Thursday 6th August: Journey's end

Just as the weather improves, and just as I've entered a sea-kayaking paradise, it's time to bring the trip to a close. I need a few days to prepare for the change of change of career that follows, so it has been clear to me for some time that I'll not be able to make it all the way round Britain this summer. In the event, the end of the trip has been brought forward a little by news of a relative taken ill, so I have some visiting to fit in before September, too.
Colin McWilliams drove down to the campsite this morning to meet me and take me out to breakfast - a lovely guy, and I hope his new kayak coaching/guiding business goes from strength to strength.
There will be some more posts here, as I wrap up some loose ends and record some technical stuff that might be of use to other paddlers contemplating a similar odyssey (kit reviews, etc.).

Meanwhile, thanks:

• to everyone who has been motivating me by following this blog and commenting;
• to all of you who have contributed so generously to Musequality and the MS
  Society (if you were thinking of getting round to it, it's not too late...);
• to all of you who have welcomed me into your homes, and shown so many other kindnesses; and especially
• to my wife, who has supported me with unfailing good grace, despite having all the worry of a husband at sea, and none of the control!

I leave our beautiful coastline, frustratingly, just at the start of Simon Willis' Scottish Sea Kayak Trail, but keen to come back one day and carry on.

Wednesday 5th August: Arduine - Gallanachbeg (near Oban)

Launched in sunshine and gusty conditions, with the promise of more wind to come, and doubled back to Craogh Haven to get a phone signal and call ahead to Oban, where Barry Shaw had kindly arranged the help of his friend Colin McWilliams. From there, across to Luing and north until I entered the tiny inlet south of Torsa, exchanging friendly greetings with the crew of a gaff-rigged Cornish Crabbers Shrimper, and from thence via a narrow, weedy, channel and a short stretch of grade 1 whitewater to the strongly tidal Cuan Sound, which itself discharges into the Firth of Lorn via an impressive set of stoppers and eddy lines. Took shelter in Easedale Sound to land and fix a jammed skeg, and then ran with the Atlantic swell and a F5 south-easterly through the Sound of Insh, north-east towards Oban. To windward, the crags were punctuated with the ruins of several duns and forts, relics of a recent, more violent, history.
Entering the Sound of Kerrera, I spotted another kayak to leeward and paddled across to meet James, who is spending his summer holiday from St.Andrews University paddling the coast from Plymouth. We pulled in at the public slipway by the dive centre at Gallanachbeg (apparently some paddlers have been charged by the dive centre for the use of this slip) where we exchanged news, and from which James continued to the north-east and I landed to pitch camp at the nearby site.

Tuesday 4th August: Tayinloan - Arduine

Launched under grey skies, with a stiff southerly breeze and following seas. Passed ahead of an incoming CalMac ferry at the entrance to West Loch Tarbert, and entered the Sound of Jura. The cloudbase gradually lifted from 150m to unveil a Tolkein-esque landscape of mountains and clouds. In the foreground, patches of sunlight slithered across bracken, rock and heather, revealing in their undulating shapes the topography. All around were mountains and, in the background, the ghosts of greater mountains, gaunt and grey, merging with the lowering clouds. A few yachts crawled, reefed and heeling, across this backdrop, and my boat, unable to surf because of the weight of her load, wallowed and corkscrewed in the short wind-driven seas. Alas, my camera switched itself on inside the pocket of my buoyancy aid and managed to discharge its battery entirely in a frenzy of autofocus-panic, so you'll have to take on trust the drama of the surroundings.
At the north end of Jura, and to the south of Scarba, lies the Strait of Corryvreckan with its notorious tide race and whirlpool. As I approached, keeping well to the east, sunlight lit up the south face of Scarba, scarred with mineralised veins as if having been clawed by a huge cat. Most satisfyingly dramatic.
Passing between Craignish Point and the skerries to westward, with up to 6 knots of tide under me, I was surprised by the apparent benignity of the Dorus Mor. From here, the paddle led into the relatively sheltered conditions east of Shuna. I was convinced for a while of a warship at anchor in Asknish Bay, but the light was playing tricks with my eyes.
Past the marina at Craogh ("Crow", like the bird) Haven and, after 9 hours paddling, I pulled onto the public slipway at Arduine (Ar-doon'-ee), to find that the campsite marked on the OS map ceased to exist three years ago. Fortunately, Keith, a somewhat bemused local householder, let me pitch on his lawn and use the shower.

Monday 3rd August: waiting on weather

I woke to the spasms of the tent on this windswept site. The wind is in the south, and might just about be OK for paddling, but it's not worth the risk. All day the squalls came through, gusting up to F7 according to the anemometer. All night a motor cruiser had been forced to round the island of Gigha repeatedly, having discovered the inadequacy of its anchor...
Met John Shaw, a local paddler of many years' experience, and tapped his local knowledge for the strongly tidal sounds ahead.

Sunday 2nd August: Southend - Tayinloan

The forecast was for W4-5 backing S3-4, so I struck camp and set off. Neil, one of my neighbours on the campsite, helped with the return of keys, and filmed while I battered the trolley wheels into their small gap in the forward tank.





The first sea kayaks for weeks appeared ahead, and turned out to be Lewis and Magda - friends from previous "symposiums" (sea kayak rallies). They had turned back at the Mull because the conditions were bigger than they wanted for a pleasant day trip so, knowing that Lewis is a far better paddler than I am, and suspecting that the same might be true of Magda, I had a few moments of doubt. Still, no harm in taking a look...


Rounding the Mull, I estimated the seas at around 3 metres (so no photos), but they were of long wavelength and so posed little problem. I chose to paddle along the eddy line, avoiding the largest of the overfalls, but staying offshore of the adverse eddy itself.
The sea state quickly settled down, and I made good time, with a favourable southerly wind, and the tide still setting north.













The scenery mellowed, and to seaward the hills of Islay and the Paps of Jura dominated the horizon. I had calculated that a quick dash into the lee of these islands would protect me from the worst sea state if there should be a resumption of the strong westerlies of the last few days.













The campsite, just south-east of Rhunahaorine Point, was scenic, friendly and welcoming, but jaw-droppingly expensive, and you are recommended to boil any drinking water.

Two days of southerly up to F7 are promised so I tied the boat down before turning in.

I've had some news that might mean I have to truncate trip very soon...

Saturday 1st August: waiting on weather

"Aye, wat a night! Ah've been comin' here since Ah wuz a wee kiddie, an' Ah cannae remember a night like it." It had been pretty wild when I climbed into the sleeping bag, but if it had got worse since then, I hadn't noticed. And my Glaswegian neighbour was referring to the gale, not to my snoring.
By morning the weather had turned fine, but a F5 westerly was still blowing, promising uncomfortable conditions on the far side of the Mull. The outlook is for only a one-day weather window on Sunday, so there is no point doing anything other than wait.
Of course, on a trip like this, there is rarely such a thing as just waiting. Today's chores included replacing the jury-rigged tent pole which, I'm proud to say, shrugged off last night's brutal treatment.

There's an easy way to fix a broken pole...








... and there's another way, when you've run out of those neat light alloy sleeves:


















After I had fixed the tent, Tam and I walked up to the site of the old castle - scene of the previously mentioned massacre - from which the views were as follows: