Solway sojourn - a stone symbol and a smashing session

 We made good progress out of the River Dee and back out to Kircudbright Bay with the ebb tide behind us.  The morning's wind had died away and it was pleasantly warm on the water - especially so for mid-October.  Ahead lay Little Ross Island where we'd camped above the shore in line with the lighthouse the previous night.

 We called the Dundrennan Range safety boat, the "Gallovidian", to report our intentions on VHF and again got a very positive and pleasant response. Douglas had obtained the range schedule a couple of days prior to our trip and we knew that the range was active with military vehicles firing out to sea to the east of Little Ross.  During the morning and again in the afternoon we heard a variety of light and medium gunfire and what sounded to be a particularly impressive automatic heavy calibre weapon.

A pebble beach on the mainland side of The Sound gave us an opportunity to stop and stretch our legs as the the next section of our journey would be a couple of hours straight paddling.  It was now well into the afternoon and by no means certain that we'd reach our intended camp site before sunset.

We passed back along the outstanding line of cliff scenery between  Slack Heugh and Brighouse Bay with a gentle push from the wind.  To our disappointment we couldn't spend as long as we'd have liked on this section due to the time and the ebbing tide, of which we were acutely conscious - low water on the Solway can result in some very lengthy distances from the water to the top of the beach.

We certainly didn't rush along though - that's not our style unless absolutely necessary.  Keeping close inshore we enjoyed both the scenery and the very warm conditions, we paddled in short sleeved shirts and salopettes and even in this light kit we felt somewhat hot.

There were new angles that we'd not noticed on our outward journey too.....

...this mimetolith bears more than a passing resemblance to the Lion Rampant, heraldic symbol of Scotland - even the yellow background is present!

The noise of artillery fire from Dundrennan Range had faded away as we turned out of The Sound and into the shelter of the cliffs but as we cleared Brighouse Bay we looked over our shoulders......

 ...and wondered just what exactly they were firing back there!

 We indulged in a little more exploration of the caves and clefts on our way to Kirkandrews Bay, were we'd stopped at Castle Haven Dun on our outward journey.  We had noticed a good selection of dry driftwood and a broken pallet washed up above the tide line and set these aside to collect on the way back. 

We landed on soft sand in a narrow inlet, recovered our stash of wood and made use of a "Driftwood Reduction Kit" consisting of:

                                                  Area of flat rock x 1

                                                  Large boulder x 1

                                                  Folding pruning saw with good quality blade x 1 

The technique is relatively unsophisticated but quite effective.  Place the pallet on the flat rock and apply the boulder repeatedly from a working height.  Take the other driftwood pieces and reduce in like manner or by cutting into manageable pieces with the saw.  Place the resulting firewood into a couple of Indespensible Kayak Expedition Accessory bags and stow inside or secure on top of the boats.  Job done!

We were only ashore about 15 minutes, but even in that short time the tide had receded quite a distance.  It was time to head for our campsite by the quickest route......

........back out through the skerries into what was turning out to be a truly beautiful evening.

Solway sojourn - shipshape and Stevenson style

We were up and about before sunrise on Little Ross Island.  Douglas kept up the standard in our little group by shaving before breakfast.....  Mike and I elected to remain as passable "Billy Goats Gruff", though when Douglas suggested taking luncheon in Kirkcubright we did wonder just how posh the place he had in mind might be!

We'd only briefly visited the lighthouse the previous evening, and as we're all very much pharophiles, we walked back up the hill.......

...to explore the lighthouse a little more.  Built at the mouth of Kirkcudbright Bay to close the gap between the lights at Mull of Galloway and Southerness, Little Ross Island light was lit on 1st January 1843, and flashes white once every five seconds.

The mechanism here was at the cutting edge of the technology of the time as it was the first light of catadioptric type, with metallic mirrors above and below the lenses.  The huge lens was removed after the light was automated and is now on display in Kirkcubright museum.

An inscription above the door identifies that the building contractor was Robert Hume and the Engineer (the title used by the designer and overseer of the lights of the Northern Lightboard) was Robert Stevenson.  Founder of the formidable dynasty of lighthouse builders (and grandfather of the author Robert Louis Stevenson), Robert had made his name with the building of the Bell Rock light off the coast of Arbroath, an astounding technical achievement.

His designs would set the standard for those who followed. Architecture was symmetric, geometric and precise, almost austere.  It reflected the character of the man, but also laid out in stone Robert's vision for the Northern Lighthouse Service, everything should be ordered and "shipshape" to a high degree; nothing less would be tolerated.  The Latin inscription at the door is the NLB's motto "In Salutem Omnium" (For the Safety of All) and Robert believed with all his being that the NLB was a vocation rather than a job.  The story of the "Lighthouse Stevensons" and some of their most notable lighthouses is told in an excellent book of that title by Bella Bathurst, well worth a read.

Indiscipline and slackness were rare among lighthouse keepers, they were a breed of steady and patient men of routine and habit. I'm fortunate to have known a man who worked at several of the sea-lights and he was the archetypal keeper, a man to respect.  Of course, there were occasional incidents and where these did occur they tended to be remarkable.  In August 1960 there were two keepers at Little Ross instead of the usual three as the light was about to be automated.  One of the keepers, Hugh Clark, was found murdered, with the only suspect being the assistant keeper Robert Dickson.  Dickson fled to England but was arrested and found guilty of the murder and sentenced to hang, this was later commuted to life imprisonment.  To this day there are sea kayakers who won't camp on Little Ross, believing it to be haunted, but we felt that the ghost of a man who spent his working life assuring the safety of mariners would harbour no ill to us. 

Nowadays the light tower is locked and barred, with the familiar bronze plaque of the NLB affixed to the gate.

The keeper's cottages are now in private ownership and the new owners have added some nice touches such as this boot-remover in the shape of a beetle......

...and a suitably lighthouse-themed doorbell.

On our way back down to the boats we explored the surroundings of the lighthouse.  A row of cottages built on quite a slope lie just outside the walled garden which would have provided the keepers with fruit and vegetables.

The angle at which this reclining row is built can be seen in the door lintels.

Either side of the fireplace in one cottage which appears to have been a smithy there are symbols inscribed into the worked stone blocks.  We were at a loss as to what they might represent, but our friend Duncan has identified them as "mason's marks", the signature in stone of the stonemason and a tradition stretching back over a thousand years.

Within the walled garden the new owners of Little Ross have constructed a ship-shaped shed, although "shed" doesn't really do it justice.  A comfortable summerhouse on the deck of a boat heading for who knows where, it must be a great place to while away an afternoon.

The garden itself is still tended; some vegetables and flowers are being cultivated, alongside rows of teasels.

Back at the beach, we paused to inspect the island's only vehicle, an Alvis FV620 Stalwart.  Dating from the late 1960's the Stalwart was an amphibious military transport vehicle which saw service with the British Army and with oil exploration companies - I remember having a "Matchbox" model of this vehicle as a small boy....

With six-wheel drive and an amphibious drive system which could propel it at 6 knots, the Stalwart was designed as a go-anywhere transport.  It was, unfortunately very complex and required huge maintenance effort.  The amphibious drive was usually removed unless it was absolutely required and the six-wheel paired drive system was very prone to transmission wind-up if use on normal roads.  Oh, and there were no doors either, the crew had to enter and exit through hatches on the roof.  Small wonder this example has seen better days!

Just offshore the Dundrennan range safety boat had moored.  We knew that the firing range was active, and that the coast to east of Little Ross Island was out of bounds.  To avoid causing any inconvenience, we spoke to the range boat on VHF and outlined our plan to keep well clear of range activity by heading directly into Kirkcubright Bay, and arranged to call again when we were heading outbound.  This information was acknowledged by the crew and we got a cheery wave as we headed out on the second day of our Solway sojourn.

Solway sojourn - a spectacular sunset

As we had time in hand before sunset we decided to paddle around Little Ross Island rather than heading directly to the beach where we'd camp.

The majority of the coast of this small island is defended by jagged outcrops of rock......

....and some more wonderfully contorted rock formations. 

The quality of the evening light was extraordinary, almost a spotlight effect against the dark clouds which had formed over the mainland to the north.  We paddled a little faster in order that we could land and pitch our tents before climbing the island to watch what we hoped would be a spectacular sunset.

We were certainly not disappointed.  Having landed on a steep pebble beach at the north of the island and pitched our tents on a level grassy platform, we got to the summit of the island just as the sun was setting beyond distant Burrow Head.  Behind us a secondary sunset was occurring.....

...in gorgeous reflection on the windows of the lighthouse buildings.

As is so often the case the best colours developed well after the sun was below the horizon.  The smoulder of the horizon was enhanced by vivid colouration on the undersides of the clouds.
 

Gradually the reflected sunset crept up the window of the lighthouse building as the light changed, until there was one final flourish from the real thing......

Simply stunning.

After the exertion of getting to the top of the island and then standing to enjoy the sunset, we suddenly became aware of  a chilly evening breeze which had started up - it was time to return to the tents, prepare dinner and get a fire going.

I've got no images of the evening although Douglas has some here  as there was a technical difficulty with my camera - suspected at the time and confirmed in daylight to be Operator Error.   It turned out to be an evening of minor mishaps for me; when I stood up to get another log for the fire my chair pitched forward in the breeze and was only rescued from the fire by Mike's lightning reactions.  Not five minutes later the chair leg slipped off a flat stone as I sat down and I damaged the frame by falling sideways, knocking over my sports recovery drink container in the process!

We retired to our tents quite early as it had been a long day and the breeze was chilly despite the fire.  In the small hours we were wakened suddenly by a nightmarish, inhuman screeching - and bear in mind that Little Ross Island is reputed to be haunted!  It took only a second or two for me to recognise the commotion as an argument between two grumpy Herons - and somewhat longer for my heart rate to return to normal levels - fortunately the remainder of the night was quieter.....

Solway sojourn - Silurian splendour

Leaving Brighouse Bay, we embarked on the last leg of our day's paddle hoping to be ashore at our intended camp before sunset.  We would certainly be able to observe the progress towards sunset as we were bathed in lovely October afternoon sunlight.

Straight from the beach we were back among great rock architecture with channels behind stacks appearing as we paddled along.  No matter what the progress towards sunset, this wasn't a stretch of coast we intended to rush.

It's worth noting the tide mark on the rocks in this image to get an idea of the range - the ebb still had two hours to run at this point!

Of all the coastline we'd paddle on our Solway journey this stretch between Brighouse Bay and Fox Craig was undoubtedly my favourite.  A combination of impressive rock architecture, the colours of the cliffs enhanced by low angled sunlight and the sheer presence of the place left a lasting impression.  If you paddle this section  - and really you should - wait for a calm day with late afternoon or evening sunshine; I guarantee it will match anything, anywhere.

The lichens on the cliffs are so vibrantly yellow that they rivalled our drysuits for colour!

At Fauldbog Bay the layered sandstone slabs become really noticeable again, tilted to an acute angle by the impact of England into Scotland.

We are sea kayakers rather than geologists, so when we arrived below this piece of Silurian splendour rather than discussing "alternating turbidite lithofacies" - we just said "Wow....how close can we get to that?!"

In a corner of the bay a tiny cave was exposed just enough to be receiving the gentle swell and reverberating with a mighty blow back felt in the solar plexus.  Clearly there was a cave monster at home in this one.....

Just when we thought the cliff scenery might be coming to an end.....

...we turned the corner into Slack Heugh and there was a final crescendo.  We drifted slowly across the bay absorbing the aura of the place and watching Ravens and a Kestrel above the cliff top, then the arcing flash of a Peregrine across the face of the cliff.

With reluctance we paddled out of Slack Heugh and got our first view of the lighthouse on Little Ross, below which we'd camp for the night.  The sun had dipped quite substantially during our journey along the cliffs but we could now relax, knowing that we'd arrive in daylight.