The gannets of Stac an Armin.

 The Cuma slowed as we approached the north end of Boreray. We were silenced by this view between Boreray and Stac an Armin. Stc Lee is partly hidden by the dark cliffs of Boreray, Hitra is in the distance with Stac Soay and Stac Biorach between it and Soay, then Stac an Armin.

Telephoto shot of Soay.

At 196m high, Stac an Armin is the highest sea stac in the British Isles. The St Kildans harvested seabird each summer. They built 80 cleits and a bothy on the rock. Three men and eight boys spent 9 months on Stac an Armin from  about 15 August 1727 until 13 May 1728 when they were rescued by a boat from the Outer Hebrides. Smallpox had broken out on Hirta after they had been dropped off and there were not enough adult survivors to man a boat to recover them.

Nearby Stac Lee is the second highest stac at  172m.

Stac an Armin from the NW. The last great auk in the British isles was killed here in July 1840. It was caught by three St Kildans and held captive for three days before they beat it to death because they thought it was a witch.

 The air was filled by a blizzard of croaking gannets. These islands are one of the biggest sea bird colonies in Europe.

They are incredibly graceful in flight...

...and have a wingspan of 2m.

The Cuma now swung round the south of Stac an Armin. The islanders leaped ashore from their boats at the white water below the highest point.

Track of the Cuma,

Crossing to St Kilda, the islands at the edge of the World.

The morning of Sunday 12th June dawned fair and after an extensive Cuma breakfast, we took some air upon the deck to allow our stomachs to settle. Ken explained to the others how he had managed to hold on to the toast rack with the very last slice of toast!

Murdani listened intently to the weather forecast. It was not looking good at the end of the week and the wind this evening was forecast to get up to 19-25mph from the NE but drop on Monday before getting up again from the SW on Tuesday. Murdani decided to go for it. He was confident that Village Bay would provide a sheltered anchorage in a NE wind. The anchor was weighed and look how carefully the chain is cleaned of mud.

Soon we were heading for the Atlantic from within the confines of a narrow sea loch without an open horizon.

 The island of Scarp, with its dazzling white sand beach, was our gateway to the open ocean.

 Gordon was delighted we were heading WSW to St Kilda. The crossing from Scarp to Hirta is 87km! The empty Atlantic horizon stretched in front of us without a hint of the islands at the edge of the World.

Behind us, the west coast of Lewis fell away as the Cuma's bow rose to the Atlantic swells.

We chatted excitedly on the long crossing. Donald Thomson led the first return trip to by sea kayak to St Kilda 20 years ago in 1991. He modestly answered our many questions about such a bold trip. It turns out that Donald has made return trips to all the Scottish islands apart from one!

At first we could hardly distinguish St Kilda from the clouds but gradually the dramatic cliffs took form as they rose above the horizon. We then realized that these were the highest sea cliffs in the British Isles, big enough to generate their own weather system! From the left we saw Dun, Hirta, Soay, Boreray and Stac an Armin. We were humbled that our ancestors made this crossing and colonised the islands 4,000 years ago!

Our final approach would take us round the north of Boreray and Stac an Armin.

A UFO in the sky at night above Loch Tamnavay.

On arrival at the head of Loch Tamnavay several of us set off for a shakedown paddle on the loch.

Ian quickly entered full smug mode, as he had been allocated Gordon's new Valley Etain. It will be worthwhile following Ian's excellent blog of our trip. Then you will be able to enjoy our voyages in full St Kilda Stereovision (tm)!

Although it was 21:45 hours, the mid summer sun was still shining on the distant hills of Scarp.

The beauty of the still evening was enhanced...

...when the moon rose beyond the rocky  slopes of Aird Beag.

We paddled out of Loch Tamnavay into the open expanse of Braigh Mor...

...then entered little Loch Tealasavay as the sun was setting.

We then paddled back to the Cuma in the moonlight. (Photo of myself and Ian by Gordon.)

Our route was only 10km but it was in the most beautiful and remote of locations.

As the moon rose and began to set again, we spent a very convivial evening excitedly chatting about our adventure to come. Murdani and I stayed up after the others, catching up on old times, but I went below about 02:30 on 12/06/2011. Minutes later, Murdani called me up on deck again. The moon had gone down but Murdani said in a quiet voice "What do you make of that?"

High in the sky (higher than Altair in the SSE or Arcturus in the SSW) a bright white disk of light was traversing the sky from west to east. It was difficult to estimate its height and speed but if it was as high as a passenger jet, it was travelling across the sky about 3-4 times as fast. It was not a satellite, I regularly see them and it was much bigger. It was not the international space station, which I have also seen, as in these latitudes it rarely gets higher than 10 degrees above the horizon. It was a still night and there was no engine noise nor were there navigation lights and strobes that you would expect to see on a jet airliner.

Then, when it was about 20 degrees above the eastern horizon, an amazing thing happened. Until that point its velocity had appeared constant but suddenly it started ricocheting from side to side, as if bouncing off invisible walls on either side of its track. What was it? Neither Murdani nor I had a clue. I had had a small amount to drink but Murdani had taken no alcohol at all. We had seen an unidentified flying object (UFO) above Loch Tamnavay.

Where ancient mountains crumble to the sea.

As we proceeded south along the mountainous coast of Lewis, a lone figure, with a carrier bag, appeared running along the rocks. The steady beat of Cuma's  trusty Gardner diesel slowed...

...and Murdani gently nosed her into the relatively calm waters of Tarla geo. Here the slopes of Taireabhal plunge straight into the sea.

It was Murdani's son in law on the rocks and Gary threw a well aimed line towards him.

With no delay, the bag was tied to the line and...

...swiftly hauled aboard.

The mystery of the Cuma's missing supplies was solved. It was a container of fruit crumble mix and six stainless steel teaspoons! Thank goodness we would not need to eat our stewed fruit without crumble and stir our tea with the reserve plastic items!

 The beat of the diesel resumed and we continued down the coast past the dazzling sands of Mealasta island...

 ...and on to the ancient hills that border Lewis and Harris.

Murdani now took Cuma through the narrow gap inside Liongam and into...

...the sheltered waters of Loch Tamnavay beyond.

A gneiss time to find our feet and sea legs.

No sooner had secured the kayaks and set off from Miavaig in Loch Roag than Gordon demonstrated the berthing accommodation for those travelling steerage class. Fortunately we had all booked berths in the Cuma's cabins!

We soon left the great strand of Traigh na Beirigh in our wake...

...as we passed Bhacasaigh and...

  

...in the distance Seana Chnoc. 

Simon started filming the trip in  the shelter of Caolas Pabaigh but all thoughts of filming were temporarily put on hold...

...when Cuma left Loch Roag and hit the swell off the arch at Eala Sheadha.

Once round Gallan Head, the swell was coming from the beam of the Cuma and several of our party needed to lie down until they got their sea legs.

The rock architecture at this western limit of the great Eurasian continent was stunning. The predominant rock in Lewis and Harris is Lewisian gneiss which at 3,000 million years old is just about the oldest rock on the planet.

A journey towards the edge of the World.

My journey north to St Kilda started at 17:30 after work last Friday. It was a slow drive due to the number of caravans and motor homes heading north. These vehicles carry such evocative names as  GT, Cheetah, Concorde (Mach 2 model), Monza, Le Mans etc. However, the road quietened after Fort William and by 21:30 I was watching the sun set behind Eilean Donan Castle.

I spent the night at Gordon and Morag Brown's new Skyak sea kayaking centre on Skye. After meeting some of the others, we spent a very convivial evening chatting and planning our adventure. We rose early the next morning and loaded the kayak trailer. We drove to the Calmac ferry terminal at Uig...

 ...and were soon enjoying the in flight entertainment. A large pod of dolphins were leaping out of the waters of the Minch.

 The Cuillin of Skye were soon slipping astern...

...to be replaced by the mountains of Harris as we entered Loch Tarbert.
 

We drove through the high mountains of Harris and descended to the wide open moors of Lewis. Lewis and Harris form the third biggest landmass in the British Isles after Britain and Ireland!

We had a long drive ahead of us to the little port of Miavaig in Loch Roag on the west coast of Lewis.

 Here we met the Cuma and her Skipper Murdani.

 Soon we were loading the kayaks onto the Cuma and our journey was about to begin. Murdani at the stern supervised the loading but he didn't seem to be quite himself. I overheard him say to the Gary the Cuma's mate " I don't like leaving without it." and "I know we have got plenty plastic ones but stainless steel would be better."

We set sail without it and with plenty plastic ones on board....