A nice shade of grey, in Hunter's Quay

We crossed the Holy Loch and arrived at Hunter's Quay just after MV Sound of Sanda had landed and was offloading her cars. We quickly made our way round her stern (that would become her bow) and found ourselves paddling below more fine Victorian villas. Hunter's Quay was established in 1816 when James Hunter bought the local Hafton Estate. He built a quay in 1828 and extended it to a pier in 1858, as other people moved into the village and built villas there. The last steamer called at the pier in 1964. Then in 1973, Western Ferries bought the pier and opened up the frequent sailings to McInroy's Point at Gourock.


On the beach below a large villa we came across "The Jim Crow". The rock has been painted like this for more than a hundred years but during the night of 21st June 2009, it was painted over all in grey. This caused much local debate and was reported in the Dunoon Observer. Some people think the rock just looks like a crow. Other people think that the name refers to the "Jim Crow laws" that segregated black and white people in the USA from 1876 till 1965.

As you can see, The Jim Crow has since been restored. I don't know what American servicemen from the Holy Loch thought of it. Maybe it is just a crow but it's not a very attractive crow. Just because something has been there a long time does not make it right. Neither does the fact that many may not appreciate its significance to others. I certainly am not one for overzealous political correctness (I call things black and white boards, not chalk and pen boards) but in this case, I think the rock, and Hunter's Quay, would look better if it were a nice shade of grey.

The seakayakphoto.com school of sea kayaking: lesson one, paddling in a current.

I have not been out for a while, since I dislocated my knee on Gunna. Four months of inactivity have left me pretty unfit. Phil, who has been paddling for less than a year, hadn't done any tidal paddling at all. So given it was a spring tide we thought it would do both of us some good to sample the tide races on the west coast. We set off from Crinan at the top end of the Sound of Jura.


We nipped through the Dorus Mor.Then we paddled quite hard to break out of the current that was heading straight out the Corryvreckan towards distant Colonsay. Next we paddled up the Sound of Luing where we saw a huge school of perhaps 30 or 40 bottlenose dolphins, leaping clean out the water.


After this we went through the Grey dogs at the peak flow of the spring tide, we bashed through the standing waves at 18km/hour. We had been pretty economical with the description of the Grey Dogs that we gave Phil. Just as we passed the point of no return on our approach, Tony quietly said "Phil, see when we turn the corner just after this wee island? Just keep paddling".


Next we paddled down the west side of Scarba and entered the Corryvreckan. The flood was still running out against us but we used an eddy on the Scarba shore to enter the Great Race. Spray from the agitated water hung in the windless air. The eddy ended at a small headland and swung out into the main flow where it joined the rotating mass of water which forms the whirlpool. I said “Phil you need to get round this headland so paddle quite hard and don’t look back.”


We got round the headland and landed in a little bay to wait for the flood to ease off. We had to drag the boats well up the beach as seething surges of water threatened to whisk them away into the jaws of the ‘vreckan. Slack water arrived suddenly and lasted all of five minutes.


We blasted through the Dorus Mor again. The Paps of Jura heaved above the SW horizon. The ebb from Loch Craignish now joined the fun. Even a large fishing boat got caught by the current and sidestepped several hundred metres.All too soon we were back in the shelter of Crinan, a mere 39km after we had left. Not bad after a four month lay off and for Phil’s first lesson in tidal paddling.

Stornoway Grey

Yesterday I sang the praises of the subtle shades of grey that make the landscape of the Outer Hebrides so appealing.

Quote "I loved the contrast of the dazzling white shell sand against the many greys of the rocks, hills, sea and sky. They say the Inuit have a hundred words for snow. Well, the Gaels have a hundred words for grey."

It would appear that one of them is not Stornoway grey, or rather Stornaway (sic) grey, which is a paint shade available on the new and well received LandRover Freelander2


Photo credit LandRover

Councillor Angus Nicolson, writing in his weblog, has been truly insulted and is concerned that the name, Stornoway grey, will give potential visitors the wrong impression of the islands.

Well, although I love the islands' greys, the light changes five minutes later and there is a blaze of colour, especially the machair in the summer.



I do not think Angus should be too concerned about Stornaway Grey Freelander2s cluttering the streets of Chelsea. However, can you imagine the glorious sight of 181 wind turbines, all finished in sparkling Stornoway grey?


Photo montage by Lewis Wind Farm


Map of proposed Lewis Wind Farm showing position of turbines. The M25 round London is overlaid at the same scale.

Castaway

From 1/1/2000 to 1/1/2001 the BBC ran a TV series, Castaway 2000, which followed the lives of 36 adults and children who were castawayed on Taransay off the west coast of Harris in the Outer Hebrides. As you might guess from this blog, I do not watch a great deal of television but I did watch this programme for the glimpses of wonderful Hebridean seascapes, skyscapes and landscapes.

Billy and I landed and camped there in July 2005. I loved the contrast of the dazzling white shell sand against the many greys of the rocks, hills, sea and sky. They say the Inuit have a hundred words for snow. Well, the Gaels have a hundred words for grey. We made two attempts to return in 2006.



In June 2006 we were on MV Dundarg but a force 7 prevented us getting near Taransay and we sought shelter behind Scarp further to the north.



We tried again in July 2006. You can just about make out Taransay through the mist.



Unfortunately there was a little shore break to negotiate and I have to report that we (fair weather paddlers) wimped out at this opportunity to display our kayaking prowess. It can be quite a challenge to become a castaway on Taransay.