Boules - Hebridean style

The 16 kilometre crossing from Colonsay back to the west coast of Jura took a little over two hours of steady paddling, assisted by a light breeze from astern.  As ever on crossings like this the coast towards which we paddled didn't seem to get any nearer for long periods of time despite GPS showing that we were making steady progress.

Gradually the raised beach backing Shian Bay which we were using as an aiming point grew close enough to see the brilliant white streak of sand below it.  Douglas and I had noted Shian as a good campsite on our visit a year previously and knew that we'd find flat ground for the tents, a good landing on sand and fresh water in a nearby burn.

We were pleased that our memory of the place was accurate!  A sweep of brilliant white sand with cropped turf above it, a view out to Colonsay and in full sunshine made for a great place to camp.  Added extras were that the nearby burn had a deep bathing pool with sun-warmed water and there was plenty of driftwood for a fire........

...which we collected while Douglas used his Japanese folding saw to create a satisfying pile of evenly sized logs.  Normally we would light our fire well below the tideline, but at this beach we found a properly constructed fire pit which had clearly been in use for very many years.

We had arrived at Shian and set up camp in the late afternoon so we had plenty of time for relaxation before dinner.  After we'd taken turns bathing in the pool we found all that we needed on the beach for.......

..... a few ends of Hebridean boules! There were more than enough creel buoys washed up on the beach to provide a jack and six quite evenly sized boules - great fun but a pity that there's so many of these plastic buoys littering the beaches around Scotland.

Douglas climbed up to the raised beach behind the bay and found that he could just about get enough elevation to pick up a mobile phone signal from the mast on Colonsay in order to get a weather forecast.  The outlook was for a less settled period from the following day, but for now we knew we'd enjoy a fine evening in this wild and remote spot.

Snakes alive....

We woke at our camp on the Jura shore to a bright morning with a light ENE'ly breeze, just about  perfect weather for a crossing to Colonsay.  Our camp had been on the shore at the left of this image.  Glenbatrick Lodge is on the right, a property owned by Lord Astor and used as a summer house - it's the only real habitation on the entire west coast of Jura.  We kept well away from the house to respect the privacy of anyone staying there, and there's plenty of space to do that.  Up the glen, the iconic Paps of Jura make a striking backdrop.

The previous day had been a fairly long one.  We'd all had long journeys to get to the starting point at Carsaig and had then done a 25Km paddle with a portage across Jura.  A late finish had been rewarded though, we were in a great position to cross to Colonsay and to make our planned camp for the following night.


 

 The first stage of our journey to Colonsay would take us to Rubha an't Sailein - the name is possibly point of the sea-inlet and it's sometimes named as Ruantallain.  We planned to take a leg stretch and a comfort break there prior to the crossing to Colonsay.

 The north shore of Loch Tarbert has more splendid examples of raised beaches - once they're recognised as raised beaches the shape of the land during the ice age can be glimpsed.

 We landed at a sandy beach backed by grassy ground.  This had been considered as a camp site but Douglas was reluctant to camp here, on a previous occasion he'd seen many Adders.  Sam wandered up to take a look at the private bothy, and Maurice and I were following when, just above the beach, I glimpsed movement as I was about to put my foot down on a female Adder.....

The beautifully marked snake had curled into a defensive posture and I just managed to hop aside without standing on her. A relatively small Adder at about 30cm, she stayed stock-still for a few moments before darting into longer grass.  I'm not at all scared of snakes, but we decided not to venture further through the grass as there would likely be others warming up in the morning sunshine.  Adders are Britain's only venomous species of snake, and this was no place to be dealing with a painful bite!

 The crossing from Ruantallain to Oronsay, the tidal island at the south of Colonsay, is 15 km.  A breeze from across our right shoulders and low swell gave perfect kayak sailing conditions, and we enjoyed a great sail with spray bursting from our bows in the bright sunshine.

The sailing rigs meant that we completed the crossing in under two hours at an average speed approaching 8 Km/h, much quicker than if we'd paddled without the sails

 Sam doesn't (yet) have a sail, but with his youth and strength plus a background in marathon paddling he was able to stay with us.  As the breeze was fairly steady, we could drop our speed occasionally in order that we didn't get separated.

We headed straight for a prominent white sand beach, seen from right at the start of the crossing, and gradually it gained detail as we approached.  We were soon in turquoise water with white sand visible beneath the boats.......

 ....pulling around a reef we made first landfall on Oronsay.  We had arrived!  Sea kayaking to a new island is always a special thrill for me, and these islands have been high on my "must do" list for some time.  We found a spot out of the breeze with a view back to the Jura skyline and enjoyed a leisurely luncheon in the warm sun.

 The tide was approaching low water and it was nearly Springs - there was no possibility of paddling between Oronsay and Colonsay as the channel dries to reveal a large expanse of sand.  Besides, the paddle around Oronsay promised to be great.

The east side of the island is largely white sand beach backed by machair - stunning in the bright sunshine.

 At the south of the island we were able to pick our way through a series of rocky channels to gain the west coast.  A deep thrumming noise from astern proved to be a Coastguard helicopter overflying the island.

"G-MCGG" is a Sikorsky S-92 operated by Bristow's on behalf of HM Coastguard, operating from Prestwick in Ayrshire.  With a crew of four and an endurance of over four hours, it's an impressive aircraft.  I reflected that in the worst case, if I'd not avoided that Adder I might have required to be a passenger in her rather than a spectator as she flew over!

A Jura salute for a Jura sunset

By the time we reached the Cumhann Beag (Little narrows) separating the hidden upper part of West Loch Tarbert from the middle part, the tide was running through like a river.  Our plans had been formulated to take advantage of each of the tidal streams we encountered during the journey, or at least planned to avoid paddling against the flow.  We'd also taken the wind direction into account in the wider route we envisaged...after all, our sails could help us!

Turning south west into the middle part of the loch, we headed into a searing early evening sun, the angle above the horizon a reminder that we should push on to find a campsite.  Although the bothy at Cruib Lodge would have made a fine base for the night, it would have left us a prodigious distance to journey on the following day, so we paddled on past towards the Cumhann Mor (big narrows) separating the central part from the wide outer loch.

Although we were keen to reach our camp site, there was a place to explore which simply couldn't be passed by.  The raised beaches near the Cumhann Mor are one of the most remarkable places in Britain, and so remote that most folk wouldn't even know of their existence.

The pebble ridge rises in a series of steps above the present day sea level - relic beaches from a time when the ice pressed down on this part of Scotland and the land was lower.

The top of the ridge is 15 metres above the present high water mark, and the pebbles are left clean and smoothed as if raked....just as they were left when the tide last went out here some 10,000 years ago.  Maurice and Sam hadn't been here previously, and the place had left a lasting impression on me from my previous visit....an remarkable landscape simply not to be missed.

After visiting the raised beach we paddled a short way along the south shore of West Loch Tarbert to another raised beach, this one much lower and backed by a level grassy bank - a good camping spot with fresh water nearby.  As a bonus, the Paps of Jura heaved into view over the glen behind the beach, and the sky was starting to colour with the imminent sunset.....time to get the tents up and dinner on the go.

When it came, the sunset was a show-stopper.  Dipping first beyond the northern headland of Loch Tarbert and then beyond distant Colonsay, the setting sun fired the sky to an intense burnt orange shade.  We saluted it with a dram distilled on the very island where we sat - and there was something extra special about enjoying whisky "in its own place" with such a spectacular view in front of us.

The noticeable drop in light levels as the sun set was followed by......

The effect of an increase in light levels as the sun began to illuminate the sky from below our visible horizon - it really was a sunset (and a dram) to savour.  More subtle than those pyrotechnic sunsets where there's some cloud to catch the light, this was a slow procession of gorgeous shades washing the whole of the western sky.

Well over an hour after sunset, a band of bronze light was still burning on the western horizon, rendering the low outline of Colonsay into sharp relief.  It seemed a long way out into the sea, but there lay tomorrow's destination.  We sat and chatted long into the evening... just enjoying the sense of place in this remote and wild spot.

The Zen beach of West Loch Tarbert

As we paddled into West Loch Tarbert, the sea loch which almost bisects Jura we got a helpful push from a breeze at our backs.  Across on the north side of the loch we could see a huge raised beach system, and we were heading for an even more remarkable example.

The beaches and terraces above the present-day shoreline are a legacy of the last ice age. As the ice sheet melted the immense weight pressing down on the land was released and the land began to rise in a process known as "isostatic rebound".  The north of the UK is still undergoing this process and there's an opposite sinking effect in the south east of the British Isles.  Isostatic changes are quite independent of the major (eustatic) changes in sea level - it's the land itself which is changing level. The resultant landforms such as raised beaches, dry stacks, arches and raised beaches can be be found in many places around the Scottish coast and on many of the islands.

But this beach in West Loch Tarbert is perhaps the most remarkable I've ever visited.  A 750 metre crescent of pebbles rising 15 metres above the current sea level, the scale is quite difficult to convey without a very wide angle camera lens.  

The very top of the beach has a narrow strip of vegetation, mainly heather with some grasses.

Behind the beach is a lochan held back by the pebble ridge; it has no visible outflow and the nearby burn of Abhainn Liundale also disappears into the pebbles- the water reaching the sea by filtering down the beach.  In this image there's a pale line across the pebbles which is one of the tracery of deer tracks heading to and fro.....

...clearly visible if this Google Earth image is enlarged.

The whole beach looks as if it has been recently raked over, the pebbles are uniform and the surface smooth.  On the slope above the lochan there are a number of strange circular or oval patches of heather, arranged as if the whole beach were a vast Zen garden - and that's the feeling I had whilst wandering around.

Douglas captured the sense of the place during a previous visit in this image from above the beach and this one using a wide angle lens - in my opinion two of the most striking images from his very large portfolio.

From a distance the beaches look ash grey, while close up the water washed pebbles seem to have little variation - they are left just as they were at the last high tide several thousand years ago - a remarkable relic.

But down on the present-day high water mark a hidden beauty is revealed....

as the little waves rushing over the pebbles recede....

...to reveal a subtle palette of greens purples and browns, a reflection of the landscape from which the pebbles have been drawn.

I left this beach with a feeling of having been in a unique and special place, perhaps all the more a privilege due to the difficulty of getting to it.  With an atmosphere all it's own, the "Zen beach" of West Loch Tarbert is a truly amazing place. 

Small sails and tall sails on the west coast of Jura

From Shian Bay we continued south along the coast towards the mouth of Loch Tarbert, the large west-facing sea loch which almost bisects the island of Jura

The light breeze helped us along a coast full of interest

Towards Rubh an t-Sailein (point of the inlet) at the northern side of the mouth of Loch Tarbert the hills recede and the shoreline is littered with remnant basalt dykes.  From a distance these looked like chortens built on a huge scale.

Ahead, the Paps of Jura were coming into view and would be our companions for the next two days.  There's a bothy near the point but it was still early and we had a different destination in mind. And anyway, the afternoon sun was high and warm, the sea sparkling.......

......and occasionally stunning aquamarine shades as variety to the blue.  What a place this was to sea kayak!

We passed small beaches squezzed between the walls of dry coves; pretty much inaccessible from the landward side.

Ours were not the only sails in use off Jura that day, a fine looking tall ship was emerging from the Sound of Islay on the flood tide, making good progress under a minimum of sail. 

She's the "Stavros S. Niarchos", a 60 metre, 635 tonne brig (a two masted sailing ship with square sails on each mast).  She can carry 18 sails with a total sail area of 1,162 square metres - slightly more area than our 0.8 square metre Flat Earth Kayak Sails!

The Stavros Niarchos is owned and operated by the Tall Ships Youth Trust, and is used for sail training and also for voyages by fare-paying crew which help to subsidise the work of the trust.  Despite her very traditional looks, Stavros Niarchos is a comparatively new vessel, being completed and entering service in 2000.  She made a really fine sight on a sparkling sea against the Islay shore.

As we crossed the mouth of Loch Tarbert we could look over our shoulders to a huge raised beach on the northern shore of the outer loch.  We could clearly see what the coastline must have looked like at the end of the last Ice Age with pebble beaches and rocky inlets.

Once across the entrance to Loch Tarbert we could slow our pace.  The flood tide which had carried the Stavros Niarchos through the Sound of Islay had some time to run, and we planned to use the ebb to speed our own passage once the tide turned.  Time for a leg stretch on a little sandy beach which would be a stand-out spot in many places, but here on the coast of Jura was just one of many glorious beaches.

We'd enjoyed a superb paddle already, and it was still only early afternoon - explored the wild and lonely NW coast of Jura in superb weather; and if anything the features on this wonderful coast were about to get even better!

The wild and lonely coast of north west Jura

 We slept well in Glengarrisdale bothy, rising early to a sparkling Spring morning. After breakfast we cleaned out the bothy and laid the firewood ready for the next occupants before saying our goodbyes to Tom and Frances.  Our Iindispensable Kayak Expedition Accessory bags were carried down to the boats - lighter by some food, firewood and a couple of containers of sports recovery drinks each.

 We set out onto a flat calm sea under a cloudless sky of intense blue - the colours of the land fairly zinging in the clear air.

 The northwest of Jura is a wild and lonely coast. Whether on foot or on the water one needs to be self-reliant as well as self-propelled as no paths penetrate the area for a full 25 kilometres of coastline, moor and hill.  Often beset by heavy swell and bad weather, we felt privileged to be able to experience this special place in such benign conditions.

A short distance out from Glengarrisdale we passed the first of several mimetoliths encountered on this side of the island - promptly christened "Iguana Rock" !

 Fifteen kilometres distant, the island of Colonsay lay low on the western horizon.  Our plans had included the possibility of crossing to Colonsay to explore a little of its east coast.  At the fireside planning session the previous evening we'd voted unanimously that both Jura and Colonsay deserved longer exploration than the weather window of around four days we had available - and therefore that we'd stay on the Jura coast and save Colonsay for a future venture rather than paddling out to "tick" the crossing - it was an easy decision to make.

 Headland after headland of wild coastline lay ahead of us awaiting exploration.  The underlying rock of Jura is mainly metamorphic quartzite; in fact it's the largest area of this rock north of the Highland Boundary Fault and shows up on the coast in beaches of bone white pebbles.  A characteristic of quartzite is that it produces poor, peaty soils and rough terrain pretty unsuitable for agriculture.  Only on the east side of the island is the quartzite varied by a narrow strip of schist which breaks down to much more fertile and abundant soil and that's where almost all the population (and the distillery) are.  The prevalence of metamorphic quartzite is part of the reason why there are some 6000 Red Deer and only 200 people on Jura, the eighth largest of the Scottish islands but one of the most sparsely populated.

 Along with there are numerous wild goats and we saw small groups right along the shore and above on seemingly inaccessible cliffs - animals completely at home in their environment.

We paddled at a very relaxed pace, taking time to absorb the view and the situation.  The first of a series of raised beaches came into view, the level of the shore at the end of the last Ice Age.  Since then the land has been rebounding from the release of the ice sheet in a process known as isostatic rebound, we could trace the former high water mark along lengthy sections of the coast.  What a place this was to sea kayak!