Back in the Saddle and through the Bow Fiddle

My last paddle had been in the warmth of Florida.  Whilst the Moray Firth can hardly claim to be as warm, it does offer super sea kayaking.  On a nice summer day, I headed out from the pretty harbour town of Cullen, heading west along the coast. It was good to be back in the boat and I quickly relaxed into a leisurely pace along the sandy shore to where the rocky coastline re-established itself beyond the beach.

This section of the coast has some superb caves.  As a Spring tide was still flooding I left exploration of most of them for the return journey when there would be more water.  This one was intruiging as the only means of access to the bouldery beach beyond appears to be through the cave; the cliffs preventing access from the shore.

The geological showpiece on this part of the Moray Firth coast is the Bow Fiddle, a freestanding rock arch near the village and harbour of Portknockie.  Approaching from the east, the arch is quite hard to make out against the main rock outcrop .

From either the shore or from seaward however, the Bow Fiddle stands out as a graceful arch forming a flying bridge to the main rock stack. It's said to have a resemblance to the bow used to play a fiddle, hence the name.

The passage  through the arch can be either exciting or impossible in bouncy conditions, particularly at the shoreward side where the configuration of cliffs and rocks sets up some really nasty clapotis in an onsore swell. No such problems today though, an easy passage under the 15 metre high roof.

Just around the corner from the Bow fiddle is the harbour of Portknockie, a typical fishing harbour.  There are virtually no boats working from here now but in its heyday this place would have been very busy with boats, fish merchants and all the trades associated with the industry of fish curing.

As if in a nod to these bygone times, a glance to seaward picked out this fine traditional sailing boat.  I followed this boat west past Portknockie, heading west towards the next village along the coast.

A riverside walk in Glen Tanar

Home at last after a long four months working away, the perfect way to settle back in seemed to be a riverside stroll.  After looking at wide and empty horizons for so long, the intimate surroundings of Glen Tanar provided a beautiful contrast.  We started near Bridge o' Ess and walked along the minor road up the glen to the old pack bridge which gives access to a small visitor centre before heading back downstream along the Water of Tanar.

The river is at a low summer level, much different than the brawling spates of late winter when huge boulders can be moved downstream.  The Tanar is born high in the hills which separate Deeside from the Angus Glens and starts life as a typical highland stream before passing through pinewoods to join the River Dee near Aboyne.

 

There are quiet pools in the river in which we saw lots of tiny Brown Trout, and sections of moving water running gently over granite boulders.

 

The late summer flowers were in full bloom - this I think is Creeping Forget-Me-Not (Mysotosis secunda)

A much easier one to identify here, Common Knapweed (Centaurea nigra), also known as "hardheads" and used by generations of small boys  to hit each other with!

Here and there under the birches and alders of the riverbank were small stands of beautiful Bluebells.  the nomenclature is slightly confusing - the "official" name for this plant is Harebell (Campanula rotundifolia) and it is also known as Scottish Bluebell to distinguish it from the slightly smaller and more brilliantly blue flower known here as "English Bluebell".

 Whatever name you use, the fragile beauty of the flowers is a joy.

In a slightly more open area we found the delicate flowers of Herb-Robert ( Geranium robertianum). This plant has a traditional use to treat toothache and nosebleeds, and has an unusual odour of burning rubber when the leaves are crushed, the source of another common name of "stinking bob".

The wildflowers were attracting butterflies too.  Under the more open pinewood we saw several species including several Ringlets (Aphantopus hyperantus).  A recent colonist in the Cairngorms region, the caterpillars of this butterfly feed on grasses rather than specific food plants.

Soon we were back at Bridge o' Ess; it had been a great short walk and the feast of colour and greenery along with the gentle flow of the river had definitely eased the jet lag!

A study into the relationship between sea kayaking and the environment

An idyllic wild camp, it's the stuff of sea kayaking dreams..... but, as the number of sea kayakers increases and more pressure is brought to bear on popular areas, are we damaging the very thing we cherish?  And is our activity as environmentally friendly as we'd wish?

Scotland has a long and beautiful coastline but there does seem to be increasing pressure on "honeypot" areas, some of which are also much used by commercial groups.   One party passing through an area might not have much lasting impact, but the cumulative effect of many parties using the same places may be significant both in terms of the physical environment, and in repeated wildlife disturbance.

If you think this isn't a problem, take a look at this picture, taken at a beautiful and formerly unspoilt wild camp site on the Sound of Arisaig.  The fire ring and burned plastic have appeared in the last year, the damage will take years to heal, and indeed probably never will as the fire ring will be re-used.  The turf above the fire is home to a colony of rare Northern Miner Bees.

A Scottish sea kayaker is undertaking a Masters level study into the relationship between sea kayaking and the environment.  Part of the study is a questionnaire which can be completed by anyone who has kayaked in British waters during 2012.  The questionnaire can be found here - it doesn't take long to complete and every completed survey will contribute to the research. 

Equipment review - "The Sprainer"

I particularly like pieces of kit which are simple, especially if an item can perform more than one function.  For cooking in a non-stick pan on camping or bothy trips I wanted a good spoon which wouldn't scratch the pot. Normally I cook and eat with a MSR titanium spoon which doubles as a tool for maintaining one of my stoves, an MSR Dragonfly, but clearly titanium would damage a non-stick pot.

I also wanted something to help when straining vegetables, rice or pasta in the pan.  I couldn't find anything which fitted the bill properly on either count, lots of Lexan spoons but none big enough to use as a cooking utensil, and all the strainers were to big to carry easily in a rucsac or a boat.  So, I decided to make my own.

A wooden spoon from my local hardware store cost less than a pound.  I cut off about half of the handle, measured so that the spoon would fit inside the non-stick pan but still be long enough to use for cooking with.  Then I used a drill to make a series of holes in the spoon so that I could use it for straining. The longest row of holes are drilled to follow the profile of the pot rim, though it's not really necessary to be so precise!

So here it is the Spoon-Strainer - or "Sprainer"!  I can report that it works rather well, and is a good deal less expensive than some of the alternatives :o)

Around Eilean Shona - but only just!

 Moving on from "Shoe Bay", Douglas and I made our way along the South Channel, staying close to the south coast of Eilean Shona.  This is a great area for watching wildlife from a kayak.....

You are pretty much guaranteed close views of seals, the curious younger animals will follow very closely and can be seen through the clear water as they swim under the boats on inspection passes.  We also saw several Otters and an Eagle in quick succession during this part of the journey.

There is plenty of historical interest here too, our route took us past Eilean Tioram (the dry island) with the atmospheric ruin of Castle Tioram seeming to grow organically from its rocky form.  A tidal island with a rocky outcrop and two accessible small beaches must have been a prime site for operating Birlinns (a light Highland version of the Viking longships) and would have been a natual choice for building a fortification.  The present castle is mediaeval, dating from the 13th or 14th century, but it is fairly certain that there was a fortified site on Eilean Tioram long before that.



 

Douglas and I didn't linger though; we were hopeful of managing to pass through the North Channel before it dried out on the falling tide.   Already we were approaching half tide and though it was neaps, we knew it would be a close run thing.  An spell of hard paddling into a sneaky breeze got us to the tip of Shona Beag from where we could see that there was water most of the way to the ford.  At low water, over a kilometer of sticky mud is exposed either side of the ford - no good for a portage!

We were in luck....  The channel was indeed "closed to shipping" but we had water all the way to the ford and needed to portage only over the ford itself and a couple of meters of mussel shell seabed.  If you  paddle around Eilean Shona, tidal planning will always be a factor.  When I last paddled this channel with Simon and Liz, we planned the passage to drift down gently on the flood tide, enjoying flat calm conditions and autumnal colours.  More recently, Douglas and I were prevented from gaining ground in the channel by a very strong headwind, and had to turn around.

Back on the water at the other side of the ford, we enjoyed a gun-barrel view down the channel to the Sgurr of Eigg.  The time pressure was now off; we could relax and slow the pace.  The North Channel has rocky slopes on either shore and is a really atmospheric place to paddle.

There was very little wind to affect us this time and all too soon we reached the twisting channel leading to the open sea.  From seaward, it seems unlikely that Shona is even an island, the channel entrance is hidden and the rocky heights of the island look to be a continuation of the coast itself.

We paddle north a little way to reach a favourite luncheon spot.  There was a chilly breeze blowing, but nothing like as cold as when we'd lunched here  previously - after I'd taken an unplanned swim!

We took second luncheon of soup accompanied with cheese and houmous wraps, and partook of a small serving of Golden Steadying Liquid to ward off the chill of the breeze.

From here, we paddled south down the cliff-lined west coast of Eilean Shona to complete our circumnavigation. 

On the way back to Ardtoe we heard warnings of gales "imminent".  Once again we'd managed to snatch a superb day on the water in a narrow window of weater - which seemed to have been the way of things in winter 2012-13.

We both had "interesting" journeys home.  Some of the worst snow in northern Scotland is normally in March, and this year was no exception.  Douglas' route took him over the exposed Rannoch Moor in a blizzard.  My route home crosses the spine of Scotland and I listened to the radio in the car as one potential route home after another was closed due to snow.  I had a very difficult time between Grantown on Spey and Tomintoul as the snow whirled down in huge flakes driven by a strong easterly wind, obscuring the road completely at times.  Other drivers did double-takes as I passed with a sea kayak on the roof of the car! 

Safely home and in front of a blazing log fire, I could reflect on a great short journey and the culmination of a marvellous shared winter of exploration on Scotland's west coast.

Douglas will also tell the story of this trip - starting here with a truly pyrotechnic sunset......

A soft sand shuffle in "Shoe Bay"

North of Ardtoe, Douglas and I enjoyed some relaxed rockhopping amongst the channels and outcrops of the coastline until we arrived at Eilean Shona.  This steep sided and craggy island fits into the coastline like a ball and socket, separated from Moidart by narrow tidal channels.  

Our target was "Shoe Bay", but you won't find this name on any conventional map!  If you paddle this stretch, look for a flash of white sand below a rocky outcrop. The bay actually has three entrances at half tide or above.

Clear water above a pure white sand makes for wonderful colour in the water even in overcast conditions.  We paddled steadily in to the tiny beach.........

....where the unofficial name becomes instantly obvious.  The fine white sand is incredibly soft even when it has been exposed by an ebb tide.  One's feet sink in to ankle depth or above - a really strange sensation!  Many, many shoes must have been lost on this gorgeous beach...

Douglas and I made our way up the beach to a grassy knoll above, our deep footprints etched in the sand. We celebrated our arrival on Eilean Shona with a first luncheon of coffee, fruit and a small dram of "The Singleton".  The views were amazing, and all the more enjoyable because, during the previous two months, we'd travelled together along all the visible coastline and islands.
"Shoe Bay" is a hard place to leave, and not just because of the soft sand.  It would have been a pleasure to spend several hours here, but our plan was to circumnavigate Eilean Shona, and we were already behind the tidal schedule - it was time to move on.

All calm in Kentra Bay

 Back in March I met up with Douglas at Glenuig - just a short time after our superb trip around the Small Isles.  This time our intention was to paddle the coast south of Loch Ailort starting at Ardtoe.  It's an area we are both familiar with but as ever there are sections we've not explored.  There was also the chance to link up the trips we'd done over the winter from Ardnamurchan to Arisaig and the Small Isles.

One of the places neither of us had visited is Kentra Bay, a broad and shallow bay which dries completely at low water.  The bay takes its name from the settlement on the shore and is an anglicisation of "Ceann Traigh" (head of the beach) - indicating the sandy expanse at low water.

As we paddled through the narrow entrance into Kentra Bay we were treated to a close view of an Otter fishing in the tide.  This was the first of several Otters we saw during the day, they do seem to be numerous in this area. 

This jetty is at Kentra on the east side of the bay.  It would make a good launch spot except that there is nowhere convenient to park a vehicle, and a notice requests that the jetty be left clear as it is use for local fishing craft.  The stonework was very solid looking and obviously built by craftsmen.  The road from Acharacle to Ardtoe can be seen just above the jetty.  This is a narrow and twisty singletrack with a very steep hill just above Ardtoe.  It also comes with a fearsome warning for summer visitors! There is parking with a 50p per day honesty box at Ardtoe.

 The birch trees on the shore had an early Spring blush of purple on them - these trees carry a purple wash right through the winter.  The water was absolutely flat calm and we felt quite warm in our drysuits.

Winter was far from over though.  The snow on the Rum Cuillin was fresh (it hadn't been there the previous week).  The dark peak to the left of the snowy hills is the distinctive Sgurr of Eigg; both it and the Rum Cuillin felt like old friends after our journey in the Small Isles. The small rocky island is Sgeir Eididh just off Ardtoe.

We were both really glad we'd taken the detour to explore Kentra Bay.  Provided there is sufficient water, it certainly repays a little exploration.  The calm water seemed to suit the ambience of this hidden gem.

Now we turned north, back past Ardtoe towards our next destination, Eilean Shona.

P & H Delphin 155 - a brief impression

During our kayak trip on the Fort George River I was lucky enough to get the chance to paddle the P & H Delphin 155 for a few hours.  My friend Douglas has written a very comprehensive and considered review of the Delphin based on a year of paddling the boat - my brief notes here are merely an impression formed over a few hours on flat water with some tidal stream.

The image above shows the high degree of rocker on the Delphin hull.  This undoubtedly contributes to the boats manoeuvrability.  The appearance of the Delphin has polarised views amongst UK sea kayakers with some seeing it as the way ahead for design, some seeing it as a niche boat for surf and tidal race play, and some finding it ugly and awkward looking.  My view prior to paddling the boat fell into the second group - I thought it was an unusual design aimed squarely at the emerging "park and play" group of kayakers wanting to surf and to play in rough water in tidal races

The cockpit is very comfortable, the seat and backrest being sourced from P & H's parent company (Pyranha's) Connect 30 whitewater set-up.  The cockpit is nice and long making for easy entry and exit.  The backrest is adjusted by ratchets on each side of the cockpit; this was easy to adjust and stayed put.  The thigh grips are also adjustable but this would need to be done before getting on the water.  Footpegs are the familiar P & H twist-lock adjustment, once set these were firm and felt as if they could take some force.  Compared with my own boat (a Tiderace Xcite) the fit seemed to be a little "looser" - in particular the thigh grips didn't give the same feeling of being dialled in to the boat when in hard turning mode.  This could be partially explained by the fact that I didn't customise the fit of the Delphin too much during my short paddle.

This image shows the most distinctive feature of the Delphin on the water - the fact that in normal use the bow is well clear of the water.  Under the forward end of the hull lies a unique hull-form with relatively hard chines and a mid-line V being separated by double concaves.  These features fade out gradually into a flat hull in the mid section before forming into soft chines toward the stern.  All this is obviously designed to help control while surfing whilst being forgiving enough to get back off a wave without too much drama.  The distribution of volume definitely favours the forward end of the boat to help rough water handling.  The hull shape under the bow produces an unusual gurgling from under the boat whilst turning tightly on flat water.

Which brings me to manoeuvrability.  Put simply, this is the most responsive, tightest turning sea kayak I have ever paddled!  The rate at which this boat can turn is more analogous to a river boat than a sea kayak.  A raise of the knee and a slight edge produced a 90 degree turn whilst at cruising speed; a dynamic sweep results in a 180 degree turn with little effort.  Edging felt secure; I managed to put the cockpit rim under water whilst experimenting with braced turns and the boat still felt solid on its edge.  I spent some time using the tightly spaced supports of a road bridge as slalom gates in a tidal stream of approximately 3 knots - the Delphin was an absolute hoot and could be threaded through gaps I wouldn't attempt with many sea kayaks.

When stopping paddling to take photographs, the Delphin habitually veered one way or the other, yet whilst paddling it tracks straight and true.  The skeg is the P & H Mark II skeg which felt light and positive, though I didn't need to use it on my paddle.

There are three hatches (no conventional day hatch).  The rear oval hatch cover was very difficult to get back on once removed - no doubt this will ease with use.  Both the main compartments would hold a good level of kit - but here's the question: would loading this boat compromise the in-water dynamics?  I imagine that a good deal of care would be required if loading the Delphin for a multi-day trip, but the space is certainly available.  The small deck hatch forward of the cockpit is a useful size (I'm a big fan of these small hatches), but isn't completely watertight if submerged - the main compartments were watertight despite the boat being overturned numerous times during wet practice.

                                                                                                                   Image:  Heather Ferris


The Delphin is a really stable boat.  Balance is neutral and the back deck is both the widest point of the boat and also relatively low which aids rolling and made us look good doing balance exercises !  It would make a great boat to instruct from, being very manoeuvrable and forgiving. 

So, do I still think that the Delphin is a niche boat?

Well, I didn't get a chance to surf the boat, but everything I have heard leads me to believe that it is a superb surfing and rough water boat.  It is much more than that though.  It would make a great boat for a novice and would not be quickly outgrown.  It can cruise, could be used for overnight trips, but perhaps for me the most exciting  use for a Delphin would be for rockhopping.

The way this boat can be manoeuvred, edged and turned on the spot, coupled with the tough Corelite construction makes the Delphin potentially the most effective rockhopping weapon available.

My preconceptions have been absolutely changed - the Delphin is a very, very good boat and an exciting as well as an interesting design.  OK, the looks aren't as "elegant" as some boats, but  if you can get past the uncoventional appearance, go for a paddle in one and prepare to have your preconceptions challenged!