The scent of the virgin's breast in spring.

From Corrie we cut across the expanse of...

...Sannox Bay. The wind had freshened and one of us stuck with Andrew as the rest sped on, with spray flying, towards the sands...

 ...of Sannox where we got a fine view of Cioch na h-Oighe...

 ...the Virgin's Breast.

We took our luncheon in the shelter of the yellow flowering gorse bushes. Their coconut scent was quite intoxicating . David proposed a toast "to the virgin" and she was well and truly toasted.

Bursting buds of March on Arran.

A little breeze sped us on the way up the east cost of Arran and towards the little village of Corrie.  We were already pleasantly warm in the unseasonal high temperature.

Corrie has several harbours. This one is the southern "sandstone harbour" from which sandstone from the quarries in the hills behind the village were exported to build the Crinan Canal locks in nearby Kintyre. Note the bollards whhich are shaped and painted like sheep.

Marvin's wood carved seal always guarantees a seal sighting in these parts.

The houses of Corrie form a typical Scottish ribbon development along a raised beach. They are tucked between the steep mountains behind and the sea in front. These houses are beside the northern "limestone harbour" which exported the limestone which was mined in the hills above. The proximity of sandstone and limestone hints at Arran's interesting geology and at this time of year geology students from many universities are spending their field trips tramping the hills and coastlines of Arran.

Off the Corrie shore, we passed the special buoy that marks the southern boundary of the Sound of Bute submarine exercise area. We would find more about this area later the next day...

 We put Andrew through his paces, testing his forward paddling technique as we continued...

...along the coast of red sandstone slabs. Foothills, clad with deciduous trees, tumbled to the shore from high, bare granite ridges above. The trees were bursting into bud.

All afloat on Brodick Bay

My next series of posts will record of our adventures paddling round Arran over a period of five glorious days at the end of March. For reasons too complicated to explain, the party on day one was not the same as on days 2 to 5!

 Phil David, Tony, Andrew and I convened at the...

 ...Ardrossan Ferry Terminal and loaded our kayaks onto MV Caledonian Isles.

After the full trucker's breakfast we disembarked at Brodick and watched as the Caledonian Isles quickly disappeared into the mist.

Andrew will shortly be sitting his 3* and wanted to get some experience of open crossings. Today would be ideal. We would be doing two crossings of about 10km on our way back to Ayrshire via Bute. The mist would also mean that we would be setting off into a featureless horizon with no sign of the other side until about two thirds of the way across. The spring tides would add to the mix!

 Phil was beaming from ear to ear as we set off across Brodick Bay.

Tony hasn't been out for a while and was catching up with several episodes of David's stories!

Brodick Castle was just visible through the haze and the Scots pines that now surround it.

End of another glorious day.

 From the Little Cumbrae we sped back across the Hunterston Channel...

 ...on a broad reach towards Portencross Castle...

...where the tide was fully out. Phil and Tony helped me with the kayak over the rough stuff and we kept the sails up to assist the haul up the beach.

Packing the gear into the car we enjoyed another view across to Arran bringing another fantastic day on the water to a close.

Who let the dogs out?

After our mad dash down the Sound of Bute, we swung round the east side of Little Cumbrae to take a break at its castle.

No sooner had we spread our light luncheon victuals than the islands pack of dogs raced up to investigate our arrival with much barking.

As soon as they realized that sandwiches were available the barking stopped.

They then hung round with the most pitifully hungry hang dog expressions. This despite looking like some of the best fed dogs in all of those many isles that lie scattered furth the mainland of Scotland.

Long after the sandwiches had disappeared, much snuffling round the rocks ensured that not even the smallest crumb was missed.

Time for a light luncheon in the lee of Little Cumbrae.

We paddled out into the Sound of Bute and unleashed the sails, ready for a 12 km downwind blast back to Portencross.

 At first the wind was light but even so...

 ...paddle sailing proved faster than yachting.

 The wind increased as we approached Garroch Head...

 ...and we virtually flew across the Firth of Clyde  Channel towards Little Cumbrae island.

 It was big smiles all round as...

 ...we made our final approach below the Stevenson lighthouse...

 ...leaving the island of Bute far in our wakes.

It was time to break out into the lee of Little Cumbrae for a light luncheon.

Playtime before some action at Dunagoil.

We landed in a tiny inlet to the north of Garroch Head with an amazing view over to the Glen Sannox mountains of Arran.

The bed rock at the side of the bay had eroded into weird pedestals, some had a tiny basin of water in the top.

As we lay basking in the unexpected sunshine...

...we developed a new pastime, trying to throw pebbles into the bowls of water on top of the rocky pinnacles.

 After our leisurely luncheon, we continued NW up the coast of Bute.

 Looking back we could even see as far as Holy Island on the east of Arran.

We arrived at the rocky Port Dornach which is situated under the overhanging site of the vitrified Dunagoil Iron Age hill fort.

We were just pondering whether to land for a second luncheon when a yacht in the Sound of Bute began hoisting its sails. The wind had arrived and it was time for some action.