tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-305537072009-11-28T23:24:49.170ZImagine you are at the edge of the sea on a day when it is difficult to say where the land ends and the sea begins and where the sea ends and the sky begins. Sea kayaking lets you explore these and your own boundaries and broadens your horizons. Sea kayaking is the new mountaineering.Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.comBlogger854125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-64724562343688717512009-11-28T23:20:00.002Z2009-11-28T23:24:49.327Z

We paddled from dawn till dusk.

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-47456282826335202682009-11-27T23:26:00.005Z2009-11-27T23:46:02.244Z

As we entered Loch Crinan, the setting sun lit the north shore with a crimson light. The lonely farmhouse of Ardifuir nestles in a bowl in the hills. The agricultural land between it and the sea is a former raised beach.Further into the loch we passed below the ancient walls of Duntrune castle.We entered the shade at the head of the loch and, as we paddled through the yachts in Crinan Bay,I

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-1635635416011753562009-11-26T22:21:00.004Z2009-11-26T22:38:41.556Z

The Sound of Jura, beyond the Dorus Mor, is a beautiful place but the tides still run strongly as the ebb from Loch Craignish mixes with that from the Dorus..Despite her powerful engines, this fishing boat was slewed sideways several times by the strong eddies.The temperature began to drop as the sun...... dipped towards the western horizon, bringing to an end another Glorious Dorus Day.

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-857444210918052872009-11-25T18:33:00.006Z2009-11-25T19:33:09.869Z

From Reisa an t-Sruith we were transported on a tidal conveyor belt across the Sound of Jura.We were propelled through the Dorus Mor at 12km/hr.We broke out into a counter eddy on the north shore of Garbh Reisa and went back for more, several times!Once through the Dorus Mor we were on the home straight to Crinan.To the south, the Paps of Jura soared above the dark rocks of Eilean na Cille.

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-27723881859549058172009-11-24T22:29:00.007Z2009-11-24T23:06:33.457Z

We now were on a course back to the Dorus Mor and Crinan but first we had to clear the north end of tiny Reisa an t-Sruith. Its name means something like the race of the torrent.Initially we were carried north but very quickly the ebb started carrying us south and we just scraped past its north end under the eye of watchful goats. How they got out here I can't imagine. Either goats are very

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-32277703890000386072009-11-23T22:20:00.005Z2009-11-23T23:43:04.465Z

I am currently writing a sea kayaking guidebook book for Pesda Press "Argyll and the South West, Ardnamuchan to the Solway Firth by Sea Kayak. (ISBN 978-1-906095). This is one of the most complex areas of the UK coastline and I am determined that it will be a piece of work which is thoroughly researched, both in terms of previously published information and also of first hand experience.I think I

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-40424797782111720682009-11-21T17:43:00.015Z2009-11-22T22:36:22.090Z

We entered the Corryvreckan in somewhat calmer circumstances than our last visit. Even in windless conditions the flood was bubbling and boiling like a witch's cauldron. The sight and sound of such a huge volume of water rushing by at 18km/hour was quite moving, in fact Phil later described it as a buttock clenching experience.We took the counter eddy (that runs east along the south shore of

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-77373381691278383222009-11-20T22:38:00.007Z2009-11-20T23:31:57.710Z

Common sense would suggest that we should have relaxed on the beach on Scarba's NW coast until near slack water in the Corryvreckan.We were not having any of that, we wanted to see the whirlpool in action!As we paddled down the west coast of Scarba, with Colonsay on the horizon, it gradually dawned on Phil that the only way back, was through the Corryvreckan!As we worked our way down the coast...

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-65115495351275354982009-11-19T17:45:00.008Z2009-11-19T18:34:10.517Z

Tony and Phil carried the boats well above the tide line as we know that there is the possibility of tidal surges here. A tourist RIB roared round the bay en route from the Corryvreckan to the Grey Dogs. These trips bring much needed visitors and money to the local economy.This was a marvellous spot to relax and have lunch.We had a terrific view over the Firth of Lorn to Ben More on Mull.The

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-32029458656412124152009-11-18T18:15:00.006Z2009-11-18T23:05:34.232Z

Looking back at the Grey Dogs, from a distance of over 2km, it all seemed so calm and innocent.To the north the mountains of Mull dominated the distant horizon. The long necklace of islands that make up the Garvellachs and the Black Islands lay in the middle distance and little Guirasdeal and Lunga were in the foreground. What a magnificent playground.We paddled below the dark cliffs of the north

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-722438802223882592009-11-17T12:10:00.007Z2009-11-17T13:21:13.647Z

Leaving the Pool of the Song, we felt another pull. This time it was the pull of the Grey Dogs tidal race. It was spring tides maximum flow and there was not a breath of wind so we could hear the Dogs growling from some way off. Phil said "We are not going through there are we?""Oh no!" said Tony, quite truthfully, as we carefully vetted the Dogs' condition through the south channel before......

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-75380571313190947992009-11-15T11:45:00.010Z2009-11-15T13:37:05.819Z

We broke out of the tide towards the Corryvreckan and entered the Sound of Luing between Scarba and Luing. Kilmory Lodge, which is one of the few houses on Scarba, stood high on the hill side above us.On the other side of the Sound, low lying Luing presents a gentler contrast to the steep hills of Scarba. In the distance, we were preceeded up the Sound by a pod of about 30 bottlenose dolphins,

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-30598587659414196502009-11-14T20:49:00.008Z2009-11-14T22:47:34.519Z

Once ejected from the Dorus Mor, we had to avoid the eddy, which at the the beginning of the flood runs south down the west side of Garbh Reisa.We were not the only ones watching out for eddies. We came across the MV Margaret Sinclair heading in the opposite direction to ourselves. Her twin engines put out 640HP but even so, she did not attempt to run through the Dorus Mor against the full force

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-18847846292395443952009-11-13T20:58:00.008Z2009-11-13T23:13:47.687Z

We paddled out of the shady confines of the hills surrounding Loch Crinan and emerged into a sunlit Sound of Jura.The unmistakable outline of the Paps of Jura defined the horizon to the south west.We were now in the narrowing northern reaches of the Sound of Jura and the full force of the spring tide was accelerating us towards the tidal channel called the Dorus Mor (the Big Door).We were

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-74090193161329330082009-11-13T14:34:00.010Z2009-11-13T18:16:18.260Z

Three full days' paddling over a 4 day trip. We covered 109km, which averages just 36km per day.Day one, Islay to OronsayReturn to IslayCaol Isla: whisky, puffers and paps!Better Days in the Sound of Islay!Navigation and spice in the Sound of Islay.The great caves of Bagh an Da Dhoruis, IslayEnd of the day on Islay.To Oronsay in the sunset.Day two, Oronsay to West ColonsayEnough crank to give

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-61039434338534683622009-11-12T22:38:00.005Z2009-11-12T23:04:44.484Z

On a cold frosty morning in mid October, we found ourselves in Crinan on the west coast of Scotland's long Kintyre peninsula. We had come here because a floating pontoon would allow me to get easy access to the water despite my injured knee.Crinan is the launch point for many peoples' nautical adventures.It is at the north west end of its eponymous canal, which links the Firth of Clyde to the

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-88140460810173938822009-11-11T21:37:00.008Z2009-11-11T22:12:42.941Z

Sadly, it was now time to say farewell to the fabulous islands of Islay, Oronsay, Colonsay and Jura. We stayed out on the observation deck of the MV Hebridean Isles. We were lost in our thoughts of rocky mountains, dazzling sands, raised beaches and caves, ancient buildings and traces of our ancestors which went back 9,000 years!As the ferry made her way down the Sound of Islay, we caught sight

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-28255084228806777632009-11-10T17:23:00.004Z2009-11-10T22:02:10.154Z

We ferry glided across the Sound of Islay to the Islay side once more. The crossing happened at a dizzying rate......and before we knew it we were back in Port Askaig. We had to break out into an eddy to let the MV Eilean Dhiura, the Jura ferry, make her complex approach to her jetty in the full force of the spring ebb tide. The jetty is several hundred yards behind her!All too soon, we were back

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-56680969514739024482009-11-07T21:39:00.001Z2009-11-09T22:49:52.938Z

The SW coast of Jura that faces the Sound of Islay has a very complex structure which reveals several past beach levels. Above the current beach there are numerous sea stacks and the base of a cliff which were cut when sea levels were higher.About 10,000 years ago the beach was at the top of the cliff line. The weight of the ice sheet caused the Earth's crust under Scotland to sink into the magma

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-38783893857391023262009-11-07T19:53:00.005Z2009-11-07T21:54:11.112Z

Once round Rubh' a' Chrois-aoinidh, we had left Loch Tarbert on Jura and now entered the Sound of Islay. We still had 14.5km to go till we reached Port Askaig and there was only two hours until we had to be on the ferry. There was some anxiety within the party. However, our detour round Loch Tarbert had allowed the tide to turn and the ebb would accelerate us down the Sound with time to spare!The

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-78745939796918129042009-11-06T15:46:00.007Z2009-11-06T18:00:07.830Z

We rounded Rubh' a' Bhàillein (rock of the twigs) to witness the splendid prospect of the remote south shore of Loch Tarbert in Jura.A succession of dazzling white strands were backed by a series of raised beaches and cliffs.Behind them all the shapely mass of Beinn Shiantaidh (757m) heaved towards the blue vault of the sky. There are several translations of her Gaelic name but I much prefer "The

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-11812667267840491982009-11-05T19:56:00.005Z2009-11-05T21:19:53.580Z

We had reached half way to the head of Loch Tarbert in Jura. We were by the first of two tidal narrows which restrict access to the inner recesses of the loch. The water here was not very salty and was stained brown by peat but there was no sign of a river.We emerged onto the huge raised beach of Camas Nam Meann which is a favourite spot of mine.The pebbles which make up this beach rise in a huge

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-63214287784922386762009-11-04T17:27:00.007Z2009-11-04T22:39:04.068Z

It might have only have been 9:40am (and we might only have had time for first breakfast) but all four of us reported for launching/photographic duties......and soon the kayaks were afloat and waiting to transport us on a tour of Loch Tarbert, Jura. This must be one of the most beautiful but infrequently visited of all the Scottish sea lochs.We left Ruantallain and travelled east along a line of

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-44215062197272303622009-11-03T23:19:00.004Z2009-11-03T23:32:09.994Z

Slowly the sun rose over the ridge formed by the giant raised beach...... and warmed the sands of Ruantallain.Down on the beach there were fewer midges, so we cooked breakfast beside the kayaks.The beaches at the mouth of Loch Tarbert are like those four on Colonsay and Oronsay, which are ranked in the top 20 Scottish Highland and Island beaches. We had now been on five out of the twenty in the

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30553707.post-11678608246467574932009-11-02T20:00:00.005Z2009-11-03T16:24:05.994Z

Before dawn there was not a breath of wind to disturb Loch Tarbert on Jura. The humidity was very high and condensation was everywhere.The sun had not yet hit the summits of the Paps of Jura and it was still too cold for the midges to make their appearance.Then slowly the Sun's rays shone through the coll between Corra Bheinn (573m) and Beinn Shiantaidh (757m) and warmed its summit slopes. This

Douglas Wilcoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12113557051872905710noreply@blogger.com0