A swell time on the north coast of Scarp and Cearstaigh

We cut through the gap between Scarp and Cearstaigh...


...and emerged from the shelter of the sandy cove on the north coast of Scarp into somewhat confused water beyond.


This was the open Atlantic and the swell was kicking up a fearsome clapotis off the dark cliffs. Note Tony's head (hull well down) to the right of Andy.


The only calm on the west coast of Cearstaigh was Murty's smile of quiet contentment!


Swells surged in under a huge overhang...


... and in the rush to leave the premises some gel coat was struck asunder. After we were exhausted, we returned to the relative shelter of the gap and practiced rolling and rescues. Photo Clark Fenton.


After loading the kayaks back onto the Cuma in the lee of Cearstaigh, Murdani took us back to Loch Roag for a second night in its shelter.

04/06/2008

Sea kayaking Scarp's cave coast

The swell had got up with the rise in tide during our lunch break on Scarp. There were several assisted launches. I was last off the beach but the steep sand meant I got my spray deck on while dry then pushed myself down the slope.


We now followed scudding clouds down the Caolas an Scarp.


We then found ourselves on Scarp's NE coast. It is riddled with caves.


Inside this cave a blowhole was venting a fine spray of sea water into the already damp air.


Right at the back there was a small beach. The noise of the surf echoed and bellowed in the confined space.


Another large cave had the most amazing colours in its rocks.


We explored deep within its confines.


Just when we thought we had explored the last cave, we turned a corner and found this monster.


This last cave, with a sandy shore at its back, was off the sandy bay at the north end of Scarp where we met Cuma.


We now landed briefly on Scarp to ensure all items on deck were securely mounted....

04/06/2008

Decay and restoration on Scarp.

From the shore we made our way up the hill through the remains of the settlement on Scarp. Photo: T Page.


In the distance on the right, you can just make out the jetty on Harris that was the Scarp inhabitants' link to the outside world.


It was only two years since our last visit but the houses had deteriorated noticeably.


Some of the old black houses still had remains of their thatched roofs.


We were surprised to find that one house was being restored, probably as a holiday home. I wonder if the new owner is a descendant of one of the original crofters of Scarp?


The grave yard was in the machair behind the dunes. Most of the graves were marked by simple rounded boulders from the beach below, although there were a few carved stones.

04/06/2008

Scarp, a kyles too far and a phone too few.

Crossing the Caolas an Scarp we made landfall on the island of Scarp. Although the distance across the kyles is only 430 metres, the shallow channel can be very turbulent in wind and swell conditions. The islanders felt very isolated when they were marooned on the island for long periods. The last two families evacuated the island in 1971, some four decades after the evacuation of the apparently much more isolated St Kilda. The final decision came after a storm carried away the submarine telephone link between Scarp and Harris in 1970. The phone company decided not to replace it and the islanders left shortly afterwards.


Even on a calm day landing at Scarp could be tricky with swell coming round both sides of the island. We timed our landings on the smaller sets and everyone got ashore dry.


We were ready for a leisurely second luncheon and carried the kayaks well above the surf...


...before making our way to the dunes between the beach and the abandoned village.


Its inhabitants may now have left but what a place for a break on a summer's day!

04/06/2008

Speed bonny boat over the sea to Scarp!

We were blown right out of Loch Crabhadail on Harris.


The rocky gneiss of its ancient mountains gave way to great shifting dunes of sand at its mouth.


And then we entered the fabled Coalas an Scarp. The light here is truly like no other on Earth.


Murty kept a watchful eye,


as our shadows sped across the sandy bottom on our way to Scarp!

We love sea kayaking in Scotland!

04/06/2008

Glen Crabhadail

The gusty offshore wind blew this old buoy, from its resting place high in the machair...


... down onto the sands of Camas Crabhadail.



Our kayaks were lost in the empty space of Glen Crabhadail.


After a second breakfast, we made our way over the machair and into the heartland of the Glen.


Over a rise, we came to the fresh water Loch a' Ghlinnhe. This looked like a very fine place to fish for sea trout.


We came across these neat lazy beds and knew that these lands of Harris were not always empty of human habitation. Photo JLW.


Soon we felt the call of the sea again and made our way back to the beach. Photo JLW.

04/06/2008

Cartwheels in Loch Crabhadale

From the mouth of Loch Reasort we turned to the SW and entered the beautiful Loch Crabhadail (Cravadale). The wind was very squally, with heavy gusts lifting the surface of the water. A tow was set up for one of the girls and some of the others were having problems with lee-cocking, finding it almost impossible to keep their bows into he wind.


The quality of the Hebridean light was simply stunning.


The head of Loch Crabhadale is fringed by two cresents of dazzling white shell sand.


After our exertions against the wind, it seemed like the perfect place to stop.


Not long after this photo was taken, a gust of wind caught Jennifer's kayak and sent it cartwheeling, end over end, down the beach. I was lucky to catch it in the shallows, before it was blown out to sea. Several strips of duct tape sealed the bashes in the gel coat and promised a weekend of repairs once home!

04/06/2008

Loch Reasort, a long time in the making.

Our first day back on Harris dawned with a freshening SW wind but wonderful clear skies and sunshine. It was good to be back on the water as we left MV Cuma at her mooring. We would rendezvous with the Cuma at the north end of Scarp later in the day.


Cuma had anchored half way in towards the head of Loch Reasort (Resort in English).


We now made our way down the loch towards the Atlantic.


A glacier cut a U shaped valley though the ancient rocks of Lewisian gneiss.


Ahead lay the distant island of Scarp.


As we paddled below the rocky slopes of Taran Mor, 303m, we were looking at rocks that are about 2,500 million years old. Even in this now desolate place, lazy beds betrayed past settlements that are now long forgotten.


Our route from Loch Reasort to Scarp.

04/06/2008