End of day in Carsaig Bay.

As we left the lonely rock of Ruadh Sgeir the tide was still carrying us back towards Carsaig Bay and as it was nearing the end of our expedition, it was nice to take a break from paddling. The light was beautiful and...

 ...we enjoyed views to the Paps of Jura which had dominated the horizon on much of our trip.

Nearing the end, we broke out of the tide into the sheltered inlet behind Carsaig Island.

 We had to start paddling again but...

...the water was calm and we enjoyed the warmth of some late evening sun.

At the SW end of the channel we came across the lovely wooden yacht Wild Rose. We had last seen her in Tinker's Hole on the Ross of Mull and off the west coast of Iona the previous year.

 As we cleared the SW end of Carsaig Island, the Paps of Jura briefly came into view for the last time until...

 ...our journey came to an end at Carsaig Bay on the Argyll mainland. It was from here we had set off 4 days previously.  Ian, Sam and I had originally intended camping out one last night further down the Sound of Jura...

...(at a delightful spot I had camped at in 2003, see above) but I was done. I was waiting for treatment for a significant health problem and I had run out of steam. I was grateful that Ian made the decision to stop at Carsaig Bay and stay the night at the nearby commercial campsite in Tayvallich. Despite the wonderful location, overlooking the Sound of Jura, I really could not have faced another night and morning of unloading and loading boats.

It was a bittersweet moment, unloading our boats in the sunset for the last time. Sad because it was the end of an unforgettable trip but happy because we were already sharing great memories.

Although Maurice and David were driving home that night, we all had dinner in the Tayvallich Inn. The staff very considerately took our food orders well past their normal last order time (we had forewarned them of our late arrival).

 So Maurice, David, myself, Sam and Ian enjoyed our last supper together on this trip. We recounted some great experiences but above all, a successful sea kayaking trip (like so many things in life) is greatly enhanced by those you share it with.

Over the four days we covered 140km on our sea kayaking pilgrimage to Oronsay and Colonsay via Jura. Unfortunately it was to prove to be my only sea kayak camping trip in 2017 but what a trip it was! :o)

Read Ian's account here.

Waiting for the Corryvreckan tide at Glengarrisdale.

As we were finishing second breakfast, the chilly silence of Corpach Bay was broken by the rumble of engines. The SC Nordic, a Danish pallet carrier of 4,786 gross tonnage, was making her way NE between Colonsay and Jura towards the Sound of Mull. She was enroute from Greenock on the Clyde to Skogn in Trondheimsfjorden, Norway. Soon she was out of earshot and silence again fell over the bay of the dead (Corpach Bay).

 Once on the water again, too much north in the wind kept our sails furled but steady progress...

...saw the brooding bulk of Scarba increasingly dominate our view ahead.

Scarba marks the northern side of the fearsome Gulf of Corryvreckan and its steep slopes plunging into the rushing tides add to the intimidating nature of the place...but more of that later.

We were able to launch the sails again as the onshore breeze backed to a tight reach. Above the rough hills our eyes were drawn to...

 ...the magnificent sight of a pair of...

 ...white tailed sea eagles soaring on the same onshore wind (which we were paddle sailing in) creating an up draught above the slope.

This one either had a white tag on its wing or was missing some feathers. Maurice was amazed. He had gone from never having seen a sea eagle to seeing 4 within 24 hours. It did occur to me that this might be the same pair that we had seen the previous day, some 25km to the west on the east coast of Colonsay. However, they are lazy big birds and once they have a mate and territory they tend not to stray far. On average a sea eagle's territory is about 8km in diameter.

 There are very few places to land on this rough coast pathless which is the domain...

...of these nimble goats.

Neither Maurice nor Sam had been through the Corryvreckan before and they fell behind in some deep discussion about what to expect.

Neither of them seemed convinced....

 ...by my reassurances that it would be flat as a pancake, especially as we drew ever nearer to the Gulf. Perhaps this was because the previous evening, Ian and I had given a dramatic account of our last trip through the Corryvreckan.  This had involved breaking standing waves and moving backwards. This was despite paddling forward at full pelt, the tide had turned against us and threatened to carry us back the way we had just come.

On this trip, the west going spring flood was still in full flow at 8 knots and as we wanted to traverse the Gulf to the east it was time for a sharp...

 ...exit to the right, where we entered Glengarrisdale Bay where the eponymous...

 ...red roofed bothy lay at the back of the bay. It would make an ideal shelter from the cold wind for our three hour wait for the tide to turn.

 So we landed on the sands of the bay and...

 ...warmed up by carrying the boats well up the beach...

...so that we would be sure the tide would not carry the boats away during an extended Glengarrisdale luncheon.

Between a rock and a hard place on the wild west cost of Colonsay.

We set off from Oronsay up the west coast of Colonsay with Ben More on Mull away to the north.

On our previous visit in 2010 there had been a bit of a swell running and we had to keep well out beyond the skerries.

This time it was a joy to wend our way through rocky channels and past white sand beaches. Sometimes we had to reverse out of blind channels which was all part of the fun.

A week of NE winds had flattened the Atlantic swell.

Soon we were passing beneath the rocky ramparts of Dun Ghallain on the summit of which an Iron Age hill fort once stood.

Beyond Dun Ghallain we left the last of the sandy bays behind...

..and entered a more committing part of the coastline.

Far beyond these rocky reefs...

...to the west, Labrador was the next landfall.

To the east the coastline of Colonsay had become an unbroken and unyielding wall of rock. We still had a long way to go.

Read Ian's account here.

Why sea kayakers should consider carrying a PLB, unless they are full sibling to an ostrich.

Our journey from Carsaig Bay to Oronsay and Colonsay back in May 2017 continued after a long luncheon break on the sands of Oronsay. The break in blogging has been somewhat longer than that as I have been feeling a bit under par recently. At this, point I should say a very big thank you to Duncan for so generously lending me Sith for this trip. It is just a pity that neither Duncan nor Joan could make this paddling adventure as they had recently returned to Vancouver Island.

We set off anticlockwise round Oronsay with...

...the distant Paps of Jura and the northern entrance of the Sound of Islay on our port side.

We entered a maze of rocky channels at the SW tip of Oronsay We were making slow progress against the incoming tide when a "whoppa whoppa whoppa" from behind announced the arrival of...

...G-MCGG, the coastguard search and rescue (SAR) helicopter from Prestwick, some 120km away to the SE. We heard from Belfast Coastguard VHF transmissions that she was on her way to assist a party of sea kayakers in trouble off the Ross of Mull, some 30km to the north. She tipped over slightly as she passed and we could see the crew looking down at us but presumably we did not look like we were in distress and were too far from their search zone.

This was a Sikorsky S92 helicopter but two months later it was replaced at Prestwick by a Leonardo (formerly AgustaWestland) AW189.  Bristows have operated these SAR helicopters from Prestwick on behalf of the Marine and Coastguard Agency since the previous Royal Navy Sea King SAR  helicopters were retired on 1/1/2016.

Just a few days previous to our sighting, a MCA helicopter from Prestwick had rescued a surfer from the middle of the North Channel between Scotland and Ireland. The surfer had been adrift after setting off surfing from Westport beach on Kintyre. The tide and an offshore wind carried him off without any means of attracting attention.  The search lasted for 32 hours and involved several MCA helicopters from Prestwick, 3 RNLI Lifeboats and 5 shore based coastguard teams. It is quite remarkable that he was discovered. He was found 26km from Kintyre and 21km from Ireland in a search area of nearly 500 square kilometers. 

After the rescue, one of the crew, Andy Pilliner, said: “Looking out at endless water, you just see something that’s slightly different in the water, from where we looked, it looked perhaps like a buoy, but it warranted further investigation so we dropped in height a bit and came in and it was that moment, oh it is actually a surfboard and there’s someone on it waving. It's just a great feeling, it’s just what you’re hoping for."

The rescued surfer said "I cannot thank those enough who rescued and cared for me, they are all heroes."

This remarkable rescue is a very good reason for water users, such as sea kayakers, to carry personal locator beacons (PLBs). By setting one off, if you are ever in a life threatening situation, you can help the rescuers find you quickly. This not only saves the rescue services considerable effort but it also reduces the time their personnel are exposed to danger. I have been carrying a PLB while windsurfing and sea kayaking for the last 12 years. My first PLB cost nearly £600 but the Ocean Signal rescueMe PLB1, which I now carry, is currently only £200. Given the overall cost of sea kayaking gear and transport this is a minor expense. (I burned £40 of fuel getting to our launch point for this trip and I live closest!) So I can't think of any good reason why a responsible sea kayaker would not nowadays consider carrying a PLB unless, perhaps, they are full sibling to an ostrich.

Fortunately we were in no difficulty and C-MCGG flew on and successfully assisted the kayakers in trouble while we landed on Oronsay. As we made our way up the beach at the head of the long inlet of Port na Luinge (long port!), we were following in the footsteps of our ancestors and our own pilgrimage to the Isles had nearly come to an end.

You can read Ian's account here.

Landfall in an Oronsay midden.

We set off from Ruantallain on Jura for the distant isles of Oronsay and Colonsay which were just a thin blue line on the western horizon.

 The breeze was from the NE and proved very helpful as the total crossing from our camp on Jura to landfall on the western tip of Oronsay was 19km.]

 Soon the hills of Jura, and away to the north, Scarba slipped astern.

 Even the mighty Paps of Jura diminished as we reached a third of the way across and...

 ...could look straight down the Sound of Islay.

 In mid crossing the wind increased to the top of a F3 gusting F4 and...

 ...we revelled in the wonderful conditions.

Sam does not yet have a sail but he has the benefit of youth and as huge set of Double Dutch paddles.

Even so, at this point the paddle sailors had to back off a bits o that we stuck together.

 Slowly the low isle of Colonsay began to take shape. Forty seven km away to the north it was Ben More on Mull that dominated the horizon at 967m.

The eastern beaches looked inviting but were exposed to a cold NE wind so we paddled in behind the reef of Leac Bhuidhe into...

 ...a sheltered lagoon used by our ancestors. Indeed we landed below one of their rubbish dumps. The giant shell mounds date from the mesolithic age when humans first visited theses islands some 7,500 years ago as the spread north and west as the Ice Age retreated. The mounds are mostly composed of limpet shells but there are also bones of deer, dolphins and great auks.

We made landfall on this pristine beach much as our ancestors had done. Like them we were...

...ready for luncheon!