Canna - Go Anywhere

The two weeks of hot sunshine at the start of the trip seems like a distant mythical dream now.

There’s a fair bit of sun still but rain and drizzle squalls constantly roll in from the west and south-west, the wind determines whether progress is made, or not.

An Laimhrig is Gaelic for ‘anchorage’ or ‘safe haven’ - the name given to the community buildings at Eigg’s harbour. They embrace a café, gift shop, groceries, bike and kayak hire as well as an adjacent building with showers, laundry and drying room.

Since our last visit in 2019 £1.2 million has been spent on upgrading An Laimhrig for the benefit of locals and tourists alike. Reopening last year it certainly offered a safe haven for us and our needs. High tech too, no fiddling with £ coins for showers and laundry, just swipe your card.

All the comforts of home. Hot chips, beer, guide books, maps and mobile reception for wx forecasts.

Looking north-west to the cloud topped mountains of Rum from near the 400m summit of An Sgùrr on Eigg.

With clean bodies, clothes and a food restock we launched for a stormy crossing to Loch Scresort on Rum.
Arriving at high tide we tried to find a wild camp away from the head of the loch. With a ~3m tidal range the shallow rocky shore would dry a long way out at low tide, leaving us dependent on high tide for our departure. There was nowhere. Different geology and vegetation from our previous year lovely camping on machair. A rocky foreshore and rough very tussocky grassland behind, it was like trying to find a tent spot on a button grass plain.

Closing in on the official campground we spotted a patch of sand and although we knew departure would be somewhat tide dependent decided it would have to do. It turned out very ok, easy to get the boat above HW, a short carry and a little day shelter for campers, but at £25 a night a very expensive patch of grass!

The boat dried nicely in the breeze and intermittent sunshine that afternoon enabling a patch to be glassed over a hole we’d put in the hull when leaving Eigg that morning.

Rum’s mountainous skyline dominates the view from just about anywhere around the The Small Isles, they loomed impressively over our camp on the shores of Loch Scresort too. The scramble along the Rum Cuillin ridge attracts the more intrepid walkers and the many low level walk options draw in everyone else. Then there’s the bird watchers. Between 1975 and 1985 82 young white breasted sea eagles from Norway were reintroduced to the island. There’s also a colony of 60,000 pairs of Manx shearwaters.
The island is now owned and managed by NatureScot for long term ecological studies particularly of red deer.

Like much of the rest of the west coast of Scotland, Rum’s indigenous population of ~400 was evicted during the clearances in the early 1800’s to enable sheep grazing and the creation of a sporting estate for the rich English land owners.

Loch Scresort is dominated by Kinloch Castle, built in 1900 it stands as an idiosyncratic testament to extreme wealth. Technologically advanced for the time with a phone system, its own power supply, modern plumbing but also pet alligators in a heated aquarium.

Kinloch Castle is now closed and abandoned. There used be tours of the building and part of it was used as a hostel, where for a premium over the cost of a dorm bunk, bedrooms with four poster beds were available.

Despite being closed and half heartedly fenced off who could resist squeezing through the fencing and peering through the windows?

For some, its grounds for Heritage listing are not so much for architectural merit but more for its representation of a certain type of social lifestyle that existed in the era it was constructed.

Others are not so keen.

Jim Crumley, a Scottish nature writer, described Kinloch Castle as "a monument to… colossal wealth and ego and acquisitive greed… It is a building without a redeeming feature.. a loathsome edifice. It perpetuates only the memory of the worst kind of island lairds… a hideous affront, but nothing that a good fire and subsequent demolition couldn’t rectify".

Me, well I think I’m with Jim.

The following day it was really wet and wild, we weren’t going anywhere even just 11km around the coast to camp at Kilroy beach to save another £25!

The next day though we were at Kilroy for a late lunch contemplating the next 5 or 6kms to Guirdil. Even on the sheltered north-eastern shore of Rum we’d been pushing into a reasonable headwind but
we’d been making good progress
on smooth seas. We knew though that as soon as we rounded the headland west of Kilroy it would be full on, straight into the south-westerly wind, sea and swell. At least the sun was shining.

Looking for a landing spot amongst the rocks on the approach to Guirdil. Bloodstone Hill dominating the skyline.

It wasn’t long though before we were pulling the boat up the steep pebbly beach out of reach of the surging waves. Or at least trying to. With feet slipping in the wet pebbles down towards the sea with every heave of the boat up the beach it was a three steps forward, two steps back effort.

Guirdil bothy (in the photo above) managed by the Mountain Bothies Association looked comfy and well maintained despite high usage, being only a few hours walk from Loch Scresort and the ferry from Mallaig.

Despite its homely comforts we’re generally happier in our tent, the bothy was a lot further away from the kayak too, so we soon set up amongst the ruined settlement next door.

 





Canna beckons on the horizon. Only 4km away we were tempted to cross that afternoon but given the wind and sea it would have been a bit of a battle and Guirdil was such a dramatic and interesting place to be.

A piece of bloodstone with Bloodstone Hill in the background. Sorry for the poor photo, pushing the depth of field capabilities of an iphone camera.

We got chatting to an archaeologist staying in the bothy who told us about bloodstone, (confusing name as it’s jade green in colour not red). Bloodstone was sought after in Neolithic times for axe and arrow heads. Only found at Bloodstone Hill on Rum it was traded throughout the west coast of Scotland.

Despite the forecast 10-15kn south-westerlies it was completely calm in the morning though the wind did pick up a bit as we crossed to Canna.
An easy half an hour or so later and we we bobbing around off the sea stacks Dùn Mòr and Dùn Beag (Gaelic
Mòr = big, Beag = small) surrounded by puffins. The air full of them wizzing past with a frantic whirring of wings, many others floating contentedly around us. The summits of the sea stacks were busy with puffins constantly coming and going from their burrows in the thin layer of soil topping the impressive igneous stacks.


Dùn Mòr and Dùn Beag from the sea.


And the next day from the cliff tops, Rum just visible through the drizzle.


The bombproof anchorage of Canna harbour.



Views from our campsite on Canna. Looking west over the beach where we landed, sse to Rum and east to a rocky prow with Castle No. 11 (Coroghon Castle/Prìosan á Chorra-Dhùin)
perched on its side.



The Canna community shop is only a few minutes walk from our tent. It’s small but well stocked and has free wifi as there’s no mobile reception on the island. Just what we need as the way the forecasts are looking we'll be here for at least a couple of days. The shop, open 24 hours, works on an honesty system. If paying by cash just put your money in the till and help yourself to change, paying by card punch the total into the eftpos machine and swipe.

Returning to camp with full water containers along what is called Saturnino’s path.

The Canna Cafe, we can thoroughly recommend the Canna beef pie!!









Eigg-ed On - A Two Whisky Day

After over two weeks of sublime paddling in hot, settled weather and light easterly quarter winds, it’s about to change. If we had any complaints it would be that it was far too hot at times. It’s been so settled that looking at the forecast has been a bit of a formality. 

The forecast for tomorrow is much the same as it has been for the last couple of weeks but after that the winds are consistently southerly, south-westerly 15kn and up through to early next week. And rain, lots of it!

Camped on Lunga in 2019 we’d been tempted by Coll and Tiree on the horizon to the west and north-west of the Treshnish Isles, a crossing of 13km, but the wind had prevented us getting there. 

This year camped on Lunga again, an easy crossing to Coll was planned for the next day in perfect weather. And it still could have been, but given the windy forecast into the foreseeable future our movements while there would be quite limited and we could potentially be stuck waiting for settled enough weather for the 15km open water crossing back to Ardnamurchan and the mainland.

The washing of bodies and clothes, petrol for the stove and a food stock up planned for Coll and Tiree would have to wait too,. 

So onward then to Kilchoan, the nearest petrol, (we were a bit low) then as we headed west along the  Ardnamurchan coast, shock horror the second headwind of the trip. It soon died away though and by the time we reached the lighthouse on the Point of Ardnamurchan we were bobbing around on glassy seas basking in hot sun. Again.

For the lighthouse nerds. Ardnamurchan lighthouse and keepers cottages were designed and built by Alan Stevenson in 1849, the only light and cottages built in “Egyptian style” in the UK.

With the lighthouse behind us the bow of the kayak crunched into the sand of Sanna Bay and a lovely level patch of machair just above the beach provided yet another fantastic campsite.

With the weather closing in we were anticipating a few days off the water so the aim the next day was to try and get to Eigg, via Muck perhaps, as we knew there were showers, perhaps laundry (we couldn’t remember from 2019) and a shop. Oh and the Eigg Brewery. All of those plus lots of nice walking made Eigg an ideal place to be stuck for a few days. 

It rained a lot during night and wind certainly picked up but not too bad. We had a lazy morning as high tide was about 10, might as well wait until the water was as close to the kayak as possible before dragging it down the beach.

Leaving Sanna at high tide, very windy and wet. 

Off we shot from the beach with just one sail up. Seems a bit windy I thought as we hurtled past the inshore skerries. Aiming for a gap in the outer rocks it was obvious the wind had suddenly picked up. “Do we really want to do this” I said as we viewed the backs of the white caps stretching out to sea. “That’s just what I was thinking” replied Lynne.

Sail down we paddled into a small beach and wondered whether a paddle of less than 2km counted as ‘a day at sea’ therefore deserving of a wee dram. Of course it did. 

Tent up we settled in on another lovely patch of machair appreciating our decision to have a slow morning and late start. Leaving earlier we’d have been out there in open water between Sanna and Muck when the wind picked up.

 

 

 Spot the tent!   

We’d counted 5 cairn-topped hills around us, so after a quick lunch, we set off to walk them all - and hopefully have reception to get updated weather information.

As forecast, by early afternoon the wind dropped a bit, the rain stopped and the sky was a lot brighter. The thought of packing everything up again, dragging the boat to the water, now a long way away at low tide, wasn’t very attractive. The sky brightened further and on emerging from the tent the patches of blue sky to the south clinched it. Eigg-ed on by the flesh pots of Galmisdale we packed and were on the water again by 3:30.

Still far too windy for both sails, but rocketing along under one we headed straight for Eigg 15km away, nervously hoping the break in the weather would last the necessary couple of hours to the boat ramp at Galmisdale. If not we had Muck a few kms downwind to the north-west to run to for shelter. An anxious glance behind us every now and again assured us that although the patches of blue sky had passed the upwind sky was still bright and clear.

Not for long though. Muck disappeared behind a thick band of drizzle from the south or south-west, then Eigg too, another glance behind and we couldn’t see Ardnamurchan either. Visibility dropped to a few kms at best so with no land in sight a glance at the compass every few paddle strokes kept us on course. 

The sea was a mess, a short steep swell from the port quarter, the wind and resultant sea from the starboard quarter and there were other waves in there too that I couldn’t quite make out.

Lynne quipped “It’s just like the west coast of Vancouver Island.” We’d paddled there for days with no land in sight, and I added a few other coastlines we’d ‘enjoyed’ by not being able to see them.

Slowly Eilean Chathastail, the island off Galmisdale emerged from the murk, and by this time the wind had dropped completely so we wallowed slowly towards Eigg in messy slow seas.

Phew, the bow scraped on the concrete boat ramp, we made it. The misty drizzle changed to torrential downpour as we quickly unloaded the boat, assembled the trolley and wheeled it away from the waves surging up the ramp. Now for that wee dram. 

A two whisky day!

Treshnish Isles - Lunga.

Haggis, tatties and veg for dinner.

 

Landing only on the small very rocky shore an hour each side of high tide. 

We love our brown tent, so camouflaged   

You can see the tent in this pic though!

 

Wilderness it ain’t. About 11am the first of the tourist boats arrive, we counted 60 people disembarking from this one alone.

Looking north-ish from Lunga’s summit

Thousands of guillemots call this rock home!

 

Guillemot Rock from the sea.

Gigha via Islay to Colonsay

We found two folding chairs just where we stopped for lunch on Gigha.

 

 Sunset behind the Paps of Jura from our campsite on the north-west of Gigha.

 

Craighouse, Jura. One of our happy places. Third time camping on the front lawn of the Jura Hotel. All needs and desires in one place, showers, washing machines, battery charging, beer, whisky, pub grub and shop. The shop now selling the most delicious sourdough bread too.

Navigating by distillery, all within a stretch of 6km of Islay coast. Oh, and Castle No. 8.

Mull of Oa with the American Monument commemorating some 550 American sailors lost in two separate maritime disasters off Islay in 1918.

Rinns of Islay lighthouse, with wind and tide behind us we crossed from the Mull of Oa to here, 12km in little over an hour. 

Pulling into the sheltered harbour of Portnahaven for lunch.

The daily drudgery of carrying gear up to camp and getting the kayak above the high water mark at Kilchiaran Bay.

Found a natural ‘slipway’ for lunch

Amazing section of coast featuring numerous arches and caves on the north-west coast of Islay.

 Rhuvaal lighthouse.

Native Scottish white rose in the grounds of the lighthouse.

 

This has to be one of our favourite campsites in the world, the red mark is where our tent is pitched, we were here in 2019. Elevated ‘nae midges knoll’ and panoramic views over Port Easdale and Kiloran Bay, Colonsay. We watched an otter diving in the bay shortly after arriving yesterday.