A Viking boat burial with a view.

Leaving Fascadale, the SE wind had dropped considerably and we enjoyed the view to the Small Isles Rum and Eigg.

The coastline here was lower than further west but...
 

 ...inland rose to the rocky summit ridge of Ben Hiant, 528m.

 As we journeyed east the distinctive profiles of Rum and Eigg slowly slid past each other.

 A continuing feature of the north Adnamurchan coast is the sparsity of landing places.

Mike's skeg had jammed so we were pleased to find a small sheltered cove called Port an Eilean Mhoir...

 ...at the head of Swordle Bay. Whenever we find a landing place like this we know that it has been used by generations of travellers before us. It is always interesting to discover what archaeology lies in the immediate vicinity. In this case, there is a Viking boat burial, dating from the 9th or 10th century, just behind the beach.

We soon got Mike's skeg functioning again and...

...had time to appreciate the beauty of our surroundings.

 I loved the way the clouds seemed to radiate from the volcanic rocks of Eilean Mhoir.

We sat for a while...

 ...enjoying the view over to...

 Rum, Eigg and...

...Skye. It is humbling to think of the generations of mariners who have enjoyed this view, both before and after the Swordle Bay Viking last sailed these waters.

Deadly waves north of Fascadale.

As we paddled east along the north Ardnamurchan coast the view to the north was dominated by the islands of the Inner Hebrides, low lying Muck, mountainous Rum, Eigg with its distinctive Sgurr and in the distance the mountains of Skye.

It was not a view that held our attention for long though as the rocky ramparts of Ardnamurchan are...

 ...protected by underwater ledges and skerries which...

 ...throw up sudden and unexpected waves called boomers.

 So dangerous is this coast for small boats that we did not see a single lobster pot until we eventually...

 ...rounded a wild headland and saw the houses at the head of Fascadale Bay.

In July 2009 a tragic accident occurred in which the FV Aquila from Cumbria capsized about 4km north of this spot. She was trawling for scallops near the Bo Faskadale reef when her trawl snagged and she was capsized by huge following seas. Sadly, only one of her four crew survived. In a flood tide and westerly swell locals know that large standing waves often form in the area of the reef. The charts and sailing directions did not mention these but UKHO have since amended both to include a warning.

 It was a relief to get some shelter from the swell and waves and...

...we carried our luncheon things up the steep storm beach of cobbles to a grassy bank below the old boathouse.

A great stone ship on north Ardnamurchan.

As we paddled east along the great finger of the Ardnamurchan peninsula we heard whistles and cries being carried over the water by the SE wind. High on the shoulder of Meal Clach an Daraich we spotted a shepherd. His dog was rounding up two groups of sheep. The first can be seen below and to the right of the shepherd. The other group and the dog are down among the giant boulders by the shore. That dog was working for his supper.

 Ahead lay the clean blade of rock...

 ...at Rubha Carrach. It looked like the...

 ...bow of a great stone ship.

 The big swell meant that...

 ...we were unable to approach...

 ...this iconic landmark of the north Ardnamurchan coast...

...too closely. Rubha Carrach is on the rim of a giant volcanic caldera that can be easily seen in this Google maps satellite view.

Appearances can be deceptive on Ardnamurchan.

We paddled out of Sanna Bay into the exposed waters north of Ardnamurchan. The lighthouse could be seen behind us but we were...

 ...heading east to Ardtoe through...

 ...the Sanna skerries.

Rounding Sanna Point we were rewarded with a...

...wonderful view of the Ardnamurchan peninsula stretching away to the distant hills of Moidart.

We turned south after Rubha an Duin Bhain as we hoped to land on its delightful sandy beach but at mid tide it is a garden of barely submerged rocks washed by swells. Sadly, we  had to leave without landing on its fair sands.

Bitter sweet memories at Portuairk.

The February sun was still low in the sky as Ian, Mike and myself  left a car at Ardtoe Bay at the east end of the Ardnamurchan Peninsula. You can follow Ian's account of the trip over on his excellent blog here.

The local crofter has fenced off one of his fields as a car park and there is an honesty box for the very reasonable 50p charge.

We then drove to Portuairk at the west end of the Ardnamurchan Peninsula which is the most westerly point on the mainland of Britain. . The shuttle from Glenuig to Ardtoe and on to Portuairk is only 45 minutes but it took 2 hours to set up due to the twisting single track roads.

I arrived at Portuairk with mixed emotions. I was last here on 15/6/2009, after we landed after the trip to Coll and Tiree during which I had an accident on a sand dune and ruptured the ligaments of my right knee. Also on that trip was our good friend Jim Broadfoot. He had celebrated his 50th birthday on Coll with us but sadly and unexpectedly he died of a heart attack less than a year later.

 We were soon in the Portuairk channel (which drains very quickly) and making...

 ...our way down through the rocks of the enclosed channel.

 Mike launched his sail and...

 ...soon we had just a final gap in the rocks to squeeze through before...

 ...we arrived on the open sea with a backdrop of low lying Muck with the mountains of Rum behind.

Soon Portuairk was slipping astern in our wakes but a gusty F3-4 SE wind got up and had too much east in it for Mike to sail to the east.

The offshore wind was holding the surf up as it broke steeply on the reefs. The spray was blowing over the backs of the waves. We realised there was not going to be much chance of landing further on...

...in this trip so we sneaked through a gap in the skerries into the sheltered water inshore and

 ...landed on Sanna Bay.

 It was a truly glorious day...

 ...and we stretched our legs for the last time in preparation for the long paddle to come.

Ian produced a dram of golden steadying liquid (Jura Superstition) and we toasted the voyage yet to come and great memories of our friend Jim.