Across the Kilbrannan Sound to the King's Cave.

Tony and I set off on a 10 km crossing of the Kilbrannan Sound from Carradale Bay in Kintyre towards the...

 ...west coast of Arran.

We made landfall on a wooded shore which lies...

 ...just to the north of a sandstone cliff. The cliff rises above a raised beach.

 During and after the last Ice Age the sea level was higher and a dramatic...

...series of caves and arches were cut into the relatively soft rock. The largest is called King's Cave and is one of several rival caves in Scotland and Ireland which lay claim to being the one in which Robert the Bruce was inspired by a spider.

We decided to stop and explore. I was particularly glad that Tony hopped out first. My knees are not too good...

...on slippery green stuff like this.

Big boats and wee boats, all headed for Ailsa Craig!

It was an overcast morning when Ian and I met at Lendalfoot on the Ayrshire coast for a trip out to Ailsa Craig. It was actually my third trip of the year but Ian had missed the last trip so any excuse as they say. We were not the only ones interested in the Craig. The cruise liner MV Discovery beat us too it despite Ian's 04:30 start from Aberdeenshire!

A telephoto lens makes Ailsa Craig appear tantalisingly close but it is...

...14.2km from Lendalfoot. We are not fast paddlers and normally allow 2hours 45minutes for the crossing.  The cloud of the early morning soon...

...burned off and it proved to be a hot crossing.

Slowly, slowly Ailsa Craig spreads over...

 ...the western horizon and detail such as...

...the castle and the lighthouse.

A roar broke the peace of the morning which had only been disturbed by the dripping of our paddles. It was...

...the high speed ferry en route from Troon to Larne.

The best place to land is the spit of granite rubble which extends to the east of the Craig. The smallest boulders are on the north of the spit but in early season grey seals haul out here and it is best to land on the SE of the spit.

As we approached we could see no seals and so we decided to land on the north of the spit just as...

MV Glorious the tour boat from Girvan was arriving.

Wuite a bit of tide runs past the spit and we were so taken by the scenery that we rather overshot the spit on our final approach.

We delayed a little to allow the wash from the high speed ferry to subside, you can see how high up the beach  the waves reached.

We hauled the up to a ledge on the storm beach but not before Ian's kayak escaped and shot down the steep beach into the see. Ian has better knees than I and he leapt after it catching it just before it glided out of reach.

We enjoyed our lunch in the sun as the passengers on the tour explored the lighthouse area and the crew of Glorious had their tea.

Fog, Hercules, porpoise and greylag on the morning run to Inchmarnock.

We paddled round the north coast of  the Cock of Arran until our GPS showed the distance to our next waypoint on the isle of  Inchmarnock had stopped falling. 

We then set off on the second crossing of the day. The south end of Inchmarnock was 9km across the Sound of Bute but although the sky was clearing there was still fog at sea level and...

 ...there was not a sign of Inchmarnock on the horizon.

We set off on a compass bearing but shortly after leaving the coast of Arran the GPS showed the flood tide was drifting us to port so we continued on a ferry angle to starboard.

A roar of turboprop engines while we were mid-crossing announced the arrival of this RAF Hercules transport plane. They must have enjoyed a nice tour of the SW of Scotland as my wife saw it flying over the Solway Firth (125 km distant) a little earlier in the day.

 Just as the mist cleared allowing us to see Inchmarnock a solitary porpoise surfaced ahead of us.

At last the skies cleared revealing the...

 ...bright quartzite beach at the south end of Inchmarnock. The heat of the day was building and we had chosen to wear dry suits for the open crossings as the water temperature was only 7.5 degrees C and the wind had been forecast to get up to F4 southerly.The wind never appeared with the result was that we were boiled in the bag. The air temperature was 18C on the coast (24C inland) and it was the hottest day of the year so far.

As we approached the reefs of Inchmarnock a flight of greylag geese passed by. These large geese are not resident in the Clyde and migrate further north in the summer. It was the 29th of April and the other species of migratory geese had long since gone. The greylags do lag behind the other geese somewhat as they are always the last to leave in the spring.

Forty minutes in the natural theatre of the Kilbrannan Sound.

In the middle of the Kilbrannan Sound  the fog slowly began to clear and we could at last see which way we were going.

This guillemot seemed surprised to see us at it emerged from a thick patch of fog but it not been responsible for the haunting calls that came from an undefinable direction in the mist. Those had come from an unseen diver.

 Slowly the mountains of Arran began no emerge from the fog and we could...

...identify the hills to the south of Catacol.

 We now experienced one of the most wondrous sights we have ever experienced while crossing to Arran.
Slowly the small gap in the fog opened revealing clear blue sky to the south.

  It was as if a celestial zipper was being undone as the fog...

 ...steadily pulled back revealing....

 ...more and more of the...

 ...mountainous west Arran coast.

As we were paddling at about the same speed and direction as the receding edge of the fog, it was like being in a day of two halves and we were on the dividing line.

 At first we continued paddling in the shade but ever so slowly the edge of the fog...

 ...pulled away in front leaving us...

in full sun. We were speechless with wonder and appreciation of this natural show in the theatre of the Kilbrannan Sound. Any applause would have been both unnecessary and would have broken the spell that held us captivated on this unforgettable crossing. From the time that a peak first loomed out of a break in the fog, to when we finally entered full sunshine, this natural performance lasted for forty minutes. Those special forty minutes will last in our memories for ever.

For the full StereoVision experience see Ian's account here.

Not properly attired for the Firth of Lorn.

 As we paddled away from the cliffs of Mull's Laggan peninsula the wind gradually dropped. We had expected a rough crossing and so we had put our cags on. The salty sweat from our foreheads stung our eyes and it became difficult to see in the glare of the midsummer sun.

 As the heat of the day built on the long crossing, it was therefore with great relief...

 ...that we took off our cags and stashed them away.

As the sun rose high in the sky and the cliffs slipped away behind us, a glassy calm settled on the Firth of Lorn. there was not a breath of wind and not a sound disturbed the still air.