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!

Between a rock and a hard place on the wild west cost of Colonsay.

We set off from Oronsay up the west coast of Colonsay with Ben More on Mull away to the north.

On our previous visit in 2010 there had been a bit of a swell running and we had to keep well out beyond the skerries.

This time it was a joy to wend our way through rocky channels and past white sand beaches. Sometimes we had to reverse out of blind channels which was all part of the fun.

A week of NE winds had flattened the Atlantic swell.

Soon we were passing beneath the rocky ramparts of Dun Ghallain on the summit of which an Iron Age hill fort once stood.

Beyond Dun Ghallain we left the last of the sandy bays behind...

..and entered a more committing part of the coastline.

Far beyond these rocky reefs...

...to the west, Labrador was the next landfall.

To the east the coastline of Colonsay had become an unbroken and unyielding wall of rock. We still had a long way to go.

Read Ian's account here.

Securing a furled Flat Earth kayak sail when launching in surf.

One of the beauties of the Flat Earth Kayak Sails rig is its simplicity. Apart from the stays (the forestay act as the uphaul) and the sheet there are no other lines such as kicking strap (vang) between mast and boom or Cunningham (tack) downhaul line which are found in more complex rigs. However, this does mean that there is not a lot holding the sail and boom down on the mast. The boom gooseneck is not fixed to the mast  but slides over and is free to rotate round it.

Many people are worried that launching in surf with a furled sail on deck will result in a wave washing the sail and boom clean off the top of the mast. There are various solutions on the internet. Some advocate a large quick release cable tie round the boom just above the gooseneck. Well I tried that and there is not enough friction it just slides up.

Others have devised a number of complex ties that hold the boom down but these can get tangled up and interfere with boom rotation.

My solution is very simple.  Once the sail is furled I just tighten the sheet and cleat it. This prevents the sail from sliding up the mast. In this photo the bow is at the right and the sheet is the thick red line which is tight and leads back to the cockpit cleat on the left. Just remember to let the sheet off before launching the sail.

If the wind is off or cross off shore, there is an even better solution. Keep the sail up in the wind and out of the surf and use it to power out, great fun!

The bar at Morar was not dry.

Morar Bay is famous for its dazzling silvery white sands but it was a rather grey...

...day and, together with noise from the road, the train, a chain saw and...

...even a passing Hercules, I was concerned that Ian and Mike might not get the best impression of this beautiful spot.

So as we passed one of the stunning beaches on its north shore I described to them what it was like when the sun shone. This was on a previous trip and I enjoyed wonderful views to the Small Isles of Eigg and Rum (Canna is just visible to the left of Eigg) across the dazzling sands and turquoise water.

As the current carried us down between the sand banks the sounds of civilisation faded away leaving only the calls of the many wading birds. The mournful call of the curlew contrasted with the pip of the oystercatchers.

The ebb was running strongly at the shallow bar across the mouth of the bay where it met the incoming wind it created some standing waves. Normally at this point you would be captivated by the outline of Eigg on the horizon (just visible through the mist) but this time we concentrated on...

Photo by Ian Johnstone

...having fun in the small waves. We certainly got our faces wet on Morar bar.

The smell of the sea hung in the air of Garbh Eileach.

We paddled across the channel which separates Dun Chonnuill  from Garbh Eilleach which is the biggest and roughest of the Garvellachs group of islands. Its name means Rough Island and though its NE tip is pleasantly wooded it...

 ...generally lives up to its name, as we discovered when we started to paddle down the steep cliffs which...

 ... line its exposed NW shore. The island is nearly...

  ...split in two at one point, at a gap called Bealach an Tarabairt, though I can't imagine anyone wanting to portage the rough ground. (A place name of "Tarbert" or similar usually means a portage.)

 Towards the SW end of Garbh Eileach the lazy swell was surging up the dark rocks...

...and exploding in cascades of spray, which drifted in the still air and cooled us. The smell of the sea hung in the air and our nostrils.