A grim, grey day off Greenock.

As we made our way out into the Firth of Clyde we were heading for the container terminal at Greenock, which is one of the major ports on the Clyde. The day was looking pretty grim with a dark grey sky hanging low over the grey streets in the distance. The MV Uos Liberty, an anchor handling tug, was moored below the two cranes and...

 ...the MV Lady Hester, a Dutch general cargo ship, was taking on cargo for Montrose at the single crane. Then we came to this west cardinal marker buoy. What would we find...

...to its east?

Afloat again, by Rosneath on the Clyde

Due to a shoulder operation in July and a knee operation in November, I have been confined to shore for the last 7 months. However months of intensive physiotherapy are beginning to pay off and today was my first day afloat. I wanted a nice calm day for a first paddle and also fairly sheltered waters so we set off from Helensburgh on the north shore of the Inner Firth of Clyde.

 I was joined by Mike in his new P&H Aries and ..

 ...Phil. It was good to be on the water with them.  The last time we had been together was back in the beginning of June last year when we paddled round the Mull of Kintyre. The weather on that day was very similar to today's with low glowering clouds threatening the forecast rain. In contrast to the raw unspoiled nature of that trip, we were now surrounded by the towns of the Clyde; Helensburgh, Gourock, Greenock and Port Glasgow.

One relatively unspoilt stretch of this predominantly urban coast was that of the Rosneath peninsula. The only sign of building was the mast of the naval degaussing station which rose out of the trees. Its purpose is to demagnetise the hulls of ships and submarines. It is all that remains of a huge WW2 naval base that housed up to 6,000 British and American servicemen. It had workshops, fuel and ammunition dumps, accommodation blocks and even a 600 bed hospital.

As we cleared Rosneath Point, the clouds lifted a little and the ferry town of Gourock on the far side of the firth brightened.

Remember to take your tide tables to Seil.

Gradually we crossed the Firth of Lorn and the Isle of Seil began to dominate the view ahead.  However, we were so enjoying the fine weather that we had not...

 ...been keeping a close enough eye on our transits and the big spring ebb carried us down the Firth of Lorn past the island of Easdale. It was now approaching midday and the forecast SSE F4 to F5 wind arrived. By now we were in the lee of the former slate worker's cottages on Easdale. The wind whipped across the flat water in Easdale Sound but we were not concerned. However, out in the open Firth of Lorn a steep wind against tide sea soon  built up. Our early start had been well worthwhile.

All too soon we landed on a slate beach at Ellenabeich and loaded the boats onto the trailer for the journey home. This corner is a recognised launch spot but whatever you do don't leave your car here or drive it on the grass. This will upset one of the local residents. There is plenty of parking just a short walk away.

This is a great part of the world for an overnight trip but it is equally suited to everything from day to multi week trips. The strong tides and variety of islands in the area (not to mention large car park) makes Ellenabeich on Seil one of premier sea kayaking embarkation points on the West Coast. Just don't forget your timetables.

We used the height of the spring ebb tide to take us SW down to the Garvellachs. We then ferry glided across the NE going flood, using it to carry us NNW to Loch Buie on Mull. The following morning we left Mull on the last of the NE going flood but were caught by an increasing SW going ebb as we approached Seil, which explains our "S" shaped course. In the area HW is morning and evenings at springs and midday and midnight at neaps.

Gentle undulations on an otherwise empty sea.

 In the middle of the Firth of Lorn the wind had dropped to nothing as we paddled east towards Seil. Away to the south lay...

 ...the Garvellachs upon which we had stood the previous day. Behind them the brooding bulk of Scarba lay between the two tide races of Corryvreckan and Grey Dogs.

The Isle of Seil lay before us with the mountains of the mainland rising beyond, some 41 kilometers distant.

As we admired the undulating ridge of Ben Cruachan (1126m), we were paddling over gentle undulations on an otherwise empty sea.

Not properly attired for the Firth of Lorn.

 As we paddled away from the cliffs of Mull's Laggan peninsula the wind gradually dropped. We had expected a rough crossing and so we had put our cags on. The salty sweat from our foreheads stung our eyes and it became difficult to see in the glare of the midsummer sun.

 As the heat of the day built on the long crossing, it was therefore with great relief...

 ...that we took off our cags and stashed them away.

As the sun rose high in the sky and the cliffs slipped away behind us, a glassy calm settled on the Firth of Lorn. there was not a breath of wind and not a sound disturbed the still air.

Gusty headwinds under the cliffs of Mull's Laggan Peninsula.

 We awoke on the shores of  Loch Buie on Mull to find that a light SE wind was sufficient to keep....

 ... the morning midges at bay. The weather forecast was for light and variable winds increasing to F4 to F5 S-SE winds by midday. Given that it was midsummer and sunny there was also the possibility of afternoon thermal winds increasing the wind even more. So we decided to make an early start and were on the water by 07:30.

We were in the lee of the Laggan peninsula and at first there was very little wind but a fair amount of swell was wrapping round Rubha na Faoilinn at the entrance to Loch Buie.

On rounding the point we were hit by a very gusty head wind from the SE which...

...was shrieking and swirling along the steep cliffs below...

...the steep cliffs of An Garradh. The gusts were so strong that they were lifting waterspouts off the surface of the sea and threatened to snatch the paddles out of our hands. As we put our heads down, our forward progress was slowed to less than 1km/hr.

The early morning sun was reflecting on the sea in front of us, which made it difficult to see the approaching gusts. The gusts were so unpredictable and ferocious that I did not risk using my Canon DSLR and so these photos were all taken with a little 2mp waterproof camera.

After an exhausting 4km paddle straight into the teeth of the wind, it was a relief to shelter in the lee of Frank Lockwood's Island. We were rewarded by a magnificent view of the cliffs on Mull's remote Laggan peninsula, which stretched away to the NE. Lying in the shelter of the little island we discussed our options. We wondered if the forecast F4-F5 winds had arrived early. If so they would make our 12 km open crossing of the Firth of Lorn rather unpleasant as they would be blowing over and against a big spring ebb tide. We battened down the hatches.... .

Caught between the tide, a rock and a hard place in Loch Buie.

The midges round Loch Buie on Mull can be ferocious so Jennifer and I set up our cooking on rocks well down the beach to get away from them. Unfortunately it was a really high spring tide and our rocks gradually disappeared...

...leaving just a few stones above water ( above left of the bonfire). So we joined Phil and many millions of midges at the top of the beach where we lit a driftwood fire.

We had hoped for a magnificent sunset behind Beinn na Croise 503m but an approaching cold front brought too much low cloud.

Every cloud has a silver lining and this one brought wind. This quickly got rid of the midges but it was impossible to sit in one place and avoid the acrid woodsmoke as...

 ...the wind swirled round the shores of Loch Buie.

At last we were free of midges and the wind settled. We reminisced about past expeditions and planned new trips long into the light midsummer night. The sky to the north, behind Ben Buie 717m, stayed light till well after midnight.