The economics of going on a safari adventure.

25/03/2017

After our first luncheon it was time to return to the boats. This is the P&H Scorpio HV Mk2 in CoreLite X. It is very large but supremely comfortable and as can be seen from the previous post, made an excellent stable platform for photographing bottlenose dolphins. Talking of which...

...no sooner had we launched than we were pounced upon by the pod which had been lying in ambush just offshore.

The tide had turned and the wind had got up, creating some wonderful kayaking conditions off the headlands. The flying spray, the sunshine the motion of the boats and leaping dolphins made for a simply unforgettable experience.

Unfortunately I did not risk taking my SLR out  and my little Olympus TG4 camera had so much shutter lag that I  ended up with a lot of photos of splashes where the dolphins had been. Despite the lack of photos this was an even more intense experience as the dolphins were also revelling in the rough water. They would suddenly appear out of our wave and flash across our bows before reappearing just ahead of us. It seemed that they were leading us to the shelter...

...of Port nam Murrach. Once we were safe in the calm of the bay, the dolphins disappeared for good.

Back on dry land we could hardly believe how lucky we had been to experience such a wild life safari and spectacle. You could spend thousands of pounds travelling across the world for such experiences. We had woken in our own beds that morning and so far it had just cost 13 litres of diesel fuel (£17) on the drive up. Donald had spent maybe another £2 to put petrol in his 6hp outboard.

Pleased with our economical adventuring, we wandered round this delightful spot at the edge of the Sound of Arisaig. I have in the past travelled the World and been lucky to get to many amazing places off the beaten tourist track but sometimes you do not need to go far, especially if you live on the west coast of Scotland. Another factor for me is the cost of health insurance to travel out with the UK. Last year it was £1,100!

In the distance the long finger of Ardnamurchan stretched away to the west, beyond the sparkling waters of the Sound of Arisaig to the Sea of the Hebrides beyond.

 It was with some reluctance that we made our way back to the turquoise waters of the bay but...

 ..our friends would be shortly arriving and so we set off...

 ...across the Sound of Arisaig again with the ...

...sun rapidly dipping in the west.

Taking a break at Red Rock.

After transiting the Corryvreckan, we arrived in the Sound of Jura. The ebb tide had built rapidly and we were making 10km/hr with little paddling effort. Our destination was our starting point at Carsaig Bay. This lay 12.5km down tide but 6.5km across tide on the far side of the Sound of Jura. It did not take a mathematician...

...to calculate that we needed to paddle across the sound at a high ferry angle to avoid...

 ...being swept past our destination and out to the open sea beyond.

So we paddled almost straight across the Sound so that the vector of our paddling and the tide would take us safely to our destination. The Paps of Jura seemed to get nearer very quickly!

Fortunately there is a good marker of whether we were making sufficient progress. The tide swept islet of Ruadh Sgeir (Red Rock), with its little lighthouse, lies in the middle of the Sound of Jura and is in a straight line between the Corryvreckan and Carsaig Bay.

Despite being carried along at 11km/hr as we approached the lonely rock, we managed to cross uptide of it so we were bang on course. It was a beautiful evening and despite being very tired...

...we enjoyed passing so close to this  seldom visited little rock with its views to the Paps of Jura. Sam and I even revelled in breaking out of the tide into the eddy on the far side of the rock....

Some edge control was required to break back into the stream that was running round the rock at 14km/hr! The tide then continued to carry us on towards Carsaig Bay and the end of our journey.

A traverse of the Gulf of Corryvreckan disturbed only by a shoal of fish.

As we set off from Glengarrisdale Bay towards the Gulf of Corryvreckan which lies between the isles of Jura and Scarba...

...the morning's cold front began to clear leaving...

...Glengarrisdale in full sunshine.

Colonsay and Oronsay were now distant bumps on the horizon behind us.

All attention was now on the western entrance of the Corryvreckan ahead. As we approached, we could still see breaking standing waves on either side of Eilean Mor but our timing was impeccable and...

 ...as we slid our bows into the jaws of the 'vreckan, it had fallen fast asleep.

In fact at one point the water was so slack we had to resort to paddling.  However, within 5 minutes of slack water we were travelling at...

...8km/hr with minimal paddling effort. Even Maurice began to relax due to the mill pond conditions as we crossed the mouth of Bagh Gleann nam Muc (Bay of the Glen of Pigs) and inside Eilean Beag. It is at this point that unstable standing waves appear at the end of the flood (especially if there is any swell from the west) and a race and anomalous waves develop during the ebb.

All of a sudden the water beside Maurice's boat began to boil and he nearly jumped out of his dry suit. He thought the tides were about to engulf him. However, it  was just a large shoal of fish driven to the surface by either the tide or a predator such as a seal or a cetacean.

 Leaving the Bay of Pigs our speed increased to...

...12km per hour as we approached Carraig Mhor and a quick glance astern...

...showed that Eilean Mor was already over 2km behind.

This telephoto shot through the Corryvreckan shows our last distant view of Colonsay on the horizon beyond Eilean Mor.

As we rounded Carraig Mhor, the narrowest part of the Corryvreckan, at 14km/hr David had his sail up and then proceeded to take his legs out for a stretch. Sam's only comment was "Legend!"

I have been through the Corryvreckan many times but this was easily the calmest. Just in case you think it is always like this, have a look at...

...this photo, taken when Tony and I were entering the Corryvreckan from the NW, it might just give you second thoughts..

As we passed Port nam Furm at the east end of the Corryvreckan, we entered the Sound of Jura and the last leg of our journey to Jura, Oronsay and Colonsay.

Waiting for the Corryvreckan tide at Glengarrisdale.

As we were finishing second breakfast, the chilly silence of Corpach Bay was broken by the rumble of engines. The SC Nordic, a Danish pallet carrier of 4,786 gross tonnage, was making her way NE between Colonsay and Jura towards the Sound of Mull. She was enroute from Greenock on the Clyde to Skogn in Trondheimsfjorden, Norway. Soon she was out of earshot and silence again fell over the bay of the dead (Corpach Bay).

 Once on the water again, too much north in the wind kept our sails furled but steady progress...

...saw the brooding bulk of Scarba increasingly dominate our view ahead.

Scarba marks the northern side of the fearsome Gulf of Corryvreckan and its steep slopes plunging into the rushing tides add to the intimidating nature of the place...but more of that later.

We were able to launch the sails again as the onshore breeze backed to a tight reach. Above the rough hills our eyes were drawn to...

 ...the magnificent sight of a pair of...

 ...white tailed sea eagles soaring on the same onshore wind (which we were paddle sailing in) creating an up draught above the slope.

This one either had a white tag on its wing or was missing some feathers. Maurice was amazed. He had gone from never having seen a sea eagle to seeing 4 within 24 hours. It did occur to me that this might be the same pair that we had seen the previous day, some 25km to the west on the east coast of Colonsay. However, they are lazy big birds and once they have a mate and territory they tend not to stray far. On average a sea eagle's territory is about 8km in diameter.

 There are very few places to land on this rough coast pathless which is the domain...

...of these nimble goats.

Neither Maurice nor Sam had been through the Corryvreckan before and they fell behind in some deep discussion about what to expect.

Neither of them seemed convinced....

 ...by my reassurances that it would be flat as a pancake, especially as we drew ever nearer to the Gulf. Perhaps this was because the previous evening, Ian and I had given a dramatic account of our last trip through the Corryvreckan.  This had involved breaking standing waves and moving backwards. This was despite paddling forward at full pelt, the tide had turned against us and threatened to carry us back the way we had just come.

On this trip, the west going spring flood was still in full flow at 8 knots and as we wanted to traverse the Gulf to the east it was time for a sharp...

 ...exit to the right, where we entered Glengarrisdale Bay where the eponymous...

 ...red roofed bothy lay at the back of the bay. It would make an ideal shelter from the cold wind for our three hour wait for the tide to turn.

 So we landed on the sands of the bay and...

 ...warmed up by carrying the boats well up the beach...

...so that we would be sure the tide would not carry the boats away during an extended Glengarrisdale luncheon.