Ice, Ice Baby.....

During a winter which had so far been alternately wet or windy, the chance of some sea kayaking in settled weather had Allan and I regularly checking forecasts in mid January.  As a high pressure system built over the UK we made plans to head to Wester Ross - we were disappointed that neither Lorna or Douglas were able to join us for this short notice trip.

A family connection of Allan and Lorna's kindly allowed us the use of a house overlooking Loch Ewe as a base, which made this winter trip very comfortable indeed.  Allan headed up on a frosty morning, I left later in the day and we met at the house.  The view first thing in the morning was very encouraging as pre-dawn light coloured the sky and reflected off mirror calm water - it looked like we had a fine day ahead.

We drove to Charlestown on Loch Gairloch and loaded our boats on the slipway.  there was frost on the boats which made for chilly fingers.

There was also plenty of ice left by the falling tide.  The water in the harbour at Charlestown was free of any ice so the possibility of sea didn't really register with me as we got ready to get on the water.

After paddling out of the harbour we turned south and for a short while paddled straight into a dazzling low sun with reflections from the water - it was really hard work to see where we were headed!  We'd intended to paddle close to the shore past Badachro and around Eilean Horrisdale, but found a large area of sea ice over a centimetre thick drifting towards us on the ebb tide.

 It was pretty obvious straight away that this was hard ice which was probably drifting in and out on the tide, freezing at low water twice a day.  It was too thick to crash through with the boat or the paddle and was, disconcertingly, moving quite purposefully.  I've experienced this just twice before, once on Loch Long and near Kinlochleven - both occasions in similar prolonged deep frosts.

Manoeuvring a sea kayak in ice even a centimetre thick is difficult and unstable, the paddle has to be crashed through and sometimes glances off, destabilising things.  Add to that ice moving on a tidal flow with the possibility of constrictions and it's not a place to be....coming out of the boat would have serious consequences.  Allan and I reversed away from the ice and found a lead of clear water to take us back out into the open.  Just an hour into our winter day and it was already packed with interest!

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.

Fyne, just fine....

The morning sun on the tent woke me early at our camp on the shore of Loch Fyne.  Up and about, I made breakfast and enjoyed the sunshine on what was clearly going to be a fine Fyne day.

We left our tents up until the last minute as there was quite a bit of condensation from the cool night air, but by 0900 we were packed and ready to carry three kayaks and one F-RIB down the pebble beach to the water.

And what a morning!  Our plan was to head over to Tarbert for second breakfast and we made the 6km crossing of Loch Fyne in idyllic conditions.

To the south the Arran hills were cloud-capped - in fact they had cloud cover throughout the four days we were in the area, even when everywhere else was in bright sunshine.

We stayed on the north side of East Loch Tarbert so that we wouldn't be in the way of the ferry which sails on a very regular route to Portavadie from here.  On this beautiful morning all of the Isle of Cumbrae's passengers seemed to be sat outside to enjoy the weather and we got a cheery wave from some smaller passengers.

Tarbert is in a very strategic position and has a long history.  The name is shared with several other places and indicates a place where boats could be dragged across a narrow isthmus between to bodies of water - from the Old Norse/Gaelic "Tairbert" or draw-boat.

This Tarbert has a narrow neck of land less than 2km wide separating East and West Lochs Tarbert; being able to portage a boat here avoids the long and potentially hazardous passage around the Mull of Kintyre.  The strategic value of the tairbert was demonstrated spectacularly in 1093 when King Magnus "Barelegs" was ceded all the land on the western seaboard of Scotland which could be circumnavigated in a longship.  He sat in his longship as it was dragged from one Loch tarbert to another and so claimed the entire Kintyre peninsula!

The castle was first constructed in the 13th century, subsequently strengthened by Robert Bruce, was captured by James IV from the Lords of the Isles and last changed hands in the 17th century before falling into disuse.

Tarbert is a busy port used by fishing vessels and leisure craft as well as two ferry services.  We looked at landing near the harbour head but the receding tide had left some evil looking mud, so settled for a slip near the yacht club which also has a signboard about the Argyll Sea kayak Trail; this being a prominent stop on the trail.  You can buy shellfish direct from the processor at the top of the ferry slip, so all in all a good place to pause!

We couldn't see where Donny had landed in his F-RIB, he seemed to have disappeared.  The mystery was solved when he strolled around the harbour to meet us having blagged a berth on the best pontoon in the marina - for free - for a couple of hours stopover!

We wandered into town (don't expect a metropolis!) and settled on the excellent Cafe Ca'Dora for second breakfast.  We were just in time before breakfast serving turned to lunch serving and enjoyed an outstanding "Full Scottish" accompanied by great coffee - Cafe Ca'Dora is rated as 12/10 as a sea kayaking food destination by us!

We returned to the slipway and whilst repacking our boats took a closer look at this graceful craft beached at the top.  She's the "Freydis", a 40ft/12 metre replica Viking longship built by volunteers in Tarbert to take part in the annual Loch Fyne Viking festival.  Named after Freydis, daughter of Erik the Red and sister of Leif Erikson, who has various claims to fame in the Norse sagas as an explorer, not all of them savoury!

Sadly, Freydis has seen "better days"; some of her planks are sprung and she'd need some TLC to be seaworthy again, but what a fine Fyne vessel!

 Freydis' dragon prow is particularly impressive, carved from a single piece of wood and adorned with metal "scales" and a fearsome tongue....now, I wonder what a scaled-down version of a dragon prow would look like on a sea kayak?!

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.

A very special induction

The third week of March promised some very fine and warm weather in Scotland.  Having studied the forecasts and checked availability we decided on a sea kayak trip over four days and three nights in the Firth of Clyde and Loch Fyne.  Allan, Raymond and I would start near Tighnabruaich in the West Kyle, Donny would launch his F-RIB from the same spot and Douglas and Mike would kayak from Portencross on the Ayrshire coast to join us for an overnight camp.

Our planning was very flexible, there was no fixed itinerary other than getting out on the water for a journey and to enjoy the fine weather.  From previous knowledge of the area we had several potential wild camp sites in mind for our first night and were able to keep in touch through the day to decide which one would work best for our varied starting points and times.

It's a fair drive from Aberdeenshire to Tighnabruaich, but Allan and I made good time and after stopping for brunch en route we were packing the boats shortly after 1pm - Raymond arrived a few minutes after us from his home near Stirling. We noted Donny's car in the parking area so he was on the water already, a message from Douglas and Mike indicated that they had set off late morning and the weather could not have been better....the plan was coming together!

We paddled south down the West Kyle of Bute and past Ardlamont Point into open water at the mouth of Loch Fyne, it was a cracking day to be on the water.

The slight breeze dropped completely as we crossed to the north end of the island of Inchmarnock - a couple of messages exchanged just as we set off had confirmed our meeting point as the south end of the island where we knew we'd get a good camp site provided that it wasn't inhabited by cattle.

We couldn't quite believe the conditions we paddled in...warm sun on the face, a heat haze and perfect reflections on mirror calm water.  All the more remarkable, conditions were due to be similar for the whole week - and the clocks hadn't even gone forward!

We landed at the shingle spit at the north end of Inchmarnock for coffee and a leg-stretch, greeted by this bright orange Seven Armed Starfish (Luidia ciliaris) which was a very neat colour match with the deck of my Cetus MV.  

"Inchmarnock" means Marnoc's Island and is named for the Celtic monk St Marnoc.  His name appears in several other place names in south west Scotland including the town of Kilmarnock.  Near where we landed a stone "cist" or burial container was excavated to reveal the remains of a Bronze Age lady buried with a jet bead necklace and a finely made dagger.  the remains were carbon dated to about 3500 BC and the lady (subsequently named the "Queen of the Inch") re-interred beneath a heavy glass pane.

Rested and refreshed, we paddled at a relaxed pace down the west side of Inchmarnock, sighting deer and a Peregrine Falcon along the cliffs.  It didn't feel like an afternoon to be rushing along.

In fact, quite the opposite, this was an afternoon to take things very easily and to enjoy the beautiful weather.

A call on the VHF radio from Douglas alerted us that we were just a few hundred metres from the beach above which we'd camp for the night.

Image courtesy of Dr Douglas Wilcox

Douglas took this wonderful panoramic image of Allan, Raymond and I just about to arrive at the camp site; I think it really sums up the day and the superb position.

From the water the position is no less superb, a gently shelving shingle and pebble beach with an area of flat turf above.  This place is sometimes frequented by the herd of Luing cattle which are grazed on Inchmarnock - this breed can be aggressive and don't make good neighbours if camping.  It's their home, so if they're around we go elsewhere to camp!

 After putting up our tents and settling in we joined Douglas, Mike and Donny for dinner around the camp fire.  this early in the Spring there was plenty of driftwood for a fire to be lit below the high water mark.  Raymond, Allan and I had each cooked a fresh meal for one night of this trip - we started this evening with a chilli con carne and rice, accompanied with a glass of red wine - no need to rough it!

This trip was significant for a couple of reasons, the first being that this was the first time we'd been out together for some time, and the first overnight trip of the year for most of us.  The second reason was that all the people on the trip apart from me are retired or semi-retired....and I was imminently to retire.  So, this was a very special induction into the club!

Sat by the fire on a lovely evening in a superb location, sharing a dram with good friends....I think I could get to like this retirement thing! 😊

Short day, short view

Life, work and other things meant that this blog was a little neglected during 2021.  That's not to say that I didn't manage to get out and about though, and there will be some catch-up posts coming in the next few weeks.

Just a couple of days prior to the winter solstice and there isn't much daylight here in Aberdeenshire, realistically six hours is what we get.  When Allan and Lorna and I left our homes in inland Aberdeenshire we were in bright sunshine with temperatures well below zero Celsius.....just 45 minutes drive north to the Moray Firth coast and things were a lot different; very misty conditions and the temperature a couple of degrees above freezing.  With just a light wind and a low swell we decided to set out from Cullen, paddle east to Sandend and return to Cullen.  It's an area we know very well but we took no chances with the visibility and set up a GPS in case things closed in further.

The misty conditions certainly made for an atmospheric journey through the rock stacks which are such a feature of this coast, everything seemed out of scale as towers and rocks loomed out of the mist.  We mentally ticked off known landmarks as we went and had soon warmed up from the chilly start.

The swell was low but long-period and as is typical on this coast had "sets" of two or three much larger swells at regular intervals.  Near to top of the tide this cave-arch doesn't have much headroom, so good timing is a must!

 We took lunch in the tiny harbour at Sandend before heading back around to Cullen.  The mist had started to lift a little and the swell eased to give a leisurely return leg.

An unremarkable paddle of just 13km maybe, but as usual this coast gave plenty of interest, and it was a bonus to be able to get out in our kayaks right on the cusp of the shortest day of the year.

Northerly, severe gale 9......

This week has seen some very stormy conditions around the north of Scotland.  The surf forecasts for the Moray Firth coast were indicating swells of 5 metres/16 feet which is very much higher than the norm.  The Shipping Forecast confirmed the conditions would be lively...."Faroes, Fair Isle, Cromarty...northerly severe gale force 9 occasionally storm 10, heavy snow showers, good becoming poor in showers..." - it was definitely weather worth seeing from safely onshore.

Lorna, Allan and I met at Cullen to take a walk along the shore and experience the weather. We managed to find parking spaces tucked behind buildings in the village otherwise we wouldn't have been able to safely open the doors of the cars! The whole bay was a mass of breaking white water and the wind so strong that walking against it was a considerable effort.  For context, severe gale force 9 winds are between 41-47mph sustained - storm force 10 is 48-55mph sustained.  On the beach it was comfortably in the region of 45mph.

This is the Whale's Mou', a long cave-arch that we regularly sea kayak into and through.  On this day it was receiving huge breaking swells right through - surging up the cobbled beach on the shore side - a sobering view.

Even more impressive was the view of the Bow Fiddle.  This graceful arch is a favourite spot to paddle and to see it like this was a real eye-opener.  The scale shouldn't be underestimated - check the size of the rock in these posts - then look at the height of the waves in this image and the video below!

It was such a wild and spectacular experience - the air was filled with salt spray and on the cliff between Cullen Bay and Portknockie we found it really difficult to stand upright in the strength of the blast which was coming straight from the Arctic, bitingly cold and laden with snow and hail showers. The strength of the wind on this headland, accelerated up the cliff, was just incredible.

In bursts of sunshine the Bow Fiddle was creating its very own rainbow as big swells surged through - the bay in which it stands was a maelstrom of seething surf.

Standing square-on to the weather, the stack of the Craig (actually named "Shitten Craig" from the bird guano which covers it in Spring and Summer) was being battered by the swells.  Early nesting seabirds would have had no chance of remaining in place unfortunately, the whole stack was being covered by solid water at times.  At least this early in the season any birds which lose eggs or nests will be able to start again.

 The outer harbour at Portknockie was doing its job!  Swells hitting the outer wall were being flung high into the air, but the boats in the inner harbour remained snug and safe - the impacts of the biggest of the swells could be heard even above the roaring wind - we wondered at the forces that were being unleashed.....

Allan commented later that it was the first time he'd travelled anywhere specifically to see some weather...we all agreed that it had been a very worthwhile experience!