Breaking the spell of the Cailleach Uragaig on the NW coast of Colonsay.

The only break in the rocky ramparts of the NW coast of Colonsay was at Port Ban but reefs at low tide prevent landing much of the time. Even if the swell allowed you land at HW, you would find yourself trapped by the surrounding cliffs. So we paddled on without a sideways glance.

W reserved our sidways glances for the amazing bird colonies which cover these inaccessible cliffs.

Predominantly the species were razorbills and guillemots but there were also plenty of puffins. The air above us was full of whirring wings and...

 ...the sea was covered with rafts of resting birds. Fulmars and kittiwakes were also nesting at the edges of the main colonies and the mournful but atmospheric cries of the kittiwakes echoed round the geos.

The incessant noise of the birds and the smell of the white guano deposits which contrasted with the yellow lichen on the steeper parts of the cliffs left us in no doubt that we were in the environment of the birds. There was no sign of the hand of man, not even a lobster pot.

 We were dwarfed by the scale of the place. It was very reminiscent of paddling round St Kilda. I have been on two boat supported paddling trips there and Ian has been on one. In many ways this was a more intense and close up experience as we had got here from the mainland (some 70km in our wakes) by ourselves.

We were well tired by the time we approached the bold headland of Cailleach Uragaig. Atop the headland rests the grim, grey visage of the Cailleach herself. The Cailleach Uragaig (The Hag of Colonsay) is a Celtic Goddess who has powers to shape shift herself so that she can appear as a hag, a mother or a virgin. She is a winter spirit who ushers in winter by washing her plaid in the Corryvreckan and she can often keep the arrival of spring at bay. On Colonsay she kept a young girl captive to steal her youth. She hid herself from the girl's angry lover by transforming herself into this rocky headland.

Tired sea kayakers always hope that the sands of Kiloran Bay will be just round the corner from the hag but they...

..are still  2km further on.

David was now getting very tired. It was 7pm and we had been paddling all day. David is well into his eighth decade and it is quite remarkable that he still has the stamina for such long trips.  He thought I was being very gentlemanly waiting behind with him but in truth I was not well and having difficulty keeping up with him!

 It really was a relief to paddle into Kiloran Bay where we intended to camp.

As soon as he got out of his kayaking gear David laid himself down on the machair and fell into such a deep sleep that we feared the Cailleach herself had enchanted him and that he might not awake for years! Fortunately we broke the Cailleach's spell, by opening a can of Guinness. The PSSSHT soon had David awake!

Read Ian's account here.

The secret beach at the centre of the marvellous maze of the Moai of Mull.

Once we left the shelter of Balfour's Bay we were soon back in the wind. Donald in the F-Rib went on ahead as we were going to be  exploring some shallow channels.

 It did not take long to reach the maze of islands and reefs of the west coast of Erraid.

 It really is a maze and I had to reassure the others that we were on the right track and there would be a stunning secret beach at the end of it.

 I knew I was on the right track when I spotted the guardian of the beach, one of the Moai of Mull (I had been this way before back in 2007).

 A couple more corners and there it was, the secret beach of the Moai of Mull. As the sun dipped towards Iona in the west our long shadows moved over the bottom of the sandy bay as we...

 ...slid into land on the strip of white shell sand.

 We set off in different directions to explore...

 ...the natural amphitheatre  of pink rocks.

We were grateful our kayaks had allowed us to explore this wonderful spot. But do not feel sorry for Donald in the F-Rib, he was off to the other side of the Sound of Iona exploring the Iona coastline/

 Ian and I climbed to a rocky knoll and surveyed the maze of the Moai of Mull we had just paddled through.

The sea pink looked marvellous against the pink granite rocks.

 Lengthening shadows of sea shells on the sand meant it was time to...

...return to the boats, if we wanted to find our way out of the maze in daylight.

Raising expectations of the stunning raised beaches of West Loch Tarbert, Jura

We paddled on round the west coast of Jura leaving the Sound of Islay behind and entering West Loch Tarbert which nearly bisects the island.

On our way we passed many more basalt dykes which ran down the hillside into the sea. This one looked like Chief Running Deer of Jura complete with war bonnet.

 At this turquoise lagoon the waters were...

 ...crystal clear and we stopped on its...

 ...sands below...

 ...an incredible raised beach which soared up towards the slopes of Beinn an Oir. We had spotted some well seasoned driftwood which had been cast high above the high watermark.

We gathered arm fulls before returning to the boats. We were bound for Cruib Lodge at the head of West Loch Tarbert and we knew there would be little wood there.

The view of the Paps of Jura gradually changed as we entered  West Loch Tarbert and started paddling east.

 Ben More on Mull rose above the Ruantallain peninsula on the north side of the loch as Hazel Ann CN373, a creel boat from Port Askaig motored out of the loch.

 Glen Batrick, a gap in the hills behind the south shore opened up a view of the Paps of Jura again.

 At the mouth of the glen lies Glenbatrick house.  It is locally pronounced Glenabatrick after the original name Glenabedrig. It belongs to Viscount Astor who is David Cameron's stepfather in law. The Camerons have spent several holiday's here, far from the pressures of Westminster.

 From Glenbatrick we paddle sailed east up the outer loch in an...

 ...increasing NW wind. The combination of wind...

 ...sun and spray made for some incredible paddle sailing conditions but we took a break from the fun at...

 ...Rubha nam Meann (headland of the young goat) to explore one of the most intriguing locations on the British coastline.

The cobbles on this beach rise high above the current HW mark and it is one of the best examples of a raised beach in Britain. I have been here many times before but it was Ian and Mike's first visit. As I had raised their expectations and built the place up, I hoped they would not be disappointed.

As you climb towards the summit...

 ...of the beach you are stepping back in time until you reach the...

 ...summit of the beach where the tide last went out some 10,000 years ago.

It is like a time machine because despite the passage of the millennia, the cobbles are as clean as if the tide had just receded that morning. Since the great weight of ice over the land melted, this part of the Earth's crust under Scotland has been steadily rising from the magma below.

There are so many cobbles here that they have created a dam across the glen behind which retains a fresh water loch, Lochan Maol an t-Sornaich, (lochan of the rounded hill of the boulders). No river flows from the loch. Its waters seep gently to the sea through the spaces between the cobbles.

 Near the summit of the beach the largest cobbles are to be found and on some of the oldest specimins ancient colonies of lichen have formed.

There are only a few patches of vegetation that have become established on the beach and when...

...seen from above (photo by me September 2009) they are situated most harmoniously within the landscape showing that Slartibartfast had a good understanding of the principles of Feng Shui. Indeed he was probably the founder of this ancient art which symbolises the harmony between wind and water. 

 Each of us wandered with our own thoughts in the vastness of this quintessential Jura landscape...

...we realised how privileged we were to be able to visit this special place that few of our countrymen are even aware of.  The "paths" across the cobbles were not made by  the feet of men but are where countless generations of deer have picked their way carefully across the beach.

Reluctantly we left this special place where time has stood still.