Better days: the wreck of the Wasa

We spent some time exploring...


...the magnificent strand of Balnahard beach on Colonsay.


Below the high water mark we found the remains of a wooden steamship, the SS Wasa. In 1919 she caught fire and was being towed to safety when she stranded here and was lost.


In this view you can see Scarba on the left, the Gulf of Corryvreckan and Jura to the right. We would have liked to have stayed all day but we knew we had to get to the south end of Colonsay and cross the 15km to Jura before night fall. We prepared to put to sea again, unlike the Wasa, which has seen better days.

Balnahard beach, Colonsay

Balnahard beach at the north end of Colonsay...


...is quite simply...


...stunning!

Choughed to get round the top of Colonsay

The swell on the north west coast of Colonsay was about two metres and it pushed us steadily towards the north of the island. On the horizon, from the left we could see Mull, the entrance to Loch Linnhe, the Garvellachs, the rounded mass of Scarba then the north end of Jura. We felt very small and exposed out here.


We kept well out as many reefs extend out from the coast. Spray from the surf hung in the air below the dark cliffs. We decided not to take the inside channel behind little Eilean Dubh.


Finally we rounded the northernmost point of Colonsay...


...and entered another world of calm seas and sunshine.


As we passed below the northern cliffs we heard the high pitched cawing of the red billed chough, a rare member of the crow family. We watched their aerobatics as they soared in the updraught of the cliffs. All in all, we felt somewhat relieved and quite choughed to get round the top of Colonsay!

The seakayakphoto.com school of sea kayaking: lesson one, paddling in a current.

I have not been out for a while, since I dislocated my knee on Gunna. Four months of inactivity have left me pretty unfit. Phil, who has been paddling for less than a year, hadn't done any tidal paddling at all. So given it was a spring tide we thought it would do both of us some good to sample the tide races on the west coast. We set off from Crinan at the top end of the Sound of Jura.


We nipped through the Dorus Mor.Then we paddled quite hard to break out of the current that was heading straight out the Corryvreckan towards distant Colonsay. Next we paddled up the Sound of Luing where we saw a huge school of perhaps 30 or 40 bottlenose dolphins, leaping clean out the water.


After this we went through the Grey dogs at the peak flow of the spring tide, we bashed through the standing waves at 18km/hour. We had been pretty economical with the description of the Grey Dogs that we gave Phil. Just as we passed the point of no return on our approach, Tony quietly said "Phil, see when we turn the corner just after this wee island? Just keep paddling".


Next we paddled down the west side of Scarba and entered the Corryvreckan. The flood was still running out against us but we used an eddy on the Scarba shore to enter the Great Race. Spray from the agitated water hung in the windless air. The eddy ended at a small headland and swung out into the main flow where it joined the rotating mass of water which forms the whirlpool. I said “Phil you need to get round this headland so paddle quite hard and don’t look back.”


We got round the headland and landed in a little bay to wait for the flood to ease off. We had to drag the boats well up the beach as seething surges of water threatened to whisk them away into the jaws of the ‘vreckan. Slack water arrived suddenly and lasted all of five minutes.


We blasted through the Dorus Mor again. The Paps of Jura heaved above the SW horizon. The ebb from Loch Craignish now joined the fun. Even a large fishing boat got caught by the current and sidestepped several hundred metres.All too soon we were back in the shelter of Crinan, a mere 39km after we had left. Not bad after a four month lay off and for Phil’s first lesson in tidal paddling.

A little splash of water to wake you up in the morning

Fortunately our beach was protected by some offshore reefs...


... and so was protected from the shore break that was hitting nearby Kiloran Bay. We launched without much fuss...


...so why is David looking so concerned?


Well, we had to break through a narrow gap in the reef and every so often a little wave would make a wee splash.

Surf's up at Kiloran Bay, Colonsay

During the night, I heard the surf getting up. It sounded so close, I got up to check the kayaks but they were well above the tide line. Phil didn't hear any surf as he was deafened by David's snoring. Come to that, maybe it wasn't surf that I had heard either.


The great sweep of Kiloran Bay stretched away...


..as we strolled along the edge of the sea looking for shells.


By the time we had made our way back the tide had come up bringing with it the surf!


It might be an interesting launch.

Twilight, firelight and distant lantern light on Kiloran Bay.

The twilight stole round us...


as we gathered driftwood from the shore.


We soon had a fire going and it radiated a pool of warmth and light in which we stood. We greeted the gathering night with fine malt whisky. Then on the distant horizon (above the fire), a steady double flash announced the location of the Dubh Artach lighthouse.

It is situated on a lonely rock, some 29km WNW of Colonsay. It was completed in 1872 by David and Thomas Stevenson. They built the shore station on Erraid off the Ross of Mull. The light was automated in 1971 and its lantern flashes white, twice every 30 seconds.

End of the day at Kiloran Bay

After dinner we just had time...


to walk over to Kiloran Bay on Colonsay's west coast...


... to catch the end of the day.

A Swedish carry on but no Indian curry in on Colonsay.

We carried our camping gear up to the machair in Ikea Fracta bags.


There was a lovely golden light...


...as we put the tents up.


David and I soon had dinner heating up our the Primus Eta Power stoves but Phil's meths Trangia was not producing much heat.


He left it in disgust and went off to phone for a carry out Curry. He was most distressed to learn that the Royal India do deliver to Colonsay Drive, Newton Mearns but not to Colonsay Island, Inner Hebrides! He has since bought a Primus Eta Express stove.

Sea kayaking campers have a lot to thank the Swedes for!

Kiloran Bay, Colonsay

Just as we were thinking we might be in for another night time epic, the broad sweep of golden sand at the head of Kiloran Bay hove into sight.


In the distance, the peaks of Jura could be seen above the low isthmus, which nearly bisects northern Colonsay.


We found a cove near the main bay to make our landfall.


The sands of Kiloran Bay stretched away for over a kilometer. There was not a soul in sight.

The tale of Cailleach Uragaig, Colonsay

After Pig's Paradise, we came to a grim grey headland on Colonsay's NW coast called Cailleach Uragaig. The Cailleach is a Celtic Goddess who has powers to shape shift herself so that she can appear as a hag, a mother or a virgin. She is a winter spirit who ushers in winter by washing her plaid in the Corryvreckan and she can often keep the arrival of spring at bay. On Colonsay she kept a young girl captive and hid herself from the girl's angry lover by transforming into this grey headland.


Although we slowed in respect, there were no damsels in distress requiring of our assistance.


The long interval swell had increased to about 2m and we now searched for somewhere safe to land before the impending nightfall. Young fulmars wheeled inquisitively round us before returning to their ledges on the headland, to report our progress to the Cailleach. If we were caught out by night then surely the Cailleach would come and get us and then we would be found dead on some remote shore, just like the Scandinavian Prince Bhreacan...

Pigs have wings in Pig's Paradise, Colonsay

Leaving Port Lobh on the west coast of Colonsay we now found ourselves on a very committing part of Colonsay's western coast.


Out at sea the swell just rose and fell gently.


I had hoped to land at Port Ban on the wildest part of Colonsay's entire coastline but the swell was breaking heavily on the steep beach.


Port Ban is a raised beach and the cliffs surrounding it are known as "Pigs' Paradise". Despite its remoteness, someone has carried a heavy wooden picnic table down to the shoreline.


We didn't see any pigs (winged or otherwise) but there were plenty sea birds especially guillemots, black guillemots and fulmars. In the spring these cliffs are one of the biggest bird breeding colonies on Scotland's west coast.


We pressed on as the day began to die. We were looking for somewhere safe to land. Tomorrow's forecast was for 6' surf!