End of a winter's day on Arran

As the sun set a chill breeze set in...


...so we crossed Brodick Bay at a cracking pace to keep warm.


From the far side of Brodick Bay we watched as the clouds began to gather round the summits of Arran's rocky ridges


Below the darkening slopes of Goatfell, a few cottage lights came on and our day was nearly over.

A glimpse of winter sun

As we left the mountains of Arran behind the sun blinked through a gap in the clouds.


We basked in the low winter sunshine as we let the tide carry us round Merkland point.


The slight breeze faded away to nothing...


...and the clouds even lifted to reveal the snow covered summit of Arran's highest mountain, Goatfell, 874m.


The top of Goatfell was still catching the sun but at sea level the sun had already set. We now set off on our crossing of the broad expanse of Brodick Bay towards the ferry terminal at Brodick where we intended to catch the ferry back to Ayrshire.

Paddling under a cloud

We slid into the sands of Sannox Bay under cover of low grey clouds.


From the point, we looked back to Bute and the Little Cumbrae islands, which had been our stepping stones on the crossing.


Away to the east, the Ayrshire hills were lit by low winter sun. The blades of the windmills were stationary.


As we paddled under the mountains that rose above Arran's eastern coast, the clouds began to lift towards the summits.


Entering Brodick Bay, the sun broke through and we drifted gently in the tide. We were in no hurry, we were in plenty of time for the ferry.

Approach to Sannox

As we approached Arran, we paddled under the layer of cloud...


...that was swirling round the mountains of Glen Sannox. We made a good speed of 9km/hr with tidal assistance on the crossing.


Once we were out of the sunshine, the temperature dropped quickly. Away to the south, the steep slopes of Holy Island were silhouetted against the distant sunshine further down the Firth of Clyde. We would soon set foot on the sands of Sannox.

Sannox synchronicity

As we left Garroch Head on Bute, the clouds began to clear from the summits of the Glen Sannox hills. I thought they would make a great backdrop to some kayaking photos. First Phil was a solo paddler. It looked good, but memories of solo synchronised swimming meant I was looking for something else.


Then Jennifer and Tony paddled into the frame and I even got a shot of their paddles nearly parallel.


Phil and Jim nipped past hoping to get in frame.


I managed three kayakers in this shot...


...then four in this one, but it still wasn't quite right.


Unfortunately the team soon twigged I was looking for a "parallel paddles" shot and did everything possible to prevent it! But patience is a great virtue and it was a long way across the Sound of Bute to Sannox...


...then at last, perfect Sannox synchronicity!

Crossing the bows of Dauntless

As we left the shelter of Little Cumbrae, we were hit by a light, but chill, wind from the NE. It blew down off the snow covered slopes of Ben Lomond, which was some 57km distant. On the sea horizon I spotted a light grey tower, "Strange", I thought, "I don't remember a buoy there."

We then passed a marker buoy for a wreck, 1km SW of the lighthouse. It was dancing in the current and making impressive gurgling noises. Again I was surprised, it was only 90 minutes after neap high water and even the maximum the spring ebb is only 1 to 1.5 knots. The dark brown colour of the water gave it away. This was all the flood water from the recent rains, making its way to the open sea.

I stopped paddling and the drift speed was just over 2 knots. We were going to have an interesting crossing. We set off on a very high ferry angle and half way across it looked like we would be swept south of our destination, Garroch Head on Bute.


The mystery of the grey tower soon revealed itself. It turned out to be HMS Dauntless. At first she was heading straight for us (we were in the middle of the Firth of Clyde Channel) and we had to calculate whether to maintain our high ferry angle and cross the channel more slowly or head straight across the channel more quickly and risk being swept down tide of Garroch Head. Not wishing to get in the way of Dauntless, we headed straight across the channel, until we saw her starboard side. In a test of her Samson radar (in the dome on top of her tower) it apparently managed to simultaneously track all aircraft flying into and out of Heathrow, Gatwick, Stanstead, Paris CDG, Schiphol and Berlin. Despite this processing power, we thought five kayaks might just be under her radar, so we were rather pleased to clear her bows.


HMS Dauntless, D33, is a type 45 destroyer. She was built on the Clyde at Scotstoun where she has been recently fitting out. This was her maiden voyage to the Naval dockyard at Portsmouth.


After crossing in front of Dauntless's bows we then had to paddle very hard indeed to keep out of the Garroch Head tide race. On taking a breather we saw from the left: Cameron (a mooring vessel), Svitzer Mercia (a tug) and Dauntless all leaving the Clyde and Bellatrix (bulk carrier) waiting to enter the channel. There were also a couple of small fishing boats.


We were pleased to have got safely across the channel and enjoyed our second breakfast on the beach at Port Leithne on Garroch Head.

Queuing up the Clyde!

As we left the dark rocks of Portencross...


...we could see the vast bulk of the Bellatrix, a 225m bulk carrier, coming up the Clyde behind us.


It looked like she was heading up the Hunterston Channel between Ayrshire and the Little Cumbrae. We were headed across this channel to the distant isle of Bute beyond.


Rather than cutting straight across, we went well up the channel towards the channel marker buoys. Big ships keep between them, so it is quite safe to sit there and wait until they pass.


It turned out that Bellatrix wanted to go up the main Firth of Clyde channel, on the far side of Little Cumbrae. We realized this when we saw the Navigo emerging from behind Little Cumbrae. The Navigo is a 142m Swedish tanker and she was the first of many ships to make her way down the Clyde that morning. Bellatrix was in for a long wait!


We were not sure if Bellatrix would so patiently wait for us, so we nipped across the channel as quickly as we could!

A new dawn for Portencross castle

After leaving two cars at Ardrossan ferry terminal, we drove 10km up the Ayrshire coast to Portencross.


It was high tide, so most of the evil, slippy rocks that characterise this shore were covered. Tony and Phil launched my kayak, then helped me into the cockpit. My recently injured knee was hurting, just at the sight of those rocks.


A lovely dawn light reflected on the little waves.


Soon we were on our way, paddling past Portencross castle, which is currently swathed in scaffolding. Centuries of weather and neglect had caused the castle walls to decay to a perilous state. It is now undergoing a restoration thanks to the Friends of Portencross Castle.

A trinity of tideraces: circumnavigation of Scarba

Circumnavigation of Scarba: a day trip of 38.5km from Crinan, October 2009.


We rush to pull the kayaks out of the clutch of the sucking white tendrils of the Corryvreckan whirlpool!

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

Crossing the Rubicon in the Dorus Mor

A whiter shade of pale in the Sound of Jura

Pool of the Song in the Sound of Luing

Sleeping Grey Dogs

Friends to watch over you

Free fall on Scarba

Menace hung in the windless air, even for the most daring and venturesome.

Showdown with a goat in the Corryvreckan!

Calculating slack water in the Corryvreckan

The mystery of the goats of Reisa an t-Sruith

Back for more in the Dorus Mor!

End of another Glorious Dorus Day

Crinan's pyroligneous past.

Dawn till dusk

We paddled from dawn till dusk.

Crinan's pyroligneous past.

As we entered Loch Crinan, the setting sun lit the north shore with a crimson light. The lonely farmhouse of Ardifuir nestles in a bowl in the hills. The agricultural land between it and the sea is a former raised beach.


Further into the loch we passed below the ancient walls of Duntrune castle.


We entered the shade at the head of the loch and, as we paddled through the yachts in Crinan Bay,I thought I caught a whiff of woodsmoke. A tall chimney betrays an interesting facet of sleepy Crinan's past. It was a factory for making pyroligneous acid. The process involved distilling wood and it operated between about 1840 to 1890 until the market for pyroligneous acid evaporated.

It was high tide and we pulled our boats up the little slipway in the heart of the village as darkness gathered round us. It had been a really great day. We had covered 38.5km, albeit with some tidal assistance!

End of another Glorious Dorus Day

The Sound of Jura, beyond the Dorus Mor, is a beautiful place but the tides still run strongly as the ebb from Loch Craignish mixes with that from the Dorus..


Despite her powerful engines, this fishing boat was slewed sideways several times by the strong eddies.


The temperature began to drop as the sun...


... dipped towards the western horizon, bringing to an end another Glorious Dorus Day.