Saved by a sundowner off Ardrossan.

 As we set off from Ardneil Bay for Ardrossan with Ailsa Craig on the horizon, a light breeze got up and...

 ...it was a great relief to my injured shoulder to be able to hoist the sails. The sun was now well round to the NW and was setting well to the north of the Arran mountains. We were now having to share our sea room with somewhat bigger craft.

Away to the south, the MV Isle of Arran ferry was heading out from Ardrossan to Campbelltown, the route we had taken out to Kintyre six days previously. The 190m bulk carriers MV Star Polaris and the 289m CHS Cosmos were at anchor waiting to make their way up to Hunterston. The 275m Da Yuan Hu tanker  was waiting to make her way to the Finnart oil terminal. The stone tower marks Horse Island which lies off the port of Ardrossan.

Out at sea the 68.6m MRV Scotia was making her way up the Clyde. She is a Scottish Government fisheries research vessel.

 Then my prayers were answered, a brisk sundowner picked up and our kayaks were soon travelling at their full displacement speed.

The wind was slightly cross offshore from the ESE so it was a tight close reach all the way down the Ayrshire coast.

 It really was superb fun what a way to finish a...

...200km trip. Phil's expression says it all. Mind you, we still had the small matter of an awkward tide to contend with...

A small matter of the Trade Descriptions Act as we set foot on the sands of Ayrshire.

 We had  left the Little Cumbrae floating serenely on a limpid sea but...

 ...we needed to keep a sharp eye out for other vessels such as FV Five Sisters (OB 353) from Campbeltown (from where we had set off on our adventure 6 days previously.

In the calm conditions my injured shoulder was really feeling the strain as we had to drop the sails. The others were soon far ahead but...

 ...I caught up as they waited for the bulk carrier CSL Clyde to pass on her way north to Hunterston ore terminal.

 At long last we approached Portencross Castle and made our way round Farland Head, upon which it stands, to the sheltered...

 ...pink sands of Ardneil Bay. It was time for a celebration! We had set foot on Ayrshire for the first time since we had bought single tickets for Campbeltown and left its shores six days previously on the ferry MV Isle of Arran. Mind you it was a pretty watery celebration. We had run out of Guinness earlier in the trip and...

 ...had to resupply in Tarbert some 40 km away, far to the north of the distant Isle of Arran. Unfortunately the Co-op store only sold  a pale yellow liquid...

...called S***l*. We thought it was mislabeled P**h, but at least it was wet and we were very thirsty.

Perhaps our celebrations were a bit hasty. Our cars were at the ferry terminal car park, still some 10 km away, beyond the distant headland. My shoulder ached just thinking about it. We also faced a final hurdle, because we had cut our trip short by 18 hours....the tide....

The clarity of light and reflected clouds at Little Cumbrae.

We paddled east across the Firth of Clyde towards the Little Cumbrae island. To its north we could just make out the Victorian Villas of Millport on the neighbouring Great Cumbrae.As we approached...

 ...the wind gradually died away leaving a glassy calm sea upon which...
.

 ...the reflections of clouds gently rolled on the gentle swell.

 It was 5pm and the sun was well round to the west, which gave a wonderful light on the south west side of the Little Cumbrae.

The Stevenson lighthouse was clearly illuminated as was the distant PV Audacia and accompanying tug Battler. Audacia is a 225m pipe laying vessel.

 The clarity of the evening light added to the sharpness of the reflected clouds which lined up over the Little Cumbrae.

As we passed the south end of Little Cumbrae we embarked on the second last leg of our trip, the crossing of Fairlie Roads to Farland Head on the Ayrshire coast.

A turbulent past but all calm now as we made our way past Garroch Head.

The conical profile of St Blane's Hill is the distinguishing landmark at the south end of the Island of Bute. This part of Bute was one of the earliest Christian settlements in Scotland. St Catan founded a monastery here at the end of the sixth century and was succeeded by his nephew, St Blane. The monastery has a turbulent past. Two abbots were killed and the monastery was sacked by the Vikings at the end of the eighth century but the church ruins we see today was rebuilt in the 12th century

South of St Blane's hill, the smaller Barr hill slopes gently to the southernmost promontory of Bute, Garroch Head.

On a calm day the low lying Garroch Head looks very inauspicious and for those who believe the false mantra "There is no tide in the Clyde"   it can hold a nasty sting in its tail. The collection of wind turbines on the distant Ayrshire hill hints that this can be a windy place. The south going ebb tide passes either side of Bute...

...and where it meets, it kicks up a significant tide race. The effect is amplified if there is any south in the wind or if the Firth is swollen by rain or melt water.

 As we rounded Garroch Head we caught our first sight of Little Cumbrae to the east.

From Dunagoil Bay, where we had taken our last break, to our next landfall on the Ayrshire coast is 12 km. We embarked on our crossing of the Firth of Clyde and slowly the top of Ailsa Craig came in to view. It was 52km away, beyond the east end of Holy Island.

As we left Garroch Head far behind us, a lovely light developed as the sinking sun illuminated its green slopes flecked with yellow gorse.

Dun paddling at Dunagoil.

 As we approached the Island of Bute...

 ...the wind dropped away to nothing and...

... my injured shoulder was really feeling the strain by the time we arrived under the imposing...

 ...site of the Iron Age hill fort of Dunagoil.

The lovely sands of Dunagoil Bay made a lovely location for a second luncheon. My shoulder was knackered and we still had 22 km to go so it was great to have a break.

Some fishy goings on in the Sound of Bute.

As we paddled down the Sound of Bute we were aware that strange swell lines were suddenly appearing. They came from different directions and were not what we expected in the relatively sheltered waters of the Firth of Clyde. Nor were there any  large ships visible that might have created such waves in their wake.

Then the peace was shattered by the appearance and sound of a SeaKing helicopter from HMS Gannet. It dotted about dropping its sonar into the sea and was joined by SD Omagh, the naval support vessel which we had seen berthed in Tarbert the previous evening. It was now clear that the swell was the wake of a submarine(s) and that the helicopter was hunting it.

The whole area is identified as a submarine training area but usually the Coastguard  broadcast MSI VHF SubFacts warning of such operations but we did not hear them. Whatever, they do not like to publicise these exercises too much. SD Omagh was not transmitting any AIS information about her whereabouts. For a long while the SeaKing helicopter hovered directly over SD Omagh then they both broke off and left us in peace.

 No sooner had they gone than  common dolphins (above) and porpoises began to appear again.

Please excuse the quality of these photos. They were taken with a standard lens and cropped to give a telephoto effect. Behind Phil you can see a series of great...

 ...splashes...

...caused by dolphins leaping out of the water as if in celebration of the submarine exercise finishing. Thank goodness peace was restored.

All quiet on the Sound of Bute.

As we approached the south end of Inchmarnock, we knew we were entering our home waters again when we caught our first sight of the Galloway Hills rising above the low plains of Ayrshire. To the left of Phil a long line of mountains leads to the Merrick (843m) some 85 km to the SE. Just to its left, the smaller summit is Mullwharchar 692m.

The reefs off Inchmarnock could be seen deep below our keels as we swung round the south end of the island and...

 ...caught sight of our next destination the Isle of Bute.

 As we left Inchmarnock a gentle breeze got up and we wasted no time in hoisting our sails...

...as we set off on the 8 km crossing to Dunagoil Bay on Bute. Little did we know that our peace would soon be disturbed....