Putting down roots at Lageorna, Eigg.

True to her word, Sue waited for us to get changed out of our kayaking gear at Glamisdale jetty and ran us in her car the 7km over the spine of Eigg to her BandB at Lageorna in the township of Cleadale on the west side of the island.

We were welcomed by Sue's lovely collie bitch.

Sue told us that she was an incomer to Eigg, she had only been there for 35 years or so but Alastair her husband had been born at Lageorna.

Alastair's great grandparents had owned the croft and it had been in the family ever since.

The large sycamore tree that now stands at the croft gate had been planted by his great grandmother.

When we visited on 1st March there were bunches of snowdrops growing under the tree. It's nice to have roots.

Sue showed us to our rooms, the first thing that struck me was the beautiful beds which had been made by Sandy Fraser from Ivy Cottage on Rum. We had chatted to Sandy and his wife Fliss during our visit to Rum. Fliss runs a BandB from Ivy Cottage.

My room also had a bed settee and a window looking out to Rum which was still shrouded in fog.

Ian's room had a view...

...over to the Sgurr of Eigg which had a wisp of mist blowing round it like the peat smoke from a croft's chimney.

After showering Ian and I walked a little way up the Cleadale road and enjoyed the view from the war memorial. From this tiny place, 11 marched off to serve in WW1 and 3 were killed. 29 served in WW2 and 3 were killed. They fought for what was dear to them.

Lines of swell were still marching into the Bay of Laig and we...

...were glad our kayaks were safely drawn up on the jetty at Glamisdale. We had no worry about leaving them and most of our gear Eigg is far removed from the vandalism and petty crimes of the city.

As we returned to Lageorna, the mist lifted just for a moment revealing just a bit of the Cuillin of Rum.

It was with some anticipation that we returned to the crofts of Cleadale with their reeks of peat smoke.

Sue has a reputation as a fine cook and we were not disappointed by the fine three course dinner she prepared. Lageorna is also open to non residents for dining.

Outside the sky darkened over the Bay of Laig but...

...just for a moment, the Cuillin of Rum put in their first appearance of the day. Far below the summits a light betrayed the presence of a fishing boat working the Sound of Rum.

Ian and I so enjoyed Lageorna that we intend to return with our wives.

We did not want to spend Easter on Eigg.

Ian and I had enjoyed an excellent luncheon on Camas Sgiotaig at the NW corner of Eigg but it was now time to paddle the remote west and SW coasts of this lovely isle. In the winter this surf beach has dangerous surf breaking for weeks on end. We were keen to move on as we did not want to spend Easter on Eigg. Fortunately a wait was rewarded with a relatively calm spell and we both launched safely.

Although the sun threatened to break through...

...the fog lowered again and we could only see the lower reaches of Eigg. Of the classic view NW to Rum and her Cuillin mountains there was not a trace.

As we paddled across the Bay of Laig, we caught sight of Lageorna, where we had arranged to stay the night.

As we continued the wind dropped to nothing...

...and the only sound was...

...the rumble of the surf breaking...

...along the base of the cliffs.

The rock architecture on this coast of Eigg is superb...

...and the fog added to the atmospheric conditions by...

...lifting like a veil; revealing the splendor bit...

...by bit.

The basalt and pitchstone upper rocks sit on a bed...

 ...of more ancient sedimentary rocks. Fossilised tropical trees have been found below the edges of this volcanic layer.

We had hoped to see the iconic pitchstone ridge of the Sgurr of Eigg but it remained hidden by the mist.

Our main concern during this change of plan was that we would meet an adverse tide in the Sound of Eigg.

However, despite it being springs, we met no tidal current whatsoever and soon arrived at the old pier of Glamisdale. As we pulled our kayaks up the jetty we thought we were alone but two youngsters ran down out of the mist. "Are you the Canoe Boys?" "Sue says she is just shutting the shop but she will wait till you get ready and run you up to the B&B!"

Hatching a cracking plan on Eigg.

 We left Rum with the fog swirling round the foothills of the Cuillin.

Ahead in the murk the Island of Eigg lay 9km ahead of us and  for a long time we paddled using GPS, and compass. We were bound for Camas Sgiotaig at the north west end of the island.

 Eventually the mist lifted and we could make out the outline of Eigg...

 ...to the south west lay Rubha an Fhasaidh while...

 ...to the north east Sgorr Sgaileach...

... caught the sun.

 The silence of the open crossing was replaced by the crash and roar of the surf as we approached Eigg...

 Fortunately there was a pattern of bigger sets followed by a quieter period. So we waited for the right moment then...

 ...made a run into the beach. The spume was hanging heavily in the air and it was a relief...

 ...to be able to walk up the beach without having been trashed in the surf.

It was while we were having second luncheon on the rock slabs below the towering ramparts of Dunan Thalasgair that we hatched our plan. Our original intention had been to paddle down to the next sandy bay... Bay of Laig and leave the kayaks there and walk up to the B&B at Lageorna situated in the township of Cleadale.

Howeve,r the size of the surf breaking on the reefs made us concerned in case we were trapped by a rise in the swell overnight. So we decided to take advantage of the light wind and paddle all the way to the south of the island and leave the kayaks at the jetty in Galmisdale then walk the 7km back to Cleadale. The big advantage of this plan would be a guaranteed easy launch the following day and it would leave us close enough to Muck that a near circumnavigation would be possible before nightfall.

A Double Dutch and a Rum on the rocks please.

Ian and I set off on the third day of our Small Isles adventure from Loch Scresort on Rum. We soon passed the Scottish Natural Heritage otter hide (hidden away in the trees). Strangely enough this was one of the few places where we didn't see otters!

 At the mouth of Loch Scresort we passed the sad remains of Port na Caraneon.

The original crofters who were mostly based in the better lands of Harris in the west of Rum were cleared by about 1828 when this village of black houses was built. These were built by people who had been cleared from Skye but were brought here to work sheep on the island. Sheep were never profitable on Rum and the village was abandoned in 1850 when the lands of Rum were turned over to deer and it became a shooting estate for the entertainment of wealthy gentlemen from afar.

Paddling along the SE coast of Rum the fog thickened then we heard a lot high speed (but incomprehensible to our ears) radio communications on VHF channel 16. Ian thought it was Dutch. The MV Loch Nevis appeared on the visit to Rum but moving slowly behind her was the  Hnlms Groningen, a Holland class offshore patrol vessel. She had a RIB out and was clearly involved in some sort of exercise.

Then the fog thickened further and a sinister outline slowly loomed out of the grey. She was the Hnlms Johan De Witt, a Dutch LPD ship (landing platform dock) of some 16,500 tons. She was moving very slowly so Ian tried to raise her on the VHF but she was not answering. Later we discovered she didn't have her AIS switched on either. She didn't switch AIS on till several days later when she suddenly reappeared in the middle of the Irish Sea prior to a courtesy visit to Liverpool.

Ian and I really didn't fancy crossing the Sound of Rum to Eigg in thick fog while two non communicative naval vessels were exercising in mid channel so we set off down the coast of Rum, passing...

 ...several otters, under imposing headlands until...

 ...we came to a break in the rocks at the lovely Bagh na h-Uamha.

Ian got his VHF out and climbed up high above the beach to try and make contact with our Dutch visitors whose rumbling engines still echoed round the cliffs.

My knee was a bit sore as I had dislocated it on the castle stairs earlier that day, so I was content to sit on the Rum rocks rock eating lunch and soak in the beauty of this lovely place until Ian returned.

Ian (who is a ship's communications professional) had been unable to raise either of the Dutch ships on VHF..."It was like trying to talk to a stone" he said... so we enjoyed an extended luncheon while the sound of their engines and their radio silence gradually faded down the Sound.