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.