Catching the tide in the Sound of Islay past a mimetolith in a D cup on Jura

 The south going ebb was still running as we set off across the Sound of Islay towards Jura.

 Not long after we had left Islay the wind...

 ...began to increase from the north but...

 we were able to close reach most of the way across. Away to the SE the mountains of Arran rose above low lying Gigha and the Kintyre peninsula.

 By the time we crossed the Sound the tide had turned and was running  north against the fresh wind.

 Despite the strength of the wind we were soon making...

 ...10km/hr against it due to the power of the north going tide.

 It was an exhilarating ride up the Sound as...

 ...testified by our big grins.

We were not the only ones up early to catch the tide. This yacht motored past us with her main still up but backwinding.

North of Port Askaig the Sound opens up and we could just spot the white Ruvaal lighthouse in the distance.

 The Sound of Islay has several other white landmarks such as the Caol Isla distillery.

 On Jura the quartzite of the Paps rose high above...

 ...a raised beach at the top of dark basalt cliffs.

As we passed the lighthouse at Carragh an t-Sruith (pillar of the current) we could see a team of Northern Lighthouse Board  maintenance workers at the light. They had arrived by RIB from one of the NLB ships which was lying off the south end of the Sound.

 The current was still speeding us north and the...

 ...Paps of Jura made a most magnificent sight as they heaved above the Sound. Perhaps they are the biggest pair of mimetolith we have ever seen? The origin of the name Jura is not clear and there is some disagreement. Some say it is from the Norse word dyrøy (beast) others say it is from the Norse dyr (deer) and others say it is from the Norse jur (udder). I leave it to the reader to decide. As far as I am concerned it's all a storm in a D cup.

 On the Islay side, Ruvaal came ever closer as we passed...

 ...the Bunnahabhain Distillery.

They were still muir burning at the south end of Colonsay and the plume of smoke rose high into the air beyond Ruvall.

 The MV Hebridean Isles ferry was en route from Port Askaig to Colonsay.

 Back on Jura the caves in the cliffs were full of tasty rock doves as...

 ...the peregrine falcon perched on the clifftop would attest.

 Next up came a couple of mimetoliths, the first was a basalt dyke that looked just like an older Queen Victoria wearing a headdress. The next was...

 ...this green pixie.

 It was now time for a rest...

...preferably out the cool north wind...

 ....so we found the ideal spot with our backs to a sheltering dyke where we enjoyed second breakfast.

 We then walked a short distance to  Alt Bun an Eas (burn with the waterfall at its foot) and Ian and...

 Photo by Ian Johnston

...I went for an extremely refreshing dip in its icy waters. Mind you the zing as we dried in the sun afterwards was worth it!

Mike had more sense and simply rinsed the salt off his dry suit!

Rendezvous with a swarm of oxymoronic priapic dykes on the SW coast of Jura

Leaving the mouth of West Loch Tarbert we made our way along the SW shore of Jura towards the northern entrance of the Sound of Islay.

No sooner had we entered the Sound, which is guarded by the Ruvaal Lighthouse on its Islay shore, than this otter popped up right by Mike's bow, what a treat.

As we travelled over the turquoise and ultramarine water of the Sound, the Paps of Jura increasingly...

 ...dominated the landscape, heaving high into the sky above a sea cliff which was now high above the current sea level. Unseen in this photo, there are raised beaches of cobbles above these old cliffs. The land and seascape of Jura is unique, even in a country of such varied geology as Scotland.

The cliffs are broken by a swarm of dykes that march down the hillsides and down into the waters of the Sound.

This particularly fine priapic (if that is not an oxymoron when discussing a dyke) specimen is a potent landmark which can be found to the WNW of Loch na Sgrioba (loch of the furrow).

Jura really is a stunning place to paddle but it was now 14km since we had had a decent stop so we took a break...

...on a little cobbled beach that nestled within a swarm of dykes. We took our second luncheon with our backs to a sun warmed basalt dyke which sheltered us from a cold north wind. We toasted ourselves with a further snifter of Jura Superstion. We had plenty of time as the tide was still running north.

We attempted a little coastal exploration while waiting for the tide to turn.

We managed to get through some arches and ...

...scrambled up some ledges but turned back above these dykes as we were on steep sloping grass that ended above some cliffs.

From our vantage point we spotted a French mine warfare vessel, possibly M642 FS Cassiopée. She was taking part in the Joint Warrior NATO exercise.

Back at the beach, the tide had turned, it was time to set off on the last leg of our journey...

A stinking end to a stunning trip on the north west coast of Jura.

 From Shian Bay to Ruantallain on the west coast of Jura the coastline consists of an...

 ...unbroken wall of raised beaches and dry cliffs caves and arches. At sea level there are sharp reefs in an almost unbroken band for six kilometres.

 Rounding one headland we caught sight of Islay and the northern entrance of the Sound of Islay. The north going spring tide was running until early evening so we planned to wait for the south going tide somewhere on the Jura coastline to the SW of the entrance to West Loch Tarbert.

 This was truly superlative sea kayaking. We paddle sailed almost effortlessly under blue skies...

 ...and sparkling blue seas.

 As we travelled south the Paps of Jura heaved above the horizon. The rain that falls on these...

 ...mounds drains into the burns that are used to make our favoured tipple, Jura malt whisky.

 Headland after...

 ...headland sped by. We did try to land...

 ...at Brein Phort (stinking port) but since the map was drawn, what was shown as sandy beach is now just a boulder beach.

 A little further on we rounded the headland of Ruantallain, which marks the northern boundary of entrance to West Loch Tarbert, a deep sea loch which nearly bisects Jura. Under the cairn on the skyline is the cave of Corpach Rubh' an t-Sailean (place of the corpse at the point of the inlet). This was one of the caves where corpses were stored until safe passage could be made for burial on the holy island of Oronsay. No doubt by the time the corpses could be transported they would be stinking to high heaven. Perhaps that is why the local port was called stinking port, or perhaps it was because the port gathered seaweed washed up after winter storms, who knows?

As we crossed the wide mouth of West Loch Tarbert, the British sail training brig STS Stavros S Niarchos drifted up the Sound of Islay being carried by the tide. She spent the night anchored off Colonsay and we would get a better view of her the next day as she made her way back down the Sound of Islay on her way to her current home port of Greenock.

Tony, Phil and I have crossed wakes with the Stavros S Niarchos several times over recent years such as on this occasion on 24/5/2012 off Ailsa Craig in the Clyde. She is named after a Greek shipping tycoon and philanthropist.

 As the wind sped us down the coast of Jura, we could see a great plume of smoke...

...rising from two muir burns on Colonsay. Impressive though this plume was it would have been dwarfed by the plume when our ancestors visited Colonsay 9,000 years ago. In one autumn they cut down all the hazel trees on the island then roasted all the nuts in a huge fire pit, then left. Scorched earth or what?

When we crossed to the south side of west Loch Tarbert we had covered 9km without a break. We badly needed a stop to stretch our legs so we landed at an unnamed beach beside Rubha Lang-aoinidh (the falsely steep point). Well judging by both Ian's and Mike's  expressions they were rather disappointed at their first arrival on Jura's west coast. Indeed I propose to name this beach. From this day forth, let it be known as not as disappointment beach but as Brein Phort Deas (south stinking beach!). Holey Moley this beach was stinking. In fact it was fair minging. I couldn't see rotting corpses of any ancient Juraburghers so I suppose it was just a collection of rotting seaweed. Whatever, we did not stay and I could see that Ian and Mike both thought the highlight of their day had already passed. However, I knew better, I had been this way before (several times before in fact)!.....