Carrying on to the end around Morvern

We woke to a bright morning at our camp on the shore of Loch Sunart, unfortunately so did the midges!  A welcome breeze started up as we ate breakfast which was just enough to keep them away.

We were soon on the water and heading into the enclosed Loch na Droma Buidhe (also known as Loch Drumbuie and meaning Loch of the yellow ridge). The mainland shore of this loch had been one possible camp site, but we were pretty sure that the loch would be busy with yachts as it's a popular and very sheltered anchorage.  There were six yachts at anchor immediately off the spot we'd identified, and anyway we'd have missed out on the superb sunset as the view from the loch is obscured by the high ground on Oronsay.

The east end of Loch na Droma Buidhe connects with Loch Sunart by a narrow channel which dries out to leave Oronsay connected to the Morvern shore.  We knew that we'd have a bit of a portage to move the boats across the gap, but felt that this would be a bit quicker than paddling around the outside of Oronsay against a stiff breeze.

The portage was a bit longer than we'd have liked at around 200 metres but having chosen this route we decided to just carry on and carry the boats over.  The yellow colour of the exposed weed here led us to speculate whether this might be the source of the loch's name?

Back on the water and we had a stiff paddle around the south end of Carna against the ebb stream pouring out of Loch Teacuis.  The flow here can be very strong but we arrived near the end of the ebb and were able to eddy-hop around the south of Carna then enjoy a push out of Caol Charna (narrows (kyle) of Carna).  Although we'd been going less than two hours, a stop for second breakfast was unanimously carried - the exertions of portaging and paddling had rekindled appetites!

Back out on Loch Sunart and we started to feel the east wind in our faces, but it was somewhat less than the F5 being broadcast on the VHF weather forecast.  We knew that if it remained at this sort of strength we'd finish our trip without difficulty.  Sunart is a long and fjord-like sea loch reaching far from the open sea, lined with glorious Atlantic oakwood for much of its length.  The scenery is grand, this part of the loch is dominated by Ben Resipol, which today was pin-sharp in the clear air.

The upper part of Loch Sunart is joined to the rest of the loch by a constriction at Laudale.  The tidal stream in the narrows can run very strongly and rough water is often found when wind opposes tide.  By the time we gathered in a bay immediately to the west of the narrows the flood tide was barrelling through against a breeze which had risen a notch as it too passed through the gap.  We expected some rough water but in truth it was just fun, the boats powering through eddy lines and along ribbons of surf.  Donald had so much fun in his F-RIB that he went back for a second pass!

Through the narrows and we were on the last leg of the trip.  At our final stop for a leisurely second luncheon the view ahead was to the Ardgour hills, below which we'd set off.  It seemed like a long time had passed since setting out on Loch Linnhe, but it was only two days previously; sea kayak trips seem to have this ability to make time seem extended.

By the time we reached the slipway near Strontian the wind had died completely to leave a very warm afternoon with temperatures of 25 degrees Celsius - well, very warm for Scotland that is!  After lifting our boats up the slipway, all that remained was to run the shuttle and collect our cars from Glensanda.  It had been a really great trip, almost around Morven, shared with good friends and with memories to treasure.

Our route was 95 kilometres, paddled over two and a half days with two nights en route.  We started on Loch Linnhe, turned up the Sound of Mull and then along Loch Sunart to finish at Strontian.  The forecast weather was for increasingly strong winds from the east, and certainly the wind in the Sound of Mull reached  the top of the forecast.  Otherwise we enjoyed a light easterly airflow and this is probably the best weather in which to do this trip.

Day 1

Not quite an island, not quite the mainland

How to remove a hill - one load at a time    Note that on the Google Earth slide above, the Glensanda quarry is clearly visible as two pale scars above Loch Linnhe, which gives an indication of scale.

Midge Avoidance at Inninmore

Day 2 

Having a blast on the Sound of Mull

The magic of a wild camp on Loch Sunart

A Sunart stunner

Day 3

This post

Ticked off when camping at Loch na Dhroma Buidhe

After leaving Loch Teacuis via the western channel I paddled back out into Loch Sunart and around the north side of Oronsay. There are several islands of this name around the Scottish coast and in each case the Norse-Gaelic name indicates a tidal island, connected to the mainland or another island at lower states of the tide.

Out in the main loch the northerly wind had picked up to F5 and there was a distinctly bouncy sea running despite the short fetch from the north shore; it seemed that the wind was pouring over the Ardnamurchan peninsula and onto Loch Sunart.  I took no photographs for the next hour as I paddled past the inlets of Oronsay then down the west coast of the island to turn into much more sheletered water.....

...at the mouth of Loch na Droma Buidhe (Loch of the yellow ridge).  The entrance to this offhoot of Loch Sunart is narrow at the western end and very narrow at the eastern end where it dries out below half tide.

Being sheltered from almost all directions and with decent holding ground on the bottom, Loch na Droma Buidhe is one of the more popular yacht anchorages on this part of the west coast.  there were two yachts anchored when I arrived and three more arrived during the evening, including one on which, incongruously, an electric guitar was being played.  Badly.

I landed and set up camp on a grassy meadow, exposed to the midge deterring breeze but in the evening sunlight.  On this occasion, near high water Springs, there was no need to make a decision on whether to move the boat just above the high water mark or to move it next to the tent - here the two were pretty much the same place!  As a bonus, high water the following morning would be just as I was setting out, so no need to move the boat across the pebble shore then either.  As a camp site, it seemed to have lots of advantages.

The guitar player gave up as the sun dropped and the breeze grew distinctly chilly, though there was a lovely warm evening light on the hills.

I retired to the tent just as the last afterglow as fading from the sky to seaward and fell quickly asleep, but in the small hours of the morning I was wakened by the sound of disturbance around my boat.  I asumed it was deer and made a noise which sent everything quiet momentarily before I heard my paddles being rattled about in the cockpit. As I got out of the tent my head torch picked out the yellow glow of a fox's eyes on the shoreline.  My food and a rubbish bag were stowed in the boat and he must have been able to smell, but not find the goodies.  It took quite a long stand-off with some shouting from me before he took the hint and left.  I collected the food and rubbish bag to stow inside my tent and went back to bed.

The short time I was out of the tent may have contributed to the second, less palatable wildlife "experience" at this camp.  Dressing in the early morning light I noticed a couple of black dots on my ankles and removed a couple of tiny Ticks.  On getting home later that evening, the full extent of the problem became apparent - I was liberally covered from midriff down in Ticks - I stopped counting after removing over 30.  Fortunately they were all, except two, at the tiny larval stage and so unlikely to be a risk in terms of being a vector for Lyme Disease, nevertheless it was the greatest number of these pests I've ever picked up.

The breeze died just as I was finishing off taking down the tent in the morning which brought out the midges, but I was quickly on the water and away towards the very narrow eastern entrance to the loch.  The house here is reputed to have once been a tiny brewery as well as a ferry landing, but it's well past last orders these days.  The channel has a series of large rock outcrops with narrow, shallow channels between; no place for vessels much larger than a sea kayak and certainly not suitable for yachtsmen, however bold.