Making the most of short winter days.

The Firth of Clyde channel is a busy shipping lane, in the past we have met RN nuclear submarines, RN frigates, RFA supply ships, tugs, tankers and bulk carriers here. It was a relief to land safely on Port Leithne on Bute for first luncheon.

One by one we came into land. In the distance the bulk carrier Grace Future continued down the Firth of Clyde and the Polish tug Cyklops made her way up towing a barge to Greenock.

Some landed more elegantly...

...than others. Once ashore, we washed our victuals down with a rather fine Isle of Arran single malt Scotch whisky. This particular bottle was from a sherry cask, no 510, which was distilled on 7/4/1997 and bottled on 16/6/2008 (bottle 282/295). It was only 1030am and some might consider this a bit too early to enjoy first luncheon, not to mention a fine malt like this.

However, I cannot think of a better time nor place to enjoy a whisky, which was distilled under the very mountains we were headed for.

Too early? Not a bit of it, you need to make the most of short winter days. We came here last year with our friend Jim. He had brought some of his favourite malt, Bruichladdich Rocks, which he shared with us. Sadly Jim died earlier this year so we raised our glasses to Jim and continued on our way, thankful of shared, short winter days past but making the most of this one.

Clyde ore, prawns and peninsulas.

We set off across the Hunterston Channel for the Little Cumbrae. To our right a huge 225m bulk carrier, Grace Future, had just pulled away from the Hunterston ore terminal. We crossed well in front of it and soon came across the Campbeltown creel boat...

...Silver Spray III, lifting her pots on the far side of the channel.

We paddled past the southern tip of Little Cumbrae, we were bound for  Port Leithne which sits under St Blane's Hill on Bute.

To the west of Little Cumbrae we crossed the Firth of Clyde channel and came across another Cambeltown creel boat Five Sisters. The Firth of Clyde used to be full of fish but there are none left. The only thing these boats catch are prawns which have increased in numbers since the fall of  the fish populations.

We now caught sight of our landfall on Arran, Sannox, at the mouth of the great glen of the same name.

To the NW of Sannox, the Cock of Arran stretched away towards Kintyre, which is a somewhat less than priapic peninsula.

Looking back across the Firth of Clyde channel, we could still see...

...Five Sisters lifting her pots and Grace Future was by now well down the Hunterston Channel. She was floating high after having offloaded her cargo of ore.

There be dragons at the end of rainbows in the Clyde!

We arrived at Ardrossan ferry terminal at dawn. The low sun was just lighting the mountain tops of Arran. We left two cars here and the four of us drove north to Portencross in my car with the sea kayaks on the trailer.

Heavy clouds and rain were blotting out the landscape but just as we were about to be enveloped in wet greyness, a rainbow appeared.

The new type 45 frigate HMS Dragon appeared out of the end of the rainbow. She had arrived off Arran on her first day of sea trials.

 Our destination was the Isle of Arran, but it was rapidly being blotted from sight.

It was a really tricky launch over slippery rocks from the car park at Portencross. I was very grateful for the help Tony and Phil gave me in carrying my kayak and launching it.

We were soon on the water and Jennifer led the way towards Gull Point on the Wee Cumbrae and our first stop at distant Garroch Head on Bute.

Ailsa Craig from Lendalfoot, Ayrshire.

A 32km day trip round Ailsa Craig in the outer Firth of Clyde.

Tidal streams between the Ayrshire coast and Ailsa Craig are generally weak, towards the Craig they are about 0.5knots at springs. The NE going flood starts about  +0535 HW Greenock (-0530 HW Dover) and the SE going ebb starts about -0050 HW Greenock (+0030 HW Dover).

Remember to take a good broad brimmed hat.

A little rockhopping in the Firth of Clyde.

3,000 sea kayaks behind Ailsa Craig, but all was quiet.

Hats are de rigeur on the far side of Ailsa Craig.

A fog horn and a siren on Ailsa Craig.

Photo album map.

A fog horn and a siren on Ailsa Craig.

All too soon we had come right round Ailsa Craig to the silent south foghorn. It last bellowed into the mists of the Firth of Clyde in 1966.

Photo Phil Toman.
It was now time to say farewell to this remarkable island and its teeming birds.

Photo Phil Toman.
As we left the island in our wakes, we could not help but be grateful that such a natural wonder is so close to home. The west coast of Scotland has such an incredible variety of coast line that it is truly a World class sea kayaking destination!

The Ayrshire coast gradually got closer but we knew that Ailsa Craig's  siren call would soon call us back again.

Hats are de rigeur on the far side of Ailsa Craig.

Even although we have paddled round Ailsa Craig many times, we are always stunned by the teeming gannet colony on the SW cliffs. We could hardly hear ourselves shout over the constant croaking of the gannets. There are about 35,000 pairs nesting on the island in the spring and summer.

Close under the cliffs, the smell of the guano was quite overpowering...

...and our hats were absolutely essential as the sky was full of the largest sea birds in the North Atlantic. A steady, white, and smelly rain was falling!

3,000 sea kayaks behind Ailsa Craig, but all was quiet.

Photo Phil Toman
Setting off anticlockwise round Ailsa Craig, we passed a yacht and a motor cruiser.

Photo Phil Toman
I don't know who was more surprised, them, seeing our puny little sea kayaks (with no engines) so far offshore, or us, by the size of their bottle sized wine glasses! Mind you the wine would be the least of their expense. This Fairline Targa 44 comes with a choice of twin 370hp or twin 435hp diesels and would cost about half a million quid, for the basic version. Yikes, that's at least 3,000 sea kayaks!

We approached the north fog horn...

 ..and were dwarfed beneath its long silent and now rusting trumpet.

The dark mouth of Swine Cave was devoid of  pigs and no grunting or squealing echoed from within.

 We continued under the dark, sunless and overhanging rocks of the Eagle's Seat...

...until we emerged into the sun and our eyes, ears and noses were about to experience one of Nature's wonders!