\nWith 2 weeks to go I just keep my head down. I avoid anything or anyone too stressful and have a bit of fun in the boat. I try to \u2018sleep ahead\u2019 if I can. Time always seems to be short as the day nears.<\/p>\n
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<\/a>Islay – The Paddle<\/h5>\n
Even with the best of planning, there are some things you just can\u2019t control though, the weather being the main one.
\nThe planned date in mid-June slipped – one week, two and then suddenly we were a month behind. I am starting to feel a little ragged now, my peak has passed. I’m tired and impatient.
\nBut that\u2019s part of the game, it\u2019s interesting to try to extend things for a month.
\nEventually a sneaky weather window appears and we step off a last-minute ferry in the Sound of Islay.<\/p>\n
It really is last minute. We arrive on the evening ferry and tides dictate an early-o\u2019clock start the following morning. After a quick visit to check the intended get-in, it is time to sort kit and get to bed. After a year of preparations somehow you still run out of time at the end!<\/p>\n The forecast isn\u2019t perfect, but not too bad: a not-quite 10 mph breeze from the NNE with a gentle 1-2 ft swell on the west coast, all under a gunmetal grey sky. Sunny spells are forecast for later, with the wind going easterly. This may give a little headwind along the north coast, but at 10 mph that\u2019s tedium rather than problem. I expect a bit of chop in the Orsay tide race with the swell, but all in all it\u2019s good enough to get around.<\/p>\n The Islay lap length is roughly a multiple of the tide cycle, so on paper this gives a bit of variety to start points without affecting the tide timing too much. That said, limited road access, geography and the desire to transit the OA and Orsay tide races at the start of the day narrow down those options. I get on at a small, scruffy beach, as the spraydeck goes on the stress falls away. I feel at home, we are finally here, the day is underway.<\/p>\n A few minutes later I reach Texa, just offshore. It is reassuring that the forecast is as predicted. Boat and me turn south-west, I start the watch and paddle. We are off.<\/p>\n The first hour is uneventful, which is just as well as it takes me a while to wake-up this early morning. I arrive at the end of The Oa headland, just as the tide starts to run. The swell is nudging the tide race gently awake, but it is having a slow start too. I take in the scenery along the cliffs as I drift through while munching on an egg butty. Life is fine.<\/p>\n As I round the headland, my heading goes from SW to NW and I point towards another headland \u2013 The Rhinns of Islay. For now it\u2019s just a low-lying grey silhouette in the distance, 8 miles or so across the bay. The breeze is still NNE, a slightly-off-the-nose gentle headwind. No hassle, crack on. \u201c\ud835\udc35\ud835\udc52\ud835\udc50\ud835\udc4e\ud835\udc62\ud835\udc60\ud835\udc52 \ud835\udc5c\ud835\udc53 \ud835\udc5c\ud835\udc63\ud835\udc52\ud835\udc5f\ud835\udc53\ud835\udc4e\ud835\udc59\ud835\udc59\ud835\udc60, \ud835\udc4f\ud835\udc5c\ud835\udc61\u210e \ud835\udc61\u210e\ud835\udc52 \ud835\udc42\ud835\udc4e \ud835\udc4e\ud835\udc5b\ud835\udc51 \ud835\udc61\u210e\ud835\udc52 \ud835\udc45\u210e\ud835\udc56\ud835\udc5b\ud835\udc5b\ud835\udc60 \ud835\udc5c\ud835\udc53 \ud835\udc3c\ud835\udc60\ud835\udc59\ud835\udc4e\ud835\udc66 \ud835\udc60\u210e\ud835\udc5c\ud835\udc62\ud835\udc59\ud835\udc51 \ud835\udc4f\ud835\udc52 \ud835\udc5d\ud835\udc4e\ud835\udc60\ud835\udc60\ud835\udc52\ud835\udc51 \ud835\udc4e\ud835\udc61 \ud835\udc4e \ud835\udc51\ud835\udc56\ud835\udc60\ud835\udc61\ud835\udc4e\ud835\udc5b\ud835\udc50\ud835\udc52 \ud835\udc5c\ud835\udc53 \ud835\udc60\ud835\udc52\ud835\udc63\ud835\udc52\ud835\udc5f\ud835\udc4e\ud835\udc59 \ud835\udc5a\ud835\udc56\ud835\udc59\ud835\udc52\ud835\udc60.\u201d Clyde to Colonsay, Martin Lawrence<\/p>\n Approaching Rhinns Point I am anticipating the overfalls. With the forecast and the conditions so far I\u2019m not expecting too much hassle, but you never know. Next is outside Orsay, in the narrow gap between Orsay and the small off-lying rock of An Coire. This sneaky line goes along the northern edge of the tide race, and gives an option for a breakout behind Orsay in the event of any non-too-happy moments.<\/p>\n And of course there is the full-fat version of straight down the middle, come what may.<\/p>\n From a distance there is movement in the tide race, but it\u2019s difficult to judge the scale. So my plan is to go for the second option – with a plan to alter either way if need be. However as I close on the island, there looks to be quite a lot of confusion and white-stuff in the gap. It is too late now to go for the inside route, so I ease out to take the full-fat option instead.<\/p>\n The GPS shows the speed increasing as I enter the tide race, it is a bit splashy here and there and a few heading-change and timing-adjustments are needed to avoid the splashier bits. I\u2019m 3hrs in with 10 to go; there is no need for any more excitement or dampness than is necessary. The coastline has a few lumps, bumps and sticky\u2013out bits, but is fairly featureless on the whole. In the distance lies a dark silhouette, it\u2019s a long way away and I hope it\u2019s the far-off island of Mull, and not the right-hand turn at the top of Islay.<\/p>\n It isn\u2019t Mull. It is right-hand turn at the top of Islay. Wow, that still looks a long way away. It takes a while-of-denial, before I allow the dawning realisation to take centre stage.<\/p>\n In the meantime I prefer to get distracted by a visit from a pair of Minke whales, along with the view of the pretty sands of Machir Bay, though they are a little too far away to be appreciated fully.<\/p>\n Next there is another tide race off Coul Point. This one seems a little white from a distance, and as I close I can hear it too. But it\u2019s all talk, when I arrive there is no drama.<\/p>\n The west coast tide races have made a smooth paddling routine difficult, but they have added a bit of speed to the day. Nearing the \u2018top left corner\u2019, a few calculations suggest a sub-12 hr finish may be possible. Nice!<\/p>\n Off An Clachan I turn right and head east, towards the northern end of the Sound of Islay, though it is still 12 or 13 miles away. I hope I might make out the \u2018friendly faces\u2019 of the Paps of Jura by now, but they lie behind higher ground on Islay. Colours are muted and the horizon a little murky. It\u2019s still grey.<\/p>\n On turning the corner the speed drops too. It is what the plan says, but still disappointing when it happens. The wind has gone to the east now, a little earlier than hoped. There you go. Pick a headland and paddle towards it.<\/p>\n By Nave Island I\u2019ve been on the go for 6 hrs and I\u2019m starting to flag a little, not too unusual. Nave Island means I\u2019ve reached half-way around, distance-wise. I\u2019m not sure if that is a good thing or not.<\/p>\n Another hour goes by, it\u2019s still grey and I\u2019m still flagging. It\u2019s a lonely stretch of the coastline. Then, as I near Rubha Bholsa, a C-130 Hercules aircraft flies by. They bank left and take a minute to go around to for a second look. The crew waggle the wings before heading off east, it lifts my spirits surprisingly. Life doesn\u2019t feel quite so lonely for a while.<\/p>\n The plan was to stay in the boat for the full day, a long stretch but not impossible. However today it\u2019s not to be. A toilet stop is needed, and a pee-bottle isn\u2019t going to work for this one. I need to land. I know this will cost me twenty minutes but that\u2019s life. So I head in to the isolated beach at B\u00e0gh an D\u00e0 Dhoruis for a break. While on the beach I take the opportunity to stretch my legs and change into dry clothes too. That feels good. Back in the boat, it\u2019s now only a short paddle to the corner where I turn right once again, to head south into the Sound of Islay.<\/p>\n As I round the corner I can see the impressive mountains of Jura now at last. The flow is squeezing nicely into the mouth of the channel, and as I pass the lighthouse on the corner I\u2019m moving nicely at 7 kts. All this is punctuated by my first glimpse of blue sky for the day. Spirits lift once again, this time as I head south, still with 7 kts + on the GPS.<\/p>\n The sun comes out and colour vision returns. The silver-grey Jura mountains look large and spectacular over to the side. While Jura may seem to reside in the shadow of its larger neighbour, Islay, it defiantly shows off impressive scenery to make a point. Unfortunately the sunshine brings a strengthening wind blowing up the sound. The wind makes things a bit splashy down by the ferry crossing, but under the sunshine I hardly notice. Boat and me are making good progress, nearly 8 kts now.<\/p>\n It\u2019s a relief to pass the incoming Islay ferry without incident, and assuming she sticks to the timetable I can \u2018bomb\u2019 down the middle of the sound for a while without fear of being run down. As the sun warms my arms I take in the Islay scenery along the remote stretch of coastline. Ahead in the distance I can make out the Kintyre Peninsula (I guess). But whenever life is good, it can only go one way of course. At McArthur\u2019s Head I pass the isolated lighthouse perched precariously on top of the small cliff, and watch the speed drop off that cliff. Claggan Bay goes on forever, and then a bit more. I admit defeat trying to find any flow. The GPS shows a sluggish flat-water speed only. I guess that is how it is going to stay now. The wind drops and the day has that evening stillness about it now. It\u2019s calm, peaceful and pleasant. I try to put on a \u2018bit of a burn\u2019 for the final stages, but not much happens and I figure it won\u2019t make much difference anyway. I aim for the sun-bleached rock of Texa, but it feels like I\u2019m frozen in time. It doesn\u2019t get any closer.<\/p>\n The final \u00be mile along the island takes even longer, but all of a sudden I pass through the rocky gap where the clock starts and finishes. It\u2019s been a long day.<\/p>\n In fact, it\u2019s been a long year.<\/p>\n But it worked.<\/p>\n John Willacy<\/a><\/a>Conditions<\/h5>\n
Starting Out<\/h5>\n
\nI\u2019ve plumped for a start point at the small rocky island of Texa, after a short paddle in. This gives an easy launch, an obvious timing spot and ticks the tide race timing box too.<\/p>\n
\nThe Boss waves from the American Monument atop the cliffs as I go. 8 miles slide by.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/a><\/p>\n<\/a>Orsay<\/h5>\n
\nThere are 3 options:
\nThe first is the \u2018chicken chute\u2019: the inside channel between the close-lying island of Orsay and the Islay \u2018mainland\u2019. This will likely be the smoothest option, sheltered from the swell on the whole but it has the downside of dumping you unceremoniously into a large eddy before Frenchman\u2019s Rocks \u2013 likely with a long time-consuming slog at the end.<\/p>\n<\/a>
\nWhile the conditions in the Orsay overfalls are not dramatic today, the scale is impressive. They go on, and on. After an hour they\u2019ve settled a touch, but I\u2019m still paddling through the arse-end of it all. The boat rises, falls and wallows around. A smooth glide is not part of the programme here.
\nIt doesn\u2019t seem overly significant just now, but I know these conditions have an invisible fatiguing affect. Later you wonder why you run out of steam.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\nIt isn’t Mull<\/h5>\n
Right Hand Down<\/h5>\n
<\/a><\/a><\/p>\nAdmin Stop<\/h5>\n
\nIt\u2019s a pretty spot for admin.
\nI\u2019m in the middle of nowhere, the map shows 3 miles to the nearest road, but of course just as I bare my bum to the only-me-and-a-few-sheep world, a quad bike appears on the high ground above the beach. It\u2019s one of those days…<\/p>\n<\/a><\/a>The Sound<\/h5>\n
\nThere is a faff as the camera shows \u2018memory card full\u2019 (school-boy error) and eventually I give up trying to remember how to delete pics to make some space. The impressive views of Jura pass by, hauntingly unrecorded.<\/p>\n
\nLife is good.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/a><\/a><\/p>\nMcArthur\u2019s Head<\/h5>\n
\nPerhaps I cut the corner too tight? But I can\u2019t see any obvious flow further out, not without going out a loooong way.
\nThere is a matching fall in my mood too. The psychological affect is striking; suddenly my energy levels drop to match the drop in boat speed.
\nSo I slog along the coast, vainly trying to scrounge a little flow. It is pretty here and the sun is out, but I am tired. The headwind is only a breeze, but it drags like a hurricane. It\u2019s 11 hours since the start.<\/p>\n
\nArdmore Point follows in a brain-fuddled fatigue of well-is-it-or-isn\u2019t-it-Ardmore? However it is, and soon there is nothing remaining in front of me, so I figure it is time to turn right for the final time, to head onto the final stretch – towards Texa.<\/p>\n<\/a>To Texa<\/h5>\n
\nThe route here is a little more involving, low lying islands and reefs abound. I opt outside the first ones but then skirt through the gaps in front of the pretty green headland of Aird Iomarsaigh.<\/p>\n<\/a>
\nAbruptly it\u2019s all over. Job done. 12 hrs and 40 minutes.
\nI drift for a minute and take in the view one last time \u2013 it\u2019s nice. Then I turn tentatively towards the Islay shore, for a further 15 mins of adding-insult-to-injury paddle to the beach.<\/p>\n
\nOct 2022<\/p>\n<\/a><\/a><\/p>\n