Skipness bombing range and the Tirpitz.

We made our way up from the beach at Skipness Point to the Old Chapel and its walled graveyard. Just to the east of the graveyard we came across this old concrete arrow.

It can be clearly seen in this view from Google Maps.

The arrow points straight down the Kilbrannan Sound and it formed part of the Skipness bombing range in WW2. RAF and Royal Navy Fleet Air Arm pilots based at nearby RAF Machrihanish practised dropping bombs and torpedoes here.

They were observed by a team of about 45 Wrens who recorded the bombing runs from a lookout post on the west side of Skipness Bay. In March 1944 the Skipness range was used to train squadrons for the attacks on the German battleship Tirpitz. After a series of partially successful raids using aircraft carrier based light aircraft, Tirpitz was eventually sunk by heavy RAF Lancaster bombers in Tromsø fjord on the 12th of November 1944. Afterwards, a RN Vice Admiral visited Skipness to congratulate the Wrens for their part in the effort to sink Tirpitz.

The horror of WW2 seemed very far away as lambs grazed the fresh spring grass growing round the old concrete arrow.

Ne'er cast a cloot till May be oot.

 After luncheon we proceeded down the delightful east coast of the Kintyre peninsula. We passed several beaches of ...

...light quartzite pebbles, backed by suitable camping spots but we were bound for further south.

After a little tidal assistance we were approaching slack water and a cold head wind picked up as the skies clouded over.

Although the temperature had dropped like a stone we were warmly attired in our dry suits and clooty thermals so we were able to enjoy the magnificent prospect down the Kilbrannan Sound, which separates Kintyre from the mountainous island of Arran.

 As we slipped through the reefs of Skipness Point...

 ...we passed these delightful turnstones, resplendent in summer breeding plumage despite the old adage ne'eer cast a cloot till May be oot!

 It was with some relief that we drew our kayaks onto the old red sandstone sands of Skipness Bay.

We decided to explore onshore but first we had to cross the green zone of death...slippery weed covered cobbles. Before my last knee operation I would have required assistance to cross this barrier. I was delighted to manage it on my own with apparently little more difficulty than Ian or Mike. If you ever need surgery on a limb, I commend you to follow your physiotherapist's instructions to the letter. "No gain without pain" is, I understand, the motto of this most excellent of professions!

You can follow Ian's account of our trip here....

Spring in Kintyre.

 From Ardlamont Point we paddled across the mouth of Loch Fyne in...

 ,,,glassy calm conditions.

The only thing that threatened our equilibrium was this fast speed boat which came weaving down the loch at high speed towards us. Ian hailed it three times on the VHF. There was no answer but to the helmsman's credit he dropped the boat off the plane and passed well clear of us.

 It was getting hotter as we approached Kintyre but we spotted the white shingle beach of...

...Croit Bagh. It was such a relief to hear the crunch of shingle on the keel and get my stiff and sore knees out for a stretch!

It was time for first luncheon which was washed down with some of Ian's 15 year old Dalwhinnie.

After lunch I went for a short walk. The bed rocks which plunged into the sea on either side of the beach were composed of...

 contorted schist. Above the rocks, the hillside was a beautiful...

 ...mixed deciduous woodland. Birch, alder oak and willow were all bursting into bud and the air was filled with the song of chiff-chaffs, willow warblers and a solitary cuckoo.

 Beneath the burgeoning canopy primroses had burst into flower. Althougth at first glance all primroses look the same there are actually two subtypes called pin and thrum. These are pin. All primroses have both male and female flower parts but they are arranged differently. In the pin form the stigma is at the mouth of the flower tube and in the thrum form the anther is at the mouth of the flower tube. As primroses are insect pollinated, this ensures that pin pollen tends to fertilize thrum flowers and vice versa.

Behind the beach this delightful stream emerged from the woodland behind the beach. I filled my flask but I always boil such water and never drink it directly.

Ardlamont no more....

 From Kildavanan Bay on Bute we set off across the mouth of the West Kyle of Bute towards...

 ...Ardlamont buoy. We were keen to see if Kylie the common dolphin still frequented the environs of the buoy.

Sadly Kylie was no longer there, we do hope no harm has befallen her and she returns, perhaps as before with a calf! We also found that the Ardlamont buoy has been moved 370m to the south of its position on pre May 2012 charts. It just shows make the most of life today. Even seemingly permanent things change and are no more.

 We now paddled towards Ardlamont Point at the SW end of the Cowall peninsula and the ...

 ...delightful little beach at Port nam Muileach where we stopped for...

...second breakfast and to catch up with our news.

The Monday morning Commute to Bute.

This blog has been pretty silent for a long time as my recovery from major surgical operations has been long and hard and I was unable to kayak for seven and a half months.. However, a weather window opened just when I was feeling able to try a camping trip again, my first in nearly a year! Ian, Mike and I exchanged some texts on Sunday and amazingly a trip took shape.

Mike and I commuted to Wemyss Bay rail and ferry station early on Monday morning and arranged to meet Ian in Bute where he was staying with his relatives. The Victorians sure knew how to build public buildings. The Wemyss Bay station served many of the Clyde steamers that took generations of Glaswegians "Doon the Water" for their holidays.

 That bygone age is recalled by the Norman Wilkinson posters which still adorn the station walls.

 Right on time the MV Bute arrived to carry us...

 ...over the Firth of Clyde to...

...the port of Rothesay on the island of Bute.

 A short drive to Kildavanan Bay on Bute's west coast saw us busy packing for our trip.

 It was the first camping trip of the year for each of us but amazingly we each had space to spare...

...darn, we will need to remember to bring more ballast the next time.

Although it was the end of April we decided on dry suits as the water temperature was only 7.5C and our trip would involve some crossings of the mouths of the West Kyle of Bute, Loch Fyne, the Kilbrannan Sound and the Sound of Bute.

Soon we were off on another adventure....

Assisted re-entry after a capsize with a Flat Earth kayak sail.

At the recent Flat Water Sea Kayak Symposium many of the people who did not try paddle sailing said they were put off because they feared the consequences of an accidental capsize and not being able to recover easily. Capsizes do not happen very frequently when paddle sailing and the paddle sailing groups had fewer capsizes than some of the other groups in the gusty F5 winds of the day.

I have practiced rolling with a sail (even managed some successfully!), solo re-entry and assisted re-entry and it really is not a big deal. However, practice scenarios are never that realistic so I recently took the opportunity to go for a short swim on the way back from a trip to...

...Ailsa Craig.

 A lovely little wind got up for a close reach back to the mainland, some 14km distant.

 Including circumnavigating the island, we covered a total of 33km, so we covered 19km on the way back without a break.

We made the crossing in line abreast so we could keep our eyes on each other, without turning round.

 This was the longest I had paddled since major knee surgery and my knee was absolutely killing me.

As we approached Bennane Head, about 1km off the mainland shore, the tide rate increased a little but the conditions were very benign. Certainly calm enough to get my Canon 5D mk3 out for this photo. After I put my camera away the pain in my knee was so bad I had to do something about it. I left the sail sheeted in to keep me moving, put the paddle down and put both hands behind the cockpit. I lifted my backside off the seat to stretch my sore leg. Unfortunately a little wavelet chose that moment (when I had a high centre of gravity) to come along and sploosh, I was in. I capsize frequently when surfing but this was the first time I had fallen in on a trip since 2005.

I was looking through the crystal clear green water before I could even think of where the paddle might be (at the end of a leash actually). So I bailed out. The water temperature was only 7.5C but I was wearing a drysuit with thermal protection under it. Nonetheless, it was not the ideal location to go swimming at Easter and so I started the recovery process with the kayak upside down, I let off the sail uphaul and tilted the mast back. This released the tension in the sheet (which I did not bother to uncleat). If you try to gather the boom directly to the mast, the sail fills with water like a great sea anchor. Instead I grabbed the top of the mast and started gathering the top of the leach towards it. Once I had the batten top and the mast tip in my hand I continued to gather the leach down to the boom. I then rolled the sail up and retained it with its elastic securing strap on deck.

I then rolled the kayak onto its side to prepare for a re-entry roll but I noticed the Mike (who had been paddle sailing in close formation) had dropped his sail and was preparing for an assisted re-entry. I righted the kayak then went to the stern and acted as a sea anchor so that my kayak blew away from me.

 This meant that Mike could easily approach my bow from downwind (I would not try this in surf).

Once contact was made, I swam and Mike twisted the kayaks into a T then I sank the stern to help Mike lift the bow and we both...

...twisted the kayak upside down to drain the cockpit. I have short legs and a custom bulkhead so there was not a lot of water inside anyway. If it had been rough I might not even have bothered emptying the kayak.

We now swam and twisted the kayaks parallel and bow to stern. I moved up to the cockpit and reached over with my stern hand and grabbed the nearest of Mike's cockpit lines.

I then swung my forward leg up inside the front of the cockpit and hooked my heel inside. I straightened my leg while pulling on Mike's deck line.

 This brought me out of the water and allowed me to grab Mike's deckline with the other hand.
.

I continued to roll over onto my front, lying on my back deck and keeping as low as possible while I got my other leg in.

 Now I rolled back the other way, sliding into the cockpit as I did so and...

 ...got my backside into the seat as soon as possible before...

  ...attaching the spraydeck,...

 ...grabbing the paddle and giving Mike a good push off.

 A couple of quick paddle strokes help reduce the apparent wind.

 Then I hoisted the sail and...

 ...paddle sailed the final kilometre back to...

...shore as if nothing had happened.

From falling in to getting the sail back up again was 3.5 minutes but most of that time I was in the kayak. The arrow points to the capsize. The SW going tide took us SW against the opposing SW wind.

So a capsize when paddle sailing is nothing to be bothered about. There are a number of lessons:

• It is very easy to to get separated while paddle sailing so stay close, preferably in a line abreast.
  
• Agree a working channel before the trip. We all had our VHFs on channels 16/72 dual watch and if necessary I could have called Mike or Phil on channel 72.
  
• Although it was a sunny spring day, the water in the Firth of Cl;yde is at its coldest (7.5) in April. I was wearing a Kokatat Expedition dry suit with Fourth Element Xerotherm insulation under it. I did not get cold but if I had, I carried pogies and a neoprene hood in my forward day hatch.
  
• I did not lose anything. My specs had a retaining loop and my hat had a chin strap. My 5D Mk3 camera remained bone dry in its deck mounted Ortlieb Aquacam large camera bag.
  
• When in the water, don't bother trying to release the sheet, it will loosen automatically when the uphaul is uncleated. I like cleats without a fairlead like this:
  

One tug and the line is released. If you have a cleat with a fairlead, you might find it recleats as the line runs out through the fairlead.

• When in the water don't attempt to fold the boom directly to the mast, it will catch a lot of heavy water, gather the leach gradually from the mast tip to the batten then the boom.
  
• Otherwise it is a standard T recovery apart from the person re-entering going to the stern of his/her boat and being proactive in manouvering his/her kayak. (At the recent symposium I observed a number of assisted re-entries and was surprised by the number of people who make a beeline for the "rescuer's" bow then hang on to it as if they were copulating with it. This is neither a pretty sight nor a particularly effective strategy for a rapid re-entry!)
  
• We have practiced re-entries, otherwise it may have taken longer.
  
• Anyone can do this. I am in my seventh decade and until a month ago was laid up for seven months after major knee and ankle surgery, so I am hardly an athlete.
  
• The bottom line is, do not let fear of a capsize put you off paddle sailing. With a couple of minor modifications, standard kayak re-entry methods work just fine.
  
• In practice, when paddle sailing (at least for those of you who keep a hold of your paddle), the extra speed generates a huge amount of lift from a low brace and so you are very unlikely to capsize!

Have fun :o)