The power of the sea.

We went off in exploration of the neat quiet streets of Port Ellen on Islay on a quest for essential supplies. We found the local Co-op store to be well stocked with portable Guinness dispensers.


On the way to the kayaks we stopped by the local coastguard station to pay our respects.


Inside we met Harold Hastie, a local boatman, who is one of the volunteer coastguards. It was his red boat we had seen rolling about in the tide race off the Mull of Oa the previous day. He was returning from inspecting a wave machine, which is situated on the far side of the Rhinns of Islay. He thought we were quite sensible to have turned back. "It was a wee bit bumpy out there yesterday and the forecast for the next few days is not good."


Behind Harold, amongst several photos of rescues, I noticed a boat I recognised. "Is that the Kartli?" I asked.


"Yes it is, in 1991 she was rounding the Rhinns of Islay, wind against tide, when a huge wave smashed into her and opened up her bridge like a sardine can. Four of her crew were killed and 15 were seriously injured. The water poured in flooding her engine room and generator. With no power or steerage, she was just rolling helplessly at the mercy of the wind and seas. Five helicopters were involved in rescuing about 50 of her surviving crew."


This was the final resting place of the Kartli on the west coast of Gigha.


Today this is all of the Kartli that remains.

Quite humbled by the power of the sea, we thanked Harold.

Our exploration of Islay continued, we were now on the look out for any distilleries which we might just come across.

14/08/2008

Port Ellen's hidden haven.

The SW breeze blew us swiftly across Kilnaughton Bay towards Port Ellen. We planned to land to replenish supplies but did not fancy a long paddle back into the teeth of the wind afterwards.


We slipped down the south side of the Ard peninsula and made our way through some skerries into this lovely little hidden (and sheltered) haven. It was full of local boats and the shoreline had many fishing bothies hidden amongst the rocks.


A short walk over the Ard..

..took us to the south bay of Port Ellen.

Another Internet writer has described it as a " crappy little town" and "so ghetto it's hilarious". Well its neatly whitewashed houses with black painted windows and doors curved round its south bay in a most pleasing way. On our early impression of Port Ellen, we beg to differ.

We found it to be a delightful place and that is before we met the locals.

14/07/2008

Return from Oa

After our return from the White Hart Bar to our camp on the SE of the Oa peninsula, there were tremendous rain storms during the night. We awoke to find the tents straining at their guy ropes in a force 4-5 offshore wind.


Scudding clouds hung low overhead but their greyness was broken by the dramatic contrast of the dark rocks and white shell sand. Low tide revealed a bit of a rock garden so we were relieved the offshore wind had flattened the swell.


Although the winds were only moderate to fresh, the forecast was for westerly winds up to force seven for most of the remainder of the week. Although we were tempted to push on round the Mull of Oa, we decided that it would be best to stay to the east given the westerly winds. Billy and Mair decided remain at camp and to explore Islay on foot and rented bicycle.

David, Tony and myself decided to pack the kayaks and head back east to explore a distillery or two.


We were soon on the water heading across Kilnaughton Bay under the shadow of Carraig Fhada lighthouse. We were bound for Port Ellen.

14/07/2008

Los Petrificados, Madrid

Just occasionally the staff of seakayakphoto.com escape furth the bounds of Auld Scotia. Madrid is quite warm at this time of year and there is much to see...


"¡Juro que un parpadeó!"



24/08/2008

The "Ship" lighthouse Sanda

As the mist swirled round we navigated round the SW corner of Sanda and found ourselves under the Ship lighthouse. It is so called because from a distance it looks like a funnel and the rock upon which it stands looks like a ship.


It is situated on the most amazing rock with a natural arch which from some angles looks like an elephant with trunk!


The light was established in 1850 by Alan Stevenson. It has a long white flash every 10 seconds.


Only when you enter the little bay behind the lighthouse do you appreciate what a unique structure it is. Two linked towers with a total of 210 steps like the lighthouse tower to the base of the cliff upon which it stands. The mist added to the surreal atmosphere.

26/07/2008

Sonar and a snoring Sammy seal slumbering soundly on Sanda

After our rounding of the Mull we left the coastline of Kintyre the wind dropped to nothing..


and the the mist began to gather and it was difficult to saw where the see ended and the sky began.


Soon the Kintyre coastline was shrouded in mist and not long afterwards we were enclosed by thick fog again. In the background you can see Dunaverty rock upon which once stood Dunaverty Castle. It is has one of the most bloody histories of all Scottish castles, ending in the massacre of between 300 to 500 Royalists who in 1647 surrendered after a siege to the Parliamentarian Lieutenant General David Leslie.

Our crossing of the strong tides in the Sound of Sanda was guided by GPS and sonar.

The fog was so thick that we were only 30m from Sanda when we finally found it. Our final approach had been guided by a strange deep ZZZZ ZZZZZZ ZZZZ sound that penetrated the miasma.


Just on the rocks we found Sammy the seal cub fast asleep, snoring his head off and completely oblivious to our presence.


Altogether now.... Ahhhhhhh!

26/07/2008

A lack of Ardbeg in Islay's White Hart Hotel's public bar.

As we were searching for a place to camp on the west shore of Kilnaughton Bay on Islay we came across the square tower of the Carraig Fhada lighthouse. It was built by David Hamilton and Son in 1832. It was taken over by the Northern Lighthouse Board in 1924. From the SE, the correct approach shows a white sector which is flanked by red and green sectors. The light flashes every 3 seconds.

In the distance we spotted the White Hart Hotel a prominent 3 storey building at the left hand end of Charlotte street in Port Ellen which fronts onto the shore of Kildalton Bay. After making camp and eating, David, Tony and I decided to walk the 5km into the Port Ellen. Our path took us over rocks, dunes, heath then a track before crossing a beach, fording a river then climbing a steep stone staircase and through a spooky wood before emerging onto a road that eventually led to the hotel. Quite a tricky route in the daylight when sober.

We entered the White Hart Hotel's public bar to find it to be like a licensed version of the Marie Celeste. All the lights and the television were on and the bar appeared to be fully equipped and ready for serving but there were no staff or customers apart from ourselves. After several "halloos" had failed to even raise a shadow of a barman and after pangs of thirst were gripping our throats we realized it was a Sunday evening. But Islay is not like the northern Outer Hebrides which are in the grip of a stern Calvinism that frowns on the opening of bars on the Sabbath. Surely it must be possible to get a drink. I espied a ship's bell at the side of the bar, I gave the clapper a firm tug. DING.... was followed by silence. Another DING and we were still thirsty. DING ALING ALING ADING. The young barmaid seemed genuinely surprised to see us but efficiently poured a round of Guinness.

Each time our glasses required replenishing we rang the bell. Eventually some locals arrived. One 18 year old recounted a sad tale of how his overindulgence in drink had cost him his effing job, his effing house and his effing woman. We ordered another round and laughed at the TV as Jeremy Clarkson on Top Gear told a funny story about a sat nav system afflicted by Tourette syndrome.

After enjoying some excellent Guinness we decided to finish the evening off with a nightcap or two of the local nectar: Ardbeg malt whisky. We were absolutely amazed to discover that not only was this particular libation unavailable but there were no other Scottish malts available either. The only "similar" liquor on sale was Jack Daniels and this in a Scottish bar on an island with nine distilleries and one which is less than 6km from the hallowed premises in which the Ardbeg is distilled!

The Tennessee distillation may go down well on the other side of the pond but it has only the most tenuous of Celtic connections (and Welsh at that) to the true Uisge Beatha. If this is what our young friend had been drinking, then we were not prepared to also loose everything by accepting it as a substitute. We remonstrated with the barmaid and she then told us we might get some Ardbeg through in the lounge bar. We asked directions and were told we would need to go out into the street along a bit then in the hotel's main door, some confusing directions within the building then followed but were not remembered. Our concern was that it was very close to closing time and would we be readmitted?

Fortunately the empty lounge bar was well staffed by two barmen and we were able to take a night cap or two of the Ardbeg. Afterwards, somewhat sated, we emerged into a moonless night. The only light came from the Port Ellen maltings which roasts the barley required of the whisky making process. We found the heady aroma of burning peat and roasting grains to be quite intoxicating.

Then we were in the dark, with a long way back to the tents through spooky wood and all....

13/07/2008