A cinematic event at Shoe Bay

From our camp at "Shoe Bay" Douglas and Tony climbed a nearby rocky hill to watch the evening's cinematic entertainment.

The show began as the spotlight came up behind us......

...and cast a lovely pale light over Loch Moidart.  Beyond the loch, Beinn Resipol seemed almost translucent in the evening light.  But the rise of the full moon was just the curtain-raiser - the main event was underway in the opposite direction.

...as a smoky sunset coloured up the western sky.  As it set beyond the low outline of Muck, we speculated as to whether the sky would develop into technicolour shades or not.

A little further along the horizon, the silhouette of Eigg sailed the western sea - it's always reminded me of the outline of a ship.  Eigg and Muck have given such superb days, whether on the sea or on foot - they really do feel like old friends I'm privileged to have an acquaintance with.

There would be no technicolour blaze across the horizon on this evening, but we weren't complaining....every sunset is subtly different and this one was a slow, smouldering affair.

Below the rocky perch I'd chosen, the sand of Shoe Bay turned ghostly pale in the evening light and the colour of our boats seemed to really glow.

We created our own blaze and glow as the evening progressed....sitting around our fire and reflecting on just how fortunate we are to be able to experience evenings such as this in special places like these.

Out of the blue - Bay of Laig to Galmisdale

We woke to a sparkling morning, the view of Rum from our camp at Bay of Laig was very fine.  Mike and I had landed the previous evening at just about high water and so didn't have far to move the boats.  Over breakfast we watched the morning high water come and go - handily it wasn't far to move the boats back into the water.

Where the evening view of Rum was a silhouette backed by the sunset, the morning view is flooded with light, showing the features of the island.  We picked out each of the grand, Norse-named hills - from left to right are Sgurr na Gillean, Ainshival, Trollaval, Askival, the highest of Rum's Cuillin, and Hallival.  We were able to clearly pick out Glen Dibidil, enclosed by rugged ridges and at the left of the view the cliffs of Sron na h-Iolaire.

Sat around our fire  the previous evening we'd discussed various options for the rest of our trip.  We had another two nights available before both of us had commitments, and this helped us in deciding that a circumnavigation of Rum would be too long a route.  Even if we took the ferry from Kinloch to Mallaig we'd still have a further day's paddling back to our cars at Glenuig.  We also considered an out-and-back to Harris Bay on Rum's west coast but to both of us this seemed like making the crossing simply for the sake of it.  I've yet to paddle the west coast of Rum, but it'll wait until the time is right.

Some trips require detailed planning due to tidal constraints or weather conditions - but on this one we could be much more flexible.  We'd deliberately set out with no fixed itinerary other than a crossing to Eigg.  If the weather forecast changed dramatically we could simply use the ferry back to Mallaig and work back to Glenuig, otherwise we'd go with what seemed best at the time.  The settled conditions in the early morning looked good for a crossing to Muck, so that was what we decided on.

Heading out from Laig opened up the view to the north where the Black Cuillin of Skye floated above a sea mist.  We picked out individual peaks, re-living great days and hard battles on that amazing ridge.

From Bay of Laig there are no tenable landing places for 12 kilometres along the west and south coasts of Eigg; cliffs fall to jumbled boulder shores or straight into the sea.  Conditions were absolutely perfect to get close in and exploring this dramatic section of the island.

Buttresses, caves and crags are the predominant scenery here and we were treated to great views.  The warm sunshine, clear visibility and flat sea was quite a contrast to my previous journey along this part of Eigg, when Douglas and I were entranced by shifting mist and tantalising glimpses of great walls of rock on a winter journey in the Small Isles.

The low outline of Muck became visible as we headed around the coast, conditions were still good and we were looking forward to crossing with  a bit of sail assistance from a north easterly breeze which had started up.  Taking a bearing to keep us on track, we agreed the target as Gallanach Bay and hoisted our sails to begin the crossing.

We were soon spanking along as the breeze freshened a little, our boats surging forward under sail.  The breeze continued to freshen though, a smooth acceleration in wind speed up through Force 2 to 3, then to 4.  Mike and I made sure we were in close formation whilst enjoying this exhilarating ride down wind and sea, spray bursting from the bows of our boats - there are no photographs from this period as both hands were definitely needed on the paddle!

As the wind had reached Force 4 I'd been doing some thinking about the conditions.  A north easterly wind would quickly build a swell running onto Muck, and I knew from previous experience that Muck has reefs all around which amplify any swell.  Furthermore, a north easterly would be blowing directly from Eigg and would make returning from Muck a real slog.  We hadn't been able to get a forecast either from the Maritime Safety Information broadcasts on VHF or from Radio Scotland as there was no reception at Laig Bay - so we were working on a forecast from almost 36 hours previously.

Gradually, my internal alarm bells started ringing.  I've developed a healthy respect for winds from an easterly component which blow from clear blue sky in high pressure conditions - they have led to some of my toughest battles on the water.  The wind, now touching Force 5, was continuing to strengthen and both Mike and I dropped our sails as the power going through them was terrific with our boats laden with camping gear.  At that moment the VHF forecast was announced and we listened to it with full attention.  Winds of Force 5 or 6 from the northeast, then east were forecast - which settled the matter.  We turned about and battled back towards Eigg.  We had got just about half way to Muck and could already see the line of surf right along its coastline - a landing would have been quite sporting and getting off difficult if the wind continued as forecast.  It was a mighty struggle to get back to Eigg's south coast, the wind was pouring off the island as a steady, insistent force.

Eventually we won back close under the shore and in the wind shadow of the An Sgurr ridge - it was like a different world with just a light breeze.  Out to sea, the glittering surface was full of whitecaps - we felt we'd made the right decision.

Above us, the great ridge of An Sgurr was picked out in sharp detail by the morning sun, a dramatic sight....and we began to form an alternative plan for the day.........

......which first called for us to head for Galmisdale, Eigg's main settlement (but don't expect a busy town!).  Pulling our boats up on the sand opposite the pier, we got by a friendly reception from a dog who clearly felt that sea kayakers arrived here simply for him to play with.  Having carried the boats well up the sand, we noticed that we weren't the only paddlers in town.

Two boats sat at the top of the beach, meaning two paddlers with almost certainly  the same intention we had.....

Mike and I strolled over to the Galmisdale Cafe where we ordered lunch - and we can report that the home-made burgers with salad and hand cut chips are simply superb!  Over lunch, we finalised our revised plan for the day which would involve very little sea kayaking, but quite a lot of walking.

An evening on Muck and the end of a journey

On the final night of our journey Douglas and I stayed at the Muck Bunkhouse.  The warden, Rosie, is a great character and has a wealth of knowledge about the island.

The bunkhouse is warm and cosy; heated by a Raeburn stove burning fuel oil, which also provides the hot water.  Muck doesn't have a constant supply of electricity and the times when the power is on are on a notice on the wall.  There are candles for lighting outwith the "electricity times".  We were very comfortable here and would highly recommend a stay.  It's easier if you have your own sleeping bag, though bedding can be provided.

We cooked an enormous meal of haggis, carrots and mashed potatoes, accompanied with a Guiness and followed by a dram of Jura whisky.  It was a very chilled out evening, made possibly more enjoyable when we heard the rain drumming on the roof....

The morning dawned grey and wet, but the rain soon cleared through.  We went for a walk across the island to explore a little.  Muck is farmed as a large single farm by the MacEwen family.  They are forward thinking land owners, and are constantly seeking to keep a mix of families on the island, recognising that a vibrant community is the heart of an island.

We identified a couple of beaches for future landings and,perhaps, camp sites.

The sun burned away the mist as we returned to Port Mor to collect our things from the bunkhouse and head down to meet the ferry.

Loch Nevis arrived spot on time.  The crew asked how our journey had been, and we enjoyed a fine meal on the passage back to Mallaig.

Our journey was now truly over, but what a fantastic journey it had been.  I was so very pleased to have been able to share the trip with Douglas; we both know we'll return to do a variation on this journey, there are just so many options and we didn't paddle some stretches we'd like to do.

This journey through the Small Isles is undoubtedly the most enjoyable trip I've ever undertaken, and for so many different reasons.  The journeying, the folk we met, the places we stayed and the things we saw all added to the experience.  Douglas and I share a common outlook on trips like this, and that shared philosophy/approach made for a hugely enjoyable time. We also had time to plan some other trips for the future  :o)

Roaring surf and a wall of tombstones - don't underestimate Muck!

Having arrived on the Isle of Muck, our plan was to paddle anticlockwise around the north and west coasts to arrive at Port Mor, where we'd phoned ahead to book beds at the bunkhouse.   It was low water, two days after Springs and vast Laminaria weed forests were exposed by the tide.

We looked at passing through the gap between Eilean nan Each and Muck, but although the Ordnance Survey 1:50K and 1:25K maps both show water in this channel at low water, there is most definitely not.  It seems that a boulder beach has been thrown up and Eilean nan Each is now a tidal island.

Overhead, a graceful arc of cloud marked the edge of a weather front; we estimated we could see the cloud front reaching away for over two hundred miles in a single sweep.

Paddling around the outside of Eilean nan Each (Horse Island) was a special experience.  The sea was calm but a low and powerful groundswell was roaring over shallow reefs.  We had to carefully time our passage inside the smaller islet of Eagamol as the swell compressed and propelled us through at a most satisfactory rate.  The 50 metre cliffs on Eilean nan Each aren't even shown on the maps - and this underestimation seems to be something associated with Muck.

I admit that I hadn't expected Muck to be as dramatic or interesting in a paddling sense as the other Small Isles, perhaps because it is low lying and outwardly unassuming.  I'm happy to report that I was utterly wrong!

The "fingers" which are such a feature of the island when seen on the map are reefs reaching from the shore at just the right angle to magnify swell and cause it to race up the exposed rock in a welter of surf and noise.  Added to this, the west coast is absolutely and totally exposed to Atlantic weather.  There is no VHF reception, no habitation and nothing on the horizon except the low shape of Coll - beyond; nothing but ocean.

On the west coast, at the back of Camas Mor (Big Bay) is this set of cliffs.  Their name translates, ominously as "The wall of tombstones" !  The height to which big swells have cleaned the rock can clearly be seen.  There is a large cave at one end of the cliff and a collapsed cave system at the other which has formed a cicular inlet known locally as the Witches Cauldron.  We felt disinclined to investigate either more closely!

A large raft of Fulmars (Fulmarus glacialis) took off from the water in Camas Mor to make close inspection flights past us - it's a real characteristic of these super birds, it seems to be pure curiosity on their part.

Over the low central portion of Muck, the Rum Cuillin could be seen; they had been our near constant companions on this journey.

All too soon we rounded a final point, squeezed through a narrow channel and entered the bay of Port Mor.  This would mark the end of the paddling on our journey in the Small Isles, but not quite end the trip itself.  We slowed our paddling speed, not really wanting to finish the paddling......

On a mirror to Muck

We paddled out from Galmisdale and on past the Sgurr of Eigg.

Ahead lay the low-lying Isle of Muck, our destination for the day and the final island of our Small Isles journey.  Although the sky was cloudy the air was very mild and we were quite warm in our drysuits.

We paddled on a silver mirror, the sky and sea seeming to draw together at the horizon in a subtle but beautiful effect.

Away to the south was the Ardnamurchan peninsula; it seemed such a long time since we paddled that stretch of coast, but it was less than two weeks previously.

We expected to feel a considerable tidal stream between Eigg and Muck, the tidal information suggested a flow of around 3 knots.  In fact we felt very little movement at all and were able to adjust our transit to paddle straight towards.......

.......yet another fine beach!   We arrived on the Isle of Muck at Camas na Cairidh, a small bay with a narrow beach and signs of a former fish trap created by building an arc of boulders to trap fish on a falling tide.  We enjoyed first luncheon of soup and bread on the turf above the beach, but we didn't linger too long as we had no desire to be human captives of the fish trap!

The view towards Rum was sublime, with Glen Dibidil clearly visible between the prominent hills.

There were smaller sight to see too; this piece of dried seaweed stem had curled itself into the shape of a Celtic knot.