A fourth luncheon on the machair at Silver Sands

We stopped on the southern side of the Silver Sands of Smirisary and...

...made our way up the shore to the...

...closely cropped machair which backs the beach. Here, below a rapidly sinking sun, we partook of our 4th luncheon which we washed down with a not ungenerous snifter of 12year old Caol Isla.

After our comestibles had been suitably dwindled, it was time for a...

..post prandial perambulation over the machair to the headland where we took in the view to the Small Isles to the west and...

 ...to Rubh Arisaig and Skye to the north.

 We left Silver Sands and paddled north until we could...

 ...turn to the east and enter the Sound of Arisaig.

The sun was setting as we paddled on towards Glenuig Bay where we drew the boats up in the gathering darkness. Sadly there would be no further luncheons on this day.

A lazy first luncheon at Smirisary.

26/3/2017

 When we emerged from the Sound of Arisaig we turned south along the rough coast of Moidart  and the ancient hamlet of Smirisary.

It was low water and we passed to the inside of many of the reefs that create notorious boomers at high water.

Amongst the dark rocks which tumbled from the steep mountains, we spotted a flash of white shell sand..

 Donald in the F-Rib had already arrived...

 ...by the time we slid over turquoise channels of water...

...between dark beds of kelp and...

 ...landed on the white sands.

First luncheon was a lazy affair...

...which gave plenty of time to enjoy the view...

...before setting off to...

...explore the machair...

...backed beaches of Smirisary.

Baked Bramley apples at a Shian Bay Sunset.

As the sun in the west sank behind distant Colonsay...

 ...it illuminated the moors of Jura to the east with a warm red light. A full moon rose into a cold blue sky above the misty hills beyond the moor.

We gradually gathered round the fire with our sports recovery drinks. Camp raconteur David kept Sam amused with tales such as how he had rolled more cars than kayaks!

 We were all set for a most convivial evening but...

 ...Ian and I made our temporary excuses as we...

 ...photographed the last of the sunset in the hope of capturing a green flash.

As we made our way back up to the camp, a cold mist began to roll down towards us from the Jura  mountains.

Gradually it spread across the near full moon, which was now high in the sky. Ian and I delighted in telling Maurice that as the full moon meant the tides were at springs, it would be an exciting trip through the great Gulf of Corryvreckan in the morning. As Morris had not been through the Corryvreckan before, his face visibly paled in the moonlight, as we continued to wind him up with tales of giant waves and whirlpools....

 Soon the cold mist wrapped around us making everything wet with condensation.

We were glad of the warmth of the fire. David and Sam had to sit ever closer on their bench seat as Ian and I continued to cut the ends off to keep the fire going to ensure...

...cooking of Ian's new signature dish...baked Bramley apples with clotted cream and sprinkled with cinnamon. 

Life really does not get much better than this. For us it is the essence of sea kayaking. Using a small boat to voyage and navigate yourself to remote, special places gives a real sense of adventure and achievement. Alternatively, we could have signed up for Saga Holidays "thrilling tour and cruise adventure for the over 50's" to Machu Picchu and the Galapagos Islands for £5,000 each (well Sam might not have been eligible as he is in his twenties). :o)

Read Ian's account here.

Hebridean boules on the machair of Jura.

We got our camp set up on Shian Bay on the west coast of Jura in plenty of time before darkness. In the distance, you can just see Oronsay and Colonsay where we had camped the previous night. We swam in the sea (cold) or the river (warm) behind the machair to freshen up after the long crossing.

We had plenty of time to scour the beach for driftwood of which there was an abundance. There was a solitary fire ring on the huge expanse of machair backing the bay. We do not normally have fires on the machair but there was a pre-existing fire ring with some large logs and planks arranged as seating. As the damage had already been done (apparently it was built by a recent party organised by the estate owners) we decided, on this occasion, to use the local facilities.  We were careful not to move the stones in case the damage got larger.

 I used my exceedingly sharp Japanese folding saw to make a  woodpile from the logs and posts we had gathered on the beach. Some of the logs had been bored by some sort of marine worm and they smelled absolutely disgusting. Camp chores completed, it was now...

...recreation time! We gathered some fishing floats from the beach and started our game of Hebridean boules.

 As you see, we are quite good at it!

The sun setting slowly into the haze over Colonsay to the west finally brought the games to a close.

Read Ian's account here.

A washed up whale and an adequate supply of washed up wood on the machair of north Colonsay.

On the third day of our Colonsay adventure we woke early due to beautiful sunshine which had warmed the tent as soon as the sun rose over the low hills to the east.

It is always easier to pack on the third morning. We had burned logs and barbecue coals which we had brought and eaten and drunk quite a few of our consumables. On a sea kayak camping trip we burn about 5,500 Calories a day!

 It was most gratifying to see how flat our launch would be.

In contrast, this is what our last visit to Kiloran Bay was like. We got our faces wet on that launch!

The feeling of lightness once on the water is always a joy after the effort of humphing the camping gear and loaded boats to the water.

We set off on a very flat sea and hoped to do some close quarter coastal exploring which had not been possible on our previous visit. We hoped to find a one kayak wide rocky channel that leads into a hidden sandy lagoon near the north end of Colonsay.

At first things looked pretty promising but...

...we had not gone far when we were reminded that the Atlantic is never flat for long. Look at David, to the right of Sam, to get some idea of the scale of this growler.

Fortunately the swell did not increase too much and it was very...

...exhilarating paddling along this remote coast with...

...the sun sparkling and the roar of the surf washing the dark rocks.

Unfortunately there was too much swell to land at Port Sgibinis and inspect the Balnahard Whale, which can be easily seen in this remarkable image from Bing Maps. It is a huge artwork by Julian Meredith who has invited visitors to fill in the outline of the whale with cobbles from the raised beach.

Any disappointment was short lived when we arrived at Pol Ban, a lagoon hidden behind some offshore islets and skerries. A combination of the direction of the swell and low water meant the lagoon was protected. We paddled into several of its recesses until we found...

...the narrow channel which led to...

...the sands backed by machair beyond.

One by one we wended our way into this remote part of Colonsay.  No road reaches this far...

..as a steep line of  cliffs cut this tiny northern part of Colonsay from the rest of the island to the south. On our last visit these cliffs were home to many red billed choughs but there were none on this day.

We left the boats in the creek and...

...made our way up to the machair where we discovered...

...a great many huge weathered logs. Colonsay has no trees of this size so where had they come from? Almost certainly...

...these trees grew in North America and had entered the Atlantic via the St Lawrence river before the long crossing to the Hebrides on the North Atlantic Drift. If logs like this are washed up on an inhabited part then they do not last long as they are a coveted source of fuel, which helps see islanders through the long Scottish winter. These trunks have survived as they are just too large and too difficult to get to. We must come back and camp here sometime. The wood supply looks adequate even for our pyrotechnic needs.

On the east side of this isthmus of machair another inlet offers the possibility of landing in calm weather above half tide. The sun was now high in the sky and it was getting hot. Maurcice said he was dying for a drink but was a bit short of water. Sam said he still had some in his water bottle back at the kayak. Mention of a libation brought a twinkle to...

...David's eye. "Isn't Colonsay the island with a brewery?"

Without further ado, we made our way back to the boats!