The skulls of Glengarrisdale, Jura.

We made our way up to the former shepherd's house which is now a well maintained MBA bothy. The last shepherd left the glen in about 1947.

 On this occasion the bothy was empty but we soon...

...had it feeling homely by lighting the fire with a bag of charcoal and the last few logs which we had brought.

 We also lit the macabre skull candle holder on the mantle-shelf above the fire.

 It was most satisfying to be able to cook a hot dinner in the shelter of the bothy, wash it down with a mug of hot tea then write up our story in the Bothy log book.

 After we had warmed up and cleaned the bothy, we went out for a little explore. David was most taken with this whale jaw bone...

...but not even his veterinary skills could resuscitate any of the patients in this box. Glengarrisdale has a long history of bones and skulls. It used to be called...

...Maclean's Skull Bay. A gruesome skull and femurs sat on a rock at the edge of the bay for many years. They disappeared in the 1970's. The skull had a "sword" cut in it and allegedly belonged to one of the defeated Macleans from a battle in 1647. Modern legend says it was situated in a cave at the east of the bay. However, in John Mercer's book "Hebridean Islands, Colonsay, Gigha, Jura" published in 1974, the above photo shows the sad relics on a rock at the west end of the bay. Their current whereabouts are unknown.

Some very unpleasant things happened in Scotland's history.

Glengarrisdale was a Maclean stronghold in the mid 17th century. Their stone built fortification, Aros Castle, no longer remains but its site is marked by an isolated stand of trees not far inland from the bothy. It was here that the Macleans were defeated by their nemesis the clan Campbell.

 Time had now marched on and we retraced our footsteps to the bothy to collect our things...

 ...and make our way back down to the waiting boats. In the distance the flood tide was still pouring out of the Corryvreckan and I rather hoped that Maurice and Sam did not notice the large tourist RIBS that were buzzing about and regularly disappearing in breaking standing waves.

I think Maurice must have seen the white water in the Corryvreckan because as we carried the boats the short distance to the water* he asked "What do you think it will be like?"

"What will what be like?" I replied, ever so innocently.

"The Corryvreckan." said Maurice in a very hushed tone.

"Oh, that....it will be flat as a millpond." I said, confidently. I could see Maurice was far from convinced.

*note the impeccable timing!

Read Ian's account here.

Waiting for the Corryvreckan tide at Glengarrisdale.

As we were finishing second breakfast, the chilly silence of Corpach Bay was broken by the rumble of engines. The SC Nordic, a Danish pallet carrier of 4,786 gross tonnage, was making her way NE between Colonsay and Jura towards the Sound of Mull. She was enroute from Greenock on the Clyde to Skogn in Trondheimsfjorden, Norway. Soon she was out of earshot and silence again fell over the bay of the dead (Corpach Bay).

 Once on the water again, too much north in the wind kept our sails furled but steady progress...

...saw the brooding bulk of Scarba increasingly dominate our view ahead.

Scarba marks the northern side of the fearsome Gulf of Corryvreckan and its steep slopes plunging into the rushing tides add to the intimidating nature of the place...but more of that later.

We were able to launch the sails again as the onshore breeze backed to a tight reach. Above the rough hills our eyes were drawn to...

 ...the magnificent sight of a pair of...

 ...white tailed sea eagles soaring on the same onshore wind (which we were paddle sailing in) creating an up draught above the slope.

This one either had a white tag on its wing or was missing some feathers. Maurice was amazed. He had gone from never having seen a sea eagle to seeing 4 within 24 hours. It did occur to me that this might be the same pair that we had seen the previous day, some 25km to the west on the east coast of Colonsay. However, they are lazy big birds and once they have a mate and territory they tend not to stray far. On average a sea eagle's territory is about 8km in diameter.

 There are very few places to land on this rough coast pathless which is the domain...

...of these nimble goats.

Neither Maurice nor Sam had been through the Corryvreckan before and they fell behind in some deep discussion about what to expect.

Neither of them seemed convinced....

 ...by my reassurances that it would be flat as a pancake, especially as we drew ever nearer to the Gulf. Perhaps this was because the previous evening, Ian and I had given a dramatic account of our last trip through the Corryvreckan.  This had involved breaking standing waves and moving backwards. This was despite paddling forward at full pelt, the tide had turned against us and threatened to carry us back the way we had just come.

On this trip, the west going spring flood was still in full flow at 8 knots and as we wanted to traverse the Gulf to the east it was time for a sharp...

 ...exit to the right, where we entered Glengarrisdale Bay where the eponymous...

 ...red roofed bothy lay at the back of the bay. It would make an ideal shelter from the cold wind for our three hour wait for the tide to turn.

 So we landed on the sands of the bay and...

 ...warmed up by carrying the boats well up the beach...

...so that we would be sure the tide would not carry the boats away during an extended Glengarrisdale luncheon.

A cold second breakfast at dead end beach, Jura

We woke on the morning of our fourth day of our trip round Jura and Colonsay on the machair of Shian Bay on the west coast of Jura. A cold NW wind was blowing  and it felt like spring had retreated to allow the return of winter.

As we had no intention of paddling through the Gulf of Corryvreckan against the west going flood tide, in wind over tide conditions, we wanted to arrive at the west end of the Corryvreckan at slack water before the east going ebb started. That was not until late afternoon and as the Corryvreckan was only 24km away, we had some time to kill. Unfortunately there was not a scrap of shelter on Shian Bay so, on the one morning we could have enjoyed a relaxed start, we had to get moving to keep warm.

We donned full winter attire and...

...Sam even had his pogies on. What a contrastv to the previous few days.

As we left Shian Bay the wind had just a little too much north in it to get our sails up which...

...pleased sail-less Sam. Then, as soon as we rounded the first headland (backed by huge raised beaches of cobbles),...

...the wind freed enough to get our sails up and we were soon making excellent progress up the...

...remote NW coast of Jura, which is always a delight.

In addition to the raised cobble beaches there are several levels of raised cliffs, which feature dry arches and caves and are interspersed by sand dunes. They represent the varying sea levels after the last Ice Age. The west coast of Jura is one of the geological wonders of the World but it gets hardly any visitors.

Our first stop was at Corpach Bay, some 7km further on from Shian Bay. Corpach Bay is backed by caves which were once used to store corpses from Argyll on their final journey to Iona for burial. Iona is 45km away on the horizon at the extreme left of this photo. Often sea conditions were too rough to complete the journey, especially in winter. One can imagine the smell in the caves come springtime when the mourners returned.

We needed some shelter for second breakfast and, not fancying the caves, we spotted a dry sea stack at the back of the beach.

This provided excellent shelter for a most convivial second breakfast. We were all in excellent spirits as we were in no hurry and had no dead to bury.

Read Ian's account here.

Baked Bramley apples at a Shian Bay Sunset.

As the sun in the west sank behind distant Colonsay...

 ...it illuminated the moors of Jura to the east with a warm red light. A full moon rose into a cold blue sky above the misty hills beyond the moor.

We gradually gathered round the fire with our sports recovery drinks. Camp raconteur David kept Sam amused with tales such as how he had rolled more cars than kayaks!

 We were all set for a most convivial evening but...

 ...Ian and I made our temporary excuses as we...

 ...photographed the last of the sunset in the hope of capturing a green flash.

As we made our way back up to the camp, a cold mist began to roll down towards us from the Jura  mountains.

Gradually it spread across the near full moon, which was now high in the sky. Ian and I delighted in telling Maurice that as the full moon meant the tides were at springs, it would be an exciting trip through the great Gulf of Corryvreckan in the morning. As Morris had not been through the Corryvreckan before, his face visibly paled in the moonlight, as we continued to wind him up with tales of giant waves and whirlpools....

 Soon the cold mist wrapped around us making everything wet with condensation.

We were glad of the warmth of the fire. David and Sam had to sit ever closer on their bench seat as Ian and I continued to cut the ends off to keep the fire going to ensure...

...cooking of Ian's new signature dish...baked Bramley apples with clotted cream and sprinkled with cinnamon. 

Life really does not get much better than this. For us it is the essence of sea kayaking. Using a small boat to voyage and navigate yourself to remote, special places gives a real sense of adventure and achievement. Alternatively, we could have signed up for Saga Holidays "thrilling tour and cruise adventure for the over 50's" to Machu Picchu and the Galapagos Islands for £5,000 each (well Sam might not have been eligible as he is in his twenties). :o)

Read Ian's account here.

Hebridean boules on the machair of Jura.

We got our camp set up on Shian Bay on the west coast of Jura in plenty of time before darkness. In the distance, you can just see Oronsay and Colonsay where we had camped the previous night. We swam in the sea (cold) or the river (warm) behind the machair to freshen up after the long crossing.

We had plenty of time to scour the beach for driftwood of which there was an abundance. There was a solitary fire ring on the huge expanse of machair backing the bay. We do not normally have fires on the machair but there was a pre-existing fire ring with some large logs and planks arranged as seating. As the damage had already been done (apparently it was built by a recent party organised by the estate owners) we decided, on this occasion, to use the local facilities.  We were careful not to move the stones in case the damage got larger.

 I used my exceedingly sharp Japanese folding saw to make a  woodpile from the logs and posts we had gathered on the beach. Some of the logs had been bored by some sort of marine worm and they smelled absolutely disgusting. Camp chores completed, it was now...

...recreation time! We gathered some fishing floats from the beach and started our game of Hebridean boules.

 As you see, we are quite good at it!

The sun setting slowly into the haze over Colonsay to the west finally brought the games to a close.

Read Ian's account here.