Wednesday 22nd July: Portpatrick - Girvan

It was a leisurely start to the day, a midday departure being dictated by the start of the ebb tidal stream off Portpatrick. However, I was able to get away a bit earlier than planned as the ebb stream seems to start close inshore about an hour sooner than advertised further out. The forecast sounded pretty foul, with thundery showers - not the sort of conditions I would normally choose, but today there are plenty of opportunities to get off the water at short notice, should the need arise. In case of cold, I wore my drysuit instead of the Chillcheater gear. However, the day turned out fine, so I was doomed to "boil in the bag."

This part of the Galloway coast contains some classicly elegant lighthouses: this one is at Black Head.







Signs of early habitation lie thick on the ground. The OS map indicates one hill-fort after another, and it is not hard to imagine these structures in an earlier age.






From a distance, Craig Laggan (the rock in the left of the photo) looks a bit like an approaching steamer, then a dark-sailed square-rigger, before revealing its true identity.
Emerging from the mist behind the headland, is Ailsa Craig, a glowing pink confection, wreathed in cumulus.




This ancient volcanic plug would dominate the day's paddle, and I found myself speculating on the mythology that must surely accompany such a place. In this light, it has a fairytale quality - and we all know the ghastly nature of fairytales, don't we children? Thoughts of Bluebeard's Castle, the Baba Yaga, and of course, Hänsel and Gretel ran through my mind; with what sinister inhabitants are infant Scots threatened? In the event, there seems to be little to tell - just a bit of cannibalism and incest according to the Wikipedia article.



A very welcome feature of today's paddle was the favourable tidal stream, up to four knots in places. Lobster pot buoys are useful indicators, and this one tells the story vividly.






For a long while, I had been conscious of the sound of powerful engines transmitted through the water and into the hull of the kayak. Now, as I approached Corsewall Point (another fine lighthouse) the Stena Line sea cat steamed, probably in excess of 30 knots, towards the entrance of Loch Ryan, closely followed by another fast ferry and a displacement-mode Sealink vessel.

With a cruising speed of 3 knots, I'm more than a little vulnerable in the presence of these ships. It is most unlikely that I would be seen from the bridge, and their capacity for manoeuvre is constrained. With these thoughts in mind, I paused at Milleur Point and broadcast my first ever Securite call before crossing the mouth of Loch Ryan.
On the far side of the sea loch, the cliffs took on a grander aspect, with many intriguing opportunities for exploration on a future occasion.





Further north, the coastline mellowed, but the approach to Girvan turned into a race with ominously-towering and brown-hued clouds massing over Ailsa Craig. Heavily laden as she is, the boat was starting to surf the wind seas and the wind itself was singing in the paddles before I rounded the breakwater into Girvan harbour.

There is no access from the river to the campsite marked on the OS map, so it is best to land at the sailing club slip immediately to seaward of the coastguard station. The campsite itself is pleasant enough, cheap, but with some annoying idiosyncracies: although the showers are free, you need to buy tokens to get water for laundry or washing up. I can only speculate whether this is a consequence of some strange historic abuse of the facilities, or whether it is humorous Scottish self-mockery.

I've been craving a curry for some while, so treated myself to one at the Pearl Restaurant - the menu includes some unusual dishes and the food was great. Another place to re-visit...