Sea lions and elephants on Islay's north coast...it's like Jura on steroids!

 Leaving Port an t-Sruthain we continued our exploration...

...of Islay's north coast in mirror calm conditions.

We were paddling within the shelter of the extensive reef system at the base of Rubha Bholsa. In the distance beyond the reefs, lay low lying Oronsay and Colonsay. Something wasn't quite right though. This was when the first niggle of doubt entered my head. Even at 10km away, the extensive reefs, to the SW of Oronsay, were visibly white with breaking swell. Yet at our feet, round the northern rocks of Islay, all was still calm. Despite the forecast, a swell from the south of west had got up....

Leaving the shelter of the reefs we rounded Rubha Bholsa to see the most amazing scene. Huge headlands of rock rose up from the sea, with their precipitous sides facing inland. In profile they looked like the heads of great rocky sea lions trying to climb onto the land. One after the other they disappeared into the distance. Between each headland there were more raised beaches, caves and arches. We were lost for words and appreciated the scale of the seascape in silence.

We now paddled south towards the distinctive peak of Mala Bholsa.

The raised beach below the hill has one of the finest collections of sea arches I have ever seen.

They looked like stone elephants, with their trunks extending down to the sea. All in all the north coast of Islay is like the outstanding west coast of Jura on steroids!

A lonely sheiling on the north coast of Islay.

Above the beach at Port an t-Sruthain on the North coast of Islay, we found a natural amphitheatre surrounded by the cliff line of the raised beach. At the focal point are the remains of an old sheiling. The tinkling of a stream, cascading down the cliffs, explained the Gaelic name of the beach, “Port of the Stream”.

It would have been a hard life eking out a living here. In the distance, low lying Oronsay and Colonsay are backed by the higher mountains of Mull on the far side of the Firth of Lorn.

Today the only residents were oyster catchers. Their nests were simple scrapes in the ground but their eggs were almost invisible. We were delighted to see the owner of this nest circle round and land on the nest as soon as we moved on a little way.

The dykes of the north coast of Islay.

All too soon, the tidal assistance came to an end when we rounded the point below the Rhuvaal lighthouse.

Sadly, the original lantern and rotating lens of this beautiful lighthouse has been replaced by what looks like a 100 Watt bulb on the end of a pole! However, the stonework of the tower has recently been painted and it was looking very well maintained. 

From Rhuvaal we turned westwards along the wild north coast of Islay.  Great basalt dykes emerge from the sea and march straight up the hillside...

...some 65km from their origin in the Tertiary volcano that once erupted on Mull.

Huge caverns, many now dry, hark back to a time when sea levels were higher and the coast was being battered by sea ice.

We founds a dramatic break in the rocky fore shore at Port an t-Sruthain. 

A narrow channel, just wide enough for a small boat...

...cuts straight through fangs of rock and emerges below a steep storm beach of cobbles. Was it man made or the result of natural erosion of a dyke?

 

The start of another Islay adventure.

It was with considerable anticipation that Phil and I viewed Port Ellen as the ferry from Kintyre...

...approached the terminal on Islay's southern coast. Islay's characteristic whitewashed buildings with black painted windows crowded round the bays on either side of the jetty.

We then drove north to Islay's second terminal, Port Askaig. As we launched from the little harbour, the flood tide was already surging north through the Sound of Islay.

No sooner had we crossed the eddy line, than we were being propelled northwards, at a very respectable 15km/hour.

After we passed two big, white washed buildings called Caol Ila and Bunnahabhain (with pleasantly intoxicating aromas emanating from both) we were surrounded by wilderness. Only the pipping of oystercatchers and the gentle rippling of the tide disturbed the silence.

The magnificent Paps of Jura, towered over the far side of the Sound ...

...but at this speed, we soon left them behind.


Learn more about this fabulous island at Islayblog.com and Islay weblog

Several short sunny days on a sojourn to the Solway .

At the end of April and beginning of May, I enjoyed a fantastic holiday on Fleet Bay in the Solway Firth. Each day dawned sunny...

...and the calm days were spent exploring the Islands of Fleet.

Thee Murray's Isles have a large cormorant colony which is surrounded by a gull colony. I was saddened to see a noisy party in 4 SOT/recreational kayaks paddle close under the rocks. The cormorants all flew off and the gulls went straight in for their eggs. The next day the cormorants had abandoned their nesting sites.

Barlocco Isle is a great place to stop for a picnic and enjoy the view up  Fleet Bay to the Galloway hills beyond. My injured knee gets pretty sore and stiff sitting still in a kayak. On a longer crossing, I need lifted out by understanding friends. On my own, when I have to get out of the kayak myself, I don't like paddling much more than half an hour before a break. What a hardship!

Fleet Bay empties at spring low tides so it is good to stretch the legs on the sands before the tide comes in and the kayaking starts.

Most of the traditional salmon stake nets have now been abandoned so the salmon now swim free...

...unlike this unfortunate lion's mane jellyfish.

Each time I went out to the islands...

...I chose a different route.

During the week as the tides moved to neaps...

...high water became later and...

...I saw the islands in a new light.

The casual boaters were now nowhere to be seen and I was so pleased to see the cormorants back on their roosts. Hopefully they had laid fresh clutches of eggs.

By the time I left the springs were returning with high water in day again.

I am particularly fond of two buildings at either end of the bay. The chapel on the Cardoness shore and...

...the Coo Palace (folly) at Knockbrex shore.

Needless to say my Flat Earth kayak sail saw plenty of service.

When I came in from my last trip to the islands, I could hardly tear myself away. I must return soon.

What a place!

The western cliffs of Ailsa Craig.

On our recent trip to Ailsa Craig, we spent time under the western cliffs and the Water Cave before rounding Stranny Point. Unfortunately the cacophony of the birds' calls and the smell of their guano does not come across in this video.

A near miss on the Solway

 On the 30th of April, I was enjoying a holiday on Fleet Bay in the Solway Firth. Despite the sun a strong offshore wind meant my kayak stayed firmly on the beach. Actually it didn't! It got blown about 10m from where I left it!

The wind was blowing straight out the bay towards distant Burrow Head.

My anemometer was averaging 28knots on the beach. I watched enviously as Richard was enjoying a good blast on his windsurfer. Due to increasing problems with my knees, the last time I got out windsurfing was in October 2008. I do miss it.

Anyway, I have a nice pair of 7x50 binoculars and was enjoying watching the fun when I suddenly noticed a double sit on top being blown out to sea at a very rapid rate. There was no sign of any paddlers, so I was just about to phone Liverpool coastguard when I noticed a 20 foot day sailing boat heading for the kayak. Her experienced crew had decided to motor out (she has an inboard outboard well if you know what that is!) despite being competent sailors. I scanned the surface of the sea but I couldn't see anyone in the water.

The day boat very sensibly motored straight up wind covering the area over which the kayak had been blown. Then I saw an arm held straight up. Fortunately the day boat crew saw it. They had a hell of a job trying lift the lone kayaker into the cockpit as the day boat has a relatively high freeboard. The lucky kayaker was clearly barely able to help and collapsed into the cockpit. He was not wearing a buoyancy aid and, despite the water being only 6.5 degrees centigrade was wearing shorts. It turned out he had gone out on his own in the back seat of the sit on top. He couldn't turn it round into the wind to paddle back to the shore in the strong wind. He then fell in and the wind blew the sit on top away.

It was an ebb spring tide so if he had been swept out past the islands he would probably not have been found alive. He was extremely lucky he was spotted and that help was at hand. This sort of near miss and rescue will never make national statistics but it must be happening all round the coast. A combination of hot sun, cold water and an offshore wind can be lethal. I have witnessed 4 fatal boating accidents in Fleet Bay since 1968 and lost count of innumerable near misses. Thank goodness this one had a happy ending. I was glad I had decided to stay on the beach.

This is the Hawk 20 lying at her mooring on a calm day. It is a nice boat.