Thursday, December 20, 2007

Galloway lanes and a bridge too far.


Last Sunday it was a bit windy, cold and rough for sea kayaking so Tony and continued our fitness regime by cycling along some Galloway lanes in the Galloway Hills near Loch Doon.


There was quite a lot of rough stuff to negotiate. We did 15km and 360m of ascent and descent and passed hills with wonderful names like Craigmawhannel and Coran of Portmark.


I first biked across this bridge in 1988. I told Tony it was all right then. Unfortunately it was not all right on Sunday. It had been carried away by a winter flood and its two ends were very much attached to the same piece of dry land with not a trace of even damp beneath its timbers. This was now only a bridge by name, its basic function was no more. In truth it had much in common with the Monty Python parrot.

There was another catch. In Galloway a lane is not some quiet country byway along which one can enjoy a gentle Sunday afternoon peddle. It is a deep, often slow moving, river which has cut down through the peat to the granite bed rock up to 12 feet below. We had an interesting dilemma. Should we risk falling into the icy water or turn back through miles of bog and hill? Fortunately the bridge had been built on the site of an ancient crossing and there were some slippy green stepping stones, which we gingerly balanced across. Tony's dog, Bob, was big enough to swim across...but Rory, the border terrier, was too small and so I carried him over.


Otherwise, Rory was well suited to the environment by being tough enough to keep up with us and being perfectly camouflaged. Unfortunately he saw no squirrels (grey).

Here he is near the end of the route on the shore of Loch Doon.

15/12/2007

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Last supper on Mull


Mike had caught more mackerel and we enjoyed our last meal together on Mull here on the beautiful sands of Traigh Gheal, on Erraid. David demonstrates the size of the one that got away from his hook.


For the last time we carried the boats up Fidden beach. This was almost the first time that we had to carry boats from the low water mark. Up until now our daily schedule had been dictated by the tides and we tried to launch and land round high water. However, a new force was gradually reentering our lives, which was even greater than the force of the tide. Some know it as the "daily grind" and for us it was embodied by the Calmac ferry timetable...


The MV Isle of Mull docked punctually at Craignure and our expedition to Mull was all but over.

21/07/2007

PS
I have now been posting about our Mull trip since 20/7/2007. I hope you have enjoyed this virtual paddle with us and that, if you are able, you will one day paddle on these amazing waters yourself. :o)

Mysterious nocturnal "goings on" on Lady Isle.


The recent weekend weather in the West of Scotland has not been particularly conducive to sea kayaking. However, this week has been blessed with a high pressure system resulting in light winds, clear skies and hard frosts. Suffering withdrawal symptoms on one of the shortest days of the year, David, Gavin, Harvey, Tony and myself convened at the Ballast Bank in Troon on the Firth of Clyde. Our destination was Lady Isle which is only 4km away to the south west. Rumours were circulating of mysterious sounds, which locals had heard drifting over the bay from the direction of the island on still nights! We were set to investigate and report back to you, the reader, our findings.

How, may you ask, did we get caught out by darkness on such a short trip? Well we saw no daylight whatsoever. We set off at 8pm which was some four and a half hours after sunset! The temperature then was a reasonable -1.5C but when we returned at 10:30pm it had dropped to -5C.


Navigation was no problem due to the regular white flash (every two seconds) of the lighthouse which is situated in the middle of the island. This was built in 1903 in place of an unlit stone built tower. There is a smaller stone beacon nearby, which was built in 1776 at the same time as the stone tower. The Ayrshire ports were hazardous for sailing ships to enter in strong SW to NW winds. In these conditions ships could find safe anchorage in the lee of Lady Isle by lining up the two stone towers.

The night was clear with a near threequarter waxing gibbous moon. Mars, Orion, the Plough and Cassiopeia were prominent overhead but apart from the flash of the light, the island itself was just an indistinct shadow. As we approached we became aware of a curious bellowing and groaning coming from the island. The source of the mysterious sound was soon discovered. This is the mating season for grey seals and it proved to be in full swing. In the darkness we could see little of the actual events but the sounds were quite self explanatory. After a particularly prolonged roaring between two bulls, the defeated seal made off into the sea with a great splash. To Harvey's great concern he swam straight for us. To the recently defeated bull we might appear as slim and attractive newcomers that might succumb to his needs and desires (all 800lbs of them). We behaved as unseal like and as unfemale like as we could. Neither did we wish to rekindle his fighting spirit by giving more than a passing glance at the shadowy figures of the harem of females waiting for the master.

Last night we fortunately returned to shore as mere observers of, rather than as participants in, the ancient rituals which have been acted for countless generations under the winter moon on Lady Isle. Kayako intacto as they say.

18/1/2007


This photo shows Troon South Beach on 20/10/02. Last night we launched from the distant point. You can just see the lighthouse on Lady Isle at the left of the photo. There is a yacht to its left.

Monday, December 17, 2007

The Moa of Mull


Unlike the moai of Rapa Nui, which all turn their backs to the sea, the great moa of Mull faces resolutely towards the west and the open sea. This mimetolith can be found on the pink granite rocks on the coast of Eilean Dubh which lies to the west of Erraid.

21/07/2007

Sunday, December 16, 2007

The right shade of white.


Our last day on Mull was spent investigating the many stunning white shell sand beaches on the south coast of the Ross of Mull and Erraid.


Both these beaches are called Traigh Gheal. This is not particularly surprising since most Gaelic place names are simple descriptions. In this case, the English would be "white beach". Of course, the Gaelic is much more precise than the English. There are several Gaelic words for white that are commonly applied to places: gheal (geal), bhan (ban) and fionn. It's got to be the right shade of white.

21/07/2007

Thursday, December 13, 2007

The bonfire of Fidden.


A driftwood fire on the Fidden foreshore.

At the end of a long day to the Carsaig arches, which are evidence of Mull’s volcanic and fiery past, we made a bonfire with driftwood, which we had collected from one of the beaches on the Ross of Mull. It was one of the best bonfires, ever. The well seasoned wood was dry and it produced only a little, pleasantly aromatic, smoke. We were untroubled by that frequent bonfire scourge of Scotland, the midge. Our last night on Mull was spent swapping kayaking tales and malt whiskies with a German sea kayaker.

20/07/2007

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

A tale of lamb chops, coal, caesium, sand, fog, wind mills, government and the environment.


One of my favourite launch spots on the Solway Firth is Dhoon shore on Goat Well Bay. Today I learned from BBC News that SEPA (Scottish Environmental Protection Agency) are investigating the sands for any evidence of radioactive contamination from the Sellafield nuclear plant on the other side of the Solway.

I have no strong feelings against nuclear power but I do expect the operators to run a tight ship and there have been lots of careless lapses both in the UK and elsewhere. There are areas of the Ayrshire and Galloway hills (north of the Solway) where sheep and lambs are still not fit for human consumption due to radioactive caesium fall out from the Chernobyl disaster in 1986.


Elsewhere today, 5,000 Shetland sheep have been slaughtered and buried. They were intended for export to England in the autumn for lamb chops but a government research lab leaked foot and mouth virus. The resulting restrictions on animal movement meant they had to stay on Shetland and now there is no pasture left to feed them.


Now it is not sheep but the wind that is farmed in these hills. Despite the government's recent enthusiasm for wind turbines (and there is a huge offshore development currently being constructed in the Solway) I cannot see that these will meet all our energy needs. Monday dawned in Scotland under clear cold and windless skies.

Cycling through the wind farm in the foggy but clean air of Sunday brought back memories of the smogs of the 1950's caused by burning coal for our energy needs. Of course all the cheap Chinese manufactured goods that are flooding into western Christmas stockings have been made by burning coal but that's on the other side of the world. Isn't it?