Dawn of our final day on Arran.

The sun slowly rose behind a rickety basalt dyke on the Kildonan shore at the south end of Arran.

This was to be our fifth consecutive day paddling in Arran waters (but only after 3 nights on the island.... it's complicated!)

We wasted no time and soon had breakfast sizzling in our pans...

...before launching into the swirling tides...

...that  flow through the Sound of Pladda.

Kildonan chips at sunset.

 As we walked along the shore towards Kildonan...

 ...the Pladda lighthouse began to flash...

 ...as the sun  began to set behind the distant Bennan Head.

Our walk was rewarded by an excellent bar meal...

...in the Kildonan Hotel.

Leaving a mark on the landscape.

The tertiary volcanic eruptions have left their mark on the south coast of Arran. Dramatic basalt dykes radiate out at right angles from the Kildonan Shore.

We came across this carved stone seat. Its inscription reads "does the song of the sea end at the shore or in the hearts of those that listen". This is a quote from the Lebanese poet Khalil Gibran and the seat was carved in 2008 by Lamlash sculptor Tim Pomeroy. It commemorates Bill and Catriona Sillars but nowhere do their names appear on the stone, you need to spend some time on Google to discover them. The seat is not in a particularly remote place, it is on the main coastal path round Arran. It performs a useful function, unlike the granite obelisks (John Smith loved this spot etc.) and piles of crematorium ash that litter some of Scotland's remote places, I liked this seat.

In complete contrast, we came across this memorial to someone's camp. They had torched the lot; tent, sleeping bag, clothing, food and rubbish. They clearly didn't want the bother of carrying anything back. Modern camping gear is so cheap, it clearly made sense to burn it to minimise the effect of their camp on the landscape. I am not sure if the Blackwaterfoot ladies' militia would have approved.

Kildonan landfall.

 After we rounded Bennan Head we entered the Sound of Pladda and...

 began to look for a suitable spot to land and camp on the Kildonan Shore.

We normally use the commercial camp site at Seal Shore, Kildonan for its showers and convenient location next to the hotel. However, as it was still March the camp site was not open.

Eventually we found a suitable place to land, between the many basalt dykes that project at right angles from the shore. It had been a long day, since we had left the east coast of the Kintyre peninsula at Carradale. Unlike the previous two nights, we had landed in plenty of time to get the tents up and cook a meal in daylight. However, we had no intention of doing any cooking...

One of the finest headlands in SW Scotland.

As we paddled along the south coast of Arran in the late March sunshine, we caught sight of the island of Pladda with its twin towered lighthouse.

 The coastline here rears up into...

 ...ever higher cliffs until we reached...

 ...the magnificent rock architecture of...

 Bennan Head, which comes complete with waterfall...

...and Black Cave (with blow hole)!

Our shadows drifted over the sands of ancient mountains.

 A little breeze helped us on our way from Corriecravie round to Arran's south coast.

It was high water, so we glided across the great number of volcanic dykes (or cleits) that criss cross the Cleats Shore.

This old stone gabled structure is now used as a farm building but we wondered if it was once a chapel.

The Kilmory Water enters the sea just beyond Cleats Shore and carries fine sand from the hills above into the sea.

It has helped create a broad sweep of sand in the bay, backed by a raised beach and low cliffs. The wind dropped and the sea turned glassy calm as...

...our shadows drifted over the sands of ancients mountains that now lay below the sea.

My (very) small part in The Great British Story.

Tonight, the BBC broadcast the first episode of The Great British Story: a People's History. The first programme, Britannia, dealt with the period following the fall of the Roman Empire. Throughout the Dark Ages, civilisation clung on in the western fringes of Britain as the east coast was invaded by the Anglo Saxons. The programme followed the voyage of St Columba from Ireland to Iona off the west coast of Mull. He brought Christianity into the northern land of the Picts (who had never been part of the Roman Britain having been isolated  by first the Antonine, then the Hadrian walls).

St Columba had founded religious settlements on many of the islands he stopped at on his route north. The programme showed the ancient Celtic Christian carved stone crosses that still stand on the islands of Islay and Oronsay. Standing at the foot of these wonderful crosses, which are worn by the gales of 1,200 winters, is a humbling experience.

The above photo is of one of the crosses of Oronsay. It was shown for all of several seconds. I was quite pleased. It was one of mine!

Visiting the spirits of my ancestors.

Rounding Brown Head, we came to a green valley that ran into the hills. The south facing slopes make this one of the most fertile spots on Arran. The village is called Corriecravie.

Until  the 1860's, generations of my mother's family were crofters here. They farmed two fields, which still have the same boundaries today, though all evidence of the croft house has gone. My great, great, grandfather moved to Glasgow to start a new life in 1864.

Corriecravie has a long history of settlement. The mound in the middle of this photo is Torr a' Chaisteal, the remains of an Iron Age dun.

It was time for second luncheon in the land of my ancestors.

There is a story in my family about this beach. Many years ago, about 1800, there was an evening of music in the croft. At  the end of the evening one of my ancestors and a neighbour lit lanterns and escorted several of the older neighbours back to their houses near the shore. It was a stormy night but above the sound of the waves they all heard a slow intermittent tapping noise coming from the shore. Although they were very religious people, they were also very superstitious. Fearing an evil spirit in the darkness, they rushed back to the croft. The next morning when they finally ventured to the shore, they found a drowned sailor lying on the cobbled beach. He still had a rock clutched in his hand. He must have been too exhausted to cry for help and had tried to attract attention by tapping the rock...

On our visit all was calm and quiet and we felt at home.

All sorts of things on the go at Brown Head, Arran.

Shortly after leaving Drumadoon Bay we passed the Rebecca R  (RX 383) which seemed to be fishing very close inshore. At first I thought she might be fishing for razor clams but I thought it strange that a small trawler registered in Rye, on the English SE coast had come all the way up here. It turns out she is a fishing research vessel used by CEFAS for young fish surveys.

We continued south towards Brown Head which is another geological sill dating from Tertiary times. The modern day road traverses a raised beach, which is now 30m above present sea level.

707 is one of three Sea King Mk5 search and rescue helicopters based at HMS Gannet in Prestwick. She did the helicopter equivalent of waggling her wings as she passed over.

 Continuing round Brown Head, signs of continuing erosion are frequent. We were not sure if this car was fully aware of what was (or was not) beneath its wheels.

 Over the millenia, large granite boulders had tumbled down the slopes and made the beaches here almost impossible to traverse.

Some larger boulders had even bounced out to sea, where they performed as convenient cormorant perches.

The Blackwaterfoot womens' militia, dog branch.

 When we left King's Cave we followed the coast of Arran south towards...

 ...the Doon and Drumadoon Point.

The Doon is a remarkable rock formation that was used as a fortified settlement in the Iron Age. Geologically it is a 25 to 30m thick sill, which is a composite of quartz-feldspar porphyry and tholeiitic basalt. It was at this point that we were aware that we had aroused the interest of a number of dog walkers. One was watching us intently through binoculars.

We decided to land on the lovely strand at Drumadoon Bay near the village of Blackwaterfoot to partake of our first luncheon.

However, no sooner had we landed than a 4X4 vehicle drove up and parked on the dunes facing us and the female driver trained her binoculars on us. There were now four female dog walkers surrounding us and another female with binoculars was hiding in the dunes above us.

Finally, one of the women (with two large dogs) plucked up the courage to march up to us. The dogs were friendly enough but stuck their noses in our bags stealing our food.

"You can't camp here again!" she blurted out. "We know it was you who left your tents and a mess up in the dunes." Her strident accent clearly hadn't been honed by a childhood on Arran!

I didn't have my hearing aids in and although I had heard her perfectly well, I feigned deafness and asked her to remove her two dogs from my lunch as I found their behaviour objectionable. In the meantime one of the hounds attempted to pee on my luncheon bag then crapped at my feet. Fortunately, the other hound took a dislike to my finest Arran Blue cheese and bolted. My verbal assailant then ran off after it.

After what was left of our luncheon, we prepared to leave with eyes still watching our every move. We were pretty sure that they would check our lunch spot for any scrap of litter. We debated whether to write a rude message in the sand but decided to leave the beach as we found it, in case an innocent child might come by and be corrupted. We carefully stepped over the dog crap and made our way back to the kayaks.

From 200m out at sea, we turned to see our recent luncheon spot being closely inspected by several women and half a dozen hungry dogs. They found nothing (we had left behind).

Farewell Blackwaterfoot (watch your feet).

Portents of spiders and the early buds of March.

We made landfall on Arran under the slopes of Torr Righ Beag.

 The still waters were sparkling clear as we made our way...

 ...south along the Arran coast towards the King's Cave in which a defeated Robert the Bruce was hiding from the English during the winter of 1306/07. In his despair he watched a spider repeatedly trying to spin a web across a gap and finally succeeding. This gave him inspiration to continue the struggle for Scottish Independence and the major victory at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314.

All round Scotland and Ireland many caves claim to be the King's Cave...

 ...but this one certainly has a setting fit for a king: a sea view and a choice of rooms to boot.

As we left the caves, we paddled below cliffs that were bursting with early March buds. It is a pity that the promising heat in March has been followed by such cold windy and wet weather in April and May.