[TR] Sea Lochs of Mull

Paddling the Sea Lochs of Mull

Our plan was to paddle around the west coast of Mull, stopping on remote beaches and camping under the stars. However, like most trips things didn't go quite to plan.The weather forecast had looked really bad before we left home so we were pleasantly surprised when we reached the ferry in Oban in the beautiful sunshine with calm seas in front of us. After paying the £60 for a return ticket to Mull, we stood on the deck of the Caledonian ferry looking out over the water, when it suddenly dawned on us for the first time, just how tiny our canoe really was and how far we had crazily planned to paddle.For our first night we had pre-booked a small guesthouse called Barn Cottage in Gruiline, only £19 a night B&B. It was surrounded by woodland and only a mile away from Loch Na Keal where we'd planned to launch our canoe and start our adventure the following day. Mrs Babbington who ran the guesthouse was great. She offered to take us and the boat down to the loch in her landrover and even said we could leave our car in the safety of her grounds whilst we were off paddling. I thought that was so nice. The following morning we were up at 6.30am and having ordered a late breakfast we decided to explore a little of the island on foot. We walked towards Loch Na Keal along a leafy single-track lane where we heard woodpeckers hammering away and saw an agile sparrowhawk darting in and out of the hedge in front of us. The loch, which is about 6 miles long, soon came into view and so did or first problem. We were hoping for a beautiful calm millpond instead we found a spitting, bubbling cauldron of white spray and huge waves. A quick call to the coastguard and our fears were confirmed - force 5-6 winds increasing to force 7 in the open sea towards Ulva where we had hoped to spend the first night camping. There's a number to call regarding camping on Ulva; they openly welcome you as long as you let them know you're coming.
Slightly disheartened at being told the bad weather was due to last several days, we carried on our walk along the loch. However, it wasn't long before a black dot appeared through the clouds and all thoughts of canoeing disappeared. It was high above us but the shape, stubby tail, huge broad wings, was unmistakeable -our first Sea Eagle. It got closer and closer and soon we could see its pure white tail and huge talons as it lunged for something just out of view. Contrary to popular belief these birds are larger than the Golden Eagle, with wing spans of just under two and half meters. I still can't get over the sheer majestic nature and presence of these birds. With smiles on our faces we walked back to the guesthouse. Over breakfast (which was so huge it took over an hour to eat all the courses) we decided to forget camping and spend all our evenings warm and dry at the B&B and settle for canoe day trips instead.That afternoon and the following day we spent driving around the rest of the island doing the touristy bit, Tobermory and Iona and getting just the briefest view of a Golden Eagle above Glen Mor. Thankfully on the third day there was a break in the weather and we headed off for Loch Scridain. What a magnificent location with Ben Mor towering 966 meters above us and 8 miles of slightly choppy water to explore. With our packed lunch and flask secured nicely in the canoe we left dry land for a full day on the water. The first part of the loch near Pennyghael is a series of tiny islands, which acted like a maze when we tried to navigate our way through them. Around this area the water does drop considerably when the tide goes out so its well worth checking tide tables first to make the most of it. It is said that Loch Scridain was carved out of the mountains by the devil who, when having an argument with someone on top of Ben Mor, was defeated and was pushed over the edge of the cliff. As he bounced down the hillside, ledges appeared where he fell, and his final fall at the base of the mountain caused such a cleft that the sea rushed in, thereby creating the loch. He must have been a huge devil! As we paddled along we realised this place is a birdwatchers paradise. There was everything from guillemots to hen harriers, something different everywhere we looked. Then, in the distance, I noticed what looked like a plastic grocery bag floating in the water. I grabbed the binoculars and to my amazement saw, coming straight towards the boat, a little Auk (no not the lord of the rings type, now that would have been an interesting tale to tell) but a tiny black and white penguin- looking thing. You should have seen me desperately trying to catch hubby's attention whilst trying not to startle the little thing. Eventually a subtle nudge with my paddle did the trick and we sat in wonder as this amazing little bird bobbed past the boat so close I could have scooped him up in my hand. I'd only ever seen photo's of them in books before, so this was truly amazing. As we paddled back to shore, we got the feeling we were being followed. Looking back we saw 3 inquisitive young otters following the canoe. They came within about 8 foot of the boat and were fantastic to watch, as they rolled, dived and played in the water around us. I was hoping to see one of them do the oyster shell-breaking thing on their belly but I think they were way too busy working out what we were doing, for stuff like that.
The following day we were up extremely early again and saw the sun rise as we walked towards Loch Ba about 30 minutes from the B&B. I would have liked to have paddled this loch but the landowner was a keen fisherman and I'd heard he didn't really like people using his land to launch boats so we decided to leave it. It was worth the walk there though as I saw a barn owl, a tawny owl, a herd of deer including an albino calf and a huge stag. I even spotted 2 sea eagles (might have been the same one twice though) all in a matter of minutes.After breakfast we drove up to Calgary Bay towards the north of the island. This has to be one of the most beautiful places in Scotland. With its golden sands and turquoise waters it could easily be mistaken for the Caribbean; well, apart from the temperature and the odd highland cow that is. Feeling Lazy, I decided to use my newly acquired canoe wheels to portage down to the water's edge. Is it me or do these wheels have a mind of their own? In the shop it sounded so simple, the instructions were straightforward but the actual doing it was impossible. I tied the canoe on as the diagram showed and for a few yards it was great but as soon as I hit a tiny bump the wheels twisted and I had to start all over again. It took ages to reach the water, which was only 200 yards from the car park. If anyone has any tips on using wheels over rough ground I'd love to hear them. Anyway, by the time we reached the water, the wind had started to pick up but the tide was coming in so we decided to risk it and launch the canoe. If fact I decided hubby should go out in the canoe and let me take some photographs of him surrounded by this stunning landscape. What a mistake! Within minutes I could see he was getting into difficulty. The wind was dragging him quickly out to sea so I started shouting and waving my arms to get him to come back to shore. Unfortunately, he thought I was shouting directions for the photographs and carried on paddling. Within 5 minutes he was a speck on the horizon. The wind was swirling and getting stronger and I was left on the beach totally helpless. I watched him struggle and get so far in then the wind would pick up and he'd be even further out than before. We were well-equipped with buoyancy aids, airbags and flares in the boat but neither of us had the experience for anything like this. Part of me wanted to swim out to him as I know two of us in the boat would get to shore easily but I also knew the chances of being swept out to sea and missing the canoe was too big a risk to take. For 40 minutes he struggled to get to dry land then finally he made it. I saw him in the distance stumble out of the canoe and collapse on the beach. For 20 minutes he lay there before he found the energy to move. It kept running through my mind all those nights I'd sat home alone wishing he wasn't spending so much time at the gym, now was so thankful that he had. As I made my way along the beach to where he lay, a beautiful male peregrine falcon flew over head. I was about to shout out and tell hubby but somehow I know he wouldn't have cared. After a long lunch and a huge reality check in the safety of canoeing on the sea we decided to head off to Loch Spelve, a sheltered loch at the south east side of the island. It's only about 4 miles long and 2 miles wide with a small part taken up by fisheries, which is best avoided, but the rest of it is stunning. It was like a millpond and just what we needed. A grey seal came up and had a good sniff around the boat then two red throated divers came into view (the feathery sort). I was so engrossed in taking photographs of the incredible landscape and the wildlife that the sun had almost set by the time we reached the shore. That evening, which was our last on the island, we spent sharing a bottle of wine on the banks of Loch Na Keal. I know we didn't do all the paddling we had planned but it was still a wonderful few days and it gives us a good excuse to return to the island and do it all again.

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[TR] Loch Ericht, Scotland

Knowing When to Turn Back

In my mind I had the image of a lake full of reflections, surrounded by snow covered mountains and clear blue skies above. My boat would glide forever with a single stroke, leaving me free to take the most wonderful and inspiring photographs I could ever dream of.
“You must be mad”, “you’ve not been to Scotland in winter before then!” Were the comments I got when I excitedly announced my latest trip to colleagues. I’d checked the 10 day weather forecast and it all seemed fine. So excitedly I got in the car with Al, for the 400 mile drive up to Scotland. We were heading for Loch Ericht, right in the heart of the Scottish wilderness. There was a little bit of snow on the hills to start off with but as we made our way through the highlands and darkness fell, the snow started to fall heavily. By the time we reached the Drumochter Pass on the A9, visibility was poor. The car was starting to slide all over the road and things where getting quite scary, when a faint light shone through the blizzard and the letters B&B appeared. It was a bit like one of those corny movie moments when help appears from nowhere but just when you thought you where safe a huge monster comes out and eats you! Thankfully we saw no monsters but we still had 200 meters of deep un-snowploughed road to get through before we finally reached the warmth and safety of the Balsporron Cottages B&B. We were greeted by Ann and Phil who made us feel right at home in front of their real log fire and even made us a very welcome hot meal. After a lovely night’s sleep we were up early, ate breakfast and headed outside to an incredible snow-covered landscape. Everyone helped to dig the car out and once back on the A9 the road was clear and we were only a few of miles from Loch Ericht itself. Ann kindly printed out an up to date forecast for us which took us slightly by surprise. 35mph winds with gusts up to 70 and snow was forecast for the next two days and I guess if we’d had any sense we would have turned back then, but we’d driven so far, taken time off work, spent all that money on petrol and there wasn’t a breeze in the air, so we decided to carry on. We left our car just behind the Petrol Station in Dalwhinney where the guide book suggested and loaded up my brand new Wenonah Prospector canoe. We then made the 600 meter portage down the lane under the railway bridge, through the barrier and down to the lochs edge. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to drag a fully laden boat over snow by myself.
At only 14.5miles long, I’d given us a couple of days to complete the round trip of Loch Ericht with the highlights being a nights stay at the famous Ben Alder bothy and a visit to Bonnie Prince Charlies caves at the furthest end. The sky was grey and it was bitterly cold but even at the lochs side the wind was barely noticeable. So off we went, all wrapped up in the latest winter gear, paddling past huge lumps of ice floating in the water, hoping to reach Ben Alder by teatime.
We’d only been paddling fifteen minutes when we passed the first headland and the full force of the weather hit us. It was blowing a hoolie out there on the main part of the loch and it took all our strength just to stay head on to the waves. Being sensible we should have turned back there and then but we didn’t. As the weather got even worse and we started to tire we realised that we had no choice but to continue as both sides of the loch where by now, too steep for a safe get out, with such big waves breaking on them. The sun was disappearing fast behind the mountains and the temperature plummeted further. I have to say, my new Wenonah prospector (quick plug) handled amazingly in what has to be the worst conditions I have ever paddled in. My old boat would have been swamped in no time but this new baby just glided up and down the waves with astonishing stability (plug over). It was after 4 hours of battling through hellish conditions we finally found a beach we could land on. It was starting to get dark and I had an uneasy feeling inside, things where not looking good. Al got out of the boat first and soon realised there was no way we could get a tent up on the rocks where we’d landed. Further up there was some grass which looked perfect until we stepped on it. The thin layer of ice it was growing through cracked and we were stood in 5 inches of water. The sheer hard work of paddling had been keeping me warm in what was now below freezing temperatures. But now I’d stopped I desperately needed some shelter. We found a spot on a slight incline where our feet only sank about an inch and decided there just wasn’t time to look for anywhere else. My face was raw, my feet were numb and my whole body was hurting and aching from being too cold. All I wanted to do was roll up into a ball, shelter my body from the bitter wind and close my eyes. For a split second I thought ‘gosh we might not get ourselves out of this’. Then something inside kicked in, and with a sudden rush of adrenalin, my frozen paddling mittens came off and we fought like hell against the gales and the failing light to put that tent up. All I could hear in my head was my heart pounding, for that single moment nothing in the world mattered more than getting that tent up and somehow, we did it. I have never felt so focussed on anything in my life. As the final peg went in, almost like a cruel joke, the wind dropped. Then as I looked up around me into the fading light, I realised we were surrounded by deer. There must have been 200 of them, mainly stags, all watching as we finally took refuge inside our tent.
It was a reflective evening in the tent that night, with neither of us knowing quite how we’d let ourselves get into such a dangerous situation. Thank goodness we’d bought the tent as a back up in case the bothy was full. We’d at least done something right. As my body warmed up I realised I’d quite badly pulled the muscle in my left forearm and even Al was feeling pretty sore in his shoulders and neck from 4 hours of hacking.
The following day we woke up to find everything frozen. My gloves, the toothpaste even the rice pudding I’d decided to cook for breakfast was frozen solid in its tin. The cold was affecting our gas cooker too which was barely alight and certainly couldn’t cook anything. Luckily we had a spare trianga, meths stove with us which although classed as a bit old fashioned these days, worked a treat. Outside the windchill temperature had been -14 degrees Celsius. The wind was strong but not gale like, like the day before so we had another decision to make. If I didn’t make Ben Alder Bothy, with all its history of ghosts and ghouls and didn’t climb the mountain to see Bonnie Prince Charlies cave, what would I write about? We got out my GPS and we’d only managed to paddle 6.9miles the day before. We usually paddle three times that distance in that time and the weather was slightly better so we decided to give it a go.
So with another great decision under our belts we decided to leave the tent where it was, paddle the 8 miles to Ben Alder Bothy, get the photo’s I needed for an article then sail back, have a late lunch at the tent, pack away and sail the 6.9miles back to the beginning.
It was so cold though, even with all the high tech kit we had on, I still wasn’t warm. I even ended up putting on the £2.99 last minute back-up balaclava I got from the garage in Capel Curig on, over my scull cap. I have been umming and arring about whether to submit the photo of me wearing this ensemble and I’ve been persuaded too against my better judgement, just remember it was really really cold!
Anyway, off we set towards the Bothy. The snow covered mountain Ben Alder towered above us but offered no shelter from the strengthening wind. My forearm was agony and I found it difficult to paddle on my left side but we still carried on. The waves got bigger, the wind got stronger and I was exhausted after just an hour. Then a snow blizzard started and I just couldn’t do anymore. Al was gutted that we’d come so close and I just couldn’t find the strength to paddle another stroke. He tried to carry on alone but the wind was too strong so reluctantly with only a mile to go he turned the boat around and sailed back to the tent.
As I sat exhausted and motionless in the boat letting the sail take us back, I was totally unaware the effect the cold was starting to have on my body. My toes were numb but that had happened the day before but, about an hour later, when we’d finally reached our tent, I tried to get out of the boat I couldn’t straighten up. My body felt rigid. I tried to ask Al for help but my speech had gone all slurry, this really scared me. When I did get back to the tent and laid down my body started to shake uncontrollably. It only lasted a few minutes and I was then ok but, its frightening to imagine what would have happened if we’d stayed out on the water even a few minutes longer. By 2.30pm we were both in the tent wrapped up in our sleeping bags sipping hot sweet drinks as a freezing blizzard howled outside. We should have been back at the car by now and I was worried the guest house I’d booked for that evening might call emergency services if we didn’t turn up so I routed through my dry bag and found her details, only to see that I had her address but no telephone number. My mobile reception was intermittent so I texted my friend the address and prayed he would find the number, before a big helicopter came in search of us. Luckily he found it and a quick call later everything was fine. I soon fell asleep and incredibly 17 hours later I woke up. I do like the odd lay in but that was pretty impressive even for me but I guess my body must have needed it.
It was 9am on day 3 and as I looked out of the tent I couldn’t believe my eyes. The sun was shining. The loch was flat and I was surrounded by beautiful snow covered mountains. We’d not seen a top of a mountain since we got there; the landscape was breathtaking. I could finally get my camera out and take some photo’s.
With such lovely weather we could have easily paddled to the Bothy, seen the caves and paddled all the way back to the car and still have hours to spare but my body had had enough and we finally made the first sensible decision of the trip and paddled straight back to Dalwhinney.
As we gently paddled back through this astounding scenery in beautiful sunshine I got to thinking ‘was it all worth it?’
Things could have turned out so badly but through sheer luck rather than judgement they didn’t. My sense of adventure has gone up another few notches and I’ve certainly leant not to under-estimate the British weather. But my head is filled with incredible achievement knowing I paddled and survived such harsh conditions. And now I’m paddling through some of the most magnificent scenery I’ve ever seen in my life. This is the bit I’d dreamed of and I guess it’s made even more spectacular by what we’d endured to get here.

2 days later at home: Without realising, twice during this trip I was showing some classic signs of the first stages of Hypothermia. My naivety of canoeing in cold weather screams at me as I proof read this article. Even with all the right clothing, and without capsizing, my exhaustion and inexperience of freezing temperatures left me in what could have been a life threatening situation. And what for? A few photographs! It’s just not worth it. Saying that, paddling the entire of Loch Ericht is still high on my list of trips to do, I’ll just be waiting for the weather to warm up a little bit first, I think. X


Useful info:
Balsporran Cottages B&B (just round the corner from the Loch) Tel: 01528 522389
www.balsporran.com
VisitScotland (tourist information, accommodation, bus times etc) Tel:0845 2255121

www.visitscotland.com/adventure