Farewell to Cara

From the Mull of Cara we paddled up the east coast of the island  where even in the gentle swell there were surf traps for the unwary. The rocks here were still white with cormorant guano though...

 ...only a few birds remained.

We were not the only ones leaving Gigha and Cara. This beautiful yacht had moored overnight at Ardminish Bay on Gigha and was now taking advantage of the settled weather to make her way back from the West Coast to the Isle of Man via the Mull of Kintyre and the North Channel.

We came to a beautiful series of tombola beaches before...

 ...saying our final farewells to Cara and the Brownie and setting off across the Sound of Cara to Gigalum.

 This was another excuse to paddle through the Gigalum reefs...

 ...leaving the Mull of Cara far in our wakes.

The SW coast of Gigha proved to be...

 ...equally rewarding with crystal clear waters.

We could not resist pulling into Port an Sgiathain on Gigha for a leisurely first luncheon before starting the crossing back to Kintyre..

A meeting with the latter day Brownie of Cara at the Mull.

 When we woke on Cara on the third and last day of our trip the skies were overcast but there was no wind or swell which would make ideal conditions to round the Mull of Cara.

We set off round Cara in an anticlockwise direction which took us through the skerries on the island's NW coast.

 An unmistakable odour revealed a number of the island's large goat population.

As soon as we were out of the shelter of the skerries we encountered swell which is often a reason to keep well out but it was just about as flat as I have ever seen it.

Ian had not being expecting the Mull of Cara to be particularly impressive so he was delighted when we first saw its rocky profile.

 It was so calm we were able to paddle right into Dead Man's Bay to the west of the Mull.

 Ian was dwarfed by the scale of the rocks which had fallen from the Mull in a huge landslide in 1756. The resulting tsunami destroyed coastal houses on Cara, Gigha and the west coast of Kintyre as far north as West Loch Tarbert.

 We took it in turn to paddle out to get some good distance shots. It was slack water but when the tide is running against the wind here, photography would be the last thing on your mind.

 High above the sightless stone eyes of the Cara eagle gazed out to the Atlantic. For a time we had had the impression we were being watched and had caught an occasional sight of a small brown figure flitting from rock to rock. Was it the Brownie?...

 Then we say it. It was the alpha male goat of Cara. He was perched on a comfortable rock...

...high on the cliffs of the Mull...

...watching over his flock below. We paddled on leaving the Mull of Cara to the goats and the Brownie.