Ardnamurchan, day 3

At low tide my sandy beach became a field of kelp covered boulders- a nightmare to launch from, involving lots of slippery shuttling back and forward with gear. Again low cloud obscured everything, the coast sometimes being invisible from 100 yards away.
There are a few houses scattered along the coast, some in tiny communities such as Fascadale.


Others are remote holiday hideaways.



This is a remote and beautiful coast. Clearer weather would have given views of the Small Isles, but I was happy to be here as it was. The bay between Ockle Point and Rubha Aird Druimnich is particularly craggy and wild. With any weather coming from the north or west this would be a committing place to be in a sea kayak.
I came across some other paddlers. They had come across from the old village of Smirisary. I had considered heading there for another night out, but they reckoned it was busy with campers, so I opted simply to head for Ardtoe and my landing point. The sun was beginning to appear as I came to the glorious beaches around Camas an Lighe.




It was warm enough now to induce me to do some rolling and rescue practice before a short paddle into the entrance to Kentra bay, where there is a handy pier beside the road.



Unfortunately I now had a 6 mile walk back to my car. I hitched a lift part of the way, from a fisherman who had "lost a boat" off Ockle Point. He didn't elaborate, but a fishing boat was lost with all hands near here fairly recently.
The scenery round Kentra bay eased the pain of the walk.



Only a 4 hour drive home from here!

Ardnamurchan, day 2

I left Auliston Point in flat calm again, crossing Loch Sunart to "MacLean's Nose". I don't know who MacLean is, but his nose is certainly enormous. A short haul up the coast is Mingary Castle.


King James IV at one time used this to keep troublesome islanders under control. It's a pretty formidable defensive spot, though from the sea now very well camouflaged.
I stopped for a short break close to Kilchoan, with a view to Ben Hiant.


From this point it was only a few hundred yards to the point where I turned north towards Ardnamurchan Point itself. As I turned the corner the cliffs soared up, the wind freshened, the swell grew and the rain started to pour down. It made for an intimidating passage to the lighthouse. This was a calm day- this coast must be a wild place in more challenging weather.


It took one and a quarter hours to reach the light, and a little longer to reach the shelter of a bay beyond. The lighthouse is now a visitor attraction, but I felt a bit oddly dressed to call in. Instead I moved down the coast a little to Portuairk.


Here I stopped to phone home (an expensive business, remote phones no longer take coins, and reversing the charges is extortionate), and have some lunch. As I strolled along from the phone box, two folks out walking asked me to take a photograph for them. They then commented, "you've got all the gear, you must be a serious walker!" I was still wearing my buoyancy aid and spraydeck.


To be fair, I wasn't carrying my paddle at the time, but I still don't think I look like a walker!
I finally stopped to camp just round the corner from Sanna Bay. It was a delightful sandy beach at high tide. It was still early afternoon, but I felt suitably tired. A short walk took me to the houses at Sanna, with a view back to the lighthouse.





It was a strange evening of mist coming and going. Oddly, another paddler went past at about 9pm.


Was it you?

Ardnamurchan, day 1

It's one of the major geographical landmarks of the UK, as being the most westerly point of the mainland. The Ardnamurchan peninsula also has a narrow "neck" which makes a circumnavigation almost a possibility.
A long weekend and a forecast for light winds had me heading for the tiny village of Salen, which lies on Loch Sunart


The big high pressure over the country had brought warmth and sun to the east coast, but here on the west everything was grey.


Loch Sunart was glassy calm as I headed for the islands of Carna and Oronsay, which mark the offshoot of Loch Teacuis. This is remote from roads, and the narrow channels and fast tides running from it make it a challenging destination for yachts. Even now at neap tides the current was running quickly.



A few boats were hiding among the inlets.
I headed for Auliston Point for the evening. On the OS map this seems important enough to be given capital letters. I thought it would have big views round 270 degrees, but the weather made it a pretty dreich spot. It did, however, have a reasonable supply of firewood. It also, as I started to find out the following night, had a huge number of ticks. I'm still finding them now, 3 days later.


I'd forgotten to take a phone, so my only company was the coastguard and a bottle of wine.