Total silence in the Sound of Arisaig at sunset.

25/03/2017 

On our return across the Sound of Arisaig we initially had a decent breeze to assist our progress but

 ..as the sun sank in the west and Rois-Bheinn took on a warm glow, the...

 ...wind dropped to nothing. Donald's little F-Rib had long since landed, leaving Mike and myself in total silence in the middle of the Sound.

We were in no hurry and reflected on what a great afternoon we had just enjoyed. Our reverie was broken by the sound of a naturally aspirated 3 litre straight six petrol engine rising and falling along the twisty road from Loch Ailort. It could only be David and Phil arriving from Ayrshire so..

..we pressed on and pulled the boats up from low tide in Glenuig Bay to the Inn where we...

 ...wasted no time in ordering a round of sports recovery drinks. David and Phil were of course very disappointed to have missed the dolphins....

It may have only been a short afternoon trip but it turned out to be one of the most memorable days on the water, ever!

Looks like trouble at the Isle of Tears, Sound of Arisaig.

25/03/2017

Last March Mike, Donald (AKA The Gurnard) and I arrived at the Glenuig Inn on the south coast of the Sound of Arisaig. Our friends were not due to arrive until the evening but as we had arrived at midday, we wasted no time on getting on the water. I was keen to try out the new P&H Scorpio HV mk2 in CoreLite X.

Donald soon had the little F-RIB 275 on the plane and he disappeared towards the north side of the Sound...

 Leaving Mike and I to make the crossing at a more relaxed pace. As we left Glenuig Bay the mountains of Rum lay ahead while we left...

 ...the bulk of mighty Roshven 882m in our wakes.

 Soon we were alone in the silence of the middle of the Sound but as we...

..approached the lonely isles and reefs of Eilean an t-Snidhe (Isle of tears) we heard the sound of Donald's...

 ...outboard approaching at speed. He zoomed past us...

...and circled right round us gesticulating madly at the water.

 Mike and I really did not know what was going on but suspected there must be trouble ahead.

End of day in Carsaig Bay.

As we left the lonely rock of Ruadh Sgeir the tide was still carrying us back towards Carsaig Bay and as it was nearing the end of our expedition, it was nice to take a break from paddling. The light was beautiful and...

 ...we enjoyed views to the Paps of Jura which had dominated the horizon on much of our trip.

Nearing the end, we broke out of the tide into the sheltered inlet behind Carsaig Island.

 We had to start paddling again but...

...the water was calm and we enjoyed the warmth of some late evening sun.

At the SW end of the channel we came across the lovely wooden yacht Wild Rose. We had last seen her in Tinker's Hole on the Ross of Mull and off the west coast of Iona the previous year.

 As we cleared the SW end of Carsaig Island, the Paps of Jura briefly came into view for the last time until...

 ...our journey came to an end at Carsaig Bay on the Argyll mainland. It was from here we had set off 4 days previously.  Ian, Sam and I had originally intended camping out one last night further down the Sound of Jura...

...(at a delightful spot I had camped at in 2003, see above) but I was done. I was waiting for treatment for a significant health problem and I had run out of steam. I was grateful that Ian made the decision to stop at Carsaig Bay and stay the night at the nearby commercial campsite in Tayvallich. Despite the wonderful location, overlooking the Sound of Jura, I really could not have faced another night and morning of unloading and loading boats.

It was a bittersweet moment, unloading our boats in the sunset for the last time. Sad because it was the end of an unforgettable trip but happy because we were already sharing great memories.

Although Maurice and David were driving home that night, we all had dinner in the Tayvallich Inn. The staff very considerately took our food orders well past their normal last order time (we had forewarned them of our late arrival).

 So Maurice, David, myself, Sam and Ian enjoyed our last supper together on this trip. We recounted some great experiences but above all, a successful sea kayaking trip (like so many things in life) is greatly enhanced by those you share it with.

Over the four days we covered 140km on our sea kayaking pilgrimage to Oronsay and Colonsay via Jura. Unfortunately it was to prove to be my only sea kayak camping trip in 2017 but what a trip it was! :o)

Read Ian's account here.

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.

Perfect paddle sailing past the Paps of Jura.

We set off from Colonsay on the short 16km crossing to Jura. The Paps of Jura increasingly dominated...

...the eastern horizon as the favourable breeze pushed...

 ...our little fleet steadily east.

Sam unfortunately had no sail so he just had to...

 ...put his head down and paddle hard while...

 ...the others could take it easier and enjoy the view.

 About half way across we could make out...

 ...the fine white strand of our destination on Jura's wild and remote west coast at Shian Bay (Bay of the Tempest).


For once we had arrived while the sun was still relatively high in the sky, so we looked forward to a more relaxed setting up of camp.

Read Ian's account here.

A cuckoo in every cove, flapping sails and giant wings on the NE coast of Colonsay.

It was with some reluctance that we dragged ourselves away from Balnahard strand on the NE tip of Colonsay.

Once we cleared the point, our flapping sails caught...

...the wind and fair breeze filled them taught. We made such good progress down the coast that...

 ...the distant Paps of Jura heaved ever higher above the eastern horizon.

Sam, being the youngest, had to suffer the handicap of not having...

...a sail...

...to help with his progress. Each rocky cove we passed seemed to have a cuckoo calling, which added to...

...the atmosphere of paddling this wild place. The  NE coast of Colonsay is rocky and backed by rough heather covered slopes interspersed with scrubby patches of deciduous woodland. There are few,...

 ...if any, places to land. Maurice was remarking that despite sea kayaking for years, he had never seen a sea eagle.

 "What, like that one? said Ian and only a moment later...

 ...David said "Or that one!"

Sea eagles are lazy big birds and they only flapped their great wings a few times before landing just 100m along the coast. Unfortunately for them, they landed beside a pair of broody oyster catchers who vocally and bravely expressed their displeasure by "pip, pip, pipping" as they fluttered above their giant but lethargic new neighbours.

"Well you can hardly top that" said Ian until...

...a golden eagle soared high over the ruins of the appropriately named...

...Riasg Buidhe (Golden Moor). You can read more about this abandoned fishing village in this post about our previous visit. It is possible to land at the head of a gully above high tide. Unfortunately it was low tide and the once cleared gully bed is now full of boulders. So we continued on our way to Scalasaig, the main port on Colonsay.

Read Ian's account here.