Pease Bay to St Abbs, the 20k rock hopping trip



The Forecast had looked a bit dodgy all week for our proposed trip out to the Farne Islands on one of the biggest tides of the year. As Sunday drew closer the idea of battering back in from Inner Farne on a F7 Westerly forced us to come up with an Alternative.

Ollie hatched  a plan to have a trip down a stretch of the Berwickshire Coast that might afford a little shelter. The forecast was now for F5 gusting F7 from the SW and later veering into the West.  A launch from Pease Bay with a finish point in St Abbs harbour was agreed upon. An early start saw the shuttle complete and we were mustered on the sand at Pease Bay ready for the off by 10.30 ish....



 

 



George's radio crackled into life as Ollie was briefing us on the paddle plan. The Forth and Aberdeen Coastguard confirmed that strong winds were still forecast for the day ahead but the strength had been reduced to F4/5.



 



We set off towards the headland of Fast Castle. Not long after leaving the shelter of Pease Bay the Cliffs steepen and we were soon rounding Siccar Point. This rocky outcrop  known internationally as Hutton’s Unconformity is a  Site of Special Scientific Interest and from here on the rock hopping improves all the way with Stacks, caves, narrow gullies and all manor of jaggy bits to destroy a composite boat. No surprise that on our trip we had a fine and varied selection of rotomoulded boats, that consisted of five Delphins and an Avocet.





With a little push from the breeze behind us we nosed into caves that had escaped our inspection on previous visits. The ever watchful eye of  the numerous Grey Seals kept guard of their tranquil home. This part of the coast line is very remote and even signs of fishing activity are rare. A quick look back towards the blot on the landscape that is Torness Power Station betrayed the otherwise calm conditions we were experiencing. White horses were visible as the Westerly wind had freshened enough to fold the tops over.

 

The piece of coastline known as the Little Rooks just before Fast Castle has some of the most amazing rock formations you'll find in SE Scotland. Time your arrival here half way up the flood and you'll find some fantastic gaps and gullies to squeeze through. Any more than a couple of feet of swell might render most of this ground inaccessible so keep an eye on the swell forecasts for trip planning here.

The pictures above shows the remains of Fast Castle balanced precariously on the edge of the cliff.
Fast Castle was originally known as False Castle, on account of the lights that were hung from it to mislead shipping. Mariners would see the lights as they were passing in darkness. They would assume that they had reached a safe haven, only to find that they had been guided onto rocks, where the awaiting wrecking parties would retrieve the cargo from the wreckage.

A few hundred yards from Fast castle you will come across the distinctive column of the Wheat Stack, a popular adrenaline rush for climbers who can often be seen clinging to the vertical sides by their finger nails.



Time had flown and the dinner bell had gone off an hour ago. We wanted to get to St Abbs Head for peak flow to catch some tidal action, so with two hours to spare we decided to spend the first one on the shore. What better place to stop than Lumsdaine Shore.  This really is an oasis in  the desert. The relatively sheltered fine shingle landing is one of the very few places you can get ashore on this remote stretch of coastline. The shingle beach lays way to a fine gravel plateau with a ready supply of drift wood to make a fire. Behind the fine gravel there's a small patch of fairly level grass which makes way to a winding track up the cliff. This might come in handy should you need to walk out for any reason.

 

As we left the tranquillity of Lumsdaine we could see St Abbs Head in the distance. A strange white line fringed the bottom of the cliffs which suggested to us that we may be about experience a change in conditions. As we neared the headland conditions rapidly changed form benign to a rather more interesting environment. The next few pictures are a little smudged and blotchy, probably something to do with the rain squall and tidal conditions we passed through to get round the headland.

 

Once round the Head we sought shelter from the wind and waves behind one of the towering sea stacks. This particular one has taunted Ollie for some time now, he is determined that one day he will climb to the top. I just hope I have my camera batteries charged for that day. On Sunday he took a bite out of it before diving in to cool off.







Things calmed down as we progressed beyond the lighthouse under St Abbs Head. As it was now high tide it would have been rude not to take a look in one or two of the caves that intersect the base of the cliffs to the South of the now redundant fog horn.





All too soon our trip was over and we had arrived at St Abbs Harbour. Brian still needed to expend some fuel before making a landing on the slipway in the corner of the harbour.  A quick climb up a ladder on the harbour wall dragging his boat behind sorted this out. The launch from the top of course was the reward for his efforts.

 

 

 



Weary and weather beaten we dragged our boats up the slip in the harbour. The cries form harbour master asking us for launching fees were met hastily by Alan's tongue in cheek reply of  " We didn't launch here mate, we've come from Pease Bay, we're only landing".  We loaded our boats and paid our dues to make sure we were welcome upon our next visit. The launching fee here is £3.00 for a kayak and to be honest is not too bad considering you can park for nothing  all day in the upper car park .

 

Make sure you carry a repair kit ! 

 

 

 

 

 

Ailsa Craig, two straight lines and a circle.

 

Two straight lines and a circle, that was our recorded track log for the day. A 16 km open crossing out to Ailsa Craig, a 5 km loop round the Island and a 16 km return leg.  I'm not really into open crossings, on this occasion it was to visit somewhere new so the 2hr 30 min outgoing paddle passed really quickly.

 

When we arrived at our launch site near Lendalfoot the Fairy Isle was hiding underneath a veil of low cloud. As we made ourselves ready for the trip a dark shape was slowly appearing from the mist.

 

 

 

 

We started to carry the boats down to the shore line and just as per the forecast the visibility was rapidly improving.

 

 

 

 

The starting pistol went and we were out of the blocks, four of the six in our group had never been out to visit Ailsa Craig before so were eager to set a good pace. No need for adjusting our bearing for tide and wind, both were minimal and the target was in sight. As the land became smaller behind us the Lump of Granite ahead of us grew in stature.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After an hour on the water the sun made an appearance and lit up our target, the cloud had now lifted and the Ailsa Craig looked resplendent in the morning sun.

 

 

 

 

At last a sign that the outgoing crossing was almost complete, the advance greeting party had been sent out to welcome us.

 

 

 

We hauled out on the granite boulder beach below the light house, not the best place for a composite kayak to be dragged up. A welcome leg stretch before we had our lunch on a lovely sheltered spot behind the lighthouse perimeter wall.

 

 

 

After lunch we went for a walk round the Island to look at the  remains of the Quarrying that took place here between the mid 19th to the mid 20th century.

 

A view from the castle looking back towards our boats hauled out on Foreland Point beneath the light house.

 

 

Looking South from the same point towards the Rhins of Galloway, the entrance to Loch Ryan clearly visible in the distance.

 

 

 

The castle built in the late 1500s by the Hamilton family, the toilet clearly visible and looks like it may still be occupied.

 

 

 

 

 

We made our way back down the slippery track to our boats and went for a paddle around the Island. The steep Granite columns on the South side are resident to a colony of over seventy thousand Gannets and were busy feeding their young and making one almighty din.

 

 

 

Some of the young Gannets had fledged and were still looking for food from their parents on the boulder strewn shore line.

 

 

 

 

Our circumnavigation was complete, we had one straight line and a circle, it was now time to draw the final straight line. By now the wind had freshened to the top end of F3, The sky was brooding and the tops were coming off the waves. Worse still the wind was in the South, not ideal for a push home. It was to be a hard slog, the only incentive was fish and chips we had planned  in Girvan. It was now 3.15 pm and it would be 5.30 pm before we would make land fall.

 

 

 

 

Soon after 5.30 pm we stood up on the beach at Lendalfoot, our mission complete. We had drawn the second straight line on our track. It had been a lovely paddle with lots to see on the Island. The Icing on the cake was the fish and chips in Girvan, they were inhaled rather than savoured. Brian recorded a 2600 calorie burn for our days activity so there was room left for a beer when we got home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Saint Andrews, sitting ducks !

 

Before this trip I had never even been to Saint Andrews let alone paddled it's beautiful waters. Our trip took us from the leisure centre on the East Sands up to the the river Eden Estuary and on to the deserted beaches and the wildlife reserve of Tentsmuir Forest.

 

 George had many happy memories of visiting this area as a child. He has been keen to get on the water here for a while now to get a different view of the City. I must admit on this particular fine sunny September day the city of Saint Andrews delivered the goods as a first class paddling venue.

 

The sun was splitting the sky as the coastguard at Fife Ness informed us that he was recording a 15 knot North West wind. This was fine for us as that was coming off the land and there was a small redundant swell running in from the East.

 

 

 

We slipped without trace under the land marks of the Ancient City. Looking back inshore George reminisced of times gone by when he had bathed in the old swimming pool on the shore. This used to be fed by sea water each high tide. How times have changed now with heated chlorinated pools and wave machines. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We left the rocky shore line below the old town and made our way to cleaner ground. We had fun all the the way picking  out the bigger swells and surfing them  back into the clean sandy beaches. George demonstrated a new reverse surfing technique he has learnt. It seems to work better when your VHF aerial is inserted in your left nostril, strange but true !

 

 

 

 

Up on the West sands the Old Course of Saint Andrews sits nestled behind the dunes. Looking to the North there's clean sand all the way up to the Tay Estuary. The swell lines were long and clean, breaking at regular intervals all the way up the beach as far as the eye could see. The wind off the land was blowing the tops of the waves back out to sea creating rainbows of fine salty spray. 

 



 

 

 

 

As we approached the River Eden Estuary we were served a timely reminder that we had entered the  RAF Leuchars airbase boundaries. Several squadrons of Typhoon Euro Fighters were returning from training exercises. It was a frightening experience but also so exciting to paddle under their flight path as they were coming into land. The jets would come in as if to touch down only to pile on the gas and lift off in a roar of pure power. The first three jets had done this twice when the first in the squadron came in very low on top of us. It looked unusual as it came towards us standing nose over tail almost stalling in speed as it reached our position. What happened next will stay with me as long as I live. The pilot was having fun with us and piled on the gas just meters above our heads. I would swear that he blew the water away and I touched the sand. My whole boat was vibrating, I dropped the camera and cupped my hand over my ears in a futile attempt to blot out the roar. The Typhoon took off vertically above us, the only thing louder than the roar of the jet engine would have been the pilot laughing at the expressions on our faces.  A few more jets arrived in formation putting the icing on the cake for our very own personal air show.

 



After all the excitement we hauled our boats up the beach for a spot of lunch. We found shelter from the wind in the lea of Tentsmuir Forest. The area of dunes and scrub before the forest was alive with wildlife. Like us they were enjoying a long overdue spell of fine weather. 





Fed and watered we loaded up and zig zagged our way back down the beach, playing on the small surf waves as we went. We arrived back at the leisure centre bang on 5.00 pm and decided a trip into town to sample the local fish and chips was on the cards. George decided it would be a good idea to show me the Old Course club house and proceeded to drive right over the grass in front of it to get a good view,,,Nutter !

 

 

 

 What a day, I went with low expectations and drove home planning  a return trip. Next  time I'll be heading in the opposite direction towards Fife Ness.