The liquid canvas of the sea.

As we approached the north of Kerrera the town of Oban came into view on the hillside on the opposite the far side of the island. Snow covered Ben Cruachan, 1126m, towered over the scene.


The sun sank slowly to the SW leaving a horizon of gold and bronze.


Some time after the sun had set the high clouds to the NE took on a wonderful pink light which was reflected by the sea below.


Even the most imaginative artist could not have created such colours as we saw that night, on the liquid canvas of the sea.

The strange case of the missing calves at sunset.

As we approached Eilean na Gamhna (Island of the Calves) the wind dropped to nothing and the sun began to set.


Calves were totally absent from the isle, in their place was a large flock of Canada geese.


Rather than disturb the geese, we paddled round to the other side of the island. There we compared the merits of three different malt whiskies while pondering the strange case of the missing calves. Are Canada geese carnivorous?


While we were in deep contemplation, Tony Hammock of Seafreedomkayak passed by with Keith one of his clients.


By the time we had left the island of the missing calves...


...the sun had set.

Blowing the cobwebs away in the Firth of Lorn.

Continuing on our voyage round Kerrera, we made our way from Gylen Castle to this lovely spot for our first luncheon. The fog was still rolling backwards and forwards down the Firth of Lorn but the magnificent mountains of Mull had broken through into a clear blue sky.


Refuelled, we continued on our way under these interesting cliffs that characterise the geology of the south of the island.


We rounded Rubha na Feudain at the SW corner of Kerrera into a bitingly cold F3-4 N wind. All vestiges of fog were now blown asunder. Through the now crystal clear air, we could see that the summit of Ben More (968m) still had snow, though the lower mountains of Mull were now bare.



We paddled up the NW coast of Kerrera but the dramatic coastline of Mull kept drawing our eyes to the other side of the Firth of Lorn.


Another visit to Mull is definitely overdue....


To the north, the Lismore lighthouse at the southern end of Lismore stood out against the dark mountains of Morvern. The wind began to drop and the sun began to set.

P&H Cetus LV

The staff at seakayakphoto.com have been busy testing the P&H Cetus LV (seen here behind the Cetus) for issue 20 of Ocean Paddler magazine.


So far we have taken it to the Solway, the South Ayrshire coast and here in Loch Creran.


It takes a long time...


...to test a new boat thoroughly...


...but will spare no effort...


...in order to explore its strengths and weaknesses.


All I can say, after just 3 days and 75km, is that we like the stunningly beautiful Cetus LV a very great deal!

Gylen castle and the Brooch of Lorn

We found ourselves exploring the landscape of the south coast of Kerrera. The low sun threw...


...long shadows from a succession of weirdly shaped knolls.


On one knoll stood the dramatic ruins of Gylen castle.


The castle was built about 1587 for the chief of the MacDougall clan. It was in a superb defensive position but it also had some fine architectural features as it was also intended to be a fine residence. Unfortunately there was no defensible water supply and in 1647 the castle fell to a siege by General Leslie of the Covenanter army. All those in the castle were slaughtered and the MacDougalls' talisman, the Brooch of Lorn, was stolen.

The brooch had reputedly been taken from Robert the Bruce after he was defeated in revenge by a MacDougall force following his murder of John Comyn who was a nephew of the MacDougall chief. It was returned to the MacDougalls in 1824 by a neighbour, General Duncan Campbell of Lochnell, who was a descendant of the soldier who stole it. Since then it has been seen in public only once, when the Queen visited Oban in 1956.


Sadly the MacDougalls enjoyed living in Gylen for only 90 years. It has been a roofless ruin since the siege of 1647. It was recently restored to preserve some of its fine carved stonework. Most people think of Eilean Donan, on the busy A87 "Road to the Isles" as the best situated Scottish castle. However, the few that have seen Gylen from the sea think otherwise.

Fleeting wraiths of fog in the Sound of Kerrera

We continued to paddle through swirling fog...


...until we drew level with the Sgeirean Dubha reef. The light shows two white flashes every 12 seconds. The present structure replaced the previous light on 11th January 2002.


Then, magically, the wraiths of fog seemed to melt away and the sun took command of the day.



As we approached the southern point of Kerrera the deciduous tree cover became less...


...and the landscape took on a wilder grandeur. Headland after headland rolled by in the sunshine but at sea the fog still held sway.


Then suddenly, the fog lifted and revealed the scattered necklace of the Isles of Lorn.


We had now arrived at Rubha Seanach and had a clear view to distant Insh Island. What would we find once we had turned west round the point?

Better Days in The Little Horseshoe Bay

In a break in the fog, we saw a row of neat little white washed cottages at the back of the perfect crescent of The Little Horseshoe Bay.


As we approached, it was obvious that this bay had been settled for a very long time. The grassy hillock at the entrance to the bay has a flat top which betrays it as an Iron Age hill fort.


The cottages were originally built for slate workers who worked at quarries at the south of the island. When the quarries failed a lobster industry became established here and the workers boxed lobsters for delivery to London and Southampton by train. Orders were delivered by telegraph and telegram boys from Oban Post Office. The business boomed to such an extent that Kerrera was the first Scottish island to get a telephone line installed! Today the only sign of activity was a sole oystercatcher which kept an eye on us from the safety of the beach.


Hidden away in a corner of the bay lay this sad old fishing boat. Her paint had all but peeled from her grey timbers. I could not even make out the name, under which she was once sailed with pride. Even her iron rubbing strakes had sprung free of their fastenings and come to rest at an angle on the shore, as if in a forlorn attempt to keep her upright.

Sadly, she has seen better days. Just like the boats of the Iron Age settlers before her, one day she will be gone, without a trace.

Black and white in the Sound of Kerrera

From Aradantrive Bay we paddled down the Sound of Kerrera to Heather Island. The fog seemed to suck all colour from the land and sea-scapes.


There was no wind to disperse the fog and glassy calm conditions reflected the sun, which occasionally broke through a thinner layer.


On the mainland side of the Sound, the Ardbhan Craigs rose into the mist. These steep cliffs with a raised beach at their foot were cut when the sea level was higher.


We arrived at Kerrera's jetty where the ferry, the MV Isle of Kerrera , was tied up. She is powered by two 75hp Honda outboards. The ferryman, Duncan McEachan, will go over to the mainland if an intending passenger turns a white board so that its black side faces Kerrera.

Better Days: the wreck of the Hyacinth

The Mull ferry's foghorn reverberated backwards and forwards between the unseen cliffs that back the Sound of Kerrera. At Ardantrive Bay we came across the sad remains of Hyacinth that was wrecked on the rocks after catching fire on the 28th April 1920. She was an iron motor drifter under the command of Captain Buchan. She was built in 1901 and was 21m x 6m with a gross weight of 39 tons.


Under the clear water we could still make out the lines of her barnacle encrusted keel and bulwarks and then, as we drifted in the ebb tide, she was lost in the fog.

The fog on the Lorn...

As we left Ganavan, fingers of cold, grey fog curled round us...


... like a shroud...


... distorting distance and muffling even the sound of the Mull ferry's fog horn.


Even the solid outline of Dunollie castle was softened to little more than an ethereal shadow emerging from the trees above the shore. Although there has been a fortified site here since the seventh century, the current fortifications date from the 1200's to the 1400's. The castle was the seat of the Lords of Lorn, the MacDougalls.


We followed the coast to the Dunollie lighthouse at the entrance to Oban bay. The light was established in 1892 and flashes twice every 6 seconds. There are white, red and green sectors. The lighthouse marks the narrowest part of the channel between the mainland and our destination, the island of Kerrera. The channel is only 200m wide but we could not see the far side. The Mull ferry has to navigate this channel and it was imperative that we should not impede it. We listened carefully to its foghorn. We decided that it was still a little way off and so we crossed quickly to Kerrera. We almost collided with its rocks before we saw them looming out of the fog. Behind us, the ship's tannoy advised drivers to return to the car deck for disembarkation.

Ganavan, a launch site for sea kayaks and seaplanes

On Saturday 23rd January, a high pressure area sat across Scotland. As we drove north towards Oban, the forecast was for coastal fog. We took a detour over to Arrochar at the head of Loch Long and since there was no fog we decided to press on.


At Connel bridge over the tidal narrows of Loch Etive, the fog was firmly down. The Falls of Lora were not in evidence because it was the last hour of the flood.


At Ganavan Sands, to the NE of Oban, the fog rolled in just as we were launching. We could hear the booming of the MV Isle of Mull's foghorn as she made her unseen approach to Oban from Craignure on Mull. Our plan to nip across to Mull for the day would need to wait!

Ganavan is a very convenient launch site near Oban. Car parking is free in the winter but there are often pay and display meters. There is a public convenience with water at the back of the car park. The very wide slip way betrays Ganavan's past. In WW2 it was the maintenance base for No. 209 Squadron RAF. The squadron moved to Oban in 1939 and flew antisubmarine missions over the North Atlantic shipping lanes. From 1940 they used troublesome Saunders Roe Lerwick aircraft but changed to PYB Catalinas in 1941.

There would have been no danger of a flying boat landing on us today. They would be grounded. Actually, although the Catalinas are long gone, Oban does have a current seaplane service to and from Glasgow.