Our first port of call was the River Doon.
It was high tide so we were able to paddle right up to the tidal weir...
...and give the kayaks a quick rinse...
...before heading back downstream. Since the 1930's the Doon has lost a third of its flow, which is pumped through the hills of its watershed into the catchment of the River Dee. This river flows into the Solway through a series of dams which generate electricity. Now the Spanish power company, Iberdrola, plans to reduce the flow by diverting another 40% into the Dee.
No wonder we made progress at a gentle rate, past the unused salmon fishers' cottage (there used to be more salmon) and...
...back towards the river mouth and...
...the Firth of Clyde beyond. Hydro Electric is green energy. I do hope the critters, in the river Doon, such as the freshwater pearl mussels, sea lampreys, salmon, otters, kingfishers, saucer bugs, white water kayakers etc. appreciate that this green initiative is jolly good for them.
Imagine you are at the edge of the sea on a day when it is difficult to say where the land ends and the sea begins and where the sea ends and the sky begins. Sea kayaking lets you explore these and your own boundaries and broadens your horizons. Sea kayaking is the new mountaineering.
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
"Did you see those three madmen at Seafield?".
After the recent snows, the Ayrshire coast was one of the few places in Scotland not to be under a blanket of snow. Even the Arran mountains seemed to have escaped with a light dusting. However, a chill northerly breeze kept the temperature down to minus two Celsius.
Phil, Jim and I had left shuttle cars at Maidens and then driven back to Seafield at Ayr for a trip past three of the four castles of Carrick. It took longer to get ready than usual as dog walkers, joggers and cyclists all stopped to enquire about the state of our mental well being.
Our destination, and two of the castles, lay well beyond the distant Heads of Ayr.
The cold breeze helped us on our way,
Although the first castle, Greenan, was in sight, it was not to be our first port of call...
Phil, Jim and I had left shuttle cars at Maidens and then driven back to Seafield at Ayr for a trip past three of the four castles of Carrick. It took longer to get ready than usual as dog walkers, joggers and cyclists all stopped to enquire about the state of our mental well being.
Our destination, and two of the castles, lay well beyond the distant Heads of Ayr.
The cold breeze helped us on our way,
Although the first castle, Greenan, was in sight, it was not to be our first port of call...
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Snowy Glasgow
We had a little more snow in Glasgow yesterday, we have had snow in the garden since Friday 26th November.
It took over 4 hours to get home from work yesterday. My wife abandoned her car but I picked her up and was mighty glad to get the car home. A rear wheel drive automatic is not the best on snow but winter tyres made all the difference.
We were lucky some people had to spend the night in snow bound traffic jams as the country ground to a halt.
I hope it thaws enough to go paddling at the weekend! We are lucky having the Gulf Stream to paddle through the winter. I would hate to only have pool sessions for a winter kayaking fix.
It took over 4 hours to get home from work yesterday. My wife abandoned her car but I picked her up and was mighty glad to get the car home. A rear wheel drive automatic is not the best on snow but winter tyres made all the difference.
We were lucky some people had to spend the night in snow bound traffic jams as the country ground to a halt.
I hope it thaws enough to go paddling at the weekend! We are lucky having the Gulf Stream to paddle through the winter. I would hate to only have pool sessions for a winter kayaking fix.
Winter has arrived on the Clyde.
The sun slipped away behind the Little Cumbrae and Arran.
We now started our crossing of the Hunterston shipping channel.
As we approached the Hunterston deep water ore terminal we could hear the noise of the grab cranes unloading the MV Red Gardenia.
She was built in 2005 and has a dead weight of 76,300tons. After unloading here for another 36 hours she left for she left for Port Skaw in Denmark then Kokkola in Finland.
We now started our crossing of the Hunterston shipping channel.
As we approached the Hunterston deep water ore terminal we could hear the noise of the grab cranes unloading the MV Red Gardenia.
She was built in 2005 and has a dead weight of 76,300tons. After unloading here for another 36 hours she left for she left for Port Skaw in Denmark then Kokkola in Finland.
The sun was well down by the time we landed at Largs. We packed our gear in the light of our car headlamps. It was so cold that my finger tips are still numb 9 days later. Winter has arrived on the Clyde.
Monday, December 06, 2010
Mad dogs and seakayakers smitten by the cold in the Tan.
Rounding Gull point at the south of Little Cumbrae island we now faced a 10km paddle into a cold NE breeze. The big chill had begun!
We sought some shelter by taking the inside passage between Little Cumbrae and Castle Island.
I wonder if a committee chose the name of this little and if so how many times they met?
Tony said hello to the caretaker's friendly but barking mad little dogs...
...before we set off across the Tan again. Great Cumbrae's largest settlement, Millport, nestles round the north side of the Tan.
HMS Smiter, an Archer class RN patrol boat, sped past us. She belongs to the Univerities' Royal Naval Unit of Glasgow. We carried on at a steady 6km/hr.
We sought some shelter by taking the inside passage between Little Cumbrae and Castle Island.
I wonder if a committee chose the name of this little and if so how many times they met?
Tony said hello to the caretaker's friendly but barking mad little dogs...
...before we set off across the Tan again. Great Cumbrae's largest settlement, Millport, nestles round the north side of the Tan.
HMS Smiter, an Archer class RN patrol boat, sped past us. She belongs to the Univerities' Royal Naval Unit of Glasgow. We carried on at a steady 6km/hr.
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Only 40km from the City, escape to a Clyde wilderness.
As we left the lighthouse, the container ship MV Canopus J was making her way down the Firth of Clyde from Greenock to Bilbao. She was built in 2004 and measures 140m x 20m. She is equipped to carry dangerous cargo in hold 2.
Back at sea level we had time for a second luncheon and enjoyed the silence of our isolation and escape, from the everyday World...
...before hitting the sea again. As we paddled below the 1995 lighthouse, Tony noticed the lighthouse spoil heap below a gap in the cliffs. No doubt this will make interesting digging for future archaeologists.
On our left the rocks of Little Cumbrae fell steeply into the sea.
To our right the low winter sun was dipping to the horizon in the SW.
The low sun gave the cliffs a warm glow which belied the winter chill in the air. We felt remote from civilisation but the wild SW coast of Little Cumbrae is only 40km from the outskirts of Glasgow!
Alan got his camera out again in the calm of the lee of the island.
As the cliffs fell away to Gull Point, we slowly returned to civilisation. Above the point, we could see the wind turbines on the mainland were turning quickly in the north wind. It would be a stiff cold paddle back to Largs and reality...
Back at sea level we had time for a second luncheon and enjoyed the silence of our isolation and escape, from the everyday World...
...before hitting the sea again. As we paddled below the 1995 lighthouse, Tony noticed the lighthouse spoil heap below a gap in the cliffs. No doubt this will make interesting digging for future archaeologists.
On our left the rocks of Little Cumbrae fell steeply into the sea.
To our right the low winter sun was dipping to the horizon in the SW.
The low sun gave the cliffs a warm glow which belied the winter chill in the air. We felt remote from civilisation but the wild SW coast of Little Cumbrae is only 40km from the outskirts of Glasgow!
Alan got his camera out again in the calm of the lee of the island.
As the cliffs fell away to Gull Point, we slowly returned to civilisation. Above the point, we could see the wind turbines on the mainland were turning quickly in the north wind. It would be a stiff cold paddle back to Largs and reality...
Saturday, December 04, 2010
The decay of the Little Cumbrae lighthouse, does anybody care?
We approached the Little Cumbrae lighthouse from the sea. It is positioned...
...on a raised beach which lies behind a low cliff rising from the current sea level. The "Nature Reserve No Access" sign was put up by one of the previous owners who was more interested in privacy than nature.
A large winch hauled supplies from the landing stage up a light rail track to the base of the cliff.
A jib crane then lifted the supplies up to the top of the cliff.
The boathouse is still remarkably dry inside.
At the top of the cliffs, to the south of the lighthouse, a white washed building houses the long silent diesel generators.
Behind the generator house a plain concrete building houses the new automated light which was built in 1997.
From the new lighthouse we walked up to the walled complex of the old lighthouse and the keepers' cottages. Robina McLaren tells of her childhood in these cottages from 1960-63.
Most of the windows were still glazed...
...but sadly some of the sashes had collapsed, letting rain into these fine old buildings of pink sandstone.
The detail and workmanship was astounding.
Inside the empty rooms, the rain had done surprisingly little damage to the hardwood floors and even the plaster on the walls was in reasonable condition. The gentle moaning of the wind at the empty windows now replaced the voices of generations of keepers and their families that once lived here.
The upstairs rooms had a marvellous view of the lighthouse and Arran and Bute beyond.
We walked from the keepers' cottages towards the lighthouse, topped by its beautiful copper cupola. It was built by Thomas Smith and Robert Stevenson in 1793.
From the balustrade round the base of the lighthouse we looked south past the crane, and the new lighthouse...
...to Holy Island and distant Ailsa Craig
Entering the lighthouse through a door that was jammed open we found the control panel for the battery charger ...
...and the banks of lead acid batteries.
In the basement of the tower another panel controlled the operation of the light and its lenses.
We now climbed up the spiral...
...staircase and ladders to the gantry that runs...
...round the inside of the lantern room. Sadly the light and lenses have been removed. To the west, the view extended right across the Firth of Clyde.
To the east, the lantern room overlooked the keepers' cottages which we had recently explored.
Even the chimney pots had wonderful detailing.
Beyond the cottages, a track snaked up the hillside towards the houses on the east side of the island.
The base of the lighthouse had small open "portholes" that went right through the wall.
If you stuck your eye up to the hole you could look right through the tower and out through an identical and perfectly aligned porthole on the opposite wall. I wonder what they were for?
It seems such a pity that these beautiful old buildings are being allowed to decay. The people who designed and built them showed more care. The keepers who kept the place spic and span for the regular inspections would have been horrified.
Looking down, we could see the rising tide had nearly reached the kayaks; it was time to leave the lighthouse to the elements and to its inevitable decay.
...on a raised beach which lies behind a low cliff rising from the current sea level. The "Nature Reserve No Access" sign was put up by one of the previous owners who was more interested in privacy than nature.
A large winch hauled supplies from the landing stage up a light rail track to the base of the cliff.
A jib crane then lifted the supplies up to the top of the cliff.
The boathouse is still remarkably dry inside.
At the top of the cliffs, to the south of the lighthouse, a white washed building houses the long silent diesel generators.
Behind the generator house a plain concrete building houses the new automated light which was built in 1997.
From the new lighthouse we walked up to the walled complex of the old lighthouse and the keepers' cottages. Robina McLaren tells of her childhood in these cottages from 1960-63.
Most of the windows were still glazed...
...but sadly some of the sashes had collapsed, letting rain into these fine old buildings of pink sandstone.
The detail and workmanship was astounding.
Inside the empty rooms, the rain had done surprisingly little damage to the hardwood floors and even the plaster on the walls was in reasonable condition. The gentle moaning of the wind at the empty windows now replaced the voices of generations of keepers and their families that once lived here.
The upstairs rooms had a marvellous view of the lighthouse and Arran and Bute beyond.
We walked from the keepers' cottages towards the lighthouse, topped by its beautiful copper cupola. It was built by Thomas Smith and Robert Stevenson in 1793.
From the balustrade round the base of the lighthouse we looked south past the crane, and the new lighthouse...
...to Holy Island and distant Ailsa Craig
Entering the lighthouse through a door that was jammed open we found the control panel for the battery charger ...
...and the banks of lead acid batteries.
In the basement of the tower another panel controlled the operation of the light and its lenses.
We now climbed up the spiral...
...staircase and ladders to the gantry that runs...
...round the inside of the lantern room. Sadly the light and lenses have been removed. To the west, the view extended right across the Firth of Clyde.
To the east, the lantern room overlooked the keepers' cottages which we had recently explored.
Even the chimney pots had wonderful detailing.
Beyond the cottages, a track snaked up the hillside towards the houses on the east side of the island.
The base of the lighthouse had small open "portholes" that went right through the wall.
If you stuck your eye up to the hole you could look right through the tower and out through an identical and perfectly aligned porthole on the opposite wall. I wonder what they were for?
It seems such a pity that these beautiful old buildings are being allowed to decay. The people who designed and built them showed more care. The keepers who kept the place spic and span for the regular inspections would have been horrified.
Looking down, we could see the rising tide had nearly reached the kayaks; it was time to leave the lighthouse to the elements and to its inevitable decay.