Day return to Islay, please.

Back at the beginning of March we left Glasgow at 4am and arrived at Kennacraig at 06:23. As the MV Hebridean Isles was nudging into her jetty from the southern Hebridean Isle of Islay, the moon was setting in the west.


We drove aboard and were soon steaming down West Loch Tarbert as the sun was coming up at 07:30. We were bound for Islay! Regular readers of this blog will know that the staff of seakayakphoto.com have a particular affinity for this isle. You can read more of the delights of Islay here and here.

Earlier in the week, I had noticed that one of the two Islay ferries was off for servicing and the Hebridean Isles was to be running extra sailings later in the evening to make up for the lack of crossings. Her last return was to be at 20:20 from Port Askaig which is about two hours later than the normal last winter sailing. Just enough time for a sea kayaking day trip from Glasgow! A cunning plan was being hatched!


At the mouth of the loch, the lovely low lying isle of Gigha came into view. Closely followed...


...by her mountainous neighbour Jura. Her magnificent Paps rose white above the dark waters of the Sound of Jura. We were off on another sea kayaking adventure!

St Kilda, artist in residence.

The population of the Village, St Kilda has increased by one tonight. St Kilda lies 40 miles out into the Atlantic, beyond the Outer Hebrides. Before their evacuation in the 1930's the St Kildans were the most remote community in the British Isles.


My daughter Jennifer, who is a final year photography student at Glasgow School of Art, is staying on the island for the next week to complete a photographic assignment for her final degree show. She was dropped off by Kilda Cruises's high speed boat from Leverburgh on Harris this morning and hopes to be picked up again next week.


In the course of her research she came across a number of letters written by St Kildans to John MacKenzie, the factor of the MacLeod Estate on Skye. MacLeod was the St Kildans' landlord. These letters were part of a collection held by the St Mungo Museum of Religious Life and Art in Glasgow but were "undiscovered" in that neither the National Trust for Scotland, which holds most of the St Kildan archive, or any of the very many authors who have previously written about St Kilda knew of or had access to these letters. Jennifer based her dissertation on the letters and now on her second visit to St Kilda, hopes to create a photographic interpretation of the island and relics of the St Kildans' existance there to accompany her dissertation at her degree show.


This letter was sent by Donald Ferguson, the factor's groundsman on St Kilda in 1897. In her dissertation, Jennifer presents evidence that the letter was hand written by Donald's son Neil Ferguson. In 1896 two brothers Richard and Cherry Kearton visited St Kilda and their written and photographic record of the island, the islanders and their life; A camera on St Kilda was published in 1897. In it, there is a photograph of a letter from Neil Ferguson sent in a St Kilda mail boat to the mainland. The hand writing appears to be identical to the handwriting in this and other letters from Donald Ferguson.

This is a transcript of Donald's letter:

St Kilda 15th July 1897

Dear Sir

Please send us a hogshead of coal tar, we only got two barrels and 4 pounds 2 inch nails. You must also send 28 slaps for the house and 7yds of felt its empty on both sides of the chimneys. The bull is of no use. We are sending it back by the Dunara. Please send for my mother 20 deals of grooved wood to cover the walls inside 21 feet long ½ inch thick
I hope that you got everything sent you by the Dunara quit safe, I have their casks of oil ready. Our weather is fine and warm, I’ll have fish to send by the Dunara.
I received your letter at present and got the book all right. Norman Gillies cow had her first calve last may

Yours faithfully
Donald Ferguson

I am not quite sure why they thought the bull was no use, maybe something else sired Norman's cow's calf!

Jennifer is in for a very rare experience. However, there are gale force winds expected in St Kilda over the next few days so I hope her tent survives. There are very few people on St Kilda at the moment as the NTS work parties have not yet arrived. Jennifer will experience a little of what the St Kildans lived through; extreme weather and isolation.

Sea kayaking from Portpatrick to the Mull of Logan

A 33km paddle from Portpatrick to the Mull of Logan and back in late February 2010.

Tidal streams in the North Channel, close inshore between Corsewall Point and the Mull of Galloway, run at 5knots springs of Black Head and to the south of it, north of Black head: 4knots off Craig Laggan and 2.5knots off Corsewall Point. Expect to find counter eddies in the bays especially in the last 3 hours of the stream.

NW going ebb -0250 HW Greenock -0130 HW Dover
SE going flood +0310 HW Greenock +0430 HW Dover

There are races SE of Crammag Head and off Mull of Logan, Money Head and Morroch Bay.

In mid channel the streams begin +0130 after the coastal streams.



The Old Man of the Mull of Logan keeps an eye on the Devil's Bridge.


Sunset behind the Portpatrick lighthouse.

Potted pheasant at Portpatrick

Going with the flow on the Rhins of Galloway

A Galloway snow squall warning

Where will we take luncheon today?

Any port in a storm #2

Slack water in the North Channel.

The Old Man of the Mull of Logan.

We four represented the sum of human activity in these parts.

What happens after you test a P&H Cetus LV?

Have you ever heard of Knockienausk Head?

The bright lights of Portpatrick


Photo album map

The bright lights of Portpatrick

Arriving back at Portpatrick, we noticed an unusual thing about the lighthouse. All the panes in the lantern house towards the sea were blacked out by metal shutters, very strange....


...it turns out that after Portpatrick lighthouse was decommissioned in 1900, the villagers, who had no street lights, turned the lantern towards the shore (and the village) and then switched off the flashing mechanism so that the lamp shone continuously onto the village. This "street light" worked well until 1905 when the Lighthouse Board sold the lamp and its mechanism to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). I wonder if the Board only found out about the street light after 5 years of lighting bills?


The observant reader will note that between this photo and the last, some considerable time has passed. What was the the explanation? Had we been transfixed by the undoubted beauty of Portpartick's harbour?

Actually not....when we returned to Phil's car, we discovered that the injured pheasant had made itself quite at home. The once prim interior of Phil's Honda was now like an unkempt hen house. We were stunned that one bird could create so much mayem. Looking at the situation, I felt David's diagnosis of a RTA was wrong. This bird clearly had a severe bowel problem, there was not an inch of surface untouched by bird droppings. Not only that, it was obviously moulting in preparation for the breeding season, there were feathers everywhere. If this was not enough, the ungrateful bird had clearly taken a dislike to the scotch broth mix (the purchase of which had so delayed the morning's departure) and expressed its displeasure by emptying the entire contents of the packet and then scattering them throughout the interior of Phil's car.

Phil is not often given to alliteration but he said quite firmly "I want the ******* pheasant out my car!" There was only one thing for it, in order to placate Phil, David had to buy a round of Guinness over at the Crown Hotel. The pub was crammed but the service was quick and a roaring fire secured a 10/10 for this conveniently situated sea kayaking pub!

I am very grateful to Tom for kindly providing this link of what happened to the pheasant, once David got it back to his veterinary surgery.


When we emerged from the pub, the distant lights of Ireland were twinkling on the horizon. What a great way to end another fantastic outing!

Have you ever heard of Knockienausk Head?

The tide built up as the afternoon wore on...


...and we sped past Money Head.


To the west we could just make out the coast of Northern Ireland and to the east...


...we passed under the cliffs of Gull Rigging and indeed there were a few gulls getting ready to nest on its ledges.


From Knockienausk Head we looked back to headland after headland on the Rhins of Galloway coast. Thanks to tidal assistance, we had rounded quite a few of them on two occasions today!



The sun began to sink rapidly to the horizon above the distant hills surrounding Belfast Lough and we were nearly back in Portpatrick. We had so enjoyed paddling this remote coastline with so many strange names.

What happens after you test a P&H Cetus LV?

The P&H Cetus LV looked good on the sands of Ardwell Bay.


While we were engaged upon our luncheon, the tide race had built up off Money Head in the foreground. Portpatrick lay 12km away under the distant transmitter mast beyond Tandoo Point in the distance.


Several people have emailed asking when I am going to publish the results of our test of the P&H Cetus.


Tony really enjoyed paddling it...


...but the test has been published...


in issue 20 of Ocean Paddler magazine.


I will post a copy of the test here...


...once the next issue of OP is published in 2 month's time.


Until then you will just need to take our word for it that it is a damn fine sea kayak.


At the end of the test Tony ordered a Cetus, which is more appropriate to his weight than the LV.

We four represented the sum of human activity in these parts.

After dallying at the Devil's Bridge, it was now time to retrace our wakes and turn north. We were running with the tide again and were blasted through the narrow gap between Otter Rock and the Mull of Logan.


Incoming swells against the tide made for joyous paddling conditions in the February sunshine.


Once round the Mull, we were grateful for all the tidal assistance we could get. Our destination, Portpatrick, lay beyond the most distant headland. As far as the eye could see, not a single building broke the long line of headlands, bays and cliffs.


Out to sea the horizon was empty and devoid of ships of any size. We four represented the sum of human activity in these parts.


This was a heavy burden to bear and made us feel quite peckish. So we nipped into the shelter of...


...Ardwell Bay for a second luncheon and toast the adventure with the remainder of Phil's Glenlivet malt whisky!