No ghosts on Little Ross Island, despite its tragic past.

By the time we set up camp on Little Ross Island, the sun was already setting across the broad expanse of Wigton Bay.

 We walked up to the lighthouse  as the last rays of the sun reflected on...

 ...the windows of the lighthouse keepers' cottages. It was behind...

 ...this window that the dark events of Little Ross Island's past were played out in 1960. The lighthouse keeper was shot in the head by the assistant lighthouse keeper who was later arrested in Yorkshire. He was found guilty at his trial in Kirkcudbright. There is a moving account of the tragedy by local man David Collin who found the body with his father.

As we pondered the past tragedy at Little Ross lighthouse the day slipped away and

...as we walked back down to our camp in the gathering darkness it was hard to believe that such a sad event had taken place in this beautiful spot. Several sea kayaking friends refuse to camp here. You might wonder if we were concerned about camping in such a place but there was no sense of malevolence, only a feeling of peace. We could think of no reason why any spirit of a murdered lighthouse keeper could hold any ill will towards mariners like ourselves.

 As the last embers of the day faded behind a pile of old lobster creels, we gathered what scant driftwood was to be found. We would need a fire as a chilling F4/5 northerly wind got up as...

...night fell. Fortunately we had brought a good supply of logs in dry bags on our rear decks and soon enjoyed the warmth of a blazing fire, (Carrying the logs meant we had left our trolleys behind. This omission would warm us further the following evening...) We spent several hours enjoying great chat while we ate baked sweet potatoes washed down by an isotonic drink (which is good for you) and is made by an Irish company.

I was woken in the middle of the night. The flood tide in the Sound was running against the north wind and it sounded as if the waves of the tide race were lapping the tent. Although we had carried them well up the beach, I was worried about the boats so I got up and used my tow line to tie them together and secure them to a rock. Suddenly a dreadful noise, like a pair of cats being strangled, reverberated round the island. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up but it was no ghost, just a pair of squabbling herons.

Read more  about the sunset at Little Ross Island on Ian's blog here.

Dark clouds gather above Little Ross, an island with a dark past.

 The high cliffs of the Ree of Ross gave way...

 ...to the lower rocks of Fox Craig and we caught first sight of our destination, or rather the lighthouse on its summit.

 We planned to camp on Little Ross Island which now lay just a short hop across...

 ...the Sound. Little Ross Island stands in the mouth of Kirkcudbright Bay and in wind against tide conditions this can be a wild place. All was quiet on this beautiful evening as it was near slack water and there was almost no wind.

 Taking advantage of the calm conditions, we paddled round the reefs at...

 ...the south end of the island before...

 ...turning north up its east coast.

 Coincidental with our arrival dark clouds gathered...

 ...above the dazzling white lighthouse tower.

 Despite its beautiful and peaceful location this lighthouse has a dark secret.

 It did not take long to reach the north end of the island and...

...from there we could look down the east cost and across the Sound which we had only recently crossed.

A steep cobbled beach proved the best place to land though earlier in the year this is the site of a gull breeding colony. We wasted no time in getting the tents up in the last of the daylight. We did not want to be caught by nightfall, given the island's dark secret...

Pleasant procrastination during our peregrinations round Slack Heuch Head.

 From the Mull of Ross we crossed Fauldbog Bay as the sun was fast sinking to the west.

 We explored the rocky recesses among the stacks at the...

 ...foot of the Slack Heugh cliffs where we...

 ...found a blow hole which reverberated...

 ...deep within our chests as the compressed air was blown back through the swell.

 We soaked up the atmosphere as we drifted along the coast. The low warm light made the most of the cliff's contorted features and...

 ...yellow lichen covered rocks.

This was a truly beautiful October evening in a...

....stunning location.

As we entered Slack Heugh Bay a flash of...

...wings revealed the presence of a peregrine falcon.

Still we procrastinated and we were not yet round the Kokatat yellow cliffs of Slack Heugh Head. The autumn night was nearly upon us...

Read more procrastinations on Ian's blog here.

Erratic moments on the Mull of Ross, which should not be confused with the Ross of Mull.

Beyond Rumblekirn we rounded Point of Green before...

...paddling across the open mouth of Brighouse Bay.

The quality of the Solway light and the skyscapes were outstanding. A pod of leaping bottlenose dolphins added to the magic of the moment. Then a little breeze got up and allowed us...

...to complete the crossing with our sails up.

The east coast of Brighouse Bay at the Mull of Ross consists of razor sharp fangs of rock but there is one small breach, where we landed for a late afternoon luncheon.

The pebbles on the beach were a sight to behold. Most were of the local banded Silurian sandstone but here and there, there were erratics which had come some distance. The pink granite pebble is not local as Galloway granite is silver-grey. This one will have been brought here by glaciers during the Ice Age, possibly from the Ross of Mull. What a journey, from the Ross of Mull to the Mull of Ross!

What a view we enjoyed on our luncheon stop. We savoured the moment knowing that the day was coming to an end.

We climbed a little way up the Mull of Ross to make the most of the view but the lowering sun...

...called us back to the boats. We still had some way to go to Little Ross Island.

A couple of Rumblekirns and much friction between Scotland and England.

 We left Castle Haven with a fair wind, a...

 ...following tide and the sun sparkling on the shimmering Solway sea.

Passing Kirkandrews we saw the trailers and launch site of the two Campbeltown fishing boats we had seen earlier.

We had left the granite rock of the Galloway hills far behind and were now paddling past layers of Silurian sandstone which had originally been formed at the bottom of the Lapetus Ocean when Scotland was situated near the equator.

As England collided with Scotland the horizontal layers on the ocean floor were folded up and many became vertical such as here at Rumblekirn. A Rumblekirn is a cave with a blowhole at its back.

Below half tide this coast is a maze of reefs with sharp fangs of rock formed by the vertical strata ready to rip the bottom out of any boat. The steamship Ormsa stranded near hear in 1907 but the coast is literally littered with the wrecks of wooden 19th century smacks, sloops and schooners.

Above half tide you can paddle into Duncan's Cave and behind the nearby Little Pinnacle but we had to settle with a...

 ...view from further out.

Dove Cave can be entered only at high tide and these cliffs are indeed home to rock doves. There are also a pair of peregrine falcons here though we did not see them (We would see another peregrine further round the coast).

 Once we rounded Borness Point we left the Isles of Fleet behind and ahead we could see...

 ...the coast of Cumbria in England which was 40 kilometers distant with the hills of the Lake District rising behind.

 We came to a second Rumblekirn and could see through the blowhole at its back.

We paddled into a deep geo behind Rumblekirn and could see where the blow hole exited but could not approach due to the low tide.

The walls of of the geo were impressively vertical as they soared upwards towards the sky. Who would have thought that there had been so much friction between Scotland and England? 

Read more on Ian's blog here.