Kayak sailing, over the horizon.

After a pleasant break at Bracken Bay we were tempted to proceed to Dunure but it was time to return to Seafield as I did not want to stress my knee over acres of sand at low tide! As soon as we rounded the Heads my sail filled in the now light wind...


...but Tony fancied a shot, so we swapped kayaks.


David soon whipped his sail up...


...and he and Tony...


...disappeared over the horizon, leaving me trailing in their wake! It is quite amazing how much extra ground is covered by the combination of paddling and sailing, even in a light wind.

Return to the Heads of Ayr!

Last Sunday was a bit of a milestone, it was the first time I had been back to Ayr since my knee operation four months ago! It was planned with some precision; either side of high tide to avoid a walk, parked on the double yellow lines (which are obscured by sand) at the top of the Seafield slipway. There was a bit of wind so it was an ideal time to resume testing the Flat Earth Kayak Sails, especially as I was not very fit!


The wind was gusting to the top of a 4 and I enjoyed several excellent downwind blasts, averaging 10km/hr and hitting 14.4km/hr.


As I enjoyed paddling and sailing this truly excellent kayak sail, the others got on with some rescue practice...


...till we decided to warm up by paddling to Bracken Bay just beyond...


...the Heads of Ayr.

My goodness it was good to be back to our regular stomping ground after such a painful lay off.

PS You will need to excuse the quality of the photos. I am a bit rusty so did not want to risk dropping the Canon 5D MkII over the side. I made do with the trusty 2mp Sony U60 camera.

A final blaze and the sun was gone.

North of Bracken Bay we enjoyed a bracing paddle in the dying minutes of the day.


Behind us the sun had set behind the Heads of Ayr.


As we came into the shelter of the headland, the conditions moderated.


A final blaze and the sun was gone.


We paddled on into the darkness of a mid winter's night.

Relief in Bracken Bay

After the excitement in leaving Dunure harbour, we found the sea further out had built up a little swell. The shallow rock shelves, that project from each of the headlands, caused some turbulence on our return north to Ayr.


It was with some relief that we landed at Bracken Bay. Soon our flasks were out with some warming soup. Although there was an orange glow in the sky from the setting sun...


...the wind was blowing straight across the Firth of Clyde...


...from the snow covered mountains of Arran. It was bitterly cold.

Nae man can tether Time nor Tide...

The bar in the Dunure Inn was indeed open...


...so we decided to see in the New Year with a glass or so of frothing blackcurrant juice, which is very good for you.


"My, that was awfie tasty for a health drink, I think I'll have another! "


As they say in Ayrshire, "Nae man can tether Time nor Tide" so we left the warmth of the inn in exchange for the cold, grey, dying hours of New Year's Day. From the comfort of the pub, the sea had looked pretty flat...


...but Yikes! The entrance to Dunure harbour is never easy. It was difficult to distinguish the steep, white flecked waves crowding the mouth from the steep, snow covered ridges of the distant mountains. We dug our paddles deep, thankful for the steadying effects of that wonderful blackcurrant juice.

An opportunity too good to miss, in Dunure.

We pressed on in a southerly direction until the great monolith of Ailsa Craig hove into sight.


A few ripples appeared on the water and out towards Ailsa Craig...


...the horizon began to look lumpy.


Time to seek shelter in Dunure harbour...


...where you can see swans and goodness gracious me, what's that? A pub open on New Year's day? Now there's an opportunity!

The pull of snow covered mountains

We proceeded south. Although there was a clear blue sky...


...we were in the deep shade of the cliffs that tumbled into the sea from a frozen landscape above.


We took a break on a frost covered shore. We hopped from one foot to the other to keep warm.


Soon some hot soup and an 18 year old Glenfiddich achieved what the sun had singularly failed to do.


At the time, I had this lovely P&H Cetus out on loan. I must say I appreciated its stability in the months leading up to my knee operation.


The air was very clear and the mountains of Arran were so appealing. In fact, their pull was so strong that Phil and I would go on to paddle there just three days later!