Catching the tide from Crammag Head to the Mull of Logan.

This is a return to where I left off our Mull of Galloway trip.

After rounding Crammag Head a little breeze got up and we fairly sped up the North Channel with both tide and wind assistance.

Portencorkie is really the only beach north of West Tarbet and funnily enough each has a huge gas tank. These were washed of a cargo ship in a storm. The beach does trap any detruis and I have only stopped here once so...

 ...we pressed on round...

 ...Laggantullach Head and...

 ...past Clanyard and Port Logan Bays. We stayed out in the tide and made rapid progress towards...

 ...the Mull of Logan, our second Mull in one day.

The flood tide was running like a river at 9km/hr, fortunately the light wind was with the tide otherwise it might not have been as calm as this.

We broke out into a calm eddy behind the Mull. Tony Phil and I knew what to expect. Maurice was in for a surprise...

A series of coincidences on our leaving Cara and Gigha.

 We enjoyed a leisurely first luncheon on the white shell sands of Port Sgiathain on the south west coast of Gigha. (Perhaps it was only second breakfast because I cannot recall if any essence of Jura was consumed.) We were in no hurry as we wished to use the ferry slipway at Tayinloan to recover our kayaks. Having no desire to inconvenience the ferry or experience the unleashing of its ramp we planned our our crossing so that it would coincide withe the ferry's departure from Tayinloan. This meant that it would overtake us on our crossing of the Sound of Gigha so we kept a sharp lookout behind.

The rumble of engines soon announced the passage of the MV Loch Ranza but we were well to the south of her course. For the first time Ian caught a clear sight of the Paps of Jura and I regailed him of the trip Tony and I had made to Jura back in April. So that's another future trip sorted!

 Gradually Gigha, the Paps of Jura and...

...Cara with its white sands, Mull and Brownie slipped astern as we approached...

 ...Tayinloan on the Kintyre side of the Sound.

 We had only the briefest of stops, while the ferry finished loading, during which we had time to admire...

 ...the creel boat Kyra OB469 before...

 ...the Loch Ranza departed with another cheery wave from her captain.

 As the ferry motored her way back to Gigha...

 Ian and I landed on the slipway and strolled back to the cars for our kayak trolleys. It had been a truly laid back and delightful trip and we savoured our last moments on the west coast of Kintyre. We were in no particular hurry and decided to enjoy the delights of Jessie's Ferry Farm Tearoom before heading on our way. Coincidentally Ian and I both chose the daily special, wild boar with chorizo burgers which were literally immensely satisfying! Ian and I now faced equally long drives to diametrically opposite parts of Scotland. Ian to Grampian in the NE and myself to Galloway in the SW. Amazingly we each arrived safely within 10 minute of each other. What a coincidence! But this was not the only coincidence on this trip. I had set my iPod onto shuffle play and remarkably the second song which came on as I was driving north on Kintyre towards West Loch Tarvert was by Paul McCartney and Wings. No it wasn't Mull of Kintyre, with its mist rolling in from the sea (of which we had seen plenty). It was Helen Wheels, which recounts one of the McCartney family trips from their farm on Kintyre to London in their trusty LandRover which they called "Helen Wheels". I am pretty sure that the Brownie of Cara would not know how to hack an iPod shuffle play order....or would he?


Altogether we had enjoyed two half days and one full day paddling 51km round Gigha and Cara. It was probably about my 10th sea kayaking trip but Ian's first. Like me, he plans to return but I do not think that is a chance coincidence!

Farewell to Cara

From the Mull of Cara we paddled up the east coast of the island  where even in the gentle swell there were surf traps for the unwary. The rocks here were still white with cormorant guano though...

 ...only a few birds remained.

We were not the only ones leaving Gigha and Cara. This beautiful yacht had moored overnight at Ardminish Bay on Gigha and was now taking advantage of the settled weather to make her way back from the West Coast to the Isle of Man via the Mull of Kintyre and the North Channel.

We came to a beautiful series of tombola beaches before...

 ...saying our final farewells to Cara and the Brownie and setting off across the Sound of Cara to Gigalum.

 This was another excuse to paddle through the Gigalum reefs...

 ...leaving the Mull of Cara far in our wakes.

The SW coast of Gigha proved to be...

 ...equally rewarding with crystal clear waters.

We could not resist pulling into Port an Sgiathain on Gigha for a leisurely first luncheon before starting the crossing back to Kintyre..

A meeting with the latter day Brownie of Cara at the Mull.

 When we woke on Cara on the third and last day of our trip the skies were overcast but there was no wind or swell which would make ideal conditions to round the Mull of Cara.

We set off round Cara in an anticlockwise direction which took us through the skerries on the island's NW coast.

 An unmistakable odour revealed a number of the island's large goat population.

As soon as we were out of the shelter of the skerries we encountered swell which is often a reason to keep well out but it was just about as flat as I have ever seen it.

Ian had not being expecting the Mull of Cara to be particularly impressive so he was delighted when we first saw its rocky profile.

 It was so calm we were able to paddle right into Dead Man's Bay to the west of the Mull.

 Ian was dwarfed by the scale of the rocks which had fallen from the Mull in a huge landslide in 1756. The resulting tsunami destroyed coastal houses on Cara, Gigha and the west coast of Kintyre as far north as West Loch Tarbert.

 We took it in turn to paddle out to get some good distance shots. It was slack water but when the tide is running against the wind here, photography would be the last thing on your mind.

 High above the sightless stone eyes of the Cara eagle gazed out to the Atlantic. For a time we had had the impression we were being watched and had caught an occasional sight of a small brown figure flitting from rock to rock. Was it the Brownie?...

 Then we say it. It was the alpha male goat of Cara. He was perched on a comfortable rock...

...high on the cliffs of the Mull...

...watching over his flock below. We paddled on leaving the Mull of Cara to the goats and the Brownie.