay and the northern entrance of the Sound of Islay. The north going spring tide was running until early evening so we planned to wait for the south going tide somewhere on the Jura coastline to the SW of the entrance to West Loch Tarbert.

 This was truly superlative sea kayaking. We paddle sailed almost effortlessly under blue skies...

 ...and sparkling blue seas.

 As we travelled south the Paps of Jura heaved above the horizon. The rain that falls on these...

 ...mounds drains into the burns that are used to make our favoured tipple, Jura malt whisky.

 Headland after...

 ...headland sped by. We did try to land...

 ...at Brein Phort (stinking port) but since the map was drawn, what was shown as sandy beach is now just a boulder beach.

 A little further on we rounded the headland of Ruantallain, which marks the northern boundary of entrance to West Loch Tarbert, a deep sea loch which nearly bisects Jura. Under the cairn on the skyline is the cave of Corpach Rubh' an t-Sailean (place of the corpse at the point of the inlet). This was one of the caves where corpses were stored until safe passage could be made for burial on the holy island of Oronsay. No doubt by the time the corpses could be transported they would be stinking to high heaven. Perhaps that is why the local port was called stinking port, or perhaps it was because the port gathered seaweed washed up after winter storms, who knows?

As we crossed the wide mouth of West Loch Tarbert, the British sail training brig STS Stavros S Niarchos drifted up the Sound of Islay being carried by the tide. She spent the night anchored off Colonsay and we would get a better view of her the next day as she made her way back down the Sound of Islay on her way to her current home port of Greenock.

Tony, Phil and I have crossed wakes with the Stavros S Niarchos several times over recent years such as on this occasion on 24/5/2012 off Ailsa Craig in the Clyde. She is named after a Greek shipping tycoon and philanthropist.

 As the wind sped us down the coast of Jura, we could see a great plume of smoke...

...rising from two muir burns on Colonsay. Impressive though this plume was it would have been dwarfed by the plume when our ancestors visited Colonsay 9,000 years ago. In one autumn they cut down all the hazel trees on the island then roasted all the nuts in a huge fire pit, then left. Scorched earth or what?

When we crossed to the south side of west Loch Tarbert we had covered 9km without a break. We badly needed a stop to stretch our legs so we landed at an unnamed beach beside Rubha Lang-aoinidh (the falsely steep point). Well judging by both Ian's and Mike's  expressions they were rather disappointed at their first arrival on Jura's west coast. Indeed I propose to name this beach. From this day forth, let it be known as not as disappointment beach but as Brein Phort Deas (south stinking beach!). Holey Moley this beach was stinking. In fact it was fair minging. I couldn't see rotting corpses of any ancient Juraburghers so I suppose it was just a collection of rotting seaweed. Whatever, we did not stay and I could see that Ian and Mike both thought the highlight of their day had already passed. However, I knew better, I had been this way before (several times before in fact)!.....

Exceeding expectations on the NW coat of Jura.

We had a big day ahead of us so we rose before dawn at Glengarrisdale in NW Jura. The dawn light spread through the Gulf of Corryvreckan which separates Jura from the dark brooding cliffs of its northern neighbour, Scarba.

 After cleaning up the bothy fire and having our breakfast we had carried our things to the shore and...

 ...were on the water by eight am. The tide was rapidly emptying the bay so there was a bit of catch up involved as we carried each loaded bout to the water's edge.

 It was great to be floating and weightless again after the heavy work on land. It was a perfect day with a blue sky, light breeze and a dropping swell.

 We waved goodbye to our new friends, Tom and Frances, who were watching the sunrise from the rocks at the entrance to the bay.

 On a last look through the Corryvreckan, we spotted the still snow streaked...

 ...summit of Ben Cruachan some 54km away to the NE.

 Ahead the NW coast of Jura stretched away in a series of bold headlands to distant Islay on the horizon. The series of cliffs, headlands and deep rocky bays gives no landing for 10km until they are breached at Corpach Bay.

 Above our heads we spotted the first of many mimetoliths on Jura..Iguana Rock.

The island of Jura has always been one of the least populated in the Hebrides. This is due to it being formed mostly of metamorphic quartzite interspersed with igneous basalt dykes. It produces a thin acidic soil, which is not conducive to agriculture.

 As we travelled SW we left the stronger tides of the Corryvreckan area behind and it was a pleasure to...

 ...take our time enjoying the views of the bold headlands...

 ...in the early morning light.

 Sometimes we entered the deep shade below the cliffs and were surprised to see...

 ...goats scrambling along ledges above precipitous drops.

To our right, the low outline of Colonsay beckoned. It was within reach being just 15km away. We would have had time to explore Oronsay then catch the 18:15 ferry down to Port Askaig in the Sound of Islay. Both Ian and Mike had expressed an interest in visiting Colonsay during pre-trip planning. But as I expected, they had both already been captivated by Jura and had decided to spend time exploring this wonderful coastline instead.

We soon came to the first raised beach of quartzite cobbles. Ian and Mike started snapping away with their cameras but I told them they would see plenty more!

 We passed a wreck of a dinghy which had been tossed high above the beach by winter storms.

 We were so glad to be here in such benign conditions, just two days previously the ferries had been storm bound!

The coast is riddled with caves. This now dry sea cave has a waterfall running down its back, The burn enters it through an ancient blow hole in its roof.

We had an exciting moment when a white tailed sea eagle rose from a skerry just a few metres beyond us then perched on the clifftop after just a few lazy beats of its wings.

Low tide reveals many offshore skerries with long passages running parallel to the shore. Some were blind and we had to retrace our wakes but fortunately this one lead through a tight gap to open water beyond. My goodness we needed a break to take it all in!