Blooming marvellous scenery, lead and iron in Loch Shiel.

We were still paddling in the mountainous part of Loch Shiel but...

...we came to the first major break in the mountains that line the SE shore, where the River Polloch flows into the loch from the broad Glen Hurrich. A coffin road descends into Glen Hurrich after crossing the mountains that divide it from Loch Sunart. The road was used to transport the deceased in the Sunart area for burial on an island further down Loch Shiel. In 1725 a lead mine was established high in the hills of the glen at Corrantee. This was still worked as recently as the 1980s. In 1745 workers at the mine "donated" gunpowder to Bonnie Prince Charlie's rebellion. At that time there were no roads into the area between Loch Sheil and Loch Sunart and all supplies to the miners and their families had to come in by sea. The Hanoverian parliament (and Hanoverian mine shareholders such as the Duke of Norfolk and General Wade) were so incensed by the theft of the gunpowder that they set up a naval blockade and the mining community died of starvation during the winter of 1745/46.

Back on the NW shore, the mountains gradually receded. The shore became less rocky and the beaches became longer and more frequent.

 At Rubha na h-Aird we came across this ringed plover in the shallows.

As the sun rose in the sky, a nice little breeze got up and our sails gave some gentle assistance.

Camas Drollaman is a large bay protected by this wooded headland and..

...this island just offshore.

 Rather logically the island is called Eilean Camas Drollaman and we enjoyed its wild...

 ...natural beauty.

However, all is not what it seems. Just below the trees on its western point are the remains of a bloomery. This was a primitive smelter for iron ore. I have no idea why it would have been built on such a small island rather than on the mainland. Perhaps the men who operated it wanted to keep the secrets of smelting iron away from prying eyes?

A little further to the SW the loch was narrowed by this peninsula. The beach was backed by sessile oaks and further progress down the loch would require taking a dog leg through the narrows.

Before leaving the mountainous part of Loch Shiel behind we took one last look back up the loch to the misty mountains of Ardgour.

Reflecting on history and the scenery at Gaskan, Loch Shiel.

Nestling at the SW end of Gaskan Wood is Gaskan cottage, all that remains of the hamlet of Gaskan. It was here that the MacDonald's built their birlinns (fast galleys powered by sail and oars) using the plentiful supply of oak. Later the forest was also used to manufacture charcoal which was shipped to the iron furnace at Bonawe on Loch Etive. This was 120km away down the River Shiel, into the sea and round Ardnamurchan Point which was quite a journey!

The author and naturalist Mike Tomkies lived in Gaskan cottage for nearly two decades in the '70s and the '80s. His book "A Last Wild Place" described the time he spent in this cottage at Gaskan which he called "Wildernesse".

SW of Gaskan the scenery was bathed in the golden light of early morning.

Below an area that had been cleared of trees...

...were the remains of an old dry stone sheep fold.

The water was so still that paddling near the shore was again quite disorientating.

Ian spotted a lovely little beach and although...

...we had not paddled far...

...we had seen so much that...

...a stop was called for so that...

...we could drink in more of the wonderful view and properly savour what we had seen.

Eilean Comhlach, a surreal meeting place on Loch Shiel..

I was glad I had taken the trouble of stopping to clear the condensation from my camera lens because the combination...

..of mist and...

 ...early morning light created a surreal effect on the waters of Loch Shiel.

By this time Ian and Mike were just dots on the horizon and added scale to the scene.

 As the sun rose it gradually burned the mist off Gaskan Wood, which was just as well because...

,,,there was not a breath of wind to blow it away.

The cold grey mist still hung about the higher crags and contrasted with the warm rich russet browns of last year's bracken.

For some time my eye had been drawn down the loch to Eilean Comhlach which, with its reflection, made such a pretty picture. Its name could be isle of the meeting place, fellow warrior or suckling pig.  Several lochs have islands where warring chieftans met without fear of being ambushed by each other's men.

However, I resisted the temptation to be completely captivated by the isle and turned to face the way we had come.

 I was rewarded by this scene of mountains and mist closing in round the heads of the loch.

We had each been paddling in our own space but were all drawn to...

 ...paddle towards...

 ...the magical isle of Eilean Comhlach, where we regrouped and met.

We circumnavigated both it and its smaller neighbour.

 We lingered as long as we could but the...

 ...sun was now rising quickly and we had a long way to go. It was with some regret that we left Eilean Comhlach. We each agreed that it was already one of our most memorable days on the water and yet it was only 08:22!

Some matters concerning frost, condensation, mist, "evaporation", disappearing water and the golden light of dawn on Loch Shiel.

The skies cleared about 1a.m. and turned into a bitterly cold night on the shores of Loch Shiel. We had planned to rise at 6am and right on cue a timber lorry rumbled down the forestry road on the far side of the loch. It was the first sound of human activity we had heard since leaving Glenfinnan the previous day.

The sun had not yet risen and the frost lay thick on the ground round our camp site.

We rubbed our hands to keep them warm while our water boiled then after breakfast...

...we loaded the boats. At least, being a fresh water loch, we had not had to carry them far due to the lack of tide! However, the "tide marks" on the sand showed that the level of the loch had dropped 15cm overnight. This might not sound much but Loch Shiel has a surface area of 19.3km2! That is a huge volume of water that had disappeared overnight. Since it clearly had not evaporated it must have gone somewhere else and that somewhere is where we were going....!

We launched just as the first rays of sun hit the mountain slopes high above. You will note that I had brought my Aries 155. It swallowed gear and food for 3 nights and 4 days in winter with no bother though it was right down to the seam.

We were still in deep shade when we launched but by the time our cold fingers fumbled with the spray decks...

...the sun had risen above the mountains.

We turned our backs to the sun and aimed our bows...

...to the SW...

...down the long defile of Loch Sheil. A layer of mist on the water began to rise leaving the...

...air crystal clear in the golden light of dawn. Ian and I snapped away with our DSLR cameras but they were so cold and the air was so humid that the lenses misted up with condensation.

The light was so wonderful that I really did not want to miss any shots. So I landed and spent some time with lens tissues and holding the lens to the sun to warm it.

The tattie stick of Loch Shiel.

 After our "tea stop" we continued down Loch Shiel and passed...

 ..the delta of the River Aladale which flows out of Glen Aladale, the ancestral home of the Jacobite MacDonalds. We were keen to get as far down the loch as possible before night fall so we pressed on. Just as the sun was setting a cold SW wind got up and made finding a camp site more urgent.

We came to a spot where there were two potential camp sites a few hundred metres apart. One had better ground but was exposed to the cold wind. We were getting tired and visited each site twice before making our final decision.

 In the end we decided on the more sheltered location and soon had the tents up and our evening meal cooking.

We got all our things in order by the time darkness fell over Loch Shiel by which time, it was time to get the camp fire lit.

0Baked potatoes were cooking in the embers as we warmed our toes by the fire. We toasted the success of our first day with several malts before the tattie stick was produced to howk the tatties oot the fire. One thing the prudent camper must not do is to chuck all the sticks on the fire before the potatoes are removed. One suitably long stick must be retained! With some butter and salt, the baked potatoes were absolutely delicious and were unanimously voted the best ever.