Sunglasses and pogies across a dazzling, cold sea.

The stop on Bute was cold despite the winter sun. It was a relief to start the 10.6km crossing of the Sound of Bute to Sannox on Arran. Pogies helped keep our hands warm. The thermometer on my radio didn't go above -2C all day.

We left Bute in very calm conditions and a little sprinting soon had us warm again.

It was a very companionable crossing and the mountainouus backdrop was its usual magnificent self!

About half way across, a breeze got up from the SE. It seemed to accelerate round the steep slopes of Holy Island.

We were glad of our sunglasses as we paddled across a dazzling sea.

As we approached Glen Sannox, our tiny craft were dwarfed by the scale of the landscape. When  we entered the cold shade of its mountains there was no more need for sunglasses. Indeed, the nearby village of Lochranza gets almost no direct sun in winter. The sun never rises above Arran's peaks from its street..

Making light work of a huge volume of melt and a small volume of malt.

It did not take long to reach the Little (Wee) Cumbrae from Portencross. One of the first Scottish light beacons to warn shipping is situated on the summit of the island. It is a simple round tower, 8.5m high, which...

... was built by James Ewing in 1757. An open coal brazier was situated at its top and served as the source of light. It proved to be a profitable business as there was a tax on every ship, which passed on the way up the Clyde to Port Glasgow and Greenock. However, it was often obscured by low cloud and it had a voracious appetite for coal. The coal came from near Glasgow and was transported by horse and cart for 45km over the hills to Irvine in Ayrshire before being transferred to a boat for the Wee Cumbrae. It was then hauled another kilometer up to the 123m high summit. It was not exactly light work...

...so it was replaced in 1793 by this lighthouse (with oil lamps and reflectors) on a raised beach on the west coast of the island. From here we now crossed the main Firth of Clyde shipping channel...

...to the Island of Bute. Our arrival was marked by the modern Rubh' an Eun automated solar powered light.

We hadn't bothered watching the GPS as we thought we were crossing the channel at slack, low water. However, looking at our tracks later, we discovered we had been carried 0.7km down tide, before we started correcting. The ebb had lasted longer than expected, because of the huge volume of  melt water from the recent snow coming down the Clyde. This happened after a dramatic thaw, which saw a 22 degree Celsius temperature range in less than 24 hours.  The Clyde river levels at Daldowie gauge were 10 times higher than base levels!

We landed at Port Leithne for first luncheon. Jim, Phil, Tony and I had come equipped with fine Scottish fare.. we had each brought a different malt whisky. We were somewhat bemused to discover that our four friends from the Castle Craigs Canoe Club had brought none! That's one of the problems with paddling in a regular group, you begin to think that the way you do things is normal. One of the advantages in paddling with a new group is having your preconceptions about what is normal behaviour exposed for what they are.

Well, all I can say to our new friends from CCCC is "Fancy thinking that coming out seakayaking without a dram of malt is normal!" :o)

A new dawn on a favourite paddle.

On Sunday we went for one of our favourite local paddles. We met in darkness  at Ardrossan ferry  terminal where we left shuttle cars. We then drove north to Portencross as the sun was coming up.

It was low water at Portencross, where we met the Castle Craig Kayaking Club who were planning a similar trip. At low tide this is one of the most awkward launches on the Ayrshire coast. An alternative is to carry or trolley the kayaks 300m to the little beach to the north of the castle...

...talking of which... Portencross Castle has now been restored and will be open to the public on limited occasions from April 2011.

Phil and...

Jim were quickly on the water.

Bruce from CCKC soon caught up with Tony and they swapped stories about their recent 5* sessions on Skye.

Although Harvey and Rob are both from CCKC, Harvey had just come from Ardrossan but Rob had driven 3 hours from Selkirk on the other side of Scotland!

Kathryn also CCKC was more sensible, she comes from Largs just 10 minutes up the road!

Introductions over, it was time to go. We were bound for Arran via the Wee Cumbrae and Bute. Yes, I know we did this just a few weeks ago, but I did say it was one of our favourite paddles!

Sun goes down at Turnberry, after a three castle day!

By coincidence, four refreshment breaks had taken so much time that we arrived at Barwhin Point just at sunset.

Both Turnberry lighthouse...

...and Ailsa Craig...

...add a certain something to Firth of Clyde sunsets.
 

The sunset did not last long...

...and soon the flash of Turnberry lighthouse was the brightest object in the sky...

...and we paddled into Maidens in near darkness after a three castle day!

Sundown at Culzean

 South of Dunure, Turnberry lighthouse appeared on the horizon.

 We took a third luncheon (not liquid this time) at the north end of Culzean (pron. Cullane) Bay.

By the time we got going again the sun had begun to set.

The Culzean coast line was in deep shade...

...and as we paddled under sandstone cliffs, the great castle of Culzean appeared on the skyline.

This was to be our third and last castle of the day. The caves below the castle have a long history of habitation. They are reputed to connect with the dungeons of the original stone keep, which is buried deep within the 18th century Robert Adam edifice which we see today.

We paddled on, south towards Barwhin Point and the sunset beyond...

Ice cold in Dunure

After leaving the Heads of Ayr, the coastline swings round to the SW and we caught our first glimpse of Ailsa Craig.

We then came to Dunure, our second castle of the day, which like the first, was perched right on the edge of a cliff.

We landed within the little harbour below the castle.

In the summer it is full of recreational boats but these two swans had it pretty much to themselves. The quay side consisted of two pitches of sheet ice, the crossing of which carried the risk of a close inspection of the swans. The reason for risking this icy crux was that the water in our drinking bladders had also frozen and to put it bluntly, we were drouthy!

Like all good harbours, Dunure has a pub and one which welcomes sea kayakers!

How do you like your Guinness? Why, we will take the Extra Cold, just to warm us up thanks! We didn't stay too long, given the treacherous ice that lay between the pub and our kayaks.

We were not the only ones to stop at Dunure for a warm up. This small flock of redshanks had found a south facing rock to catch the sun and keep out of the cold north wind. All but two "watchmen" had their heads under their wings.

Soon we were back on the water, leaving the comforts of Dunure in our wakes.

Jetting off for some winter sun on Costa Clyde

From the mouth of the Doon we paddled under the grim walls of Greenan Castle, which is perched right on the edge of the cliff. Castles are one of the great features of paddling in Scotland. They are a reminder that what are now apparently remote places were once lived in (and fought over) by our ancestors.

We bumped into Richard, from Ayr, who was trying out his shiny new Rockpool GT. I particularly liked the deck, which blended from dark grey at the stern to white at the bow, very smart!

As we headed south, round the Heads of Ayr, our ears were assailed by a terrible racket...

...which was made by an Antonov AN-123 (Alpha Delta Bravo 1859) heavy lift cargo aircraft taking off from Prestwick airport. Fully loaded these weigh 405,000kgs, no wonder the engines are a bit noisy. About 3 years ago, I saw its even bigger sister the AN-225, which has a maximum loaded weight of 600,000kgs, taking off from Prestwick. The air was crackling!

Once round the Heads, all was quiet and we even found shelter from the cold northerly breeze.

A convenient tree, which had no doubt come down the river Doon, ...

...made a wonderful seat for an early luncheon.

Sitting there in the winter sun, it was hard to imagine the snowy chaos which had enveloped most of Scotland.