Beach Life - The Winter Edition

 We paddled along the southern shore of Loch Gairloch (a tautological name which translates as Loch of the Short Loch) and took a coffee break at Port Henderson where a narrow strip of sand allows an easy landing on an otherwise bouldery beach.

Of course, when there are so many excellent beaches to savour, it pays to have plenty of hot water for coffee!  We headed north and made the 4km crossing of the outer loch to a beach which is simply known as "Big Sand"...for the most obvious of reasons!  A landing on the broad expanse of warm-coloured sand was followed by another coffee break.  To get these conditions in winter is a rare treat; it was actually pleasantly warm due to the lack of wind, clear sky and our paddling drysuits. An advantage of this winter beach-life is a lack of biting insects and crowds...though it has to be said tha the air temperature was hardly above freezing all day.

As Allan headed out from the beach I took a short video on my phone to show the "widescreen" situation, which is pretty special.

On our paddle back along the north shore of Loch Gairloch we took time to hang out with the local youth - these two young Otters were curious rather than wary, a real treat.

It seemed a shame to end such a superb day as we headed back towards Charlestown but the views to the Torridon hills went some way to compensating for the shortness of daylight.

After packing up at Charlestown we drove out to a spot above Big Sand to watch the sun set over the north of Skye.  It had been a great day and the bonus was returning to our base on Loch Ewe to a warm house, home cooked food and a sports recovery drink - all in all a fine day!

Blown away by Knoydart

The second half of April had some really fine weather with high pressure close by the north of Scotland.  Douglas and I watched the synoptic picture carefully for several days before deciding on a trip starting at Mallaig.  we came from opposite corners of the country but arrived within minutes of each other and after a coffee and croissant from the rather excellent Bakehouse, got our boats packed and set off.

Our plan was initially to paddle up to the head of Loch Nevis for the first camp, but we soon modified that.  High pressure close to rather than over the country can, in certain circumstances give really fine, clear weather but with strong easterly winds - and this was the situation on this week.  Douglas and I both have a healthy respect for the conditions which can be created by this weather pattern; some of our hardest battles have been in easterly winds blowing from a clear blue sky.  Lochs Nevis and Hourn which frame the south and north shores of the Knoydart peninsula both have east-west topography and a short paddle to the entrance of Loch Nevis confirmed that the wind was indeed barrelling down the loch....time for a change of plan!

Our pre-trip planning had factored this in, we had a camp spot in mind for the first evening of three, but first we explored a bit around the entrance to Loch Nevis, climbing above a beach near Rubha Raonuill to get a view of the hills beyond Inverie.

We paddled below the statue of the Virgin Mary in the narrows at the entrance to Loch Nevis, an unusual feature.  Officially known as Our Lady of Knoydart, the statue was erected by the Catholic community in the middle of the 20th century.  It's actually made of GRP and is known locally as "Plastic Mary".  I was surprised to note that the last time I paddled through these narrows was over ten years ago!

We paddled north from the loch entrance and were faced with a difficult choice of which of several lovely beaches to camp on....sea kayaking can have these difficulties sometimes!  Having selected our beach we got the tents up, enjoyed a cup of tea and then set about collecting and sawing down sufficient driftwood for a fire below the rapidly receding tide.  

We were quite pleased with our choice of camp site; a slab of rock forming an arm of the bay gave a super place to watch the sun go down after dinner.

The sunset was relatively brief on this April evening, but what it lacked in duration it made up in intensity - a gorgeous wash spread across the sky.....

....which faded to an intense glow, silhouetting the distant Skye Cuillin.  Our plans may have been blown away by the wind, but we certainly weren't complaining about the way the trip was unfolding!

A perfect pitch

It turned out that our day could and did get better!  The camping spot we'd originally planned on was a few more kilometres up the coast, and given the wind direction we realised that it would be right in the wind.  So when a flash of white sand backed by bright green woodland caught our eye at the back of a small bay, we had to take a look.

Landing near low water we found ourselves in an enclosed bay, sheltered from the wind and in full sunshine.  A few folk were enjoying the late afternoon sunshine, indicating that the bay was fairly accessible, but it did look very promising as a wild camping spot.  Our preference is for fairly remote areas which are little used, but never look a gift horse in the mouth!

As the day visitors started to leave, we pitched our tents, Donny and Douglas pitched on the level turf above the beach itself - where there was even a picnic bench......

Allan and I chose spots in a beautiful wood of birches at the back of the bay which was alive with birdsong.  At the time and in the memory, this felt a perfect pitch.

Once we'd pitched up we wandered the bay, just enjoying the sunshine and the location.  We came across this lovely piece of beach art which must have taken both patience and real creative talent to produce.  Transient and perfect, it would be washed away by the evening's high tide.

Much of the beach was covered in pieces of white "coral" - actually Maerl, a corraline algae which when living is a purplish colour.  When they die, the calcereous remains of Maerl are broken and crushed by wave action, then bleached in the sun to form dazzling white "coral" beaches such as this one.  

A rare and fragile environment, Maerl beds have comprehensive protection, but are at risk from scallop dredging - one pass by a scallop dredger's bottom gear can destroy a bed which might be hundreds of years old.   Loch Carron has some of the best examples of Maerl beds and as a result is protected by designation as a Marine Protected Area (MPA).  

In the wood, Primroses were in flower on sunny banks - perhaps my favourite of the early Spring flowers; such a cheery sight at the back of a long winter.

After dinner we wandered over to the edge of the bay and climbed a rocky outcrop to photograph the setting sun - it was a really lovely evening.

Our fire below the Spring tide mark was lit to get going while we took our photographs and brought snacks and drinks down from the tents.

 Across the sea, beyond Skye and Raasay, the setting sun slipped down to the horizon to end a truly great day on the water.  We sat with a dram by our fire and chatted into a glorious evening.

Note: Since we camped here, the bay and its beach have been featured in a national newspaper and on a well known travel website as "one of the most beautiful and accessible in Scotland".  This is undoubtedly going to increase it's popularity and perfect as it is, we will avoid camping here for the foreseeable future in order to go a small way to reducing future pressure.

The end of a fine Fyne journey

I woke to birdsong and warm sunshine at our camp near Ardlamont Point.  We ate breakfast while enjoying the sights and sounds of the place.

Donny left earlier in his F-RIB than we did in our kayaks, he wanted to get back to the launch point at Kames at a relatively high tide which would considerably reduce the carrying distance with his boat, kit and outboard engine.  It had been great to do another trip with Donny; his film of the journey is here.

After a leisurely breakfast while waiting for the dew to dry off our tents we packed up too and got underway.  We erased all trace of the previous night's fire, which was lit below the Spring high water line.   There was remarkably little plastic washed up here; it's possible somebody has carried out a beach clean.  We scoured the length of the beach and removed the few bits of plastic bottles and a fish-farm feed bag to take away with us. This beach makes a fine camp site, it's one we'll return to in the future.

The paddle back to Kames was remarkable for the very warm and still conditions we experienced.  We sweated profusely even at a slow pace of travel - in March!  We returned to our launch site late morning and packed up - it was the end of a fine Fyne journey.

 Our journey to Inchmarnock and around lower loch Fyne had been comparatively short in distance - we travelled 64km over two half days and two full days, but had been packed with good things, the most important of which was getting out on a multi-day trip again with good friends and in a great location.  The weather had played a big part in the trip and had encouraged us to arrive at camping spots in the mid afternoon rather than cranking out distance; it was a routine which worked very well.

Ordnance Survey 1:50K Landranger maps 62 (North Kintyre and Tarbert) and 63 (Firth of Clyde) cover the area in which we paddled.  We launched from the concrete slipway at Blair's Ferry where there is parking for several cars across the road from the slip.  The slip itself was built during the Second World War for operating landing craft in preparation for the D-Day landings.  The car parking is on concrete slabs which were the vehicle muster and turning area and the imprint of the I Corps insignia can still be made out, pressed into the concrete ramp.

There are no significant tidal streams to be concerned about on this trip, but Ardlamont Point and Inchmarnock can be difficult places to paddle in strong wind, being exposed to most wind directions.  Ardlamont Point in particular can be a challenge.

An evening to savour

The Loch Fyne Light Show started with a distinct softening and warming of the light quality.  We picked up cameras to watch as the sun sank through a cloudbank over the Kintyre shore.

Donny walked to a vantage point on a nearby rock rib to take some video - you can see Donny's film about our trip on his YouTube Channel here.

I joined Donny to get a view with no rocks in the foreground and was rewarded with this lovely path of sunlight beaming across Loch Fyne.

I spent a good twenty minutes just taking it all in; the last two years have seen few trips due to Covid restrictions and work pressures....it was so good just to "be" in the outdoors again, in the moment with a lovely sunset.

The sun dipped below the Kintyre hills and the sky put on a final flourish of gorgeous light....just superb.

As Donny and I wandered back over to join Raymond and Allan at our camp site the light show faded to a pastel finish, but there was one last and beautiful element to come.

After sunset the pale, ethereal light was as gorgeous as the sunset had been, though in a completely different way.  My photographic skills don't do the light quality any justice whatsoever, the softness and opacity of a calm evening.  It's this changing "Solas" (light) which really makes a day.

The temperature dropped after sunset and we got our fire, built well below the Spring high water line, lit and away.

Contained by a few big logs, it soon built a very satisfactory heat with remarkably little refuelling required due to the lack of wind.  We sat around and enjoyed after-dinner treats and the odd dram - life seemed particularly agreeable on this Fyne evening!

A Fyne afternoon for a swim

Replete and refreshed from our second breakfast in Tarbert, we headed south down the Kintyre shore before crossing back to the Argyll shore of Loch Fyne.  Conditions remained absolutely perfect with calm water and warm sunshine - we had to keep reminding ourselves it was still March!

Close by the Argyll shore we landed on the tiny island of Sgat Mor (the name is possibly Big Skate after the fish).  We were delighted to find this tiny shell sand beach on which to take a leg-stretch.  We didn't stay long as the island is home to a colony of Great Black Backed gulls who voiced their displeasure very forcefully.

Sgat Mor has a small navigation light in a tower on the highest point, and for good reason.  It seems to have been a regular shipwreck site and even with the light has seen groundings, the latest in 1994.

Our plan for the day was to reach our intended camp site early in the afternoon so that we could take some time to just enjoy the great weather, rather than cranking out distance.  Soon after leaving Sgat Mor we arrived at a spot we'd scoped on the way past the previous day.  Donny was already there and had enjoyed a doze in the sunshine; you'll be able to see this trip in video on his Youtube site.

We soon had the tents up on a patch of turf above the beach, which was backed with colourful early Gorse and alive with birdsong.  A couple of hours were spent just relaxing, collecting firewood and airing out kit.  As is the way of things, the time slipped by really pleasantly doing, essentially, not a lot.  This is an important part of these journeys for me, when all that's necessary is to keep fed, warm and comfortable all life's other hassles and stresses can be put on hold as doing pretty much nothing takes up all my time.

Our camp looked straight across to the hills of Arran which were in a blue haze.  Strips of sea mist around the north of the island made it appear to be floating above the sea rather than rising from it.

As the afternoon wore on the warmth increased and the light took on a lovely quality.  We were all rather warm in just t-shirts and light trousers and so a swim was debated.....

Donny, Allan and I took the plunge and can report that the water was on the bracing side of refreshing, but that once immersed it was a brilliant experience.  We emerged invigorated and dried off in the warm sunshine.  Only once have I swum in the sea earlier than 25th March and that was in similar conditions in the Sound of Arisaig - in February of 2013!

 After getting dressed and cooking a dinner of  home made Spaghetti Bolognaise courtesy of Raymond, we built the fire using some larger logs to contain and reflect the heat.  The early evening light was promising something special, so we finished all our camp chores and prepared for the light-show.

A noisy morning and a quiet day

I slept fairly well at our first camp site, but only until the first hint of light.  the clear, fluting song of a Blackbird singing solo was the start of the dawn chorus, and was a strikingly beautiful sound in the quiet dawn.  What was neither beautiful or quiet were the many geese, a Raven, a Pheasant and several Oystercatchers who joined in soon afterward, a more discordant dawn chorus would be difficult to imagine!

No matter, it was a lovely morning when we emerged from the tents, and surprisingly there was absolutely no condensation on the tents or the ground - quite unusual for this time of year.  The sunrise was a slow and stately affair, the forecast for overcast and hazy but warm conditions looked pretty accurate.  I never underestimate the privilege of waking up in places like this....we were less than 60km/40 miles from the very centre of Glasgow, Scotland's busiest and most populous city and yet we might have been in another world.

The party would split here; Douglas and Mike would head back to Portencross on the Ayrshire coast, Donny would head off to explore in his F-RIB with the possibility of joining up with us later in the day.  Raymond, Allan and I would head back north into Loch Fyne.  It had been great to catch up with everyone - I've so missed these journeys with good friends during the pandemic.

As we paddled back up the west side of Inchmarnock we were accompanied by the noisy neighbours; a flock of Canada Geese and small groups of Greylag Geese.  They allowed us to get fairly close, then splashed their way airborne in noisy indignation to land just ahead and repeat the process - why they didn't just fly around behind us I've no idea!

This was a strange day of weather; neither cold nor warm, calm with absolutely no wind, dry and with soft-focus light.  I'm sure that the conditions subconsciously affected our pace and energy - we all remarked on being a bit lethargic during the day.

At the mouth of Loch Fyne the Ardlamont buoy sat on top of its reflection, perfectly still

I'd had a very distant view of dolphins - which Donny later confirmed as Common Dolphins.  For some years a lone Common Dolphin nicknamed "Kylie" (as he frequented the Kyles of Bute) had made a permanent home near the buoy and had, it seems, been able to communicate across a species boundary with Harbour Porpoises but there was no sign of him when we paddled past.

Near to Ardlamont Point we heard a familiar high pitched chatter and looked along the cliffs to get a great view of a Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus) arcing out over the water before returning to the crags - a really lovely sight.

I got quite tired paddling during the afternoon, maybe out of practice, maybe the strange weather, and took almost no photographs.  We trimmed our plans to head right up into Loch Fyne and instead headed to a beach recommended by Donny as a potential camp site.  Arriving mid afternoon after meeting up with Donny gave us plenty of time to select the best spot and to gather driftwood for our evening fire.

The wood was very dry and lit immediately, soon developing into quite a hot fire.  Purists can relax, the apparent proximity of the can of Brewdog sports recovery drink to the fire is an effect of the camera - the can (chilled in a nearby burn) was well out of range and no Brewdog was harmed during the making of this blog post.

 Dinner was Allan's excellent Venison Casserole, eaten around a fine fire (a Fyne fire?!).  All of us were tired and we headed to the tents pretty early with the promise of another fine Fyne day to come.