Sleeping Grey Dogs

Leaving the Pool of the Song, we felt another pull. This time it was the pull of the Grey Dogs tidal race. It was spring tides maximum flow and there was not a breath of wind so we could hear the Dogs growling from some way off. Phil said "We are not going through there are we?"

"Oh no!" said Tony, quite truthfully, as we carefully vetted the Dogs' condition through the south channel before...


...turning in to the straighter north channel. Just as we passed the point of no return, Tony quietly said "Phil, see when we turn the corner, just after this wee island? Just keep paddling".


Tony led the way down the inverted "V" between the worst of the eddylines as the water sloped downhill between the gap. Phil stuck to his stern. I brought up the rear, ready to pick up any pieces.


There was ony about 4 or 5 standing waves and then we were through onto flat, boily water at 18km/hour.


The stirred up water extends...


...well to the west of the Dogs.


But at last we hit calm water again. Phil was noticably moved by his recent experience. "Was that like a grade 4 river?" he asked. We hadn't the heart to tell him it was only grade 2!


By now Phil had regained his composure: "What an experience !.. Only one thing guys... Where is my badge ?"

"Now, now, Phil, if it's wee bajes yer efter, ye'll jus' need tae jine a club!"

We were very lucky to hit the Grey Dogs when they were sleeping. If there is any westerly wind or swell then they can be rather different.


We would not have taken Phil through the Grey Dogs...


...if we had found conditions to be like these two recent trips.

Pool of the Song in the Sound of Luing

We broke out of the tide towards the Corryvreckan and entered the Sound of Luing between Scarba and Luing. Kilmory Lodge, which is one of the few houses on Scarba, stood high on the hill side above us.


On the other side of the Sound, low lying Luing presents a gentler contrast to the steep hills of Scarba. In the distance, we were preceeded up the Sound by a pod of about 30 bottlenose dolphins, which were thrashing the surface of the water in a long line and some were leaping clean into the air.


We had seen them here before, in February 2004, but at much closer range.


We stopped for second breakfast below the Lodge on the wooded shores of Scarba, at the delightfully named Poll n h-Ealaid, "pool of the song" . Phil noticed the strength of the tide, which nearly swept him past this little harbour...

A whiter shade of pale in the Sound of Jura

Once ejected from the Dorus Mor, we had to avoid the eddy, which at the the beginning of the flood runs south down the west side of Garbh Reisa.


We were not the only ones watching out for eddies. We came across the MV Margaret Sinclair heading in the opposite direction to ourselves. Her twin engines put out 640HP but even so, she did not attempt to run through the Dorus Mor against the full force of the flood tide. Instead, she stood in close to the north shore, where a counter eddy helped her through.

The MV Margaret Sinclair is a 60 gross ton fish farm work boat and landing craft. She was built for the Inverlussa Shellfish Co Ltd. by Nobles of Girvan in 2006. She also does charter work as relief ferry for islands such as Jura and Rathlin.


By now the tide was carrying us straight towards the Corryvreckan. On the horizon we could see the distant isle of Colonsay. Recently we had gazed from Colonsay through the Corryvreckan in the other direction.


I could see that Phil had turned several whiter shades of pale as we drew closer to the Corryvrecka. Indeed we were now so close we could see the standing waves of the whirlpool on the horizon. Clearly he did not wish to reacquaint himself with Colonsay, possibly in an inverted position.

"You didn't say anything about going through there!!!" said Phil, with not a little desperation, and even a hint of accusation, in his voice.

"Relax Phil, of course we are not going through there" and, somewhat under my breath, "yet."

Tony chipped in, "So let's paddle quite hard and see if we can break out of this current and make it up the east side of Scarba!"

Phil was only too happy to oblige and for the next little while, we PLFed.

Crossing the Rubicon in the Dorus Mor

We paddled out of the shady confines of the hills surrounding Loch Crinan and emerged into a sunlit Sound of Jura.


The unmistakable outline of the Paps of Jura defined the horizon to the south west.


We were now in the narrowing northern reaches of the Sound of Jura and the full force of the spring tide was accelerating us towards the tidal channel called the Dorus Mor (the Big Door).


We were harnessing the gravitational energy of the solar system. We were were set on a voyage, like an interplanetary probe that uses the gravitational pull of one planet to accelerate past and slingshot on to the pull of another. But in our case, islands replaced the planets.


As we approached Garbh Reisa, we were about to cross the Rubicon point, beyond which it was not possible to break out of the current. After that point we would be at the mercy of the tides and could only go where they wished to take us!


We were now in the grip of tidal forces that propelled us through the Dorus Mor at 18km/hr.


Once through the Dorus Mor, the tide floods past the little island of Reisa an t-Struith before its headlong dash towards the jaws of the great Gulf of Corryvreckan and its waiting whirlpool...

En route from Crinan, bound for...?

On a cold frosty morning in mid October, we found ourselves in Crinan on the west coast of Scotland's long Kintyre peninsula. We had come here because a floating pontoon would allow me to get easy access to the water despite my injured knee.


Crinan is the launch point for many peoples' nautical adventures.


It is at the north west end of its eponymous canal, which links the Firth of Clyde to the Sound of Jura by cutting across the Kintyre peninsula.


The Mull of Kintyre lies over 90km to the SSW, so for many the canal is a shortcut, which also avoids one of the most notorious tidal headlands on Scotland's west coast.


We left Loch Crinan with hardly a sideways glance at Duntrune Castle. Where were we bound for...?

Farewell to Islay, Oronsay, Colonsay and Jura

Sadly, it was now time to say farewell to the fabulous islands of Islay, Oronsay, Colonsay and Jura. We stayed out on the observation deck of the MV Hebridean Isles. We were lost in our thoughts of rocky mountains, dazzling sands, raised beaches and caves, ancient buildings and traces of our ancestors which went back 9,000 years!


As the ferry made her way down the Sound of Islay, we caught sight of the distant rocky ridges of Arran, on the far side of the Kintyre peninsula. This brought back other memories of fine paddles earlier in the year. After a while we went down to the dining room for a Calmac chicken curry!


By the time we reemerged on deck, we had crossed the Sound of Jura and were making our way up the Kintyre West Loch Tarbert. Gigha floated dreamily on the SW horizon, recalling yet more great paddling adventures. By now it really was the end of our adventure but living as we do in sea kayaking paradise, we knew it would not be too long until we off on yet another adventure.


Allowing for 2 half day ferry crossings, we enjoyed 3 full days' paddling over the 4 days of our trip. We covered 109km, which averages just 36km per day.

I hope you have enjoyed this virtual paddle in the Inner Hebrides and if you have never visited Scotland before, I hope that one day it might tempt you to visit.

Ferry gliding in the Sound of Islay

We ferry glided across the Sound of Islay to the Islay side once more. The crossing happened at a dizzying rate...


...and before we knew it we were back in Port Askaig. We had to break out into an eddy to let the MV Eilean Dhiura, the Jura ferry, make her complex approach to her jetty in the full force of the spring ebb tide. The jetty is several hundred yards behind her!


All too soon, we were back ashore on Port Askaig, Islay. We did not have long to wait until the Islay ferry, the MV Hebridean Isles, gently reversed across the eddy line into her berth.


The disembarkation and loading were completed in only 30 minutes. The Hebridean Isles nosed out into the flow and allowed the tide to turn her bow to the south. Our expedition in the southern Inner Hebrides was now all but over...

Raised sea stacks and river valleys on Jura's SW coast

The SW coast of Jura that faces the Sound of Islay has a very complex structure which reveals several past beach levels. Above the current beach there are numerous sea stacks and the base of a cliff which were cut when sea levels were higher.


About 10,000 years ago the beach was at the top of the cliff line. The weight of the ice sheet caused the Earth's crust under Scotland to sink into the magma below. As the ice melted the land started to rise and is still rising today. Meltwater from the retreating glaciers has cut steep V shaped ravines through the cliff line below the raised beaches. If these valleys had been cut by glaciers they would have been U shaped.


The tide had now picked up to a very pleasant 10km/hour and we were ably to relax and enjoy the view knowing we would make Port Askaig and the ferry in plenty of time.


We started a ferry glide across the Sound of Islay once we approached the small Carragh an t-Sruith lighthouse. It has a white flash every 3 seconds.

Sea eagles, basalt dykes and raised beaches on Jura's SW coast

Once round Rubh' a' Chrois-aoinidh, we had left Loch Tarbert on Jura and now entered the Sound of Islay. We still had 14.5km to go till we reached Port Askaig and there was only two hours until we had to be on the ferry. There was some anxiety within the party. However, our detour round Loch Tarbert had allowed the tide to turn and the ebb would accelerate us down the Sound with time to spare!


The south west coast of Jura is spectacular with several beach levels. Above us, a pair of sea eagles soared effortlessly on the updraught from the cliffs. One had a yellow wing tag. I am not sure if they were the established pair, from the other side of Jura, or a pair of courting youngsters.


As we approached Brein Phort (stinking harbour) we could see a great basalt dyke which marched down the hill right into the sea. A continuation of this dyke reemerges from the sea on the other side of the Sound of Islay, just north of the Rhuvaal lighthouse.


As we drew closer, we could see a hole through the dyke which formed a natural arch.


We did not have long to admire this natural wonder...


...we were now in the grip of the ebb tide and we were soon whisked past.

Enchanted by a perfect Pap on Jura

We rounded Rubh' a' Bhàillein (rock of the twigs) to witness the splendid prospect of the remote south shore of Loch Tarbert in Jura.


A succession of dazzling white strands were backed by a series of raised beaches and cliffs.


Behind them all the shapely mass of Beinn Shiantaidh (757m) heaved towards the blue vault of the sky. There are several translations of her Gaelic name but I much prefer "The Enchanted Mountain."


At her feet lay the Lord Astor's Victorian shooting lodge, Glenbatrick. This time, no one was home but we had met the good Lord and his party some 2 years before.


We were now approaching Rubh' a' Chrois-aoinidh (rock of the cross-cliff) which marks the mouth of Loch Tarbert.


In the distance, across the Sound of Islay, lay Rhuvaal lighthouse at the northernmost point of Islay. We were nearly at the end of our voyage...