Evolution of a Clyde sunset.

As we packed our gear away the sunset just kept getting better and...

 ...

...

 ...

 ...

 ...

..

...

...

...

...better.

The history of sea kayaking at sunset.

It had been a marvellous day on the water and I thought it was nearly over. We were heading back to our launch site at Largs when I noticed someone paddling fast in our direction from Fairlie. It turned out to be a long time friend Duncan Winning.

 Duncan is one of the worthies of the Scottish sea kayaking scene. It was Duncan who in 1965 made the drawings of the Inuit kayak that Ken Taylor brought back from  Illorsuit, Greenland. These drawings formed the basis of the Valley Anas Acuta and influenced the subsequent design of many British style sea kayaks.

 We chatted long about the history of sea kayaking as the sun went down...

 ...over the Firth of Clyde.

All too soon it was time to part our ways and Duncan returned to Fairlie as I continued to Largs.

It was not so much elbow grease that was required... more a dose of rollock grease.

We regrouped for third luncheon in the shelter of the Eileans in the middle of Millport Bay. We were joined by Matt from the east coast. He had spent the day on a solo exploration of Wee Cumbrae and its three lighthouses.

 As we enjoyed a convivial chat, our attention was drawn to the loud creak of oars. It was the Cumbrae coastal rowing club out in their beautiful St Ayles skiff "Cumbrae"

As they creaked off round the Eileans it occurred to me that it was not so much elbow grease that was required... more a dose of rollock grease.

 We set off again from the Eileans round...

 ...Farland Point at the south end of Great Cumbrae and entered...

 ...the Hunterston Channel where we passed the 292m bulk carrier Genco London. She was offloading a cargo of coal and making almost as much noise as the skiffie "Cumbrae's" creacky rowlocks.. When empty, she was due to travel to Narvick to load a cargo of Swedish iron ore.

Andrew stopped to look back and this...

 was what he saw. The sun was setting over the Little and Great Cumbraes and the mountains of Arran beyond.

A marvellous winter crossing in the Firth of Clyde.

We set off from the south end of Bute with the towering mountains of Arran rising through the sea mist beyond.

Amazingly the ebb was still running despite being 2 hours after "slack" at low water. Run off from heavy rainfall in the extensive mountainous catchment area of the Firth of Clyde can overcome the flood tide.

A little breeze got up and...

...Phil and I quickly hoisted the sails.

It was a beautiful day to be on the water so late in the year. We slipped into the Tan which separates the Great and the Little Cumbraes then...

...entered the confines of Millport Bay. It was time for third luncheon.

We left the light of Rubh' an Eun to the birds.

After a splendid second luncheon in the sun we left the confines of Glencallum Bay towards...

... the lighthouse at the north entrance of the bay. As we left Glencallum we enjoyed a fine view...

 ...over the firth of Clyde channel towards Little Cumbrae and its three generations of lighthouses.

As we rounded Rubh' an Eun the birds gathered round the lighthouse then we made our way up the SE coast of Bute.

Beyond the dark rocks of Hawk's Nib and Creag a' Mhara, Bute gave way to the green of arable fields and it was time to...

...turn east back across the Firth of Clyde channel.

Some thoughts on "No tide in the Clyde" and ferry angles.

To port the mountains of Arran continued to break free from the...

 From the south end of Little Cumbrae we set off towards Bute and soon the...

 ...lighthouse was receding in our wakes.

Some say there is "no tide in the Clyde" but the ebb was in full flow and we had to set a high ferry angle on our crossing to the Island of Bute.

It was interesting to compare strategies for the ferry angle and our little flotilla were soon spread widely across the channel.

...last of the fog.There was not a breath of wind and the water was like a millpond but it was moving quickly. It is not always like this. In January 2007...

...Tony and I set off for Bute in a very similar ebb tide but a southerly wind kicked up a very uncomfortable wind against tide sea, especially as we approached Bute.

On this occasion, as we approached the lighthouse of Rubh' an Eun at the mouth of Glencallum Bay, the tide speeded up as we entered the approach to the Garroch Head tide race but our tactic of keeping a high ferry angle paid off and we slipped into the bay with little difficulty. 

As we enjoyed a second luncheon in Glencallum Bay on Bute, we reflected on the various strategies on the crossing. initially  an eddy carried us north up the west coast of Wee Cumbrae but as soon as we set off for Bute we were carried downstream to the SW by the main ebb tide. It was a a little while before we got a grip of the ferry angle but we managed to avoid the strongest current which develops to the south of Glencallum Bay. It was a neap tide and the last hour of the ebb and normally you would not expect much tide but the preceding 10 days had been particularly wet and the Firth of Clyde has a catchment area that extends deep into the mountains. Indeed the ebb was still flowing briskly some two hours into the predicted flood! As an aside, if this had been a spring ebb tide I would have used the eddy round the south end of the Little Cumbrae to carry me right up to the west point of Little Cumbrae before setting off for Bute.

It seemed churlish not to pause and savour this magical moment.

 As we set off from the castle on the east coast of Little Cumbrae, the...

 ...sea fog to the south began to lift and by the time we...

 ...arrived off Gull Point...

 ...the soaring rocky ridges of the Arran mountains emerged into a clear blue sky. It seemed churlish not to pause and savour this magical moment.