Tiderace Seakayaks.

Tiderace Seakayaks is a new name on the UK sea kayaking scene. Aled Williams (formerly of Rockpool kayaks and designer of the delectable Alaw and Alaw Bach) has decided to rename his new company (formerly known as In-Uit Kayaks) in respect of the tradition and culture of the Inuit people who come from the Arctic territories of Alaska, Canada and Greenland. Michael, who has spent a great deal of time with these people, has already drawn attention to the appropriateness of the name. I am sure Aled chose the name out of respect to the Inuit origins of our sport. I am equally sure that Aled has made the correct and sensitive decision to rename the company.

I like the name Tiderace and here is Kenny paddling an Aled designed boat in a tide race: the Cuan Sound.

Razorbills

Hello, my name is Neville and I have come here because I am a razorbill....

Crossing to Scarba

Leaving the fertile grassy slopes of the

Garvellachs, we headed south east for Scarba. It is a barren and rocky isle with few places to land. We stopped here for a second luncheon whilst we waited for a favourable tide in the Corryvreckan. In this view the Garvellachs can be seen in the middle distance with Mull beyond.


The GPS track of our route.


From the Garvellachs the horizon to the south east is blocked by Scarba on the left and Jura on the right. From this distance the Gulf of Corryvreckan, which lies between, them looks like a sheltered sea loch.


There is a raised beach on top of a line of cliffs which surround most of Scarba's coast. This means that even if you can find a landing spot, access to the interior is barred by the cliffs. No wonder the 5th century monks chose the Garvellachs!

Eithne's grave.

This simple stone, incised with a Celtic cross, can be found on a peaceful knoll, high above the monastery on Eileach an Naoimh in the Garvellachs.


We have wandered and spent time reflecting here several times before traversing the tides of the Grey Dogs or the Corryvreckan. I have always enjoyed the contrasting emotions experienced on such sea kayaking trips.

The grave is thought to be the last resting place of St Columba's mother, Eithne.

Praise the dawn.

Sammy razorbill greets a new day.

It's always reassuring to have another day ahead of you.

Leaving of Jura

A charter boat enters the Corryvreckan at dawn to pick up a party from the Glengarrisdale bothy. I wonder if they had managed to drink all their supplies and if they were ready?


It may be calm but the water is accelerating and it is against us!


Looking back to the Corryvreckan. Tony decided it would be fun to paddle back to Carraig Mohr with the start of the flood back into the Corryvreckan. I was not so sure and what I did not realize is that Tony thought Maol Eilean was Carraig Mor (which was actually a half kilometer further on). So Tony hung back at Maol Eilean while I paddled on down the accelerating slope! Fortunately I managed to break out next to the rocks. I then had a stiff paddle back round the point, much to Tony's amusement!. This was at 07:39 am two days after neaps and slack water before the start of the flood was predicted to be 06:59. A few minutes later and we would have been back on the west coast of Jura!


Sammy the white tailed sea eagle and friend.


A blink of sun on barnacle covered rocks on the east coast Jura. The north going flood was building against us all the while so we eddy hopped up the coast. Breaking through the current round each headland was tricky as it was all too easy for the bow to swing wide carrying us far out into the strongest current. The sharpest eddy line we met was at Rubh' an Truisealaich, just round the green hill above. After that the current dropped and in places we had a helpful counter eddy.


Sammy the otter.


Tony with the Paps of Jura disappearing into the mist.


Sammy the puffin.


A last blink of sun while crossing the Sound of Jura and approaching the Knapdale coast. This was the end of a perfect weekend. We arrived at Carsaig Bay just as the drizzle started and the midges came out.

Sunset over the Great Race of the Corryvreckan

Sunset over the Gulf of Corryvreckan with Scarba behind.


After we came through and crossed the Corryvreckan twice we found this great little bay to camp at with a ringside seat of the tides rushing by.


LW water was at 18:04, this photo was taken at 18:24 and our observations confirmed that slack water lasts about an hour at neaps, very roughly 30 minutes on either side of LW and HW. On a previous visit to the Corryvreckan, at springs when we landed on the Scarba shore, slack water lasted no more than 10 minutes and it very quickly accelerated to 18km per hour so forget the rule of thirds in these waters! At slack water, the wind also dropped and hordes of midges descended upon us. We were no longer top predators and our ranking in the food chain dropped a notch. A very persistent cuckoo seemed to be laughing at us.


Tony and I climbed high into the hills above the Corryvreckan at the north end of Jura. Sitting on a rock we witnessed the most amazing sunset. We were not the only witnesses. hundreds of larval and adult ticks attacked us. Our position on the food chain dropped a further notch. At least the last wolf was shot in the 18th century!


The Great Race began to form as the flood built up and stretched far out to the western horizon.

Then as the sun set and the golden light turned to pink, we began to hear a roar like a distant river in spate. Right on cue the Hag appeared, her breaking waves twisting and dancing in a sunset maelstrom. This photo was taken at 21:26 3hours and 20 minutes after the start of the neap flood. The waves of the Hag had just started to break. On a previous visit at springs (see top photo) the waves began to break much earlier. It was very noticeable that at neaps the strongest current hugged the east and north side of the Jura shore for the first 3 hours of the flood then in the last 3 hours it moved over towards the Scarba shore.


This wide angle shot will give a better impression of the scale of the Hag. She rises above a pinnacle on the sea bed.


Photo Tony Page.

The end of a perfect day. On return to the camp each of the millions of Jura midges seemed to have rung several friends and invited them to dinner. The air was thick with the blighters. My Canadian midge jacket did the business, none of that dreadful itch round the midriff, and by extracting my arms from the sleeves, I was able to sup a most appropriate libation, a 25 year old Jura malt whisky, bottled from a single barrel! Sea kayaking heaven!