Fried on Eigg

After enjoying lunch and checking out the facilities at Galmisdale Mike and I returned to our boats and paddled a couple of hundred metres round to the bay which is recommended for yachts to anchor and for informal camping. 

I knew from a previous visit that the ground behind the bay is also used for grazing sheep and cattle - and sure enough some of the cattle were cooling themselves in the water when we arrived on the beach.While we felt that they'd have seen it all before and would be unlikely to bother us, we felt t wise to leave everything in our boats rather than pitching the tents straight away in case one of the younger beasts got curious....

Having used a trolley to half pull and half carry each boat up the soft sand, we got changed into shorts and light shirts for a bit of a walk.  We each had an ultralight rucsac in our boats and packed these with water, some snacks, a long sleeved top and sun cream....good to go.

Heading up the track back towards Galmisdale, we found where the sheep normally on the machair had gone......everything on Eigg is dual purpose where possible!  These ewes had the right idea, at just gone 1pm the heat was pretty full-on, and they still had thick fleeces.

At Galmisdale there's a sign board detailing waymarked walks, with each walk having a colour code.  The coloured waymarks are a bit sketchy to find - if, like us, you want the quickest route to climb An Sgurr, take a track up through some pretty woodland, then follow a rough track across open pasture to reach a gate near this house.  The route then goes left beyond the house and then immediately right - not that obvious but once on the hill path, very straightforward.

This must be one of the most photographed views of An Sgurr, it has a nice composition with the house giving some foreground - and is also a good place to pause on the first of the steep slopes!

There really isn't much doubt which way the wind blows here.  This tree, unexpectedly it's a Beech, was older than its size suggests, cropped and sculpted by the wind.

The climb towards An Sgurr is steady and uncomplicated, just a couple of rocky steps on the crossing of a moor which laps the base of the prow - which gets steadily more impressive as you approach.

The Sgurr is the southern termination of a pitchstone ridge which runs along the spine of Eigg.  Formed during the birth of a huge volcano complex which included creation of the island of Rum, it is effectively a mirror image of the landscape of 58 million years ago.

Pitchstone is formed from viscous lava flows and is tougher than the usual basaltic lavas.  The story of the Sgurr ridge is this:

As the Rum volcano complex erupted, a layered basalt lava flow landscape emerged, covering the ground to the level of the present day ridge.  Over time (about 6 million years), a valley was eroded out of the basalt lavas, and when the pitchstone lava was erupted it filled this valley to the brim. Because pitchstone is so much harder than basalt it resisted erosion as the basalt around it was worn away, so what you see today is an inverted valley, like a jelly-mould image.  There's a good explanation of the process in this paper by the JNCC.

As we crested the slope at the base of the great prow, the view opened to Rum, the source of all the lava. From an elevated viewpoint the vague shape of the Rum Main Ring Fault can be seen in the hills.  Our route contoured along the north flank of An Sgurr to climb though a fault line and emerge onto a shallow col.....

....where the view to the south is suddenly revealed.  The long finger of Ardnamurchan is in the foreground with the west coasts of Islay beyond, fading into a heat haze.

The route now switches to the south side of the An Sgurr ridge and follows a narrow path with a little bit of exposure and stunning views.  Below our feet was the coast we'd paddled that morning, out to sea lies Muck, our original target for the day.  Beyond Muck, faintly discernable in the haze we could see the outline of land - and puzzled for a few minutes about where this might be until Mike correctly identified Coll and Tiree - islands I've yet to visit.

It was clear that the wind had dropped considerably, and that we'd probably have been able to get to and from Muck safely - but what we'd missed in visiting Muck was being amply compensated by this brilliant hillwalk.

Cresting the ridge, we got a view down to Galmisdale and the route we'd walked to get up.  We could clearly see the narrow finger of turf where we would camp, just below the dark coloured skerry in this image.

To the north, the previous night's camp at Bay of Laig was visible at the same time, and the view leapt across the Sound of Rum, now an intense blue.

The final few metres to the summit track across the surface of the pitchstone, showing some of the columnar shapes formed as it cooled.  Right now, it felt like the lava was still warm from the volcano - the heat was terrific and was being reflected up from the rock in pulsing waves of dry, hot air.

On reaching the summit, we flopped down and spent a good half an hour just taking in the views and the situation.  At 393 metres/1289 feet An Sgurr is quite a small hill, but it has a view matched by few other hills in Scotland.  The combination of islands, mountains and lochs forming a true 360 degree panorama are simply stunning.

We left the summit reluctantly - it would have been easy to while away hours up here but we were being absolutely scorched by the sun and had limited water with us.  Truly, we were being fried on Eigg, and would be "sunny side up" for days afterward.

We went fast and direct on the descent - for we had a powerful incentive.....

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.

Laid down at Bay of Laig

The west coast of Eigg is just as spectacular as the east side, great cliffs providing a backdrop to the shoreline. We had a spot in mind to camp and paddled steadily southward towards it.

A party of kayakers had set up camp on level ground above a boulder beach - a great location with a good view, but neither Mike or I thought it would make a good landing or launching spot with heavy boats, and would be difficult to leave if the swell got up on this exposed coast.

Our firs option for camping was at Camas Sgiotaig, but as we rounded the point which forms the north side of the bay, we became aware of a low but powerful groundswell pushing up the Sound of Rum from the open Atlantic.  The swell was roaring across the reef of Bogha na Brice-nis - which I didn't capture very well in this image.  We were already noting that the swell direction was straight into Camas Sgiotaig when we spotted that a lone kayaker was already camped on the shore above the beach.  A slight concern for the swell combined with not wanting to disturb an idyllic camp for someone else made our decision - we would push on a little further to our second potential camp,with the option to return here if necessary.

A couple of kilometres further on we landed at Bay of Laig in flat calm, the swell wasn't reaching around into this bay.  It had been a long day of paddling, some 36km and nine hours since leaving Glenuig, but what a great day it had been.  We quickly found an ideal camping spot and pitched our tents before the slight breeze died completely and the first midges we'd seen this year came out to play - the warning of the Yellow Flag Iris had been correct!

The houses in the distance are at Cleadale, and I was able to pick out Lageorna, the wonderful B&B which Douglas and I had stayed in on our winter trip.

As the sun set, the outline of Rum was reflected in beautiful shades below a soft cloudscape, just lovely.

We gathered a little driftwood to add to some logs we'd brought with us, and with the use of a Wilcox Ignition Aid(TM) we soon had a fire lit, the smoke going some way to deter the midges. 

We lit the fire well down the beach to avoid any risk of stray sparks igniting the tinder-dry ground; and due to the location of our other camps on this trip it would be the only fire we'd light. Fire lit, sports recovery drinks to hand and dinner consumed, life was particularly agreeable -  the midges even gave up after an hour or so to allow us out of our protective mesh jackets.

Our last view before turning in was the faint afterglow of a sunset reflecting on the wet sand in the late evening dusk.  I was asleep almost as soon as I lay down and slept soundly in this wonderful spot.

Cracking the north of Eigg

Mike and I set out from Kildonnan in late afternoon heat and headed north.  The coast from Kildonnan to the north tip of Eigg is rugged and dominated by a line of cliffs falling steeply to the sea - there are almost no viable landing places and those which do exist require flat calm conditions.

We were glad of the shade provided by the cliffs as the heat was terrific - not usually that much of a consideration in Scotland!Sheep were grazing right along the talus slope below the cliffs and we were regularly entertained by the antics of small lambs dashing about playing "hide and seek" and "king of the castle" with each other, their bleats echoing off the steep rocks.

Rubha nan Tri Chlach (point of the three stones) provided perhaps the only reasonable landing opportunity on this coast, but we decided to push on towards our intended camp for the night.  The map at the link clearly shows the vertical flanks of the pitchstone ridge forming the spine of Eigg, from An Sgurr in the south to Dunan Thalasgair in the north, giving the island its distinctive profile and character.

As the north tip is approached there's a subtle change and the steep rock falls straight into the sea.  Near Sgorr Sgaileach (appropriately, peak of shadows) the skeleton of a boat has been wedged into a cave entrance by the power of the sea.  This is possibly a section of the Puffer "Jennie" which sank after hitting rocks here in 1954 - or maybe part of the "Lythe" which sank whilst trying to retrieve "Jennie's" cargo.  The heavy plates and riveted construction would certainly be right for the way in which puffers were constructed.

Rounding the point we came back out into the evening sunshine which lit the basalt columns of Eilean Thuilm beautifully.  Suddenly, from having paddled a couple of hours in close proximity to the cliffs, the view sprang to widescreen and we were treated to........

.......the rugged outline of Rum and its Norse-named peaks silhouetted in the eye of a brilliant sun. Great "reveals" like this are one of the joys of paddling amongst island groups - a real thrill.  The good visibility across the Sound of Rum was quite a contrast to when Douglas and I last crossed this stretch of water. 

Mike and I were now pretty tired, we'd paddled a fair distance in warm conditions to crack the north of Eigg.  Fortunately, from Sgorr nan Sgaileach it wasn't too far to where we hoped to camp for the night and we still had hours of daylight on a long Hebridean summer evening.

Flags and stones at Kildonnan

We carried our boats well up the beach above the rising tide to give us time to explore Kildonnan.  Behind the beach an area of usually boggy ground was quite dry after a few weeks without rain.  The sword shaped leaves and bright yellow intricate flowers of Yellow Flag Iris (Iris pseudacorus) were well in evidence.  A typical plant of wet ground, the plant has many common names and a few medicinal uses.  Our friend Douglas points out that the Irises on the west coast flower just as the first midges of the summer appear - and he's right - in which case it should perhaps also be known as The Warning Flag"!

As we climbed the slope above the beach the unmistakable outline of the Sgurr of Eigg came into view, surely one of the most easily recognised of Scottish hills.  Mike and I had agreed that it would be great if we could incorporate climbing the hill into our trip.

But that was for another day; ahead of us was the first point of interest for which we'd landed at Kildonnan.......

This finely carved cross stands in a prominent position near the graveyard of Kildonnan.  The "Kil" prefix common in Scottish and Irish place names is an anglicisation of "Cille" meaning a religious cell or chapel. The carving up the cross shaft is foliage representing the tree of life and is still very clear and well preserved.  The head of the cross is missing; the replica at the base is cast in concrete and was copied in part from the Oronsay cross.  The Kildonnan cross is believed to date from the 14th or 15th century and is typical of those produced in Iona around this time.

We wandered from the cross through the graveyard, reading some of the stones as we went, towards the ruined church of Kildonnan.  Donnan was an Irish monk who brought Christianity to Eigg in the 6th century.  He and all his monks were killed in 617 but a new monastic community was founded and flourished until at least the 9th century.  There's no visible remains of the original buildings which would have been of timber and earth with thatched roofs.  The current ruins have elements from the late Middle Ages to the 16th century.

Some of the grave slabs preserved within the church walls date from the 8th century, a very early date.  Interestingly, it seems that Vikings re-used some older burial mounds to inter their own dead from around the 9th century, despite being firmly pagan at that time.

The interior of the church is typically medieval in plan, but with later additions.  After the Reformation the church fell into disuse and the church became a graveyard.  A tradition emerged of Catholic burials in (initially) nine rows inside the walls and then immediately outside the church, with Protestant burials in a graveyard to the south of the church near the cross - it's a tradition which has persisted into modern times.

We left Kildonnan and walked back past the cross, facing out across the sea to the Arisaig shore as it has done for over 800 years.  Though not religious, I find places associated with faith, belief or superstition fascinating.  Exploring the places of interest along a route is, for me, one of the best parts of a sea kayak journey and really adds to the whole experience of a trip.

Kildonnan is a place of real interest and historical significance, well worth a visit and easily accessible on foot form Eigg's main settlement at Galmisdale.  THere's a really good information page here.  If you visit Eigg, try to include it in your exploration.  If you get a stunning day of sunshine with a soundtrack of Skylark song and a profusion of wildflowers underfoot, then so much the better.

Just look around us.....

We landed on a white sand beach on the south side of Port Achad an Aonaich (probably port of the ridge field which describes it well).  This place has a number of names and in summer is popular for Outward Bound camping groups.  If the beach on the south side isn't to your taste, there's an equally beautiful white sand beach on the north side of the point!

We pulled our boats a little way above the high water mark and set up our tents - there's enough space to spread out here if required and the turf makes excellent ground on which to camp - except in wet conditions when the sand below the grass seems to stick to everything.

Having pitched our tents and carried sleeping bags and mattresses up from the boats we paused to take in the view - and what a view it is.  The Small Isles - Eigg, Rum and Muck (Canna isn't visible from here, being hidden behind Rum) lie to the west, while up to the north there was this glorious view of Skye beneath an arcing cloudscape.

The Cuillin ridge is prominent in the centre, lit by the late sunshine with a warm brown glow.  To the right, across Glen Sligachan are Bla Bheinn and a glimpse of Marsco in full sunshine.  To the left the west coast of Skye stretched away into the distance, rendered sharp in the cooling air.

Having made space in the boats, Douglas and I paddled back to the entrance of the North Channel and made a landing on the rocks to collect firewood.  We managed to collect a couple of bags and cut some sections of branch from a bleached dead tree washed up and wedged into the rocks.  This was the second visit I've made to this tree and what's left will require cutting with something bigger than our folding pruning saws!

The wind died completely and the sun began to set as Douglas and I made our way back. For a short while it seemed to us that the world held its breath - the only sounds were the occasional calls of shorebirds.  We slowed right down, it felt right to pause and watch rather than disturb the silence by paddling.

As the sun touched the horizon beyond Ardnamurchan Point a blaze of glorious golden light poured across the still surface of the sea.  Douglas had the vision to turn his camera away from the sunset and captured perfectly this transient and gorgeous light. Rays from the setting sun reached up and fired the base of the clouds.......

.....which began to glow in fiery shades.  We landed on the beach and joined Mike and Lorna who had climbed a little way up the point to get the full widescreen view from Ardnamurchan to Skye and beyond, all backed by the incendiary riot of sunset colour reflecting off the sea.  Lorna summed it up perfectly when she said "Just look around us......right now this is the best view in the world".

We cooked and ate dinner outside the tents, absorbing the view and certainly for my part thinking how incredibly fortunate I am to be able to enjoy experiences such as this.  After diner we gathered on the beach and lit a driftwood fire below the tideline....

...which burned bright as the embers of the sunset finally subsided some hour and a half after the sun dipped below the horizon.  The glow of the fire lit our conversation for several hours afterward as we reflected on the trip so far.  The morning would require just a short paddle, but the forecast was not good as the brief spell of settled October weather would be replaced by the strong wind and rain of an Atlantic low pressure system.

So crystal clear it's hardly there - a summer day on the Sound of Arisaig

The view from Arisaig to Eigg and Rum in the early morning was very fine.  Calm clear weather was forecast for the coming day, deteriorating over the next 24 hours - we would enjoy the best of a short weather window.

We were on the water soon after breakfast, hoping to make a full day's journey on the Sound of Arisaig.  The day would prove to be a riot of colour, the pale eggshell shades of early morning developing to a dazzling royal blue as the sun climbed higher.....

 ..while beneath our boats were shades of green. The white sand  sea bed was lit beautifully, every detail pin-sharp in the calm conditions.  It was a marvellous morning to be out on the water.

The view to the west of Eigg and Rum became sharper as the morning haze burned away. Rum's grand Norse-named hills, Ainshival, Askival, Trollaval and Hallival looked temptingly close.  Memories of a winter journey among the Small Isles with Douglas are still very fresh; places to re-visit soon.

We reluctantly turned away from the view to the west, rounding a small headland riven by channels and rocks.  Duncan and Joan paddled ahead a little to pass through one of the channels and into.....

......a small piece of perfection.  The quality of light in this bay is wonderful in cloudy weather; in glorious summer sunshine it's simply astonishing.  The shadows of our boats on the bottom were clear and sharp through ten metres of water as we entered the bay. As the water shoals towards the white shell sand the shades move from green through turquoise and aquamarine to......

...something with an almost ethereal quality.  Duncan described the water as "so crystal clear it's hardly there", which is about the most perceptive description I've yet heard.  A vote for second breakfast was unanimous!

We shared the beach with just two other folk, a couple who had walked in early and were enjoying a swim and a sunbathe.  I was pleased to see cattle and stirks on the turf above the beach.  Such a stunning spot within relatively easy reach of a road and paddle launch sites will always attract people - as it attracted us.  The pressure on this site from repeated camping by both individuals and groups has become a real problem.  In summer this site can have twenty people camping on it several times a week, some of them individuals but also guided groups of kayakers.  While the attraction is undeniable, the risk of damaging a very special place has reached a tipping point.

In common with several others I know, I choose not to camp here any more- a small way of relieving a bit of the pressure.  Cattle rarely make good companions at a camp site, being both curious and clumsy, plus of course their well-fuelled dunging of the ground.  It may sound a bit elitist, but I hope that the cattle discourage some of the camping.



 

On such a day however, it was impossible to deny the draw of this spot.  Well, white sand beaches had been asked for - and this was just the first!