Silly Sammy seal snapped in Sound of Arisaig sunset splendor at Samalaman.

 We were just about to land at Samalaman when the sky seemed to turn to fire.

Ian, Jennifer and I decided to stay on the water to catch the end of the day. I noticed a bobbing head of a seal in the Sun's reflection...

 ...so I started paddling backwards. Silly Sammy seal started following me, thinking I couldn't see him!

Gradually the Sun sank below...

 ...the horizon but then the...

 ...sky to the east took on a wondrous pink glow.

 We really did not...

 ...know what way to...

 ...look as the palate of colour...

 ...changed with every...

 ...dying minute of the day.

 Ian's face says it all...

 ...sometimes we drifted alone, sometimes...

 ...we rafted up to better share the drama of the sunset.

A final flash of crimson on the underside of a low cloud signalled that it was time to end our day in the Sound of Arisaig.

A Samalaman sunset.

 To the east the slopes of Rois-Bheinn took on a lovely reddish tinge...

...as the Sun sank behind distant Ardnamurchan Point to the far SW.

 Our kayaks glided effortlessly across the surface of...

 ...the golden Sea of...

 ...the Hebrides.

 All too soon we turned our backs to Muck and the Small Isles...

 ...as we approached Samalaman Island and our destination.

 Rum and Eigg floated on a glassy sea as...

...we slipped into the shade of Samalaman Island. Our day was over...or was it?

Sunset behind the iconic outlines of Eigg and Rum.

 As we proceeded...

 ...across the Sound of...

 ...Arisaig we were rewarded by...

...wonderful changing light as the iconic outlines of ...

...Eigg and Rum darkened against a sky that slowly turned from gold to red.

Friends reunited in the Sound of Arisaig.

As we were relaxing in the sun on Camas Ghaoidiel, Phil suddenly leapt to his feet. He rushed down to his kayak and searched each hatch. Unfortunately there was no  sign of his dry bag with his car keys and wallet. He last remembered having it on the beach at our last stop, 5 km away! Phil sped off at high speed...

 ...while we did a little light exploration and lying in the sun. After a surprisingly short time, Phil's voice crackled over the VHF, he had recovered his dry bag and was now nearly back at our beach.

 We set out to meet him and there...

 ...on the horizon, Phil appeared, paddling like the Duracell Bunny.

 He was absolutely knackered but a couple of minutes later...

 ...and he was paddling once more.

All together again, our little group...

 ...set off across the Sound of Arisaig as...

...the Sun steadily dipped towards the horizon.

The buzzard of Camas Drollaman on a hot February day..

We set off from Camas Eilean a'Ghail with the dark rocks of Eilean an t-Snidhe and the dreamy blue hills of Moidart on the southern horizon.

As we slowly paddled east...

...the view was gradually dominated by...

 ...the steep blue slopes of Rois-Bheinn (878m) which soared up into an even bluer sky.

As we passed by Camas Drollaman this fine buzzard soared down from the hillside high above and kept a watch full eye on us.

The beaches further east were composed of small cobbles and Jennifer landed on one to take some photos of a pile of flotsam for a photo documentary piece she is working on.

 We paddled steadily east...

 ...but we were not in too much of a hurry.

At twenty past two, Ian's watch was still showing 14 degrees C. It had fallen from 16 degrees in the heat of this unusual February day.

 We explored every nook and cranny of the coast and...

...at last the delightful chain of the Borrowdale Islands came in view.

Of vitrified hill forts and vitrified kayakers..

 After a very pleasant luncheon we paddled east...

 ...along the north shore of the sound of Arisaig. The white shell sand had given way to dark rocks and reefs.

 As we approached Eilean a' Ghaill, a steep sided  island just offshore, we could see...

 ..the remains of a vitrified Iron Age hill fort perched on its summit.

 Then we came across another white sand beach...

 Whoa!!! Time for second luncheon.

The kayaks were soon drawn up on the dazzling white shell sand and...

 ...second luncheon was served in the sun.  Never mind vitrified forts, Phil and Mike (who had not swum at our previous stop)  were nearly vitrified in their dry suits. Phil formed a particular attachment to this beach, as we will see later.....