Wreck of the Schooner Monreith

There are no harbours accessible at all states of the tide on the whole stretch of the Scottish Solway coast from Gretna in the East to the Mull of Galloway in the west. Following the many indentations of the coast, this is a distance of over 270km. Danger to ships is confounded by the large tidal range of nearly 10m at springs and the extensive sand and mud banks which are exposed at low tide. The whole coast is exposed to southerly winds and swells and if ships were caught out by a storm at low tide they had to try and find shelter at the entrances to the firths. Only when the tide was high could they make their way up the river channels to the shelter of the wharves in such towns as Kirkcudbright.


On the 12th November 1900, the two masted sailing schooner Monreith, from the Galloway port of Wigton, was carrying a load of granite kerb stones from Newcastle in County Down, Northern Ireland to Silloth in England. A storm blew up and she attempted to take shelter in the mouth of Kirkudbright Bay (behind Little Ross Island, the island with the lighthouse on the horizon.) The bay was not yet deep enough and grounded and was driven onto the sand banks of Goat Well Bay where her timbers were pounded by the surf until she sank. Her crew were able to launch a boat in her lee and made their way safely ashore just as the Kirkcudbright lifeboat arrived. Monreith's sturdy timbers can still be seen reflecting in the wet sands at low tide.

22/03/2008


If you launch or land at Dhoon Bay near high water, you will miss this part of the Bay's history.

Goat Well Bay, Nun Mill Bay and Dhoon Bay are pretty much synonymous. Although not used on the map, Dhoon Bay is the current local name.

29/09/2007

Kircudbright slipway

Downstream of the Kirkcudbright fishing fleet moorings, there is a small slipway which gives access to the tidal River Dee. It is very near the main public car park in Kirkcudbright and if you launch here shortly before high tide, you can explore the upper tidal reaches of the Dee to Tongland. You can then follow the ebb out to Dhoon shore and pick up a shuttle car there. Once a spring ebb starts to run it belts along about 9 knots so you want to get the timing right. Alternatively you can continue out of Kirkcudbright Bay, through the tidal races of Little Ross Sound and paddle round to Brighouse Bay.

The attractive harbour cottage was due to be demolished in 1957 but was reprieved and converted into a gallery.

22/03/2008

The fishermen of Kirkcudbright Harbour

The fishing fleet is in, bringing colour to Kirkcudbright Harbour.

Like Maidens, Kirkcudbright's fishing fleet declined during the first half of the 20th century. Then in the late 1950's a revival started after local man, John King, started lobster and scallop fishing. Gradually the number and size of the boats increased and construction changed from wood to steel. Today there is only one traditional wooden Scottish boat left. She is the "Fredwood" on the extreme right of the photograph. Most of the boats are scallop dredgers but "Argo", the small boat in the foreground, is a cockle dredger. One of the biggest boats is the blue boat, third from the right. She is the "King Explorer" and is part of the John King fleet.

A local economy has built round the fishing fleet; fish processing, dredging gear manufacturers, suppliers etc.. Local restaurants serve fresh scallops which make an excellent starter before a succulent grass fed Galloway fillet steak.


All this has come at a cost, in 1985 the "Mhari-L" was lost with all 5 hands. Then in 2000 the "Solway Harvester" was lost with all 7 hands. Both vessels were lost in the Irish sea between Galloway and the Isle of Man. On their way to the boats, fishermen walk past a memorial dedicated to the women and children of this and other Galloway fishing communities who have lost their menfolk.

22/03/2008

Maidens Harbour

Maidens Harbour wall was originally built to allow commericial fishing boats to remain at mooring rather than be dragged up out of the water onto the foreshore.


It does a really good job of protecting the enclosed harbour on what is a relatively exposed piece of coast.


Behind the wall the sea remains calm but over the years the harbour has silted up with sand.


The harbour has been taken over by the Maidens Community Harbour Trust. With the aid of a local authority grant, they bought a dredging barge and a dump truck. Volunteers are dredging the harbour but this time for recreational use.

O6/04/2008

A rest day on the Clyde.

As we drove south along the road above the cliffs south of Ayr the snow clouds that had gathered round parts of central Scotland cleared leaving a beautiful sunny afternoon. From a height of 125 meters, the sea below Balchriston Farm and Culzean Castle looked quite flat. Nontheless it looked a bit breezy for a crossing to Ailsa Craig! On the way south we had followed a 4x4 with 2 sea kayaks on the roof. It turned down the road to Dunure. Not an easy launch at high spring tide, I thought.


When we got to Maidens launching looked slightly problematical.


The cold north wind had generated some surprising waves, even in the confines of the Firth of Clyde. Surprisingly the hills of Arran had escaped the morning snowstorm which had hit Glasgow.


Even the sea birds were resting. I realized why I had left the kayaks at home.

06/04/2008

A maritime climate

Scotland has a maritime climate. Although it stretches from 54 degrees North at the Mull of Galloway in the SW to 60 degrees North at Muckle Flugga in Shetland in the NE, we do not get a great deal of snow. This is because the prevailing wind comes from the SW as does the warm sea current, the Gulf stream. Otherwise we would be frozen solid in winter and not enjoy our winter sea kayaking.

However, if the wind swings to the north we get snow, like this morning!


This was the 31st of May in 1978 at Loch Morlich in the Cairngorms. As you would expect from the time of year, children are paddling in the loch. However, the previous weekend the wind had come in from the north and resulted in a huge dump of snow. We skied late that year!

One model of Global warming is that the Gulf stream might switch off, in which case we will be, paradoxically, frozen in winter in a warmer world.

Sannox sunset

After getting off the ferry at Ardrossan, we returned to our departure point at Portencross as the sun was setting.


The winter sky turned to gold..


... as it set to the north of the Sannox mountains on Arran.


The setting sun's last rays had left the mountain tops in the gathering cold and darkness of night. But even after the sun had sunk well below the horizon, the tops of high clouds still caught the last of the fleeting winter day.


A perfect winter's day.

18/03/2008

Nae half pint glasses in Mac's Bar, Brodick

We emerged from the sea at the top of the slipway and blinked in Brodick's late winter afternoon sunlight. We were both seriously drouthy but, to our delight, we discovered that the slipway was truly conveniently located. We spied Mac's Bar, an unassuming 70's appendage to one of Brodicks waterfront hotels.


The convenient parking for kayaks caught the reviewer's eye.


If one reads the TripAdvisor review for this bar and its attached hotel one might choose to pass by.

"Not only is the hotel a complete disgrace, it boasts its very own working mens club also known as Macs Bar."

"On going to Mac's Bar, it was full of what appeared to be workmen who obviously only know how to converse in the vernacular."

"The first round of drinks I got was a joke, there were no half pint glasses."

Well with a name like Mac's Bar, Tony and I were certainly not expecting the Ritz cocktail lounge, with free paper umbrellas in sugary drinks. Tony and I are (edukatit) working men. We speak the vernacular. Neither of us even knew you get half pint glasses, certainly not in a bar!! We were thirsty. We went in.

The barman was a mature gentleman with a quick eye. He had spotted us paddling across the bay and he must have identified us as Guinness drinkers from afar. I swear he started pouring the the first pint of ice cold Guinness before we had even got to the bar. He courteously asked where we had paddled from and by the time the pints were poured he had said he hoped we had enjoyed our visit to Arran.

Sitting by the window, Tony enjoyed a view of Goatfell and I had a view of the bay, with the heavy responsibility of alerting Tony when our boat came in.

The Guinness (in pint glasses) was excellent.

Well despite the Tripadvisor reviews, we can thoroughly recommend Mac's Bar (and slipway).



Leaving the bar, we eventually found our way to the MV Caledonian Isles using a map Tony had sketched on the back of a napkin. No longer thirsty, we were now looking forward to Calmac's acclaimed chicken curry, rice AND chips on the crossing back to Ardrossan.

I am very sorry if you have visited this blog with the expectation of reading about great circumnavigations or huge open crossings. Tony and I neither had the inclination to circumnavigate Arran nor to paddle back to Ardrossan. That's what ferries are for!

18/03/2008

An Arran arrival at Brodick Bay

We crossed the great sweep of Brodick Bay, which is skirted by beautiful reddish sands. Until very recently you would not have chosen to go for a summer swim in this lovely spot due to the dreaded Clyde bananas. However, in 2005 the crude sewage outfall was finally replaced by a new sewage treatment system.


A side effect of the building of this system is that Brodick now has a new public slipway. This is conveniently situated close to the ferry pier. We leaned back and pulled our kayaks up the slip on their trolleys as the snow clouds started to gather again round Arran's rocky ridges.

It had been a long hard paddle and we were both suffering from an unslaked thirst as we turned to take a first look at Brodick....

18/03/2008

Goatfell

In a perilously thirsty state, we proceeded down the east coast of Arran until we entered Brodick Bay. I turned back to view the mountains.


Goatfell is the highest of Arran's mountains. It is 874 m or 2868 feet so is not a Munro but it is a fine view from the top.


Here is another view of Goatfell, from the top of nearby Cir Mhor.

18/03/2008

Kaya-Jet review

Over the last year the staff at seakayakphoto.com have been doing quite a lot of paddling in tidal waters. Robert Burns our National Bard wrote "Nae Man can tether time nor tide..." and he was right.

We have often been frustrated when slow service in a sea kayaking pub has delayed our departure and caused us to miss a tidal window. It's no fun battling through even a short tidal channel against the flow and you certainly don't want to hang around until the tide changes. Another scenario involved an attractive looking pub at the head of a sea loch with a narrow entrance out of which the ebb was pouring. We paddled like fury but got nowhere, we had missed the tide and were just about to miss closing time. What was required was a little lateral thinking.

Have you noticed how the capacity of rechargeable NIMH batteries has been creeping up?


Now imagine ten of these babies in series in a battery box snug in your day hatch. Yes that makes 27amp hours of juice! That's easily enough to kill a herd of elephants!! What would you do with that amount power? Play all 8000 songs on your iPod? Well more lateral thinking is required.


Rule have just released a 12v 5000 gallon per hour bilge pump. That's over 5 litres per second. Or put another way, 300kg of water shifted every minute. A plan was hatching. I took my ideas to Geoff Turner at Kari-Tek...


An intake was drilled in the cockpit floor behind the seat. Geoff made a moulding into which the pump fitted. The outlet hose runs back through the day hatch into a nicely faired tube at the front of a modified Hydro Skeg box. It points back... YES the Kaya-Jet was born!


Tony and I took a Kaya-Jet equipped Nordkapp LV to our favourite tidal playground in the Sound of Luing. At full spring ebb it just wasn't possible to paddle uphill against the tide. Tony tried about 6 times, I tried about 3 and we were both knackered.

Now the real test. Tony pressed the 25amp switch and whoosh, the kayak surged forward, he still paddled as hard as he could of course, but the difference was he was through the channel in less than 45 seconds, all together the pump had only run for just over 90 seconds! Success!


In further trials on the measured mile in the Clyde (note the white transit posts on the hill) we have found that the pump draws about 15 amps average over the mile. That means it will run for nearly 2 hours!

Geoff had also built in a slider into the moulding that the pump intake sits in. If you are out of the boat after a capsize, slide the slider to port. This closes the under hull intake and now the pump sucks from the cockpit. Renter roll and your boat is full of water but now you have the most powerful pump on the planet and it empties in a jiffy at the same time as supplying forward thrust! One caveat for gentlemen, I wouldn't risk firing up in pump mode if you are wearing only loose boxers. There's a lot of suction down there!

I know this is only a prototype and I have to declare a vested interest but, all the same, I award Kaya-Jet, this innovative new design, 10/10.

Already I can hear the howls of protest from the traditionalists, who chew their own catgut to stitch their skin boats together. I do not mind, sea kayaking is a broad church and I am certainly not a traditionalist!

Look out for Kaya-Jet in a kayaking store near you in about 18 months time. If you really can't wait that long, we have another prototype that need testing with a bigger pump and more batteries!

Sammy the Loch Moidart seal pup.

We spotted Sammy, a grey seal pup, through a gap in the skerries in Loch Moidart. Its mother was basking on a nearby rock. We did not speak and moved on silently, leaving them undisturbed.

Hundreds of thousands of other seal pups are not so fortunate. I have no doubt that my ancestors did this sort of thing on a small scale to survive. I also know that some of my ancestors were whalers. Again they did this to survive.

Part of the evolution of human society and the development of our humanity is surely to reach an awareness that the other animals that we share this Earth with should not be abused. We should respect them and if we do not need to slaughter them to survive we shouldn’t. Of course this seal cull is really just the tip of the shitty iceberg of the way in which our species treats this world and everything in it. What a far sighted lot we are.

Fortunately for Sammy, here in Scotland sealing and whaling are not seen as an essential part of our heritage and identity and, as such, there is no call for their continuance on cultural grounds. There is still a small number of hunters who shoot deer and birds for sport but perhaps not so many as in North America. Maybe there is a cultural difference and need in some parts of Canada but most photos of sealers I have seen are of people of European origin, many of them probably of Scottish decent. Does the economic survival of one of the wealthiest countries in the World really depend on this slaughter?

I am no vegan but I try to meat that has come from animals that have been well treated and humanely killed. I avoid 99p chickens!

Rolf has something to say as well.

10/10/2004

Two harbours Corrie, nor any drop to drink.

From Sannox we proceeded south along the east coast of Arran until we came upon the delightful hamlet of Corrie. Despite its diminutive size, Corrie boasts two harbours. We were by now exceedingly parched and Thirsty Tony suggested landing at the Corrie Hotel for a little liquid sustenance.


The landing on the rocky foreshore was not easy, the bay immediately below the hotel sported a large sewage pipe. We did not wish to discover if this was still a source of Clyde bananas so we moved further south.


Thirsty Tony strides purposefully towards the Corrie Hotel.

First impression was encouraging. The hotel is the largest building in the village and is solidly constructed from the local red sandstone. The door to the grand entrance portico squeaked loudly as we pushed it open. To the experienced reviewer, this did not seem like a potral that has recently been well excercised servicing the arrivals and departures of needy travellers. Inside was like the Marie Celeste, a dry, dusty glass stood alone in a corner. The bar looked as if it had been abandoned in a hurry, there were no bodies under the tables. A line from the Rime of the Ancient Mariner came to mind: "nor any drop to drink".

The late winter sun shown down through the windows. Motionless dusty sunbeams hung in the still cold air and nothing stirred to disturb the particles of dust.

"Hello" I croaked (I was thirsty after all).

"Anybody there?" added an equally hoarse Tony.

Somewhere deep in the bowels of the house another door creaked followed by a slight shuffling noise. After what seamed like an age, a delightful old lady appeared in her slippers with a woolen shawl tightly wrapped round her shoulders to ward off the chill. She looked at us expectantly.

"Is it possible to get a drink please?" asked Tony, pointing towards the empty bar.

She didn't seem to understand as she replied "They've all gone."

"Gone where?" I asked, sensing a mystery.

"For the winter." muttered Tony under his breath, which condensed in the cold air.

"Are you boys geologists?" she enquired.

"Actually we are sea kayakers." I replied before apologising for disturbing her afternoon and bidding her farewell.



Our visit was in the week before the Easter weekend, we thought a tourist business would be delighted to see our custom after a long winter. However, we were not seen as the first swallows of spring. We left the premises as dry as we had arrived. This, it has to be said was a first for the staff of seakayakphoto.com. Tony and I are generous in our assessments of sea kayaking hostelries but on this occasion, I am afraid we have to award this establishment 0/10. That's right, nul point.

If you visit in the summer you may well find this to be a welcoming establishment with its taps running free and its glasses overflowing with refreshing liquids but we cannot recommend it for a winter refreshment.

We do however, plan to return...

18/03/2008

The heather on fire in an empty land.

Leaving Garroch Head it was an 11km crossing to Glen Sannox at the north east end of Arran. During the crossing we had the ebb tide running to the SE out of the Sound of Bute and a wind that increased to force 4 from the NW. We had to use quite a high ferry angle to counteract the effects of wind and tide.


At last we approached the bay at the mouth of the glen. We felt dwarfed by the mountains of Cir Mhor and Caisteal Abhail with its serrated ridge, Ceum na Caillich (the old woman's step). Glen Sannox has been populated for thousands of years. There are standing stones and an Iron Age fort but the saddest signs of past habitation are the outlines of once fertile runrigs (small raised fields) and the stones of flattend cottages.


The Vikings called the great sweep of golden sand "Sand-vik" (sandy bay) which was corrupted to the present day Sannox. This was once the most populous part of Arran but in 1832 the Duke of Hamilton cleared the crofters off the land of the Glen. Half a century later, a poet, Mathilde Blind, visited Arran and wrote this:

I stood on the site of such a ruined village. All that remained of the once flourishing community was a solitary old Scotchwoman, who well remembered her banished countrymen. Her simple story had a thrilling pathos, told as it was on the melancholy slopes of the North Glen Sannox, looking across to the wild broken mountain ridges called "The Old Wife's Steps." Here, she said, and as far as one could see, had dwelt the Glen Sannox people, the largest population then collected in any one spot of the island, and evicted by the Duke of Hamilton in the year 1832. The lives of these crofters became an idyll in her mouth. She dwelt proudly on their patient labour, their simple joys, and the kind, helpful ways of them; and her brown eyes filled with tears as she recalled the day of their expulsion, when the people gathered from all parts of the island to see the last of the Glen Sannox folk ere they went on board the brig that was bound for New Brunswick, in Canada. "Ah, it was a sore day that," she sighed, "when the old people cast themselves down on the seashore and wept."

Mathilde Blind went on to write a poem about the Clearances called "The Heather on Fire".

From 1840 to 1862 the Duke ran a baryte (barium sulphate) mine in the glen. It reopened in 1919 and a wooden pier was built on the sands with a light railway connecting it to the mine. The mine closed in 1938 and the pier and the railway were removed in the late 1940s. You can still see the bases of the pier columns in the sands.

18/03/2008

Porpoises of Garroch Head

We drifted in the ebb tide past Garroch Head at the south end of Bute. We were in the lee of the rocks and the water was near glassy.


All of a sudden a school of porpoises appeared, rolling in the current. I have often seen them here and in similar tidal flows off the west coast of Scotland. In the distance you can see Holy Island with Ailsa Craig beyond.

Clyde Bananas

The cold sea air and early morning start had given us an appetite so we decided to make Glencallum Bay on the south end of Bute our first landfall. As the ebb had already started we had to cross the channel at a surprisingly high ferry angle. In southerly winds a surprisingly heavy race develops off nearby Garroch Head.

Until relatively recently, Glasgow’s sewage sludge boat the SS Shieldhall (or SS Gardy Loo as she was known to the hoi poloi) used to make her way here from the Shieldhall sewage works in the river Clyde. She would proceed to dump her load in the ebb tide. Glaswegians were so partial to little trips “doon the water” that it was possible to buy tickets for a sailing on the SS Gardy Loo to witness the spectacle of their fellow citizens’ keech spilling out on this beautiful sea. She was one of a succession of “Clyde Banana Boats” It has to be said a Clyde Banana was far from yellow.

Fortunately we live in slightly more enlightened times and our appetites and lunch were not spoiled by the appearance of any Clyde Bananas on this now delightful shore.



In the days of sailing ships Glencallum Bay offered shelter from northerly winds and the bay was often filled with anchored vessels waiting for better conditions. These few stones are all that remains of a popular drinking establishment which served their needs. We too enjoyed the shelter of the bay. We took in the view to the southwest over the Rubh an Eun light to the Little Cumbrae and the distant Ayrshire coast beyond but it would be much later before we could slake our thirsts.

18/03/2008

The freedom of sea kayaking

We continued on our 20 km crossing to the island of Arran. As the clouds to the south slipped away, the soaring ridges of the Glen Sannox mountains were illuminated by the late winter sunshine and stood out boldly as they reached for the sky. The cold north wind had brought crystal clear air from the Arctic and the distant snow dusted summits seemed so close.

As our bows rose and fell to the rhythm of the dark backed waves, this song came into my head:

I'll sing my song to the
wide open spaces
I'll sing my heart out to
the infinite sea
I'll sing my visions to the
sky high mountains
I'll sing my song to the
free, to the free

Pete Townshend, The Who

We had never felt so free.