Perfect paddle sailing past the Paps of Jura.

We set off from Colonsay on the short 16km crossing to Jura. The Paps of Jura increasingly dominated...

...the eastern horizon as the favourable breeze pushed...

 ...our little fleet steadily east.

Sam unfortunately had no sail so he just had to...

 ...put his head down and paddle hard while...

 ...the others could take it easier and enjoy the view.

 About half way across we could make out...

 ...the fine white strand of our destination on Jura's wild and remote west coast at Shian Bay (Bay of the Tempest).


For once we had arrived while the sun was still relatively high in the sky, so we looked forward to a more relaxed setting up of camp.

Read Ian's account here.

Landfall in an Oronsay midden.

We set off from Ruantallain on Jura for the distant isles of Oronsay and Colonsay which were just a thin blue line on the western horizon.

 The breeze was from the NE and proved very helpful as the total crossing from our camp on Jura to landfall on the western tip of Oronsay was 19km.]

 Soon the hills of Jura, and away to the north, Scarba slipped astern.

 Even the mighty Paps of Jura diminished as we reached a third of the way across and...

 ...could look straight down the Sound of Islay.

 In mid crossing the wind increased to the top of a F3 gusting F4 and...

 ...we revelled in the wonderful conditions.

Sam does not yet have a sail but he has the benefit of youth and as huge set of Double Dutch paddles.

Even so, at this point the paddle sailors had to back off a bits o that we stuck together.

 Slowly the low isle of Colonsay began to take shape. Forty seven km away to the north it was Ben More on Mull that dominated the horizon at 967m.

The eastern beaches looked inviting but were exposed to a cold NE wind so we paddled in behind the reef of Leac Bhuidhe into...

 ...a sheltered lagoon used by our ancestors. Indeed we landed below one of their rubbish dumps. The giant shell mounds date from the mesolithic age when humans first visited theses islands some 7,500 years ago as the spread north and west as the Ice Age retreated. The mounds are mostly composed of limpet shells but there are also bones of deer, dolphins and great auks.

We made landfall on this pristine beach much as our ancestors had done. Like them we were...

...ready for luncheon!

Paddling and portaging in the wake of the dead.

Our original intention had been to paddle the Small Isles at the beginning of May but a last minute increase in the forecast NE winds caused us to head further south for a trip out to Oronsay and Colonsay via Jura. It is just as well we did. My brother Donald (who we had arranged to meet on Eigg) has a large inflatable with a 25HP outboard and he had committed to the Small Isles but spent 3 days and two nights on Canna stormbound. So David, Ian, Maurice, Sam and I met at Carsaig Bay on the Sound of Jura. We were bound for Tarbert Bay on Jura where we would portage across into West Loch Tarbert, following the route of the wealthy dead of Argyll as their bodies were carried out to the Holy Isles of either Oronsay or Iona.

The Paps Of Jura rose enticingly above the low headland which encloses Carsaig Bay.

Due to the last minute change in venue we were just too late to catch the north east going flood tide in time to get through the Corryvreckan before the start of the ebb. As a result our rout SW to Tarbert was thwarted by the last of the NE going tide. However, a SW going eddy runs down the delightful channel inside the islands to the SW of Carsaig Bay.

It was very pleasant being carried towards the distant Paps by the swirling waters of the Sound of Jura.

However, all good things come to an end and we set off across the Sound of Jura with the tide carrying us to the NE. We did not bother ferry gliding because the tide was due to turn when we were in mid chanell.

Slack water arrived bang on time and with it the light breeze dropped, leaving a glassy calm.

You can see where the tide changed, mid channel on the first part of our route to the isles (bottom right).

The tide was now in our favour and by the time... 

...we reached the entrance to Tarbert Bay on Jura we were being carried along at 8km/hour.

As we slid into Tarbert Bay, we were following an ancient coffin route from Argyll to the Isles.

So our journey was to follow the route of the dead on their last journey. To avoid the tidal Gulf of Corryvreckan to the north and the Sound of Islay to the south, our bereaved ancestors landed at Tarbert and set off on foot across the narrow isthmus that joins the north and south parts of Jura. Their destination was the head of West Loch Tarbert, a deep sea loch which nearly bisects the island. So we loaded our kayaks onto trolleys and set off in our ancestors footsteps... on the coffin road to the west.

Like them we were heavily laden and rested our kayaks at many of the spots they would have rested their coffins. This ancient standing stone marks the route. It predates Christianity by thousands of years but there is also an ancient chapel nearby where mourners would have said prayers for the safe journey of the departed to the next world and for their own safe return from their journey to the isles.

After a long hard portage it was a relief to see the head of the loch and that the tide was still in.

The head of West Loch Tarbert drains almost completely so it is worth timing your arrival for round HW, which is 40 minutes after Oban HW. There is a narrow sea gorge to manoeuvre through to exit the inner loch. The tide runs through it at 8 knots springs so you better set off on the ebb! Just as we were leaving, the local resident laird, Andrew Fletcher, his wife and daughters passed by. They gave us big smiles and welcoming waves. 

It is a most wonderful feeling of lightness getting back in a boat after a laden portage. Our passage was assisted by both the ebb tide and a gentle NE breeze. We had to press on as to achieve our goal of circumnavigating Colonsay, before David had to return to work. We had to get as far down West Loch Tarbert as possible and it was already 18:45!

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

Landfall on Jura

 Ian, Mike and myself met at Carsaig Bay on the west coast of Argyll on the morning of Tuesday 19th April 2016. Our original intention had been to set off on the preceding weekend but we are not masochists and it was so windy that many of the ferries were not operating on the Monday.

You can follow Ian's account starting here for the full sea kayaking stereovision experience.

 We set off as the tide was flooding northwards.

The Paps of Jura (27km away to the SW) rose above the headland guarding the south side of Carsaig Bay.

As we emerged from Carsaig Bay we caught sight of the low north end of Jura stretching away to the bulk of its northern neighbour the isle of Scarba. Our destination was the Gulf of Corryvreckan which lies between the two.

A very light breeze got up which...

...filled our sails as we paddle sailed straight across the Sound. In the hour of the crossing the tide carried us 5km up the coast of Jura where we...

...made landfall at Port Ban Mhic-a-Phi.  After our keels kissed the pale cobbles of the beach we stepped onto the ground of the hallowed isle of Jura, spiritual and actual home of the Jura Superstition which we carried in case of emergencies.

A foggy crossing to Gigalum and why I never go to sea without GPS.

Back on the first of October much of Scotland basked under the blue skies of an Indian summer. Ian and I decided on a short notice camping trip of two nights to Gigha and Cara. When I arrived at Tayinloan on the Kintyre mainland there were stunning blue skies but as Ian arrived thick mist rolled in from the sea. The very stuff that Paul McCartney wrote about when he was staying in his farm just down the road. We decided to take tea and cake at the excellent Ferry Farm Cafe which is adjacent to the ferry car park.

Well fortified, we set off into the fog on a 5km crossing of the Sound of Gigha. I regularly paddle in fog on the Solway and Ian and I have paddled together from Rum to Eigg in thick fog so we didn't think twice about it. I had plotted a waypoint into my GPS that would take us on a course that diverged south of the ferry route by 60 degrees. I had set it for the isle of Gigalum at the south end of Gigha as it would cross the Flat Rocks the Wee  Rocks and Gigalum Rocks on the way. This would expose us to the minimum danger of shipping as anyone with a draught of more than a few inches would keep well clear of these rocks in fog. The ferry captain did ask us about our plans as he was concerned in case he ran us down. However, he was reassured when he heard our plans. Of course both the wind and tide would carry us off course but I had set my GPS to give the bearing from our current position to the waypoint on Cara. As we crossed if the bearing dEcreased we went lEft and if it Increased we went rIght.

Half way across, the mist thinned just for a moment and we were lucky to experience this wonderful fogbow.

We caught sight of something in the mist. The fog magnifies everything and Ian thought it was an island with trees but it was just Gigalum rock with some cormorants on it. We were bang on course and Ian called the ferry captain on the VHF and let him know our exact position. We could hear his engine rumbling well to the north.

 Shortly afterwards we arrived at Gigalum and...

...a hazy sun put in a brief appearance as we paddled through the amazing Gigalum skerries. There was no chance of getting run over in the fog here. Many very experienced sea kayakers are disparaging of GPS and never use it. Pn the contrary, I never go to sea without a GPS (actually I have two, my phone is a backup). Of course on this crossing I was also using my compass, map, ears, nose, sense of what the wind was doing (and the smells it carried) and sense of what the tide was doing. I suspect that some of those who chose not to use GPS do so because they have not taken the effort to learn how they work and understand their advantages and disadvantages.