Heading out for a fish supper

While the full lockdown and then the 5-mile travel guidance has been in place sea kayaking has been off the agenda.  But, as the restrictions ease, there's opportunity to get out on the water again.  Lorna, Allan and I met on a sunny afternoon at our usual launch spot at Sandend for a short excursion.

Heading west from Sandend brings great paddling straight away with a series of channels and leads behind rock stacks.  On most days the narrower gaps are inadvisable due to swell surging through, but a combination of low swell and proximity to high water offered the opportunity to paddle all of them.  this particular gap is just shoulder width at its narrowest - but went easily.

It's a great little area to weave through, and full of interest.....

...as well as wildlife.  The last time we were able to kayak here the seabirds were just beginning to scope out the cliffs.  The breeding season is now nearly over, chicks like this Kittiwake (Rissa tridactyla) are well grown and on the way to fledging.  The Moray Firth is rich in seabird colonies and those on this stretch of coast are remarkably relaxed about passing kayakers - provided one moves slowly and quietly there's no agitation at all from the birds.

We continued west and crossed the county boundary from Aberdeenshire into Morayshire before pulling in at our outward destination of Cullen.  A sandy beach in the outer harbour makes for an easy and convenient landing.  we had a particular reason for making Cullen the target of our evening - Allan made a phone call and we walked up to the town's main street.....

...to collect an order of fish and chips from the excellent Linda's Fish & Chips, which we took back down to eat on benches overlooking the harbour; dining out doesn't get much better than this!  Suitably refuelled, we then set out back towards Sandend, but part way back found that we weren't the only ones with eyes on a fish supper.....

Six or seven of the Bottlenose Dolphins for which the Moray Firth is famous treated us to a fairly close pass with much jumping and tail slapping as they hunted their own fish for supper - it's such a treat to share space with these creatures, and seeing them on this first outing back seemed extra special.

What little breeze there was died completely as we approached Sandend making for a tranquil, relaxed end to our evening paddle.  After so long off the water, it was good to be back!

Cast up on Taransay

We took our picnic to Traigh Niosabost (also known as Horgabost), which of all the beaches we visited was by far our favourite and one we returned to several times.  A small campsite nestles in the machair behind the beach, it has a nice atmosphere and a stunning setting.

You can wake up to this view, and really, how could one tire of it?!

A crescent of pale sand, Niosabost faces the Caolas Tharasaigh (Sound of Taransay) and has the stunning colour so typical of this area.  A stroll along the strand gave plenty of interest, and we can report that despite the tropical appearance of the surroundings, the sea temperature was on the refreshing side of cool......

One of the places I'd hoped to visit whilst in Harris was the island of Taransay.  This was a holiday rather than a kayak trip, so my visit would be an acquaint rather than an exploration.  I carried my kayak down the beach and set out across the Caolas Tharasaigh.

My aiming point was a white sand beach near the settlement of Paibeil, facing Niosabost. It's just 3km across the Sound and in calm weather a relaxing paddle.  In rougher conditions though, this stretch of water is a very different prospect.

Taransay has recorded habitation from 300AD, but was probably occupied much earlier than that.  The "ay" suffix is Norse and the name means "Taran's Island".  The most probable source of the the name is that the island was named for St Taran (the Irish St Ternan) who may have established a chapel here.  An alternative is set out by Abbot Adomnan of Iona who stated that Taran may have been a Pictish nobleman.

There were once three main settlements on the island; Raa, Uidh and Paibeil and two chapels at Paibeil, those of St Taran and St Keith.  Women were buried at St Taran and men at St Keith and a tradition stated that if this were reversed there would be a rising of the dead!  The outline of St Keith's chapel can still be seen but St Ternan's has been destroyed by coastal erosion.

In 1853 large rent increases reduced the population of the island, compounded in 1883 when the landlord forbade families to keep livestock, or to grow oats or barley.  Abandoned completely by 1942 then re-inhabited, in 1961 there was just one family remaining on the island and they departed in 1974.

On 1st January Taransay hit the news and television screens worldwide when the "Castaway 2000" series began.  Billed as a social experiment for the new millenium, the concept was that 36 men, women and children would occupy the island for a full year, tasked with building a community.  Arguably the start of the reality TV boom, the show had its controversies but was a rating success.  The "pods" used to house the participants were removed after the series and have been relocated to a number of west coast sites, including Port Mor on the island of Muck.

The island was sold in 2011 to the Kelliher family, who own a large pharmaceutical company and some pretty impressive holiday properties on Harris, and Taransay is now part of their Borve Lodge estate.

Approaching the beach, I was lulled into a relaxed state by the colours and the gentle swell.  A little too late, I realised that the beach was a little steeper than I'd expected and that the swell was actually surging up and across the shore.  I initially did OK in torquing hard on the paddle to avoid being broached or going into a "bongo slide" up the beach.  As the bow ploughed up the sand, the receding swell dropped the stern and I was still struggling to extricate myself from the cockpit when the next, bigger swell broke over the boat, twisted it, filled the cockpit with water and sand and put me off my feet.  Two more waves re-filled the cockpit as I used my hand pump as fast as I could trying to remove enough water to move the boat clear.

Not "Castaway", but I'd certainly been "cast up" on Taransay!  I took out handfuls of sand from the cockpit, and weeks later it was still emerging after every paddle.  My undignified arrival was witnessed only by some Red Deer and an irate Oystercatcher, and what a place to arrive!

The view back across the Caolas Tharasaigh to Harris is sublime, grey hills above a turquoise sea, bounded by the dazzling white line of Luskentyre beach.  I decided straight away that the next time I come to Taransay it will be for a full exploration.

After a break to eat and to absorb the view and the place, I launched with a tiny bit more grace than I'd landed with; heading north towards the thin white line of the Corran Ra.  "Corran" in Gaelic conveys a meaning of something sharp, pointed or crescent shaped, and this remarkable spit certainly fits the bill.

A feature of the Corran Ra is that it receives swells from both north and south; and when they meet the result can be very impressive.  On my approach the conditions and tidal state resulted in lots of surf and noise, but nothing threatening.  My friend Douglas has also experienced the fun which can be had here, but it's definitely a place to avoid in strong winds or a big swell.  On a subsequent windy day  the impact of the swells was both very visible and audible from Harris some 2km away and I estimated the height of the boomers to be over 6 metres.....

I'd intended to land at the inner end of the spit and walk out to the end, but on my approach it was clear that there was a colony of Little Terns nesting so I landed well away from them so as not to cause any disturbance.  Interestingly, another sand spit I've visited recently also had a colony of these uncommon and characterful birds on it, at Eilean Annraidh just off Iona.

Once again, it was the intensity of light which so impressed, the colours a constant amazement.  I'd been so struck by this quality of light the previous time I'd visited Harris, and had been so excited to be returning but a little apprehensive that my memory wouldn't be matched on this visit....I needn't have worried!

A speleological, ornithological, meteorological kind of day (part 2)

Continuing on past the sunny beach where the Stonehaven paddlers were taking lunch, we passed behind a stack and back out towards the open sea through a tall and narrow geo.  We reflcted that things would be very different in here during an easterly gale with a big swell!

A little way north of the geo we entered Old Hall Bay beneath the striking remains of Dunottar Castle.

One of the most dramatically sited of Scottish castles, Dunottar sits atop a headland joined to the coast by a narrow neck of land and is protected on three sides by tall cliffs. It's one of the most photographed of castles, but not from the angle which sea kayakers can see it.  Most of the ruins seen today are from the 15th and 16th centuries, but there's been a fortification here for much longer.

The "Dun" prefix to the place name indicates that this is a very old fortified site; and there was a Pictish fort on this headland from at least the late 400's AD when St Ninian was known to have converted the Pictish rulers to Christianity and established a monastery.  Sacked by the Vikings in AD 900 and rebuilt, Dunottar was attacked again in AD 934 by Aethelstan of Wessex.  Through the 11th, 12th and 13th century Dunnotar changed hands between the English and the Scots at least three times, including being taken by Edward I ("Longshanks") in 1296, and retaken the following year by William Wallace.  This turbulent history is a mark of the strategic importance of Dunottar and its position dominating the north east coast.

Things were a lot more peaceful on the shore where Allan and I took our luncheon - and there was even some warm sunshine - a rare commodity over the past winter!

The pebble shore in Old Hall Bay is, like most others on this stretch of coast, a mix of rock types.  Some will have been washed out in the floods which formed the conglomerate cliffs and some may have been brought down to the sea by the current river systems of the Don and the Dee fourther north.  Richly coloured when washed by the ebbing tide, there was real beauty here.

We'd come as far north as we intended, and after lunch began our leisurely journey back to Catterline.  Back past the geo and around Maiden Kaim, we found another beach on which to land for a short break.

Against a blue sky the lichens on the rock pinnacles behind the shoore were stunningly bright.  A sudden flurry of activity among the birds caused us to look around in time to see a Peregrine Falcon arrowing across the cliffs in a hunting flight.

We met up with some of the paddlers we'd seen on the beach earlier - and it turned out that Allan and I knew two of them, a pleasant meeting.  As we chatted the weather closed in and a fairly heavy rain shower passed over.  With little wind, it was no inconvenience and seemed likely not to last too long.  The full length of the Fowlsheugh cliffs came into view as we rounded Trelung Ness, already beginning to take on a streak of white from the seabird guano.

And there are plenty of seabirds to add to the guano streaks!  The sky above us was simply full of birds, mostly Razorbills and Kittiwakes with Guillemots, Fulmars and Puffins also evident - all coming and going to the cliff faces as they establish their nesting sites.  It pays to wear a hat hereabouts....and not to look upwards too often!

The scale of the cliff is apparent in this image as Allan paddled around a protuding section; it will soon be a real high-rise city of birds.

Below Crawton a small burn launches itself over the cliff edge and forms an attarctive waterfall (unless a strong eastery is blowing, when no water reaches the sea - it's simply blown back over the RSPB car park).  Allan decided to try rinsing his boat before he got off the water!

All too soon we were passing the "wave" rock formation near the entrance to Catterline harbour, just as the sun re-emerged and we finished our speleological, ornithological, meteorological kind of afternoon paddle.

The trip from Catterline to Dunottar and return is a little over 16km, but more distance can be taken if you explore all the cliffs and geos.  Parking is very limited at Catterline and used by Montrose Diving club on Tuesdays and Sundays through the summer.  A one way trip can be done starting or finishing at either Stonehaven or Inverbervie which is a similar distance to the return trip described here. 

The whole coast here is exposed to the North Sea and can get considerable swell and clapotis.  Very calm conditions are recommended if you want to explore the many caves.  Once the birds are nesting (usually late April to July), you should keep well out from the cliffs to avoid disturbance.

A speleological, ornithological, meteorological kind of day (part 1)

Opportunities to paddle the North Sea coast of Aberdeenshire have been fleeting for the last few months as the winter has seen a pattern of easterly and northerly airstreams which create big swells on this east facing coast.  A few days of westerly wind had allowed the swell to drop, offering Allan and I the chance to paddle up the coast from Catterline towards Stonehaven.

Heading north in bright sunshine we soon came to the first of many interesting rock formations - the Garran, which has an arch right through into a bay beyond.

Paddling back out against a stiff breeze funneling in was hard work!

The coast here is a conglomerate rock with rounded pebbles and boulders set in a reddish matrix, a legacy of when this part of Scotland was an arid landscape washed by periodic and devastating floods.  In some places the different flood events can be clearly seen in the cliffs.  The rock is reasonably soft and forms caves, some very large and surprisingly long.......

...and some narrow slots which penetrate the cliffs, often with the boom and roar of surf somewhere in the gloom at the back - there are cave monsters here!

The highest stretch of cliffs are managed by the RSPB as Fowlsheugh reserve, known for the staggering numbers of breeding seabirds.  The birds are just arriving back from a year at sea, beginning to pair up and squabbling over nesting sites.  There's lots of coming and going and plenty of noise.  Once the birds have begun to lay their eggs we keep well out from the cliffs to avoid disturbance and reduce the opportunities for predators to snatch an unguarded egg or chick.

Not all the birds are back yet, but already the cacophony, noise and movement assault the senses.  Out on the water great rafts of Razorbills, Fulmars and Kittiwakes congregate, while their partners on the cliffs squabble over nest sites - the round holes where boulders have fallen out are particularly favoured.  Fowlsheugh is the largest mainland seabird colony in the north east of Scotland, these 60 metre high cliffs form the breeding ground for upwards of 130,000 pairs of birds - mainly Razorbills and Kittiwakes but there are also large numbers of Guillemots and Fulmars and small numbers of Puffins.

At the northern end of the main cliff face there's yet another speleological opportunity, and if this particular one doesn't take your fancy......

....there's plenty more just around the corner!  This slanting cave opens up into a long chamber at right angles within the cliff.

One cave we didn't visit is this one tucked at the back of a long geo.  It has a fine waterfall positioned right over the highest point of the arched mouth and a beach of red pebbles within.  It's a favoured spot for Atlantic Grey Seals to haul out undisturbed and we could see around a hundred animals on the beach, many of them the pups born in November.  Their somewhat otherwordly wailing calls were echoing out of the cave along the walls of the geo; in it's own way this is as good a wildlife spectacle as the seabirds - only not so many folk are lucky enough to have the the opportunity of seeing and hearing it.

Another headland with another cave - this one is actually a tunnel right through the headland.......

...emerging into a bay on the other side of the headland.  The exit appears blocked by rocky walls, but a sharp right turn in a narrow channel leads to open water.  As with all the caves on this coast, safe paddling is limited by the swell.  I've paddled here many times in conditions which didn't even permit going near the entrances.  Although most don't have inward sloping roofs, swell is still greatly amplified in all of them.

One of the options for a lunch stop had been one of the beaches at Tremuda Bay, but it seemed we were far from the only sea kayakers to be enjoying the fine conditions!  A group from Stonehaven Canoe Club were doing a trip and also conducting a beach clean-up.  They'd done a great job of it too, there was no plastic rubbish at all on the two beaches we landed at.

With hardly room to land another boat on the rocky beach, we decided to push on to another lunch spot a little way up the coast.....

Under a perpetual summer sun

Our camp site at Kiloran Bay on Colonsay's west coast had been one of the best; and we woke to another calm and sunny day.  We packed our boats and carried them down to the water, then raked over the ashes of our fire which we'd made below the spring tide high water line.

We set out heading north towards the tip of Colonsay, from where we'd head down the island's east coast.  We were hoping to see some of the Choughs which are resident here, but unfortunately didn't manage to see any of these scarce and charismatic members of the crow family.

The north tip of Colonsay consists of a rocky headland linked to the rest of the island by a slender neck of ground which we wanted to explore for a potential future camping spot.  Finding the correct channel from the west side isn't as simple as it might seem from the map......

...but it was well worth the effort.  Close cropped machair and a choice of landings both from the west and (slightly easier) the east, it would be a good place to stop on future trips.  Recce complete, we paddled around the headland and turned south - initially paddling past the eastern beach.

It was high time for a second breakfast stop....and we had somewhere in mind. Balnahard is a bay of emerald green water backed by golden sand was in full sunshine - just perfect!

Away to the north lay the hills of Mull and the low outline of the Ross of Mull - itself a stunning sea kayaking location.

After second breakfast and coffee Douglas and I took a wander along the shore to check out the remains of SS Wasa, a Swedish ship of 1300 tons which was beached here on 24th May 1920 after having suffered a catastrophic fire whilst steaming about 8 miles west of the Dubh Heartach light.

The weather and  scavenging of the wreck for timber and iron have taken their toll, almost a century on there's little but the keel to be seen.

But even in the little that's left of the Wasa it's possible to see how her keel was constructed in oak and iron.

Whilst enjoying breakfast we'd been entertained by the display and aerobatics of one of the most remarkable migrants to visit Britain.....

Arctic Terns (Sterna paradisea), dazzling white in the bright sunshine, were completing courtship with gifts of sandeels brought by the males and offered to their partners.  The chattering, bowing and aerobatic behaviour is fascinating....but that's not all.

At 25-40cm long and weighing just 85-125 grams, Arctic Terns aren't big or powerful birds.  Their flight is among the most buoyant and graceful in the avian world, their precision as they twist in mid air to snatch small fish from near the surface is a joy to watch.  These amazing birds winter in the Antarctic and breed in the Arctic and sub-Arctic coastal regions including Britain.

The shortest distance between the wintering and breeding grounds of Arctic Terns is around 12,000 miles (19,000 kilometres) - and these birds do the round trip every year of their lives.  An Arctic Tern nesting on the Farne Islands off England's north east coast in 2015 was fitted with a tiny satellite tracker.  The female bird headed south after a successful breeding season and flew down the west coast of Africa, around the Cape of Good Hope into the Indian Ocean to arrive in Antarctica in November 2015.  By the time it returned to the Farne Islands in the Spring of 2016 this individual had clocked up a total of 59,650 miles - equivalent to twice the circumference of the Earth and the longest verified migration journey of any bird.

Given that Arctic Terns live between 15 and 30 years, this means that these incredible long distance voyagers may travel 1.8 million miles (3 million kilometres) during their lifetimes.  The terns need to make these mammoth journeys as they need to find sandeels and small fish which are cyclic in the oceans.  They move with the season - birds in perpetual motion, under a perpetual summer sun......

...and given the weather and the stunning location - we felt as if we might be under a perpetual summer sun too!