An evening alternative to the Abbey on Iona

After an arduous day sea kayaking round Iona and the Ross of Mull we landed on Iona just as the MV Loch Buie was making her last crossing of the evening. The last of the many day trippers were waiting on the jetty to return to the mainland. The crowded isle of the day was about to return to the peace of the evening and its past. (With the useful addition of our good selves of course.)

It had been a long hot day and we were in need of some sustenance as there was still to be a final eight long Scotch kilometers until our keels would be hauled up on the white sand of our chosen camp for the night. We spotted an unprepossessing building at the top of the slip. Closer inspection revealed it to be the Martyr's Bay Restaurant and Bar.... the only bar on the island no less.

Despite the undoubted attractions of the nearby Abbey, which is one of Scotland's most historic and venerated sites, we felt a duty, to you the reader, to further investigate and report upon this outwardly unassuming hostelry, situated as it is on this most Holy of the Isles.


Leaving a sandy trail on the plush carpet, we made our way to a well upholstered seating area with a fine view over the Sound of Iona. We ordered some pints of Guinness to assist our perusal of the menu. On hearing of our desire to dine, the friendly staff asked if we would prefer to move to the formal dining room. We declined as we wished to cause no loss of appetite to other diners. We were accompanied by a certain odour which was evidence of several days' activity in the great outdoors.

Despite an extensive selection of freshly caught seafood, we chose steaks. After all, we had already enjoyed a luncheon of freshly caught and cooked mackerel on a deserted white sand beach. An excellent meal deserved to be washed down with some more refreshments which were served at just the right temperature. My only minor criticism was that a rare steak was served medium. This however, is something that is quite common in Scotland. Scots as a race like to make sure that their food is quite dead before they eat it. Some (though not this restuarant) even do the same with vegetables.

Boswell and Johnson also visited Iona on their tour of the Hebrides. Although Boswell did not drink alcohol he quoted Johnson "....No, Sir; there is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn." I think Johnson would have been well pleased with this one.


After a farewell to the attentive staff, we made our way back to the boats and our day on the water continued. The Martyr's Bay Restaurant and Bar proved to be a truly excellent sea kayaking pub, with first class food as a bonus! It is highly recommended.

Safety Notice. Sea kayaking is already a risky activity. Alcohol and water do not mix. This bar offered a wide selection of hot and cold non alcoholic beverages.

19/07/2007

Expedition planning

We are so lucky here in the west coast of Scotland, we have fantastic sea kayaking right on our doorstep. We do not have to embark on lengthy expeditions to get our fix of paddling. However, the staff of seakayakphoto.com do go on little mini expeditions of a week to 10 days or so. The depths of winter seems to be a good time to make plans with like minded friends.

I have been blessed to paddle with some of the nicest people you could meet anywhere. Here are two of them, Tony and David. As you can see there is a commonality of purpose, indeed single mindedness, in the pursuit of the expedition's objectives.

19/07/2007

Guiding light of Turnberry

Turnberry lighthouse has guided generations of travellers on this rocky part of the Ayrshire coastline at Maidens. It was completed in 1873 by David and Thomas Stevenson. It flashes a white light every 15 seconds.

Holy Island and Arran's rocky ridges

The cold, clear air at the weekend gave a great view of Holy Island and Arran's rocky ridges. This view across the Firth of Clyde was taken from just above Dunure. The low winter sun gave a lovely light to the underside of the clouds. Holy Island is 25km from Dunure and Arran's highest summit, Goatfell (874m), is 37km distant.

Watch out for an article about Holy Island and Arran in Issue 5 of Ocean Paddler magazine.

11/11/2007

I can see for miles and miles

"The Eiffel tower and the Taj Mahal are mine to see on clear days
You thought that I would need a crystal ball to see right through the haze"
The Who

Winter arrived in Scotland today with a blast of cold, clear Arctic air. The distant coast of Ireland could be seen from the Ayrshire coast, behind the great bulk of Ailsa Craig, which rises like a sentinel at the entrance to the Firth of Clyde.

Ailsa Craig is also known as Paddy's Milestone as it is half way between Belfast and Glasgow. This was a boat journey taken by many Irish people who sought work in Scotland following the potato famine.

It is the plug of a huge volcano that was active about 500 million years ago. The ash and lava of its cone have been eroded away by glaciers during successive Ice Ages.

In 1772 Thomas Pennant visited Ailsa Craig during a spell of calm, hot weather while he was en route from Brodick to Campbeltown. He wrote "and what is wonderful, throstles (thrushes) exerted the same melody in this scene of horror as they do in the groves of Hertfordshire".

Every four seconds a flash of white light, quite insignificant against the sunset, betrayed the position of the Ailsa lighthouse. It was built in 1886 by Thomas and David A Stevenson.

Ardeer duck

As the watery sun set over the Garnock estuary, a flight of wigeon flew high overhead. Below, hidden amongst the trees, is the ICI Nobel division factory at Ardeer which was founded by the Swede Alfred Nobel (of prize fame) in 1873. It manufactures nitroglycerin and dynamite....


On September the 8th 2007 there was a huge explosion and fire. It was started by three local boys, two 14 year olds and a 10 year old. They have been reported to the children's panel. Maybe their pocket money will be stopped for a week.

All was quiet as we left in the twilight.

03/11/2007

Harnessing the power of the wind.

The City of Adelaide was not the only wind powered craft to be found high and dry at Irvine. Not far from her decaying timbers lies another wooden sailing vessel. She is the Falcon, a converted 18' Blackwater sloop.

Instead of a mast she has a 16 foot twin bladed turbine mounted to a helicopter tail rotor hub. This transmitted the power to a large 3 bladed propeller. She was built as a post doctoral project run from 1983 to 1986 by Dr Neil Bose of the University of Glasgow.

She was able to sail in all directions to the wind, including directly into the wind. In 15 knots of wind she could do about 5 knots. I could just about keep up with her for a short (very) distance.


The Falcon's turbine is unlikely to turn again. In contrast, the rotors of the Busby Muir wind farm to the north of Irvine were turning steadily. It was commissioned in 2004 and its twelve towers each stand 100m high. It has a capacity of 24MW and is shortly to have 3 additional turbines added.

In the future great wind powered ships may again sail the seas. I wonder if they will have sails or turbines?

Odd one out!

A solitary greylag goose is surrounded by adult and juvenile mute swans.

The sad hulk and glorious past of the City of Adelaide

The sad hulk of the once proud City of Adelaide sailing clipper lies high above the flotsam and jetsam of Irvine inner harbour. She was built in Sunderland in 1864 and at one time held the record for the fastest sailing voyage between London and Australia. She has wooden planking over an iron frame and was built to carry both passengers and cargo. Two of the passengers, making a new life on her maiden voyage, were George and Annie Wilcox. (I am not sure if there is any family link.) Her first master was a Scot Captain David Bruce. Two of his sons were later to succeed him as master. All together she made 23 return voyages to Australia until she was sold in 1887 during the Australian depression.

In later life she spent nearly 50 years moored on the Clyde, in the centre of Glasgow, as the RNVR ship SV Carrick. She sank in 1991 and was later transferred to the Scottish Maritime Museum at Irvine. Unfortunately funds have never been found to restore her. A ray of hope exists as an Australian charity "Save the clipper ship City of Adelaide" is raising money for her restoration. The Australians recognize her crucial importance to the history of their country. It is estimated that 1.1 million Australians are descended from immigrants who made the long voyage to the other side of the world in the City of Adelaide.

Many people in Scotland have links with Australia. My brother emigrated to Melbourne and my wife's brother emigrated to Brisbane. We must go, probably in a Boeing 747. I wonder if any of them will still be around in 143 years?

Added 07/04/2009
Please see an update about the City of Adelaide here.

Swanning about on the river

The estuary of the River Garnock which flows into the Firth of Clyde at Irvine was teeming with bird life. In addition to these mute swans there were also whooper swans just in from Iceland. Flocks of peewits filled the skies with their effortless swirling and fluttering flight.


In comparison to the peewits, the swan's flight is like a miracle of heavy engineering.


What a magnificent sight!

04/11/2007

Stornoway lifeboat is in good hands.

Murdo (Murdy) Campbell is not only a member of Stornoway Canoe Club, renowned for his unsupported open crossings to Hebridean outliers such as Sula Sgeir and North Rona, he is also cox of the Stornoway lifeboat. He and his stalwart crew brave some of the most extreme conditions in UK waters to rescue mariners in distress.


At the Stornoway Storm Gathering it was an honour to paddle with Murdy and a pleasure to watch him calmly manoeuvre his Nordkapp HM through the gnarliest white stuff, laced with rock, at the mouth of Loch Roag.


He has a modest, unassuming manner which belies his achievements but which inspires great confidence in those around him. His reputation has even spread to distant seas.


If I needed to be rescued I cannot think of a more welcome sight than to see the likes of Murdy and his crew. As a seafaring group, we sea kayakers should be grateful for and support the charitable work of the RNLI. (Photo by Clark Fenton.)

A sunbeam shines down on memory lane.

One of the great pleasures of paddling at the recent Stornoway Storm Gathering was to be able to paddle with Duncan Winning OBE. It was a nostalgic trip for Duncan as he had last visited Loch Roag over 40 years ago. He was very keen to find a particular shell sand beach which was hidden away in the fastnesses of Loch Roag. He and friends had been lucky to find shelter there and camped while a great storm blew over night. We stopped at many beautiful white sand Hebridean beaches but none was the right one. At last, just as the day was fading, we found Duncan's beach. It was a wonderful moment.


Jeff Allen and Duncan about to walk down a sandy memory lane.


I have known Duncan for four years. We have phoned, exchanged letters, visited each other's houses, attended symposia in Skye and Jersey but this was the first time I had had the great pleasure to actually paddle with him. He is a font of knowledge about KAY-ak-ing and as he has paddled in Greenland I suspect his is the right pronunciation.


View Larger Map
In 1965 Duncan surveyed and made drawings of a kayak that Ken Taylor brought back from Illorsuit (Igdlorssuit) in Greenland. It had been made for Ken by local kayak builder Emanuele Korniliussen. Geoff Blackford built a ply wood version from Duncan's drawing and called it the Anas Acuta. In 1972 Valley started to commercially build a GRP version of the Anas Acuta which is still in production today. By coincidence, I delivered a brand new all black Anas Acuta to Si (aka Sgian Dubh) on Harris on my journey to the Storm Gathering.


Ken Taylor in the Igdlorssuit kayak. Ken and Duncan were fellow members of Garnock Canoe Club.


Andy Spink's Valley Anas Acuta on Scarp.

Recently Duncan and Gordon Brown visited Greenland and managed to track down Emanuele's two sons, one of whom is still building kayaks. Unfortunately they are only scale models for tourists. Undoubtedly the current "British style" of sea kayak has its roots in the Igdlorssuit kayak drawings made by Duncan.


Duncan Winning OBE paddles a boat influenced by his drawings of 1965; an Island Kayaks Expedition. Listen to Duncan in one of Simon Willis's excellent podcasts.

Lewisian gneiss caves

At the Stornoway Storm Gathering there was considerably opportunity to explore caves.

Pabaigh pour over

Jeff Allen is remarkable unconcerned about the approaching pour over on a reef to the west of Pabaigh Mor.

Stornoway Storm Gathering 20/10/2007.

Dawn of the Storm Gathering

On the dawn of the storm gathering we awoke on the east coast of Skye. The distant mountains of Scotland were dark silhouettes against the pre-dawn sky.

"Red sky in the morning: shepherd's warning."

The Stornoway Storm Gathering lived up to this forecast with force five winds and big swell and surf conditions.

Tolastadh Surf at the Storm Gathering

Patrick Winterton does a forward and sets up for his roll in mid air.


Jordan Cree (age 14) shows the oldies some style.

Friday at the Stornoway Storm Gathering saw several groups on Tolastadh beach, Isle of Lewis. A force 5 southerly held the faces of the 5 foot NE swells.

Photos Richard Cree, (photomontage Douglas wilcox).

19/10/2007

Eye of the Storm Gathering

On the second day of the Stornoway Storm Gathering we left the shelter of Bhaltos and Caolas Pabaigh and emerged into the Atlantic swell. It was breaking over the rocks of the exposed point of Eala Sheadha and through its great arch. Murty Campbell from Stornoway Canoe Club(centre) and Jeff Allen from Sea Kayaking Cornwall (right) probed the white stuff at the entrance to the arch. Eleanor MacGregor (left) goes in for a good close look.


Murty wants some photos and calls for a photographer! Clark Fenton asks if anyone fancies going in but there seems to be some reluctance to volunteer as another huge swell pounds through the arch.


Photo Clark Fenton
At last, a reluctant photographer inched in towards the impact zone.


The photographer then turned his kayak to brave the surges within the arch. Jeff and Murty nonchalantly stood by in the worst of the breaking waters. Clark now moved forwards, waiting for his chance. More sensible kayakers hung well back. Note that big incoming roller behind Murty's head.....


After noting its approach, I calmly pressed the shutter then....


....fortunately I floated over unscathed.


Photo Clark Fenton
Seeing his chance, Clark now went past me through the arch to the outside and got his camera ready for a photo. Jeff went through next and again stood by while I attempted to turn my kayak between the sets crashing through the arch. Finally, I emerge and thankfully am still upright. I sprinted between the breakers surging into the wall of rock at the far side of the arch.

Water, water everywhere and my mouth was dry as dust.

A Bhacsaigh moment

Barry Shaw emerges from the white stuff on the north coast of Bhacsaigh at the Lewis Storm Gathering

Storm Gathering, Lewis 2007

Traditional clinker built wooden fishing boats hauled up on the beach for the winter. Kyle of Scarp, Harris.

Just arrived on the blustery isles of Harris and Lewis. Stornoway Canoe Club are hosting the second UK Storm Gathering. I am just heading for the first evening events and looking forward to some fine sea kayaking over the next few days.

Adventure begins at home!

At the weekend I got thinking about adventure on the water. In Scotland we have what must be some of the best paddling in the world, mostly within a day's drive/ferry trip from the main cities.

On Sunday we paddled past three ancient castles, old harbours, small coves, wide surf beaches, caves, stacks, headlands and waterfalls plunging off cliffs into the sea. We had great views of an ancient volcanic island rising sheer out of the sea and the western horizon was filled with another island's lofty granite ridges disappearing into the clouds. Seals followed us while the air was filled with flocks of oyster catchers and sandpipers. Curlews, herons, geese, mallard ducks and swans were feeding round the shoreline and rafts of eider duck were forming offshore.

The waters ranged from flat calm (where we were sheltered from the southerly winds of up to force 5) to quite interesting round the headlands. There was even a pub that serves dry suited thirsty paddlers at the half way point! All in all just about a perfect days paddling. Had we driven far? Had we flown to another land? Had we burned large amounts of precious hydrocarbons getting to this exotic location? Well the photo above is just 50km from my front door and our landing spot was 30 minutes drive from home.

I guess the message is that we do not always have to traverse the planet to look for adventure, sometimes its on your own doorstep. The other side of this coin is that you should never become complacent sea kayaking on your home waters. As soon as you leave the beach you enter another world and you should be prepared for adventure. All my unexpected "epics" have been on home waters on the Firth of Clyde.

Cailean and Michael have also written (more timely posts) on environmental themes, I meant to post this yesterday but was up all night preparing documents for work.

Blog Action Day was yesterday!

Introduce a friend to sea kayaking week.

Just in case you did not know, it is "introduce a friend to sea kayaking week"! David and I took Keith out. The first section of our favoured "Three Castles" route was from Maidens to Culzean Castle and was suitably flat to learn about paddling.


After a lunch stop in Croy Bay (with a wet relaunch in the surf) the section up to Dunure Castle was thirst inducingly bumpy. So we stopped for a pint at the Anchorage Bar in Dunure. Keith was beginning to like this sort of exercise.


In fact by the time we reached our last landfall at Bracken Bay, under the Heads of Ayr, he did not want to stop. Unfortunately after passing Greenan Castle, we were soon back at Ayr just as darkness began to fall. I hope he will come again.

14/10/2007

A day at the races, continued...

After we slipped through the gap to the north end of Lunga we turned north past the islets of Fiola Meadhonhach and Rubha Fiola. The spring ebb tide was running strongly south but we found ourselves in a counter eddy which propelled us northwards to Sgeir nan Gabhar. This is the sight that awaited us.... a harmless little tide rip.


The little loop on the map at the top end of Sgeir nan Gabhar must look so insignificant to you, the dear reader. However, to Tony and I it represents a mountain we could not climb, a torrent of defeat, the ebb of our dignity and a flood of retreat.

We left the shelter of the eddy and immediately were in the full force of the rip. Another big eddy was coming up the west side of Rhubha Fiola and curling round to join the main stream that was running to the SE. It prevented us finding an inside route and a wall of water pushed us further out. I was paddling as hard as I could, my paddles were flashing in the sunlight, my lungs were bursting, I seemed to be making progress. Tony came alongside and as I glanced towards him I saw we had made no forward progress at all! Teeth gritted, I started panting as I tried to increase my stoke rate. "I'm not going to last much longer!" The sparkling waves were speeding past faster than I had ever paddled before and my chest was bursting. A fulmar swept effortlessly into view, its teasing wing tip clipping the wave that was just about to pile into me and sap my last reserve. I could resist the streaming tide no longer. "Tony I've had it!"

I broke off and relief and spray swept over me as I bounced downstream at high speed through the wave chain. It seemed like an eternity of effort but the GPS later revealed that our premature ejection from the race had occured after a mere two minutes.


We now had a problem. We had set up camp on Lunga's west coast and now the powerful tides of the Firth of Lorn had cut us off. Our only chance was to try and return through the gap we had been playing in. Unfortunately the tide had dropped and a steep wall of rushing water lay ahead. Tony managed to get through at his second attempt. I made three unsuccessful attempts but was by now completely exhausted. We tried to set up my tow rope for Tony to pull me through but there was nowhere for him to stand far enough upstream and he lost leverage just as I approached the fastest section of the chute. Beaten back by the force of nature, I retired to lick my wounds and look for my split paddle that had come off in the struggle with the tow line.

A few minutes later Tony appeared on foot, over the rocks and kindly paddled my boat speedily up the chute. That's what younger, fitter friends are for!


We returned to our camp on Lunga's west coast. The golden eagle was circling overhead. It was great to rest our weary bones round the camp fire and slake our substantial thirst as the sun went down behind the mountains of Mull.

What would the morning hold? Before then, the eagle's hungry chick squawked all night.

25/08/2007

A day at the races

After a pleasant second luncheon, we paddled round the SW corner of Lunga. The tide and swell made for great paddling conditions.


We continued up the west coast of Lunga looking for the entrance to the channel between the maze of islands at its north end.


There was about a metre diffence in level in the channel and the ebb tide was now running strongly.


So we stopped for a play.

25/08/2007