Paddling under cliffs of sandstone and basalt.

As Phil and I paddled north past the cliffs of Carlandcheek...

...it was spring HW and we were able to make our way close under the sandstone cliffs, where the Lagg Burn tumbles from its ravine into the sea.

 There was just enough room to land and stretch...

...our legs at the base of the cliffs before continuing...

... under the basalt ridges of Bower Hill and...

...the Heads of Ayr.

Enlightenment at Dunure.

Once again, Dunure provided a perfect haven to stop for...

 ...a luncheon which we took on the rocks overlooking the harbour. Afterwards we made our way to the pub, where we were detained somewhat longer than we had intended.

Our sojourn in the pub was time well spent. When we finally emerged and started paddling again the low winter sun was illuminating the underside of the clouds, it was a wonderful sight.

It was now time to press on to Ayr again past...

 ...the beautiful Carrick coastline.

Freedom and marbled skies over the Firth of Clyde.

 It was a bitterly cold day and we crunched our way through ice at the top of the beach.

 The sun rose as we passed the mouth of the River Doon.

 There was just a hint of an easterly breeze as we made our way...

 ...past the Heads of Ayr...

...which lie about 5km south west of Seafield.

It was a spring low tide and we got some extra exercise. It was a long walk up the beach at Bracken Bay to the old tree trunk, which is our favoured seat for first luncheon. This beach catches surf from the south west and it can be difficult landing here when the tide is higher. Unfortunately I was not looking where I was going and slipped on one of the slimy green rocks. My inattention led to a further painful dislocation of my knee, ouch!

 Setting off south again, the dull grey clouds slowly transformed into...

..the most amazing marbled sky. As the wind caught our sails, we experienced an incredible feeling of freedom. It took the ache away from my knee!

A medical emergency and moonlight landing at Port Carrick.

When we approached the roosting gulls on Carnage Corner south of Dunure it was pretty obvious that it would be dark by the time we got to Maidens. So we made a decision to cut across the 7km wide mouth of Culzean Bay direct to  Barwin Point. This was to prove to be a major navigational error.

By the time we were only a third of the way across, each of us was struck by a simultaneous medical emergency. Being gentlemen of a certain age, it became very difficult to maintain control over our bladders. There was a pressing need to land so we pushed on across the bay at high speed (so no distracting photos) and landed at Port Carrick, just before Barwhin Point. Never have three kayakers (in their sixth and seventh decades) exited cramped cockpits so quickly. Relief beyond belief as they say.

It was now a pleasure to set off on a relaxed paddle round Barwhin Point in the silvery moonlight.

On the southern horizon we could just see the dark outline of Turnberry Point below the steady and reassuring...

 flash of Turnberry lighthouse.

High above through a gap in the clouds we could see a trans Atlantic jut flying so high that for it, the sun had not yet set.

We landed on a deserted beach at Maidens. The only sign of life was the the distant flash of Holy Island Outer Lighthouse on the horizon to the north west.

All's well that ends dry!

Another interlude at Dunure...

 When we arrived at Dunure it was high water and...

 ...we made our way round the almost empty harbour...

...to the pub where fortunately the Guinness tank was far from empty (when we arrived).

 Whoops the tide has gone out awfully quickly!

 It was still along way to Maidens so it was time to paddle on.

 To the west, the air was so clear that we could see fields and even houses but we were heading south...

...past the walls of Dunure Castle and on towards Ailsa Craig.

Rockpool Taran 16 as a tourer, review update.

Up until now we had looked at the Taran 16's performance from the point of view of travelling as fast as possible both with and without a sail. For this next  part of the test, we wanted to assess the Taran's practicality and suitability as a general day touring kayak. Two of us set off at dawn (one in the Taran 16 and one in a Cetus MV) and paddled south until the sun was at is peak in the sky. Then we switched kayaks and turned back arriving at our launch spot at nightfall. 

You can read our findings at the original review page which has been updated. Discussing the day, Phil said the Taran 16 is faster than my Quest, more manoeuvrable than the Quest and more ergonomic than the Quest. It also has just as much space (more when you consider it has no skeg box). It was also significantly faster than the Cetus MV (my current favourite all round kayak). I think anyone in the market for a composite touring kayak should test paddle a Taran 16, with an open mind. Don't view it as a simple speed machine, don't think that a touring kayak has to vaguely resemble a traditional Greenland kayak to be any good... just go out and paddle it. You will find that it does not just go fast, it is also manoeuvrable and comfortable and no more difficult to paddle than any other kayak. Whatever else it is, the Taran 16 is also an ideal touring kayak.

Cloudscapes of Carrick.

 As we left Bracken Bay the sky to the north was crystal clear but...

 ...clouds were bubbling over the cliffs to the south. Waterfalls tumbled down steep cliffs...

...before their waters mingled with the sea below.

 As we paddled along Ayrshire's Carrick coast...

 ...the great monolith of Ailsa Craig began to dominate the southern horizon.

 Each spit of rock seemed...

 ...to have at least two herons, hunched against the cold wind.

 We could not help our...

 ...eyes being dragged skywards...

 ...as the ever changing cloudscapes...

 ...flitted above the dark rocks and...

 ...castles of Carrick such as...

 ...this one at Dunure.

 We slipped into Dunure harbour for...

...a well deserved break