Scottish Sea Kayaking Photo Gallery

"Sea kayaking heaven: a gneiss time on Lewis."

The Scottish Sea Kayaking Photo Gallery Hebridean Symphony, 2nd movement, July 2006.

Prior to our arrival on North Uist on 13/07/2006 the west wind had been strong for several days. We found huge surf on the west coast of the islands. Gale force winds were forecast within 36 hours. We decided to play it safe and stay in the west end of the Sound of Harris. The wind did not arrive until the morning of the 16th. That night gale force winds and rain lashed our tents. We got up at 05:30am to catch the 07:20 ferry to Harris and the rest of our adventure on Lewis.

GPS track of route 81.6km without the mucking about!.

GPS track overlaid on Google Earth.

Day 1: Monday 17/07/06 Arrival in Loch Rog, Lewis.

Conditions on the day: Wind SW force 5 falling to 4.

This trip started on the Island of Berneray where we had just spent the previous 4 days. During our last night on Berneray, a force 8 wind howled and shrieked though the camp, driving rain through the stitching of the tent walls. It was almost a relief to get up at 05:30 to start loading for the 07:20 ferry to Harris. We slowly dried out in the warmth of the cabin as the ferry wound its way through the skerries. It was still blowing a good force 6 as we drove north through Harris.

Traigh Iar, Harris, we decided not to launch here.

Taransay just visible through the mist and rain from Traigh Iar, Harris.

We had wondered about heading for Taransay or Scarp but glimpses of breakers through the rainsqualls told us otherwise. We started the long climb through the mountain pass to Lewis. Then a most remarkable thing happened. The sun broke through the clouds and the most vivid rainbow we had ever seen arced over the steep sided valley with its river in full spate below.

Rainbow in Glen Scaladail, North Harris.

With the wind and swell from the south, I reckoned the best bet would be the Lewis coastline that stretches between Gallan Head in the west to Tiampun Head in the east. If the conditions did not improve, we could always head south into the shelter of Loch Roag. Lunchtime saw us at the standing stone circle of Calanais, which is one of the best Stone Age sites in Europe . We had the place to ourselves as we wandered amongst its ancient stones. The patterns in the wet gneiss rock of the stones looked so beautiful in the soft island light.

Photo Jennifer Wilcox

After lunch in the visitor centre, we drove on to Uig Bay to the south of Gallan Head. Crossing the machair to the sound of another corncrake we found (as expected) the surf was too heavy to launch. It was here in the dunes that a crofter found the famous Uig chess men that date from Viking times.

King of Uig.

Common Blue.

Uig Bay, The surf looks innocuous in this telephoto shot. It is actually 1 kilometer away over the sands We decided not to launch here as the tide was out. Photo Jennifer Wilcox.

Camas na Clibhe, Lewis, we decided not to launch here.

Camas na Clibhe, Lewis.

On the other side of Gallan Head, at Bhaltos, the force 5 offshore wind blew through the few motor caravans but at least the water was flat and there was an improving forecast.

Bhaltos

Wasting no time, we were at last paddling in clear Lewisean waters. We wound our way out through the islands towards the open Atlantic . Mike was tempted by a sheltered cove of white sand and went into investigate. We went on turning a point and entered a geo through a great rock arch. Landing was tricky but Alan, Jennifer, Mair and I headed up to the high point to look at the Atlantic side of the island. Despite the swell, we could see a safe way through the skerries to the most perfect crescent of white sand backed by machair. We knew we had arrived in heaven. We called Billy and Mike on the radio and met on the sands.

Alan wasted no time.

The tarp was handy that night as a Scotch mist was blowing in off the Atlantic.

The next six days were spent in a detailed exploration of the amazing coastline between Gallan and Tiampun Heads but we hardly scratched the surface! On land there are ancient churches and temples, replica Iron Age houses, ancient Duns or forts, black houses, many stone circles and a superb French/Scottish restaurant, nearly perched on the edge of Gallan Head! At sea level there are huge rock arches, deep geos with hidden channels, sheltered lagoons, tidal narrows, so many caves we lost count, towering sea stacks, islands of all sizes and even a tunnel which goes all the way through from one side of an island to the other. Lastly, there are the superb shell sand beaches and surf breaks. We spent an afternoon surfing the kayaks at Camas na Clibhe. I broke my paddle, so was glad of my spare.

The skies of Lewis are full of birds and its seas are full of fish. One of the most impressive sights was a flock of gannets diving on a shoal of fish just as the sun was setting. Despite an exhausting day, kayaks and fishing gear were quickly scrambled. We dined well on mackerel straight out of the sea and cooked in tinfoil on the embers of the fire. Seals were everywhere and larger marine life included dolphins, minke whales and basking sharks. On a trip round Old Hill, an exposed offshore stack, Mair drifted alone while the rest of us gathered wood from one of the few island beaches with driftwood. She woke from a daydream to find herself surrounded by playful porpoises. Another island was almost covered with a pink field of ragged robin.

The days passed all too quickly. They were filled with exploring, paddling day and night, surfing, eating, climbing hills, swimming and snorkelling, even sunbathing, coasteering, fishing in the sea and on fresh water lochs, and chatting round the camp fire at night.

It has not been my intention to provide a detailed paddling guide to this part of the west coast of Lewis as that would spoil your sense of discovery. Let me just say that your exploration will be richly rewarded. Some say this is the best sea kayaking in the world. I really cannot pass judgement on this as I have been drawn by Lewisean gneiss so many times, that it has limited my experience of elsewhere!

Day 2: Tuesday 18/07/06 Seanna Cnoc.

Conditions on the day: Wind S force 3 dropping to 0.

Flodaigh wall.

Flodaigh in July has great carpets of ragged robin and sea campion.. This view is towards the stacks of Bearasaigh with Seanna Cnoc (Old Hill) in the distance.

Bearasaigh. Unfortunately the swell on the exposed side prevented us from going on to Seanna Cnoc.

Campaigh. The "natural arch" is more like a tunnel right through the island.

There is a great hall in the middle where you discover there are three entrances.

Bearnaraigh Beag

We went snorkelling here.

Then moved on to Temple Sands, Bearnaraigh Beag

After circumnavigating Bearnaraigh Beag, the wind began to drop so we headed back out in another attempt to round Seanna Cnoc.

Bearasaigh.

Towards Bearasaigh from Fleisgeir.

leaving the shelter of Bearasaigh, the swell increased.

Onward to Seanna Cnoc. The tide was flowing to the left more and more strongly as we approached the stac.

Far side of Seanna Cnoc.

Looking back to Seanna Cnoc.

SW to distant Gallan Head.

SE to Bernaraigh.

Alan has another boat load of fish!

A Lewisean gneiss mortar and pestle made short work of making an oatmeal dressing for the fish from coarse porridge oats.

Mike repairs an old lobster pot. We only caught crabs!

The pressure cooker was great for the potatoes.

What a place for sitting down to enjoy an evening meal.

Yes that was a good meal! We had to throw away our vacuum packed steaks and chicken because of the unseasonal heat wave. The fish were excellent.

This sheep was actually showing signs of enjoying the sunset! Photo Jennifer Wilcox.

Sunset caught just before the sea mist rolled in and obliterated everything from view!

Day 3: Wednesday 19/07/06 The hottest day.

Conditions on the day: Wind NE force 2.

Dawn

Early morning walk on the hottest day of the year.

Billy and Mair decided to paddle towards Gallan Head. Mike and I paddled back to Bhaltos with the rubbish and empty waterbottles. Jennifer and Alan juist sat in the sun.

On the way back to Bhaltos, Mike and I could not resist exploring more of the amazing coastline. We soon lost sight of each other in the myriad of coves, reefs and caves.

As I paddled alone deep inside the cave, the sounds of the outside world gradually diminished. There was only the gentlest of swell and it hardly disturbed the calm at the back of the cave. After some moments my ears and eyes gradually adjusted to the noises and colours in the cave. There was the most wonderful sound of water dripping from the darkness of the cave roof into the sea beside me. The drips echoed round walls of iridescent reds and greens above a turquoise sea.

There are rubbish bins at Bhaltos pier. We then drove to Miabhaig jetty were we filled the water bottles at the tap. We drove on towards the Coop shop at Timsgearraidh but stopped to watch these beautiful waves snaking into Camas na Clibhe. We decided to return in the kayaks.

At Timsgearraidh we stocked up on more food to replace that which had gone off. We bought some delicious local smoked salmon, a sack of logs (it was the hottest day of the year) and ice lollies which melted as soon as we went out into the heat. By the time we got back out to the islands we were seriously overheated and went for a swim.

Compass jelly fish with long stinging tentacles.

Sand eels.

Lewisean gneiss.

Shore crab. Photo Jennifer Wilcox.

Time to launch the lobster pot.

The pot weighed down with rocks was carried on two kayaks which were towed out to the reef.

We caught lots of crabs.

The camp shower was highle effective in this weather.

Planning tea.

Mike catches some fish..

to go with the Indian curried potatoes.

Jennifer and Alan gut the fish.

Another fabulous sunset and guess what it is cool enough to go for a paddle.

I did not particularly want to leave but I knew it was now time and I prepared to enter another world. I emerged though a narrow neck that connected the womb like sanctuary and warmth of the cave to the chill of the North Atlantic air. The sun had long set but there was still a pink glow on the horizon. It merged with purple then indigo as I raised my eyes to the myriad of stars illuminating the clear Hebridean sky.

The island of Lewis is one of the most ancient landscapes in the world. The contortions in the gneiss rocks folded round me creating narrow channels and lagoons. Above, arches stood out black against the stars. Distant sea stacks reared up out of the dying embers of light on the horizon and disappeared into the darkness above. I rejoined my fellow paddlers, Jennifer and Alan and for a while we paddled straight for the ocean horizon. We continued until we could no longer hear the crash of the surf on the rocks behind. Reluctantly, we turned our bows back towards the darkness where the land lay. We were attempting to find a narrow channel through skerries that opened into a sheltered lagoon where we were camped.

It had been the hottest day of the year and some of us had lazed about camp all day and were now paddling at night. The others had braved paddling during the heat of the day and were now relaxing beside a campfire. An offshore wind carried the smoke towards us and we paddled using our noses to guide us towards the hidden gap. At last we could see the distant fire at the back of the bay. It looked so welcoming, glowing there in the darkness. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise, it was as if I had been transported back through the ages and was paddling with ancestors who had once lived in this bay. It was as if I was experiencing a little of their relief at homecoming and making landfall after seafaring. As we approached the beach the shell sand was glowing softly under the stars. The firelight spilled out over the water of the bay and we paddled on the reflections of flames that danced on the ripples. What a fantastic end to a wonderful day paddling the remote north-west coast of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides .

Day 4: Thursday 20/07/06 Loch Rog Beag

Conditions on the day: Wind S fore 3 dropping to 0.

Traigh na Beirigh

Riof #1. A lamb had fallen down from the machair onto the shore. It was very light and dehydrated. We carried it up the rocks at the back of the beach and left it on the rich pasture above.

Fuaidh Mor.

Fuaidh Mor. Mike did not catch anything in this fresh water lochan.

Jennifer catches some Loch Rog (Roag) fish.

Mike catches fish off Fuaidh Mor. This is looking south over the moors of Lewis to the distant hills of North Harris.

The head of Loch Drobhanais was midge city. Mike was well prepared.

Mirror calm in landlocked Loch an Stroim.

We slipped though this tidal gap into the narrows of Loch Rog Beag....

...where we caught more fish.

Riof #2

Mair waits for Jennifer who had been collecting mussels.

Traigh na Beirigh

We stopped at Bhaltos to drop off more rubbish. The local crofters had been gathering sheep from the offshore islands. We told them about the lamb at Riof #1.