Enchanted again by the remote west coast of Jura.

The sudden feeling of remoteness when you enter West Loch Tarbert on Jura never ceases to surprise.

 Gradually the inner loch narrowed until it looked like we were heading into a dead end...

 ... however a hidden right angled bend took us through the constriction at Cumnann Beag. The tide runs through here at a peak of 8 knots springs.

Once through into the middle part of West Loch Tarbert, the easy option would to have been to stop at the comfortable bothy of Cruib Lodge. However, by doing so we would have committed to a 50+ km following day, if we wanted to get round Colonsay. So we pressed on but...

...once we passed the second narrows at  Cumhann Mor we could not resist stopping at...

...the magnificent raised beach at the entrance to the outer loch. These sparkling clean cobbles are nearly 20m above sea level and though the tide last uncovered them 10,000 years ago, it looks like it just went out yesterday.

It was now getting late and we pressed on down the southern shore of outer West Loch Tarbert.

Seven years previously, Phil and I had scouted out a campsite near Glenbatrick so we decided to check it  out.

It proveed to be a fantastic location for both tents and a view to the west.  We unloaded the boats and set up the tents just as...

 ...a magnificent sun sank below...

...the distant silhouettes of Oronsay and Colonsay on the western horizon.

 After sunset, we prepared our evening meals under the light of a near full moon before...

...washing our things in a nearby river which flowed down from the summit of Beinn Shiantaidh (the Enchanted Mountain) which at 757m is the second highest of the Paps of Jura.

Well over an hour and a half after sunset there remained a deep glow in the west from the departed sun. It was too late to light a fire but we sat round the tents and cracked open flasks of Jura Origin and Caol Ila malt whiskies, which were distilled just 13 and 14 km away on Jura and on the neighbouring isle of Islay respectively. We talked long into darkness, planning for the following day and reminiscing about past expeditions together.

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

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...

Grey Moidart skies and green seas

As we carried the boats to the water's edge, low grey clouds were streaming from the summits of hidden mountains to to our east.

Under the grey skies the shallow water appeared an almost luminous green that matched the green of the machair we had just left.

 Although the clouds were scudding over head we...

 ...were paddling in the lee of the cliffs until...

...we passed the ancient crofting township of Smirisary. "Spade among the rushes" is an evocative book by Margaret Leigh. It describes her hardships trying to recover an abandoned croft here after WW2 as she tried to make a living to support herself and her mother.

 Once past Smirisary our bows began to turn east into the Sound of Arisaig and the wind picked up.

 We got a little respite as we passed close under Rubha Ghead a' Leighe but...

 ...then it was heads down as the easterly wind funnelled out of the Sound of Arisaig.

It was a cold, fitful wind and I could only snatch photos in the short lulls. My hands were numb with the cold and at one point I nearly dropped my camera trying to get a photo of the clouds streaming of the summit of Rois-Bheinn (878m).

Then we arrived in the shelter of Salalaman Bay just as a...

 ...blink of sun provided a moment's warmth before the rain started. It was here where we had left our shuttle car and our journey through and round the lands of Moidart came to an end.

On our previous trip we had left the shuttle car at the head of Loch Ailort. I am glad the weather forecast had accurately predicted the strong easterly!

For whom the bell tolls on `St Finan's Isle.

We arose well before dawn. It was cold in the still morning air by the shore of Loch Shiel. That cold of course is what kept the midges away. A few months earlier and a windless morning like this would have been Shiel hell with midges.

We left the tents up till they were nearly dry and...

 ...loaded the boats all before...

 ...the rising sun's rays hit the beach.

Soon we were back on the loch and as we approached a...

 ...wooded narrowing, we turned a slight bend and  there before us lay...

 ...St Finan's Isle which almost blocks  the loch. It is a moraine island which formed as the glacier which cut Loch Shiel melted depositing its rubble. At one time it probably dammed back the waters of the loch raising the shoreline.

 We landed at the old stone jetty where generations of locals have brought the remains of their dead...

...to be buried within its relatively soft soil.

 Stones of various ages crowd the summit of the isle around the...

 ...ancient walls of St Finan's chapel. It was built in about 1500 by the chief of the Clanranald to  replace an earlier wooden structure. It was abandoned in the late 1600's so was already a ruin by the time Bonnie Prince Charlie came this way in 1745, on his way to Glenfinnan at the head of the loch. Almost certainly the Prince would have stopped here and made his way up to the chapel. St Finan (the leper) was born in Ireland and is thought to have lived between about 520 and 600. Several places in Scotland and Ireland are named after him. He is not to be confused with the later St Finan (of Lindisfarne) who died in 661 after becoming Bishop of Lindisfarne.

At the east end of the chapel lies the altar backed by a recess, which contains a stone cross. On the altar is a remarkable object. It is a Celtic seamless cast bronze bell. Amazingly it has been here for over a thousand years. Nowadays it is chained up but it is amazing that it has survived the millennia without being plundered. Of course there is a dreadful curse attached to the bell and any one who stole it would regret doing so for every second of their few remaining days... During an internment, the bell is taken down to the jetty and rung at the head of the cortège as they slowly make their way up to the waiting grave.

The bell has a remarkably pure tone and it is always a pleasure to ring it. How many objects round us today will still be in full working order in 1,000 years time?

The chapel offered a clear view down the lowland outer loch which contrasted... 

 

...with the mountains that crowded the long inner loch.

All too soon it was time for us to leave the peaceful isle. We could just have paddled past but why race through life? It's those that rush, for whom the bell tolls...

For the full stereo vision experience read Ian's account here: