Isle of Mull, July 2001
By Lynne Walker (Official SESK advisor on Scotland)
An alternative view on the trip by Pete VentersA chance conversation with Paul Frost in May led to this informal trip being conceived, planned and executed. North and south of the Border we got in touch with friends who we thought might be interested in paddling the west Mull area in mid July.
Friday 13th July and three of us caught the ferry to Mull. The excuses from the others ranged from work commitments to 'the weather does not look very good'. As we all know, the Met Office has been known to get the forecasts wrong and they did so this time. Once on Mull, we headed for Loch na Keal. Launching here would give us full flexibility - we could go north round Mull, south round Mull or do a complete circuit. Read on for what did actually happen.
The first few days of the trip were generally bright, cool and quite sunny with a light wind.
We left Loch Na Keal and camped the first night on a large, flat grassy area by a sandy beach. The sunset to the north of the Treshnish
Islands was the first of many magnificent ones we saw.
There was no need for an early
departure on the Saturday so we were on the water for about 10am. A break on Gometra showed a benign sea out to the
Treshnish Islands. As we paddled closer to the Treshnish I could hardly contain my excitement, as I had wanted to visit
the islands for years - and here I was! Thanks guys. We circumnavigated all the islands [except the Dutchman's Cap
which is isolated from the main group to the SW]. The views of the hills of Rum, Eigg and Skye on the northern skyline
were wonderful. The fortifications on Cairn a' Burgh Mor led to much debate and various stories were created.
After the tourists had
left Lunga, we landed at the north end. We were not alone as two amateur radio guys were there for a long weekend; they
go round "bagging" islands to broadcast from and were totally oblivious of the fantastic surroundings. We gave Lunga
the land exploration it deserved. We crept up to the puffins on our bellies, only to discover that we could have walked
straight up to them! There were occasional rabbits, some black. It was hard to distinguish between puffin burrows and
rabbit burrows. The puffins were silent, the guillemots and razorbills on their stack were not quiet! The evening sky
over Tiree kept us enchanted for ages. On returning towards the camp past deserted buildings there was a noise like a
tractor engine coming from the walls; we never saw the storm petrels but they are known to come out after dark from
these walls.
A following breeze gave us a
good help across the 10km to Staffa the next day. There was no swell running so we had an easy paddle into Fingal's
Cave; there were also no tourists to take photos of us! We landed at the boat slip and the tide was ideal for lifting
the kayaks out for a lunch stop. Three tourist boats disgorged their cargo during this time so things were getting a
little busy! Time to move on.
The same following breeze and tide took us the next 10km to
Iona and down to the village. Just before landing we passed two other kayakers who were not really interested in passing
the time of day; we later found out that one was French and the other was really nervous! Full use was made of the
facilities - coffee and cake, hair washing, rubbish dumping and all the rest that one does when contact is made with
civilisation. Pete decided to explore the graveyard at the Abbey [booking a place?] while Paul and I went up to the
highest point on the island - Dun I - and on the advice of a couple we met up there washed our faces in the Pool of
Eternal Youth, so I hope that you have all noticed the difference.
Camping on Iona is discouraged
so we found a secluded sandy bay and tucked ourselves in discretely. Our only disturbance was the herd of cattle that
visited just after we had gone to bed. Pete dealt with them by having a quiet word in their ears. The evening occupation
was, again, a walk to a high point to view the sunset to the northwest. Another stunner.
The plan had been to continue round the south coast of Mull but after listening to MarineCall this was changed to heading back along the Wilderness Coast towards Loch na Keal. E force 6 is not the best forecast for the exposed south coast of Mull!
A quick stop at Fionnphort, to post the cards and to check up on the story of Cairn a' Burgh Mor in the Haswell-Smith book. On a rising tide it is always advisable to carry the kayaks up above the level you think it might reach ... Pete saved the day!
The Wilderness Coast of Mull is
often missed out when a circuit of the island is made; it is a stunning paddle and well worth the extra day it would
take for a diversion if you were kayaking round the island. We started off up Bull Hole, surrounded by pink granite. The
north coast of the Ross of Mull was a gentle paddle and then an easy crossing to the Wilderness Coast. The only
unfortunate thing was that it was high tide during our trip along it. It is easier to locate the sights like the Fossil
Tree and McKinnon's Cave at low water. Wild goats, skerries, islets, scenery, waterfalls - it was a real wow!
Inchkenneth is the island where the
Mitford family hung out for a while. We made this our base for the night. The island is not very big so was easy to
explore that evening. Again we sat and watched the sunset from an eerie [a rather precarious one as the rocks fell
straight to the sea]. A breeze at the campsite rose to a strong wind during the night. At least there were no midges
where we were camped.
The forecast in the morning was for E backing NE 4 / 5 / 6 so we decided to stay put. Pete's wrist was also a bit sore so a rest day could help him. It certainly was windy as my washing dried in an hour! The day passed quickly - talking, walking, talking, exploring, talking, watching birds performing tricks, talking. As I have already mentioned, Inchkenneth is not very big; Pete is the editor-in-chief of the guidebook "One hundred and twenty six walks when stormbound on Inchkenneth".
On Wednesday morning it looked okay to paddle to Ulva and so we had breakfast and packed up. As usual, the wind rose but we went anyway. It was actually okay and the pace only picked up when Pete's hat blew off [but it was tied on]. Three salt-stained travellers arrived at Ulva and headed straight for the cafe for coffee and cake. This restored us enough to explore the museum and Sheila's cottage before requiring lunch. Paul and I left Pete and his kayak at Ulva Ferry [he was going to walk back to the vehicles along the road] while we kayaked up Loch Na Keal into a F2. Ben More looked good.
That night we treated ourselves to a campsite [showers etc!] at Ballameanach. Oh no, we got midges! At least we could sit in Paul's van and have a chat over wine and whisky.
For the next stage of the trip
we decided to paddle in the Sound of Mull; this was because the forecast was worsening and Pete still had quite a sore
wrist. We launched at Craignure and headed up to Lochaline for bambiburgers and fossil hunting. Both were a great
success! The next two nights were spent beside a bothy; as this was the midgiest time of the trip we were glad of the
bothy for cooking and evening chats. A beach scavenge led to a good haul of wood. Climbing a 'moderate' carrying an
unstable pile of wood was an interesting experience. The roaring fire was great - the heat led to a bit of stripping
off.
Friday was a day for paddling light
boats. From the bothy we headed for Lismore and up the west coast to Castle Coeffin, across to Glen Sanda superquarry,
and back down the Morven shore. Porpoise, otters, golden eagle and an open-air flushing toilet were spotted this
day.
I also had to confess that we had paddled 35km!
Duart Castle has an excellent tearoom. 10.15am on a wet Saturday morning saw us there, waiting for it to open at 10.30am! Three rounds of scones / cake / soup later and we dragged ourselves out to catch the last of the tide down to Loch Spelve. You definitely do not want to paddle against the tide round Duart Point, especially when full of the spoils of the tearoom. Tidal assistance ensured that we had an easy passage into the Loch; after shifting the sheep we pitched camp and had a second lunch. The three of us then set off for the NE head of the loch, so that Pete could walk back along the road to Craignure, collect the Landrover and have it in position for getting away in reasonable time on the Sunday. Paul and I left him at the head of the loch, intending to go for a circuitous paddle back to the tents. However it rained, the 'clag' was down and so we headed for the camp and a blether.
There are many strings of mussels in
Loch Spelve and, on the Sunday when heading for Pete's Landrover, we spotted a couple of otters. One even surfaced
just between the bows of the kayaks!
It was "Cheerio" to Pete as he loaded up, headed for Lochaline [bambiburger attraction], Edinburgh and then south. Paul and I bounced out of Loch Spelve through a series of standing waves and then caught a back eddy up to Grass Point and Duart Castle. The tearoom had our trade again before we landed at Craignure. This was the end of a great trip.
So what are the lasting memories? Great paddling, easy days in good company, puffins, sunsets, lots of laughs, top-notch scenery, just over 200km covered
Thanks to Paul and Pete for putting up with me, and my 'happy' moments!
