A meeting with the latter day Brownie of Cara at the Mull.

 When we woke on Cara on the third and last day of our trip the skies were overcast but there was no wind or swell which would make ideal conditions to round the Mull of Cara.

We set off round Cara in an anticlockwise direction which took us through the skerries on the island's NW coast.

 An unmistakable odour revealed a number of the island's large goat population.

As soon as we were out of the shelter of the skerries we encountered swell which is often a reason to keep well out but it was just about as flat as I have ever seen it.

Ian had not being expecting the Mull of Cara to be particularly impressive so he was delighted when we first saw its rocky profile.

 It was so calm we were able to paddle right into Dead Man's Bay to the west of the Mull.

 Ian was dwarfed by the scale of the rocks which had fallen from the Mull in a huge landslide in 1756. The resulting tsunami destroyed coastal houses on Cara, Gigha and the west coast of Kintyre as far north as West Loch Tarbert.

 We took it in turn to paddle out to get some good distance shots. It was slack water but when the tide is running against the wind here, photography would be the last thing on your mind.

 High above the sightless stone eyes of the Cara eagle gazed out to the Atlantic. For a time we had had the impression we were being watched and had caught an occasional sight of a small brown figure flitting from rock to rock. Was it the Brownie?...

 Then we say it. It was the alpha male goat of Cara. He was perched on a comfortable rock...

...high on the cliffs of the Mull...

...watching over his flock below. We paddled on leaving the Mull of Cara to the goats and the Brownie.

Brownies, saints and crispy bottoms on Cara.

As we pulled our kayaks up the beach on Cara we saw the first and only glimpse of sunshine on our whole trip. Across the Sound of Gigha, the long sandy strand at Rhunahaorine Point on Kintyre became illuminated by a beautiful warm glow, which contrasted with the dark shaded hills behind. Yet another pair of otters had just swum behind the skerry in the foreground bringing our tally for the day to well into the teens (there had been such a surfeit of otters that we lost count).

Then the sun made a flitting appearance on Cara. It was shining between the narrowest of gaps in the clouds and by the time...

 ...I turned it was already fading but I could still just see my long shadow fading into the sand. Ian was quicker and got some nice sunlight photos here.

Before it got dark we thought we had better nip up to Cara House and pay our respects to the Brownie. Cara House was built in 1733 by the Macdonalds of Largie for their tacksman. It was last used by a resident on Cara in the 1940's when the tenant farmer left. I have written 24 posts on Cara in the past and you can read them here. Despite the large windows the house is a grim looking place and makes a fitting residence for the troubled spirit of the Brownie.

The house has a third attic floor and it is within this that the Brownie has set up residence.

Immediately next to the house lie the remains of Cille Fionnlugh (St Finla's chapel). I have previously written about the mistaken location of St Fionnlugh's chapel but the...

...splayed inshot windows and floor measurements of this building match the description in the Old Statistical Account of Scotland (1793).

We returned to the beach to cook our evening meal (forward planning reserve rations) to make up for the lack of lobsters at the Boathouse. We then got the fire going. We had brought well seasoned logs but had also managed to scour driftwood from the beaches and reefs of Gigha and Gigalum. Then an hour after sunset a remarkable thing happened. The NW wind increased and as it did so the clouds began to clear. We were left with a night sky of stunning clarity. Seldom have we seen the Milky Way shine so brightly. Satellites moved steadily across the sky and meteors left long but short lived trails through the constellations. We had to move back as the wind whipped up the intensity of the flames. I now have a pair of trousers with crispy leg bottoms! Needless to say we baked sweet potatoes and toasted our good fortune with some Jura Origin malt whisky which originates from its home on Jura just on the other side of the Sound of Jura.

The log boat from Gigalum made its way slowly through the skerries.

 The SW coast of Gigha is a delight, offshore skerries and shallow waters with...

 ...a sandy and weed covered bottom create a marvellous environment to journey through.

Ian could not resist landing on a reef to get a little more height for getting photographs of the sea bed. Unfortunately there was still no sign of the sun which would have made his photographs zing!

 As we paddled south, back towards our temporary base on Cara...

 ...there was just a hint in the west that the sun might break through but...

 ...the gap in the clouds was only fleeting. Then...

 ...low grey clouds gathered in as both kayakers and the fishermen on OB595 (Blue Angel from Tarbert) were making their respective ways home. The Gigha community windmills were rotating steadily in a chilling NW breeze. We were glad that yesterday's T shits had been replaced by thermals and dry suits. Once on shore we knew it was going to be a cold night unless we could find some more firewood.

After leaving Gigha we had one further delight. With the haunting calls of curlews, the pip, pip, pipping of oystercatchers and the raucous croaking of a couple of squabbling herons ringing in our ears, we had yet another chance to paddle through the skerries at the...

...south end of Gigalum Island. I even managed to find...

...some decent bits of firewood within the rocky recesses of the skerries.

 From Gigalum Island the white shell sand beach below our camp was now just a kilometer away across the Sound of Cara. We landed just before 6pm. We had only covered 30.4km since leaving that morning but the circumnavigation of Gigha had proved to be full of interest. Although we may not have had the sun, we had enjoyed light winds and only the slightest of swells. This meant we had been able to explore some nooks and crannies on the exposed west coast that would have been all but impossible at most times of the year, never mind in October when the West coast of Scotland is normally blasted by equinoctial gales sweeping in from the Atlantic. On landing again on the shore of Cara, we did not forget to greet the Brownie in the proper and appropriate manner. On Cara one must take nothing for granted...

Crisis on Gigha (or gie us a lobster).

As we set off through the skerries to round the north end of Gigha, the Paps of Jura put in a very brief appearance. A rumble of engines...

 ...announced the passage of the MV Finlaggan on route from Islay to Kennacraig.

 The NE coast of Gigha is dominated by two very large fish farms but...

 ...the views round East Tarbert Bay are still very fine.

 As we passed Port nan Corran (port of the point of land running far into the sea) we saw yet another small creel boat moored in its shelter. Its creels were stowed well above high water mark, the significance of which would hit us later...

 The east coast gets more interesting again at the bold rocks of Ardminish Point. In the distance we could see the sun glowing behind the Mull of Kintyre. Indeed as we were shrouded in grey, my wife was basking in the Indian summer sunshine on the Solway.

We now entered Ardminish Bay and timed our arrival so that we could cross behind the MV Loch Ranza...

 ...as she departed for Tayinloan on Kintyre. The captain gave us a cheery wave from the wheelhouse.

Beyond the ferry jetty lay our destination, The Boathouse where we had dined so well on our last visit. Its door was open and we were salivating with the thought of a brace of juicy Gigha lobsters! Unfortunately as we drew closer we saw that the sign said

"0 Gigha lobsters left, closed till next season."

We had missed it by one day!!! AAARRRGH! So we just had to sit on the picnic table and eat our own wraps with hummus, cheese, olives and grapes. Healthy enough but not in the same league as fresh lobster!

So all was not well on Gigha but we survived. The island is now owned and run by the community but all is not well with that either. Debt has increased but on the positive side so has the population, housing stock and employment. I do hope things work out.

Findings one's niche in the NW of Gigha (by Royal Appointment).

We slipped into Wast Tarbert Bay where the sandy beaches of Camas Naireach (modest bay) lie under the rocky slopes of Creag Bhan which despite being only 100m above sea level is the highest point on Gigha. We met several other otters here and you can see a couple of seals trailing Ian.

At the NE end of Camas Naireach we found this remarkable tertiary dolerite dyke. This is the side view and...

This is the end on view.

Our journey north took us into the recess formed by the tombolo beach that has formed between Eilean Garbh and the mainland of Gigha.

It is a very beautiful spot, favoured by HM the Queen on her visits to the Western Isles on the Royal Yacht Britannia and latterly on the charter MV Hebridean Princess.

It is a hauntingly beatiful spot and the...

...north side of the beach is if anything even more beautiful whichever...

...way you look.

It was with some reluctance that we dragged ourselves away from the north beach. Talking of dragging...rumour has it that somewhere on Gigha a Royal changing box on wheels is in storage awaiting being dragged down to the beach for the next visit by Her Majesty to this wonderful spot.

Anyway, we returned to the south beach with our IKEA bags which...

...we filled with driftwood for the fire once we arrived back on Cara.

It really was a marvellous spot but the day was pressing on so we set off...

...round Eilean Garbh but landed again at...

...tiny Port Cuil (niche port) where we...

...gathered more firewood and looked for Groatie Buckies (cowrie shells).

As it was such a grey day it did not bring out the turquoise in the water, neither could we see the Paps of Jura. However nothing could detract from the beauty of our situation.