Mull, Iona and Staffa

 

Where the West wind blows

 

 

 

 

  We had planned a couple of overnight trips on the West Coast of Mull. Arriving  at Ulva Ferry on day one it soon became clear that we would have to look at our planned route and adapt to suit the conditions we were faced with. The wind was gusting F5 from the NW and an underlying SW swell meant that shelter wasn't going to be easy to find.

 

 

 

Waiting for our ferry in Oban.

 

Three lovely shiny boats and my scruffy old GT ready for action.

 

We shelved plan A and headed down to the Ross of Mull to look for some Shelter and scratch up plan B. Our first port of call was Carsaig Bay. It was slightly more sheltered but by no means calm. After a long drive we were keen to get onto the water so the gusting F5 and driving rain were put to the back of our minds as we paddled off out of the bay towards Malcolm's Point.

 

Looking back into Carsaig Bay on day one of our trip.

 

 

The view from Carsaig Bay looking towards Malcolm's Point. Rain clouds filled the sky as the wind funnelled along the coast towards us.

 

The views were stunning, the cliffs were alive with wildlife and glistening with silvery threads of water. Peregrines called out above as wild goats scrambled amongst the seaweed strewn foreshore. A wonderful piece of coast line, even on a chilly, wet and windy day.

 

 

 

With our paddling fix sorted we got off the water and packed up making our way up the steep single track road. We were soon heading towards our overnight camp site at Fidden Farm. A statutory stop at Bunessan for post paddling refreshments was welcomed after such a long day.

 

 

We woke on day two to a very different picture. The North Westerly wind that had thwarted our plans on day one was backing towards the South West and dropping in strength by the hour.

 

 

5.30 am on day two and the sun rises far in the East giving us promise of better weather for the day ahead.

 

The view from our campsite looking West towards the South shores of Iona.

 

A paddle plan that was thrashed out in a drunken haze the night before was now swinging into action. Tides and weather were checked, boats loaded and our intrepid group of six set a course for Staffa. The round trip would clock up 35km on the water and take in some of the beautiful coast of Iona on the way.

 

 

Leaving the camp site we came across a small colony of seals basking in the warmth of the early morning sun.


 



Northern Diver in the Sound of Iona

 

Our first stop of the day was on Eilean Annraidh. A spit of Coral sand formed a causeway connecting outlying islets to the main Island. We lapped up the warmth of the midday sun before heading further North towards our destination.

 





Queen of Annraidh.

 

For every Queen there's a Joker !

 

 

We left the shelter of Iona on an oily calm sea. A slow rolling Atlantic swell left from the previous days strong wind gave us some interesting moments when it steepened as it passed over shallow off shore reefs. We paddled and chatted to while away the miles  as we passed small rafts of Puffins and Razorbills.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The finger like Basalt columns on Staffa became clearer as we neared our destination. Soon Fingals Cave was in full view and the effect of the swell was clear to see as it broke over the entrance.

 

 

 

 

One by one we timed the swells and paid the depths of the cave a brief visit. A narrow deep channel made it possible for us to safely get in and turn round while towering white capped swells crashed along the rocky outcrops either side. Tourists that had been deposited by the many visiting boats looked on above and cheered as we paddled under their gaze. Some looked bewildered as to how we had arrived there and must have wondered from where we had come..

 

 

Ollie was first to get inside the cave and encouraged us to follow him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

Landing on the West facing beach wasn't an option for us on this visit so we made our way round to the East of the Island until we found some shelter to get ashore. The boulder beach in the image below shows where we pulled out and had lunch. This gave us easy access to the rest of the Island for our post lunch exploration. First stop would have to be the Puffin colony on the NE point.

 

 



Our pull out for lunch. Not ideal but better than most of the other spots on the day.

 



 

 



Puffins were busy cleaning their burrows and making ready for the breeding season ahead.

 

  

 

 

 



 

Our return trip back to Iona was a long hard slog into the wind. A southerly blow that was topping out at the top of a F3 was in our faces all the way home. We arrived back at the camp site early evening, 35km under our belts and ready for a good nights sleep. Of course that didn't happen, we made a slap up meal and washed it down with copious amounts of whisky and wine.

 

 

Day 3 dawned dull and breezy, there was a a distinct lack of enthusiasm to get on the water. The wind had strengthened and was recorded at F6 for a time from the South West. We opted to stretch our legs and took the ferry over to Iona. Our plan was to walk to the West of the Island over the Machair to the "Bay at the back of the Ocean". We soaked up the views and scraped amongst the pebbles looking for a stray piece of Iona Green Stone.  It is written that if you keep a piece of green stone on your person you'll never drown, well that might just come in handy....!

 

 

 

 

Deserted beaches on the West of Iona.

Wheatears picked around amongst the dead wrack for a tasty morsel.

 

Multi coloured marble pebbles adorned the foreshore.

We had the whole place to ourselves, a different picture on a summers day I would suspect.



 

Ring necked Plovers made their presence known as they looked for suitable next sites amongst the pebble strewn beaches.

 

The Bay at the back of the Ocean
 

As the Southerly wind strengthened throughout the day we seized the opportunity in the afternoon to drive up to the North of the Island in readiness for a short trip out from Tobermory Bay on day 4.

 

We rose early on the Sunday morning and were on the water for 8.00 am. A tranquil paddle round to Bloody bay with a short pit stop at Rubha nan Gall Lighthouse.

 

 

 



Looking back on Tobermory on a gloomy damp morning.

This trip is never complete without rinsing our gear under the waterfall in the bay known as Sput Dubh.

 



 



 

 

All to soon it was time to head for the ferry at Craignure. What a great few days we had had on this beautiful Island.  We boarded the ferry and sailed across bidding farewell to Duart Castle and the Lismore Lighthouse on the way.

 

Duart Castle

Lismore Lighthouse complete with it's very own little tide race.

 

 

Tuig thus’ an t-eathar,

's tuigidh an t-eathar thu