A big cave and big appetites at Kildonan, Arran

From the sadly deserted beach at Cleit Shore we sped past huge boulder beaches until a dramatic change in the landscape announced our arrival at Bennan Head, which marks the southern tip of Arran.

Just offshore lies Pladda which is the second biggest of Arran's three satellite isles: Holy Island, then Pladda, then tiny Hamilton Isle.

We were sailing and paddling  at 9-10km per hour and David spotted the Kildonan Hotel in the distance. We might make the 3:30 Race after all! Bennan Head is composed of a sill of hard igneous rock. The original softer rocks, through which it intruded, have weathered away leaving it standing exposed. A waterfall cascades down its west (left) side.

A huge cave, the  Black Cave, cuts right into the head and...

...emerges through a high window into the gully on its west side.

We sped on to Kildonan, David made straight for the Kildonan Hotel to catch the Scottish Grand National at Ayr on the television in the residents' lounge. He looked very dapper in his plum suit with cummerbund!

Meanwhile I set my tent up in the Seal Shore commercial camp site. (There is plenty of wild camping about 2-3km away but we fancied a hot shower!)

As the flood tide began to pour between Kildonan and Pladda, we made our way to...

..the truly excellent Kildonan Hotel. The owners, Rodrigo and Anne had just by chance arranged a Mediterranean buffet night for a very reasonable £15 per head. Needless to say, we signed up on the spot. We were not disappointed, neither were the many locals, who had clearly enjoyed previous buffets. After our meal David and I retired to the bar for a Guinness, where we had a very pleasant chat with the amiable Rodrigo. We will definitely return and so should you. I just hope that our appetites have not caused a seakayakers' levy to be added to the buffet bill!

A distinct lack of nudists at Cleits Shore.

The SW shore of Arran is  superficially less dramatic than its neighbours. A boulder beach is backed by a raised beach which in turn is backed by a line of now dry wave cut cliffs. However, a series of basalt dykes run out to sea for distances of up to a kilometre from the shore.

They are particularly prominent in the region of the Cleits Shore, where they extend for a considerable distance, just under the surface of the water.  You need to give them a wide berth, especially when kayak sailing at speed, with laden kayaks!

I mentioned to David that this shore was a nudist beach, the only legal one in Scotland. Despite David being anxious to get to Kildonan in time for the 3:30 in the Scottish Grand National horse race at Ayr, he now seemed keen to take a break on the shore.

Despite it being legal, there was not a single nudist in sight and neither of us felt like disrobing from the warmth of our dry suits, just to exercise our legal rights.

From the sands at the south end of Arran, we had a fine view of Ailsa Craig, some 22km away to the SSE. We had done this crossing from Ailsa to Arran exactly two years previously.

Twenty eight km to the SW we saw Sanda, with Rathlin Island in the distance to the SSW. There was also a decent wind, which held the promise of a quick sail to Kildonan.

False impressions at Blackwaterfoot.

Back on the water, we set off on the third day of our circumnavigation of Arran. We caught our first glimpse of Ailsa Craig as we rounded Drumadoon Point. Mist was curling off the Craig's summit, giving the impression that it was still an active volcano.

The point was also a turning point as far as our sailing was concerned. We set off for Blackwaterfoot on a beam reach and were to continue sailing for the next 37km, all the way round to the north end of Holy Island!

We took a brief diversion into Blackwaterfoot's little harbour.  Our sailing rigs stopped dog walkers in their tracks, and even delivery van drivers waved! At high water you can enter the harbour's inner basin...

...and paddle right up under the bridge over the Black Water burn. It all looks very impressive...

...until you see it with the tide out, like this view from our visit in January 2010. The harbour is little more than a river channel.

It was still early morning and the adjacent Kinloch Hotel was not yet serving so...

...we hoisted the sails again and set off from the harbour towards Brown Head. As we rounded each headland on the southern end of Arran, the wind freed and strengthened and we sailed on an increasingly fast broad reach.

Up and doon the Doon, before breakfast!

The third day of our round Arran trip dawned grey but dry. We had camped beneath a dramatic tertiary sill called the Doon.

Over a cup of fresh brewed coffee...

...David suggested trying to get to the top. The volcanic sill had been used as an Iron Age fort more than 2,000 years ago. Today its only inhabitants were fulmars, which were nesting high on its inaccessible ledges.

We cut across lichen covered rocks to get to the foot of the sill.

A steep path wound its way up through a series of ledges and rocky pinnacles. As we caught our breath, we looked over the Kilbrannan Sound to Kintyre beyond.

The top was almost flat and walking across it we enjoyed magnificent views to the mountains of North Arran. However, there was no suggestion that we were surrounded by precipitous cliffs.

This was the view from the north edge of the Doon and shows Imachar Point in the distance.

If it was good enough for a Royal to kip down, it'll be good enough for us!

By the time we arrived at Dougarie estate boathouse, it was 18:25 and pouring with rain.

 We continued south and thankfully the rain stopped an hour later.

We now set across the broad expanse of Machrie Bay. We were bound for the headland below Torr Righ Mor, still some 6km distant.

As we approached the headland, the setting sun lit it in a last blaze of sunshine.

From the rocks below Torr Righ Mor, we saw the next headland of Drumadoon Point, some 2km further south.  W knew we would need to find shelter for the night somewhere between these two points as the sun had now set. If unsuccessful, our credit cards would take a hit at the Kinloch Hotel which is conveniently situated on the shore 1.5km further on than Drumadoon Point. Such are the hardships to be endured by those who kayak in the wilderness!

But first we came to a place that has enjoyed even Royal patronage. At the foot of some old red sandstone cliffs, above a raised beach...

...we passed a series of large caverns. The left hand one is called King's Cave. It was in this very cave that Robert the Bruce got inspiration from a spider. He was on the run for the murder of another Scottish  noble, John the Red Comyn. Like  "de Bruce" himself, he was also of Norman descent and was a rival for the Scottish throne.

David and I didn't fancy the rocky landing below the caves and as both of us have an aversion to arachnids, we pressed on into the gathering night.

I knew of a small break in the rocks to the south of King's Cave with good camping nearby but when we arrived we discovered that a lone female walker had already set up camp there. Rather than cause alarm by emerging from the dark sea, David and I paddled on into the gloom like perfect gentlemen.

Fortunately we found a narrow slit in the rocks before Drumadoon Point. It had some rather smelly sea weed at its head but at least it was a soft landing.

We set up the tents by torch light. It was too late to forage for firewood but we had brought a bag of barbecue charcoal and some kiln dried logs! Our small but effective fire lasted for some four hours, until we had partly drained the contents of a couple of bottles of Glenfiddich! We felt like Kings, as we regaled each other with increasingly unlikely tales of past sea kayaking exploits.

Raised beaches and a raised graveyard on Arran's west coast.

Once we had left Catacol, our view to the south was obscured by Rhuba Airigh Bheirig.

Past the headland, the view of the Kilbrannan Sound opened up and the Mull of Kintyre...

...stretched away to the south. The coastline near Leninmore is very rocky but low tide revealed some lovely sand.

Behind every possible landing beach on this stretch of coast, you will find a cluster of cottages built on the raised beach behind the current shore line as here at Rubha Ban. In the woods, covering the old cliff line beyond, you will find caves and natural arches, which were carved by the sea after the last ice age.

We were passed by the Spirit of Fairbridge, K 381. She was built in 1985 and is a replica of an 1850 Liverpool Bay Pilot Cutter. She is a gaff rigged schooner and is 21.75m long, (28m including her bowsprit). She is operated as a sail training vessel for young people by Fairbridge.

South of Pirnmill we came to Whitefarland Point. Heavy overfalls appear over Erin's Bank (which lies about 1km off the Point) during the south going ebb, especially with a southerly wind. 

There is an interesting graveyard at the Point. It is contained within a boulder wall built on the foreshore. When the crofters from the interior of Arran were resettled round the coast, they had little land and also lost access to their traditional graveyards. This one served the nearby community of Pirnmill and was constructed here to preserve the scarce fertile land for growing crops. The grave stones date from 1844 until 1962 and it is still well maintained though access from the land is not easy.

Near Imachar Point we found another break in the rocks that allowed a reasonable landing. There was a raised beach with another line of former sea cliffs behind. We considered stopping for an early tea here...

...it was a lovely wild spot, but it started to rain and we were not yet half way round Arran. We decided to press on.

An early supper with the Twelve Apostles

Upon leaving Loch Ranza, a pesky head wind got up and as we were by now getting hungry (it was past midday)...

...we were delighted to come across the Catacol Bay Hotel. It enjoys a magnificent situation under Meall nan Damh (570m) but it looked a bit run down. However we were cold and hungry...

...so we landed on the awkward stony beach and made our way up to the hotel.

The welcome was warm, despite our dry suits, and the Guinness was excellent. We opted for breaded haddock and chips, which was served quickly, with a crisp, freshly prepared salad. All in all, we enjoyed our visit.

By the time we left, the wind had eased and we passed the Twelve Apostles of Catacol. They were built for crofter families cleared from the interior by a landlord who wanted to turn their crofting land over for a deer shooting estate. The plan was that they would turn into seafarers and fish the seas for a living. Each cottage has a differently shaped dormer window. If one of the wives needed to contact her husband if he was out fishing at night she would place a candle in the window. The appropriate fisherman would get the message, depending if he remembered what shape his window was. Anyway, David and I knew this scheme had been doomed. An exposed shore and only a rudimentary jetty meant no easy landing in a storm.

Crossing Catacol Bay, we looked back at the Twelve Apostles and thought of those who had been cleared from the land for others' sport.