Birds were swarming all around us as the sinking sun lit the inner shore with a golden autumnal glow. The water was strangely smooth yet we could hear the boom of surf dumping on the outer beach, just accross the road on the other side of the spit.
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Spurn Head
A small group comprised of NWSK and Yorkie paddlers managed to get a paddle in on Saturday before the weather broke in such dramatic style on Sunday. We assembled on the east coast to paddle around the iconic headland and nature reserve of Spurn Head. I met up with Richard, Sabina, Ron and Kate at the Spurn Heritage Coast Visitor Centre at Kilnsea Beach.
Spurn Head is a fragile spit of land made up of sand and pebbles bound together with marram grass and sea buckthorn. In places this 6 kilometre long spit is less than 50 metres wide. Spurn protects the Humber like a huge breakwater keeping the stormy nature of the North Sea at bay.
The coastal erosion here means that the shore is receeding at around 2 metres each year and the way down to the beach can be a little awkward.
Once out through the surf we enjoyed the assistance of the south-going tidal stream as we passed numerous anglers on our way to the point.
We stopped for a play in the overfalls where there is a sand bank and an area of shallows called 'Stony Binks' close to the end of the headland. From here we could see the old Bull Sand Fort which stands in the middle of the mouth of the Humber. The fort was built in WW1 as part of the coastal defence network.
Once round the end of Spurn we were in smooth waters paddling past the pilot station and jetty, 2 disused lighthouses and the only lifeboat station manned by full-time residential staff. I was spotted by the coxwain, Dave who I had met earlier in the year when 4 of us finished the Kayak Coast 2 Coast trip here raising over £2000 for the RNLI. We had just a brief chat before moving on to paddle up the inner shore of Spurn.
Birds were swarming all around us as the sinking sun lit the inner shore with a golden autumnal glow. The water was strangely smooth yet we could hear the boom of surf dumping on the outer beach, just accross the road on the other side of the spit.
Finally, we reached the shore next to the Crown and Anchor pub and after 14 kilometres of paddling we only had 700 metres to walk to our cars. We did go to the pub for a drink and some grub. Kate made the mistake of gently mentioning that her drink was less than perfect, which inspired the fearsome landlady into a devilish halloween rant.
Birds were swarming all around us as the sinking sun lit the inner shore with a golden autumnal glow. The water was strangely smooth yet we could hear the boom of surf dumping on the outer beach, just accross the road on the other side of the spit.
Monday, 28 September 2009
The Industrial North-East
The coast between Yorkshire and Northumberland is one of little known beauty and poorly hidden beasts. Brian, Peter and I met at the historic headland at Hartlepool on Friday morning for a paddle to Teesmouth. The launching spot is down a set of steps through a sandstone archway the old town wall onto a small beach called Fish Sands. As we paddled along the shores of Hartlepool Bay we kept ourselves entertained in the surf that was breaking gently on the smooth sands of Seaton Carew.
The industrial tangle of Teesmouth makes a dramatic backdrop to an otherwise flat coastline.
On Saturday we were joined by Glen and his partner Dee. Whilst us lads set about paddling from Blyth to Cresswell, Dee helped with the logistics before looking for some horses to ride. Heading north from Blyth the coastline has all of the trappings of heavy industry (more past than present). The scenery begins to show signs of rural life where the River Wansbeck enters the sea on the approaches to Newbiggin-by-the-Sea.
To help prevent coastal erosion Newbiggin Bay has a new breakwater complete with a huge sculpture of a couple gazing out to sea.
Lynemouth Bay lies to the north and hosts the aluminium works and power plant creating an awkward interruption to the otherwise slow but sure transition from industrial to rural coastline.
Journeys end was on the unspoilt sands of Druridge Bay just outside the rosy village of Cresswell in Northumberland.
Sunday morning saw us heading to North Shields at Tynemouth for a trip north along the coast to Blyth where we had started our trip the day before. We Paddled out of the River Tyne entrance and turned north beneath the iconic silhouette of the Tynemouth Priory. We paid a brief visit to Longsands beach where Glen swam in the challenging 6 inch surf.
We passed St Mary's Lighthouse before battling with strong offshore winds as we passed Seaton Sluice on our way to finish the day at Blyth Beach.
Finally, on Monday Brian, Peter and I finished off with a short paddle round Coquet Island before starting the long haul home back west.
On Saturday we were joined by Glen and his partner Dee. Whilst us lads set about paddling from Blyth to Cresswell, Dee helped with the logistics before looking for some horses to ride. Heading north from Blyth the coastline has all of the trappings of heavy industry (more past than present). The scenery begins to show signs of rural life where the River Wansbeck enters the sea on the approaches to Newbiggin-by-the-Sea.
Lynemouth Bay lies to the north and hosts the aluminium works and power plant creating an awkward interruption to the otherwise slow but sure transition from industrial to rural coastline.
Sunday morning saw us heading to North Shields at Tynemouth for a trip north along the coast to Blyth where we had started our trip the day before. We Paddled out of the River Tyne entrance and turned north beneath the iconic silhouette of the Tynemouth Priory. We paid a brief visit to Longsands beach where Glen swam in the challenging 6 inch surf.
Finally, on Monday Brian, Peter and I finished off with a short paddle round Coquet Island before starting the long haul home back west.
Sunday, 26 July 2009
A sunny paddle round Walney
I set off with as part of Julian's group to circumnavigate Walney Island off the south west part of the Cumbrian coast. Walney is around 13km long, under 2km wide and lies across a narrow channel from the industrial town of Barrow-in-Furness.
We set off from Earnse Point when the tide still had a way to come in. Walney is made up from glacial deposits and the west side is one long beach made up of sand, shingle and pebbles.
The south part of the island is a nature reserve where Eider Duck nest in relative peace under the protection of their Herring Gull neighbours.
We passed Piel Castle but felt obliged to get an update on the renovation project on 'The Ship Inn'. While we were there we it seemed rude not to stop for a drop of lunch.
The flood tide was building in the Walney Channel so we hurried back on to the water to make our way north.
We were barely half way to Barrow when we discovered this leggy beast bearing down on us.
This is what remains of a slag heap that used to be much bigger. This is where hot waste was dumped from the foundry at the north of Barrow. The glow from this heap could regularly be seen from the Isle of Man at night.
We stopped for a short break at the north end before nipping across the have a look at 'Lowsy Point'. There are a collection of huts amongst the dunes and grassland.
Some are residences and some weekend retreats, but all of them are someones beloved pride and joy. It does seem as though some of the buildings are held together with mostly pride, and not so much text book construction techniques.
We left Lowsy Point on the ebbing tide with just 4 km remaining before we landed back at Earne Point, where the ice cream man was waiting for us.
We set off from Earnse Point when the tide still had a way to come in. Walney is made up from glacial deposits and the west side is one long beach made up of sand, shingle and pebbles.The south part of the island is a nature reserve where Eider Duck nest in relative peace under the protection of their Herring Gull neighbours.
We passed Piel Castle but felt obliged to get an update on the renovation project on 'The Ship Inn'. While we were there we it seemed rude not to stop for a drop of lunch.The flood tide was building in the Walney Channel so we hurried back on to the water to make our way north.
We were barely half way to Barrow when we discovered this leggy beast bearing down on us.
This is what remains of a slag heap that used to be much bigger. This is where hot waste was dumped from the foundry at the north of Barrow. The glow from this heap could regularly be seen from the Isle of Man at night.We stopped for a short break at the north end before nipping across the have a look at 'Lowsy Point'. There are a collection of huts amongst the dunes and grassland.
Some are residences and some weekend retreats, but all of them are someones beloved pride and joy. It does seem as though some of the buildings are held together with mostly pride, and not so much text book construction techniques.We left Lowsy Point on the ebbing tide with just 4 km remaining before we landed back at Earne Point, where the ice cream man was waiting for us.
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
Durham Heritage Coast
Dangerous Dave and I met up with Terry H and his mate Stuart at the Hartlepool Headland for a weekend paddlig trip with an overnight camp. Our paddling started from Fish Sands close to this statue of Andy Capp on the Hartlepool Headland.
We paddled north along the coast towards Crimdon Dene where there is a breeding colony of Little Terns hidden amongst the sand dunes. A little further on and there is a small headland called Blackhall Rocks. Closer inspection reveals the headland to be almost completely hollow. This is a huge cavern with numerous entrances at ground level, and a pebbly beach inside.
Later in the afternoon we settled for a deserted beach to camp for the night. Until the 1980s waste from the coal mines and steel industry was dumped along this shore without regard for any consequences. Following a huge clean up the beaches are turning from black to a more naturally sandy colour and wildlife is beginning to return.
The Magnesian Limestone that makes up most of this coastline is riddled with caves and arches and we made the most of the rockhopping opportunities.
The Limestone is overlaid with Boulder Clay and sandy glacial deposits and there is plenty of evidence of frequent cliff collapse.
Upon our arrival at Sunderland we found a delightful cafe by the beach inside the north pier where we found pie and chips to be our reward for paddling against tide and wind all morning.Tuesday, 24 March 2009
Kayak Coast 2 Coast
Last week Glen, Jean, Liz and I took part in a unique voyage that linked the Irish Sea with the North Sea via the inland waterways network of northern England. The trip started near Crosby at the Mouth of the Mersey Estuary. At Runcorn the route followed a historic trading route through Manchester along inland waterways across the Pennines before reaching the Humber Estuary at Goole. On the Humber the route passes Hull and after 8 long days finished at the historic lifeboat community at Spurn Head on the North Sea Coast.
We stayed mostly in various accommodation including one night on a narrowboat and another in a lighthouse owned by an eccentric artist. The scenery was varied too. Once away from the windswept coast the rolling Cheshire countryside was soon replaced by industrial structures and inner city chaos of Manchester. The heights of the route (600ft above sea level) were adorned by the surrounding moorland and crags that mark the Lancashire - Yorkshire border.
The people we met were equally varied. On separate occasions a pub landlord and a Dog walker were instantly moved to hand over donations there and then.
One character from a group of threatening looking youths recognised me as being Polish, produced a small plastic cup and poured me a generous slosh of vodka. He insisted I looked cold and needed a ' likkle sumfink' to warm me up.
The 182 mile journey involved portaging around 140 locks (I haven't counted them all yet) with many days on the go for 9-10 hours. Not surprisingly one of us took a little time out due to tiredness, injury or illness. The one exception was Jean who instead of accepting a lift around a 5 mile impass on the Calder and Hebble Navigation, chose to get up early and run it in an effort to keep a sense of completeness to the coast to coast journey.
The Kayak Coast 2 Coast blog describes the build up to the trip and includes a day by day account. Have a look and if you feel moved enough you may consider making a donation to our charitable cause.
We stayed mostly in various accommodation including one night on a narrowboat and another in a lighthouse owned by an eccentric artist. The scenery was varied too. Once away from the windswept coast the rolling Cheshire countryside was soon replaced by industrial structures and inner city chaos of Manchester. The heights of the route (600ft above sea level) were adorned by the surrounding moorland and crags that mark the Lancashire - Yorkshire border.The people we met were equally varied. On separate occasions a pub landlord and a Dog walker were instantly moved to hand over donations there and then.
One character from a group of threatening looking youths recognised me as being Polish, produced a small plastic cup and poured me a generous slosh of vodka. He insisted I looked cold and needed a ' likkle sumfink' to warm me up.The 182 mile journey involved portaging around 140 locks (I haven't counted them all yet) with many days on the go for 9-10 hours. Not surprisingly one of us took a little time out due to tiredness, injury or illness. The one exception was Jean who instead of accepting a lift around a 5 mile impass on the Calder and Hebble Navigation, chose to get up early and run it in an effort to keep a sense of completeness to the coast to coast journey.
The Kayak Coast 2 Coast blog describes the build up to the trip and includes a day by day account. Have a look and if you feel moved enough you may consider making a donation to our charitable cause.
Monday, 22 December 2008
Wild Bore Hunt #3. Thwarted by the Sludge
In a final act of adventure the pre-christmas wild bore hunt took us to Glasson Dock at the mouth of the River Lune. At last we caught sight of real pig meat. Bacon baps were devoured from the 'Lantern o'er Lune' cafe in preparation for our 'Tour de Lancaster'.
'The Lancaster Round' is a lengthy day paddling trip that combines the rising waters of the Lune Estuary with the stillness of the Lancaster Canal. It took us around an hour an a half to reach Lancaster where the waterfront has undergone some splendid re-generation. Many of the original buildings from Lancaster's bustling past as a trading port remain. The wonky house with leveled windows is one that has survived in spite of some merciless subsidence.
Unless there is an unusually high spring tide it is necessary to portage Skerton Weir in order to reach the Lune Aqueduct and the Lancaster Canal less than 500 metres further upstream.
The Canal runs 19 metres above the river. It was only once a couple of kayaks has been carried up the bank to the canal we saw that the canal had been drained for maintenance. All that remained of our inland route back to Glasson was an 18th century trough full of mud.
Thwarted by the sludge, we beat a hasty return back down the Lune Eustuary to some spectacular sunset scenes.............
'The Lancaster Round' is a lengthy day paddling trip that combines the rising waters of the Lune Estuary with the stillness of the Lancaster Canal. It took us around an hour an a half to reach Lancaster where the waterfront has undergone some splendid re-generation. Many of the original buildings from Lancaster's bustling past as a trading port remain. The wonky house with leveled windows is one that has survived in spite of some merciless subsidence.Unless there is an unusually high spring tide it is necessary to portage Skerton Weir in order to reach the Lune Aqueduct and the Lancaster Canal less than 500 metres further upstream.The Canal runs 19 metres above the river. It was only once a couple of kayaks has been carried up the bank to the canal we saw that the canal had been drained for maintenance. All that remained of our inland route back to Glasson was an 18th century trough full of mud.
Thwarted by the sludge, we beat a hasty return back down the Lune Eustuary to some spectacular sunset scenes............. Thursday, 18 December 2008
Pre-christmas wild bore hunt #2. Take aim ........... mist!
The intrepid bore hunters stirred from their slumber to find the Leven Estuary blanketed in thick fog. Undeterred, the hunters hurried their kayaks to the advancing waters edge in readiness for the search for Chapel Island.
Technical minds, knowledgeable experts and a doctor from Yorkshire were summoned. They consulted their books, orientated maps, and pointed .... and following an undetermined amount of time paddling on a varied bearing the island was found much where it was last time.
Chapel Island was explored thoroughly but sadly no boar were to be found. As the mist lifted the hunters fled north with the flood in search of a place for rest and nourishment. Coffee and cakes were dispatched with yaffle and glee.
The only blot on the landscape of fulfillment was a sweltering, greasy, pungent bowl of 'Bovril and kebab floater' soup. A retreat on the ebbing estuarine waters followed soon afterwards for fear of reprisals.
Technical minds, knowledgeable experts and a doctor from Yorkshire were summoned. They consulted their books, orientated maps, and pointed .... and following an undetermined amount of time paddling on a varied bearing the island was found much where it was last time.
Chapel Island was explored thoroughly but sadly no boar were to be found. As the mist lifted the hunters fled north with the flood in search of a place for rest and nourishment. Coffee and cakes were dispatched with yaffle and glee.
The only blot on the landscape of fulfillment was a sweltering, greasy, pungent bowl of 'Bovril and kebab floater' soup. A retreat on the ebbing estuarine waters followed soon afterwards for fear of reprisals.Pre-christmas wild bore hunt #1. The Slightly Irritated Piglet
The elusive and notoriously fickle wild bore of Arnside haunts the shores of the Kent Estuary, in the northwest corner of Morecambe Bay. A muffled roar is often heard as the wave approaches. Small animals scatter for cover and birds take to the air. Shortly afterwards patient members of the local paddling community experience the ride of their lives, or monumental disappointment.
The water arrived late. Not so much a wild tidal bore but more a slightly irritated piglet. we rode the surge of rising water back to Arnside and consoled ourselves with some surfing beneath the railway viaduct.
Having failed to catch any wild boar we continued on up the estuary and into the tributary River Bela where we were tempted by some Reindeer maturing in a festive manner. Our final destination was Kate's house where we washed down a herd wild boar sausages and a mountain of mash with a good old glug of mulled plonk!Thursday, 20 November 2008
End of Season Meet
Many thanks to Jim for organising the event, and to Kev and Gill for the superb dinner on Saturday evening.
+Askam+sandbank,+Andy,+Chris,+R,+Glen,+Phil,+Sabina.jpg)
+Millom,+Andy,+R.jpg)
+Railway+bridge+waves,+Kate,+Chris,+Glen.jpg)
+River.jpg)
+Duddon+Bridge,+Glen.jpg)
+Railway+bridge,+Glen.jpg)
+Returning+to+Wadhead.jpg)
There was some excellent paddling on offer - and I've posted just a few photos from the two gentle trips I undertook. Duddon estuary on Saturday from a useful get on at Askam Pier (one of the many old slag heaps of the Furness area):
Launching from the end of the Pier
On the Estuary
At the railway bridge
On the river
Duddon Bridge
Sunday saw a more leisurely start, totally due to the later high tide. This time an easy amble up the Leven from Wadhead Scar near Bardsey - just getting on the water before an angling competetion got under way.
+Chapel+Island,+R.jpg)
Chapel Island
Railway bridge
Returning to Wadhead
Bill Quinton
Thursday, 9 October 2008
Kayaking with Killer Whales at 60°North
I had thought about going to the previous two Shetland symposiums, but somehow things hadn't worked out. Talks with fellow paddlers about visiting Shetland over a few beers never seemed to get any further than just talk. Shetland seemed to be the place that lots of folk wanted to go, but few actually managed to get there. This time my trip to Shetland came about due to other paddling arrangements for 2008 not going ahead as expected, so this was my backup. I also knew that Jean was going with her mum to paddle together for the first time.
The symposium ran from 4-7 July and was hosted by Shetland Canoe Club at Bridge End Outdoor Centre on the Isle of Burra. The main coordinator of the event was Tom Smith of Sea Kayak Shetland. The club also organised an additional three days of paddling at Unst the following weekend, the main coordinator being Beth Cummings. I'd say more than half of the delegates stayed for Unst, where we were joined by the OSKA contingent, Shetland Canoe Club's nearest paddling neighbours.
Most visiting paddlers seemed to already have a copy of Tom Smith's and Chris Jex's The Northern Isles. I counted myself as lucky in not owning or even having glanced through a copy, so I knew nothing of what to expect in the coming ten days. However, since returning I've added this excellent sea kayaking book to my collection.
The overnight ferry from Aberdeen to Shetland arrived in Lerwick at 7am (although I joined the boat in Orkney), so even those making their way to Bridge End by bicycle were there in plenty of time to make camp and register before the afternoon kick-off. A copy of Jim's 10 Top Sea Kayaking Paddling Destinations recent article in The Guardian, putting Shetland at the top, had not surprisingly already been posted on the symposium notice board.
Jean and Tess decided to make the most of the morning by going for a short paddle, heading north. In the afternoon the symposium possy headed south towards South Havra, exploring the immediate area en route. The weather was superb, barely a breath of wind with glorious sunshine.
Those that donned cags were soon to regret it. This was not the weather we expected in Shetland. We had a mid afternoon stop on the south of South Havra at West Ham cove. Many of us explored the few abandoned houses that were once the homes to a small population.
Next was Little Havra, even smaller and exposed to the west with an impressive arch to the south. Even in the calm conditions of the day, the swell here was not insignificant. At this point the group split, those that felt obliged to get back in time for dinner returned up West Voe and those that wanted to make the most of the conditions. We headed back up the outside of West Burra, again exposed, so is not often a place that can be seen close up. It took us a surprisingly long time to explore the 4km up to the bay of Banna Minn, but there was much to see. On arrival the view of the bay was idyllic and I couldn't think of a better place to spend a night gazing up at the stars, before possibly nodding off. If I'd brought a bivi and more provisions that would have been my choice, but alas...
Here we had short portage to get over to West Voe again and then back to Bridge End, just in time to be rather late for dinner.
The following day it was even warmer and the plan was to head up to Muckle Roe. I am not someone that is normally overly impressed by sea caves, but those on the west of Muckle were something else. I use the term caves rather loosely as it included deep gullies, tight open passages, both wide and narrow arches, subterranean passages and of course they all had to be explored. Jean and I did our very best, but of course we failed miserably. I think we also maybe tested the patience of the others, who were continually hanging around waiting for us to re-emerge, so we split from the main group along with local guide Jim.
Many photos were taken in the caves, but the results were largely disappointing. I think this was because the poor light made it too difficult for the cameras auto settings to cope. It's something I'll certainly bear in mind in future.
We stopped for lunch at North Ham and basked in the sunshine. A couple of our hosts, Tam and Jim, went skinny dipping within an instant of landing in the adjacent fresh water loch, while I amongst others were happy to just lay back and enjoy the scenery. After lunch we continued round the island in an anti-clockwise direction, returning to the marina next to the mainland bridge, but I think we'd seen the best of the coast during the morning.
That night the wind piped up and by morning it was blowing a good F6 or more. I'd gone down with a vicious summer cold during the night, so there'd be no paddling for me that day. A group which included Jean, Tess, Pete and Pen headed quite a bit further north on the west coast of the mainland and did a paddle from Hillswick to Mavis Grind, which gave shelter from the north easterly, although apparently it was still a bit wild at times.
For the final day the wind dropped, but there was still a big swell to the east, which ruled out a number of good paddles. As some folks were catching the 5pm ferry a shorter paddle was chosen, so we headed for St.Ninians Isle.
The most noticeable feature of the island is the sand tombolo, which produces good surf when the conditions are right. Like everywhere else I'd paddled so far, the coastline was again interesting and varied.
We had lunch at an unnamed cove near Inns Holm before most of the group headed down to Colsay. Jean, Tess and a few others didn't need to rush back so spent more time exploring the area. We ended the day at a lovely little cove next to Spiggie where a couple of anglers were fishing for sea trout with trout rods and lines with a fair bit of success.
After the symposium, those that stayed on made plans to do their own thing for the rest of the week. The following selection are from Pete's and Mike McClure's trip to Papa Stour. Mike also managed to get some quite good cave shots, as well as the video clip of Pete having a bit of fun.
Jean and Tess started the week by joining a club organised trip from Westerwick. It was an out and back paddle for all bar Jean, who decided to do an extended paddle back to Bridge End taking in Hildasay, Oxna and the surrounding Scalloway islands on the way. Travelling back to the centre by kayak was far more direct than doing so by car.
The following day there was another trip to Papa Stour.
On the Thursday, Jean and Tess went to Eshaness on their own. They visited the sunken subterranean passage known as The Holes of Scraada pictured below.
Our most active guides over the ten days were Tam, Jim (pictured below) and Ian (shown dancing with Beth later). We were all grateful to them for giving up their time, but I like to think that they enjoyed themselves nearly as much as we did.
While everyone else was paddling, I'd decided to take a cycling tour for the rest of the week, hence the bicycle. From what I'd heard, Eshaness and the surrounding area was a great place to see. It was also vaguely in the right direction for Unst the following weekend. The plan was to take in a few scenic loops on the way, so my route was to go via Tingwall, Weisdale, Bixter and up to Voe before getting back to main roads again. First stop was the fish shop just outside Scalloway (GR HU 409397) as the fresh fish in Shetland was second to none. My second stop was for lunch at Weisdale Mill. The menu was enticing yet not pricey. I opted for Cullen Sink and some Blue Lady tea while I was waiting. It was far too civilized for riff-raff like me, but nobody suggested I leave, despite the tight lycra shorts and dripping sweat onto the table. The dish came with just a single slice of home made bread. It was a bit like soda bread made with a multi grain/seeded flour. It was absolutely delicious, as was the soup. It was a good job that bread wasn't offered separately on the menu, as I'd have probably scoffed a whole loaf. And all the food was prepared in a kitchen that would make most ships galleys look spacious.
After Bixter, the climb with a fully laden bicycle into a stiff breeze, up the pass heading over to Voe was beginning to sap my strength. At least I hadn't overdone lunch. Tess, a highly experienced touring cyclist, had advised me that there weren't any really difficult climbs in Shetland. Well it may not have been the Alps, but by my standards this was tough. The sun was shining and the views were brilliant, so the decision to pull over to take it all in was a no brainer.
While lying on the grass by the side of the road, resting and re-hydrating, I was very tempted to call it a day and pitch my tent, despite having already booked a bed in Eshaness. However, lack of food, water and something a bit stronger meant that staying put wasn't an option. So I studied the OS map and a magic symbol rose from the screen....PH....and you don't see too many of those in Shetland outside Lerwick. Not only that, there was a choice of two in Voe. There was a God after all! With newly acquired motivation my speed of ascent increased dramatically or at least it did psychologically. The descent into Voe should have been 'a breeze', but the increasing headwind meant I still had to pedal on occasion.
The first pint didn't touch the sides and neither did the second. The pub was empty, hardly surprising mid week and mid afternoon, but the barmaid was good company once I'd persuaded her to speak a little more slooowwwly. After one for the road, pangs of hunger were coming from my stomach. With a belly full of beer, only a curry would do, but that wasn't an option here in Shetland. Not so! I had been reliably informed that there was an Indian takeaway in Brae, only a further 5/6 miles north. I arrived at 5.30pm, normally a tad early for a curry, but hey I was on holiday. A vindaloo with extra chillies would have been the normal drunken choice, but I would be sharing a confined four bed bunk room later, so just a little consideration was called for (Jimski - take note here). Brae was not exactly overrun with outdoor eating spots, so I settled for the green outside the public convenience on the main road and chatted to friendly passers by who enquired about my day. All I needed now was a nice cuppa. I went into Brae Hotel, ordered a pot of tea and discovered I could get online for a mere £1 for 3 hours. An hour or two later, after recharging my batteries (both laptop and body) I headed to the Co-op for supplies. As it doesn't really get properly dark in Shetland mid summer, I didn't need to rush to my final destination. The small painting below captures the essence of the Johnnie Notions camping böd where I was staying far better than a photograph.
I awoke pretty late the following morning and was grateful to have a proper mattress for a bed rather a camping mat. I'd hoped I would sweat out the last of my cold the previous day, but alas I felt rather rough again, so I was in no hurry to get 'oot an aboot'. Besides, the böd had been surrounded by sheep, so I was going nowhere.
At lunchtime, I headed down to Braewick, pitched my tent on the campsite and went to the cafe for food. After lunch, a little nap was called for, but I didn't awake again until 9pm. I hadn't gone to Shetland to spend all my time sleeping! Fortunately, it was far from dark so I cycled down to Eshaness lighthouse to take a look at the cliffs. While climbing the last hill a car with kayaks on top was heading towards me. It was Dave & Lucy and they had just been watching a pod of orca which were now heading south toward Stenness. I abandoned my bicycle, jumped in the car and we made a dash for Stenness. Within a minute of arrival the pod was spotted so we headed over to get a closer look. I'd never seen any kind of whale before, so the experience was completely magical. The pod remained in the same spot for about 15 minutes, which went in an instant. I'd got my camera out, but the brain failed to register the fact that photos don't get taken by themselves. After the pod (a huge male, three females and a baby) left us, we talked about what it would be like to encounter killer whales close up in a kayak and came to the conclusion that it would probably be pretty scary.
By the following morning I'd developed ear ache too, but as I'd planned to walk round the Eshaness peninsula that's exactly what I did. It was an excellent walk, but I couldn't help thinking that it would have been a much better paddle.
By late afternoon I'd packed up and begun the journey to Unst with half a loo roll sticking out of my left ear. En route I passed Sullom Voe oil terminal and was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't the complete eyesore I expected.
We were using Gardiesfauld Youth Hostel as a base, but most folks were camping. I decided to break the journey into two and stayed the night at Mid Yell camping böd pictured below.
On the ferry over to Yell I bumped into local paddler Bonar, so I asked if the pub(s) on the island was any good. He must have been in a rush as he spoke at twice his normal rate, so I just nodded politely, but left none the wiser.
I set off quite early the following morning in order to have breakfast at the Wind Dog Cafe in Gutcher. At least my virus hadn't affected either my thirst or appetite. Breakfast wasn't fantastic, but the selection of assorted cakes on offer looked excellent. It wasn't long before other paddlers were arriving at the cafe to await their place on the ferry.
By the time I got to the hostel I was in quite a bit of pain with my ear, so I went to the doctors in Baltasound to get checked out. The doctor assured me that I didn't have a brain tumour, but I did have badly inflamed inner ear and warned me that it could lead to a perforated ear drum if I had an OBE (out of boat experience). So, it was quite important that I remained upright then! As the antibiotics and painkillers I'd been given allowed me to drink we called in at Valhalle Brewery for some beer to take back with us. The weather wasn't at its best so only a few folk went paddling. I took to my bed yet again, dosed up on pills and consoled myself with some Baltasound Bakery oat biscuits, which I'd best describe as rusks for adults and rather yummy! I awoke in time for dinner, but unfortunately it was deep fried fish and tatties. I'd never cared for anything battered, with the exception of tempura prawns when they're done well, but food was food. However, the fish prepared by Ian & Beth using a secret recipe was the best fried fish I had ever tasted and there was lots of it. You'll never go hungry when being fed by a Shetlander.
In case you're thinking that my plate looks a bit greasy, that's the remains of lashing of tartar sauce from a previous helping.
On Saturday morning it was a little breezy again, so most folks took the day off from paddling and went walking in Hermaness. The following are some photos of wildlife in the area.
The rest of us did a paddle from Lunda Wick back to the hostel in Uyeasound, starting late in the day to avoid tricky wind against tide conditions in Bluemull Sound earlier on. That evening there was an excellent BBQ followed by Unst Regatta dance where failing to have a good time would have been an impossibility.
Over the symposium period, everyone had been looking forward to a paddle out to Muckle Flugga, the most northerly point in the British Isles. Fortunately the wind and swell had died down enough to make it a goer on the last day. Some of our group wanted to include Out Stack, which often has difficult conditions on the northern side, so we paddled a ferry glide course to get there. On arrival, there was indeed a tidal race running, but it didn't look too bad. However, there was a fair bit of swell, so as it was an unknown quantity we passed the stack to the south heading towards Muckle lighthouse.
We took a break from paddling at the lighthouse, but didn't land. Then we headed back to the mainland rounding Herma Ness and encountered gannets everywhere. Where there are gannets there are bonxies attacking them to rob them of fish. Unfortunately, in their world mob rule is the natural way of things. We continued until we arrived at an impressive arch at Toolie where we took another short break to watch the thousands of gannets.
As we set off again, Ken & Pen in their double decided to take a route through some tight gullies approaching the arch. The conditions were moderate so it was doable, but timing the wave sets was crucial. Unfortunately, their timing was a little out and a swim was inevitable, so we had some fun emptying a double and getting them back in their boat. Not long after setting off again we saw a gannet in the water entangled in some broken fishing net. Arthur and Jean went to the rescue cutting it free giving it a good chance of recovery.
We continued south, exploring the coast on the way, stopping at Wood Wick for a late lunch. By this time it was raining a little along with a noticeable drop in temperature and it was the first time I'd felt cold in the whole time I'd spent in Shetland.
Before setting off again, we congregated in the mouth of the bay. While we were regrouping, Tam called out that he'd spotted killer whales, west towards the horizon, but nobody else had seen them. After looking, waiting and seeing nothing, I suppose we all thought it had been a touch of over enthusiasm. Then a couple of minutes later Tam called out again, but this time a few others had seen them too. They were over by North Holms and I'd pretty quickly figured out that they were heading towards South Holms. I can't remember exactly what I was thinking, but while everyone else seemed happy to watch from a distance, I just had to get closer. Powered by pure adrenaline, I was off as fast as I could paddle towards South Holms. I don't think a plastic Aquanaut has ever travelled quite so quickly. Before long the rest of the group were following. As I got close to the islets so did the large male leading the pod. While it was silently porpoising I was silently gob smacked by six feet of dorsal fin coming towards to me and it was getting nearer by the second. It was enormous! I fumbled around for my camera, but repeatedly failed to get a half decent shot. This was the same pod I'd seen at Eshaness a few days earlier.
The pod disappeared for a while and then reappeared about five minutes later very close to the mainland coast in the cove by Skitsack. They swam up and down the shoreline obviously in search of food. After the cove had been scoured they continued round the point towards The Trinks O'Clave. I took a shortcut through some gullies on the headland so I could keep up with them. As I paddled through a narrow gully one of the females swam up from the opposite end towards me and went under my boat.
By that time we'd more or less re-grouped. As we continued down the coast so did the whales, almost certainly in pursuit of food.
By the time we arrived in North Sound off Westing the behaviour of the pod had distinctly changed. They started circling round and round for quite some time. I wondered whether it was some kind of play or maybe they were even putting on a display for us. It soon became apparent that the pod were hunting a seal or seals. Jean managed to get the following short video clip on what memory was left on her card.
The pod had stayed with us on and off for two hours or more. On getting ashore, the atmosphere was electric. It was an experience that none of us would forget.
Thanks to Jean, Tess, Pete, Pen and Mike McClure for letting me use their photos and again to Mike McClure and Jean for letting me use their video clips.
Graeme
The symposium ran from 4-7 July and was hosted by Shetland Canoe Club at Bridge End Outdoor Centre on the Isle of Burra. The main coordinator of the event was Tom Smith of Sea Kayak Shetland. The club also organised an additional three days of paddling at Unst the following weekend, the main coordinator being Beth Cummings. I'd say more than half of the delegates stayed for Unst, where we were joined by the OSKA contingent, Shetland Canoe Club's nearest paddling neighbours.
Most visiting paddlers seemed to already have a copy of Tom Smith's and Chris Jex's The Northern Isles. I counted myself as lucky in not owning or even having glanced through a copy, so I knew nothing of what to expect in the coming ten days. However, since returning I've added this excellent sea kayaking book to my collection.
The overnight ferry from Aberdeen to Shetland arrived in Lerwick at 7am (although I joined the boat in Orkney), so even those making their way to Bridge End by bicycle were there in plenty of time to make camp and register before the afternoon kick-off. A copy of Jim's 10 Top Sea Kayaking Paddling Destinations recent article in The Guardian, putting Shetland at the top, had not surprisingly already been posted on the symposium notice board.
Jean and Tess decided to make the most of the morning by going for a short paddle, heading north. In the afternoon the symposium possy headed south towards South Havra, exploring the immediate area en route. The weather was superb, barely a breath of wind with glorious sunshine.
Those that donned cags were soon to regret it. This was not the weather we expected in Shetland. We had a mid afternoon stop on the south of South Havra at West Ham cove. Many of us explored the few abandoned houses that were once the homes to a small population.
Next was Little Havra, even smaller and exposed to the west with an impressive arch to the south. Even in the calm conditions of the day, the swell here was not insignificant. At this point the group split, those that felt obliged to get back in time for dinner returned up West Voe and those that wanted to make the most of the conditions. We headed back up the outside of West Burra, again exposed, so is not often a place that can be seen close up. It took us a surprisingly long time to explore the 4km up to the bay of Banna Minn, but there was much to see. On arrival the view of the bay was idyllic and I couldn't think of a better place to spend a night gazing up at the stars, before possibly nodding off. If I'd brought a bivi and more provisions that would have been my choice, but alas...
Here we had short portage to get over to West Voe again and then back to Bridge End, just in time to be rather late for dinner.The following day it was even warmer and the plan was to head up to Muckle Roe. I am not someone that is normally overly impressed by sea caves, but those on the west of Muckle were something else. I use the term caves rather loosely as it included deep gullies, tight open passages, both wide and narrow arches, subterranean passages and of course they all had to be explored. Jean and I did our very best, but of course we failed miserably. I think we also maybe tested the patience of the others, who were continually hanging around waiting for us to re-emerge, so we split from the main group along with local guide Jim.
Many photos were taken in the caves, but the results were largely disappointing. I think this was because the poor light made it too difficult for the cameras auto settings to cope. It's something I'll certainly bear in mind in future.
We stopped for lunch at North Ham and basked in the sunshine. A couple of our hosts, Tam and Jim, went skinny dipping within an instant of landing in the adjacent fresh water loch, while I amongst others were happy to just lay back and enjoy the scenery. After lunch we continued round the island in an anti-clockwise direction, returning to the marina next to the mainland bridge, but I think we'd seen the best of the coast during the morning.That night the wind piped up and by morning it was blowing a good F6 or more. I'd gone down with a vicious summer cold during the night, so there'd be no paddling for me that day. A group which included Jean, Tess, Pete and Pen headed quite a bit further north on the west coast of the mainland and did a paddle from Hillswick to Mavis Grind, which gave shelter from the north easterly, although apparently it was still a bit wild at times.
For the final day the wind dropped, but there was still a big swell to the east, which ruled out a number of good paddles. As some folks were catching the 5pm ferry a shorter paddle was chosen, so we headed for St.Ninians Isle.
The most noticeable feature of the island is the sand tombolo, which produces good surf when the conditions are right. Like everywhere else I'd paddled so far, the coastline was again interesting and varied.
We had lunch at an unnamed cove near Inns Holm before most of the group headed down to Colsay. Jean, Tess and a few others didn't need to rush back so spent more time exploring the area. We ended the day at a lovely little cove next to Spiggie where a couple of anglers were fishing for sea trout with trout rods and lines with a fair bit of success.After the symposium, those that stayed on made plans to do their own thing for the rest of the week. The following selection are from Pete's and Mike McClure's trip to Papa Stour. Mike also managed to get some quite good cave shots, as well as the video clip of Pete having a bit of fun.
Jean and Tess started the week by joining a club organised trip from Westerwick. It was an out and back paddle for all bar Jean, who decided to do an extended paddle back to Bridge End taking in Hildasay, Oxna and the surrounding Scalloway islands on the way. Travelling back to the centre by kayak was far more direct than doing so by car.
The following day there was another trip to Papa Stour.
On the Thursday, Jean and Tess went to Eshaness on their own. They visited the sunken subterranean passage known as The Holes of Scraada pictured below.
Our most active guides over the ten days were Tam, Jim (pictured below) and Ian (shown dancing with Beth later). We were all grateful to them for giving up their time, but I like to think that they enjoyed themselves nearly as much as we did.
While everyone else was paddling, I'd decided to take a cycling tour for the rest of the week, hence the bicycle. From what I'd heard, Eshaness and the surrounding area was a great place to see. It was also vaguely in the right direction for Unst the following weekend. The plan was to take in a few scenic loops on the way, so my route was to go via Tingwall, Weisdale, Bixter and up to Voe before getting back to main roads again. First stop was the fish shop just outside Scalloway (GR HU 409397) as the fresh fish in Shetland was second to none. My second stop was for lunch at Weisdale Mill. The menu was enticing yet not pricey. I opted for Cullen Sink and some Blue Lady tea while I was waiting. It was far too civilized for riff-raff like me, but nobody suggested I leave, despite the tight lycra shorts and dripping sweat onto the table. The dish came with just a single slice of home made bread. It was a bit like soda bread made with a multi grain/seeded flour. It was absolutely delicious, as was the soup. It was a good job that bread wasn't offered separately on the menu, as I'd have probably scoffed a whole loaf. And all the food was prepared in a kitchen that would make most ships galleys look spacious.After Bixter, the climb with a fully laden bicycle into a stiff breeze, up the pass heading over to Voe was beginning to sap my strength. At least I hadn't overdone lunch. Tess, a highly experienced touring cyclist, had advised me that there weren't any really difficult climbs in Shetland. Well it may not have been the Alps, but by my standards this was tough. The sun was shining and the views were brilliant, so the decision to pull over to take it all in was a no brainer.
While lying on the grass by the side of the road, resting and re-hydrating, I was very tempted to call it a day and pitch my tent, despite having already booked a bed in Eshaness. However, lack of food, water and something a bit stronger meant that staying put wasn't an option. So I studied the OS map and a magic symbol rose from the screen....PH....and you don't see too many of those in Shetland outside Lerwick. Not only that, there was a choice of two in Voe. There was a God after all! With newly acquired motivation my speed of ascent increased dramatically or at least it did psychologically. The descent into Voe should have been 'a breeze', but the increasing headwind meant I still had to pedal on occasion.The first pint didn't touch the sides and neither did the second. The pub was empty, hardly surprising mid week and mid afternoon, but the barmaid was good company once I'd persuaded her to speak a little more slooowwwly. After one for the road, pangs of hunger were coming from my stomach. With a belly full of beer, only a curry would do, but that wasn't an option here in Shetland. Not so! I had been reliably informed that there was an Indian takeaway in Brae, only a further 5/6 miles north. I arrived at 5.30pm, normally a tad early for a curry, but hey I was on holiday. A vindaloo with extra chillies would have been the normal drunken choice, but I would be sharing a confined four bed bunk room later, so just a little consideration was called for (Jimski - take note here). Brae was not exactly overrun with outdoor eating spots, so I settled for the green outside the public convenience on the main road and chatted to friendly passers by who enquired about my day. All I needed now was a nice cuppa. I went into Brae Hotel, ordered a pot of tea and discovered I could get online for a mere £1 for 3 hours. An hour or two later, after recharging my batteries (both laptop and body) I headed to the Co-op for supplies. As it doesn't really get properly dark in Shetland mid summer, I didn't need to rush to my final destination. The small painting below captures the essence of the Johnnie Notions camping böd where I was staying far better than a photograph.
I awoke pretty late the following morning and was grateful to have a proper mattress for a bed rather a camping mat. I'd hoped I would sweat out the last of my cold the previous day, but alas I felt rather rough again, so I was in no hurry to get 'oot an aboot'. Besides, the böd had been surrounded by sheep, so I was going nowhere.
At lunchtime, I headed down to Braewick, pitched my tent on the campsite and went to the cafe for food. After lunch, a little nap was called for, but I didn't awake again until 9pm. I hadn't gone to Shetland to spend all my time sleeping! Fortunately, it was far from dark so I cycled down to Eshaness lighthouse to take a look at the cliffs. While climbing the last hill a car with kayaks on top was heading towards me. It was Dave & Lucy and they had just been watching a pod of orca which were now heading south toward Stenness. I abandoned my bicycle, jumped in the car and we made a dash for Stenness. Within a minute of arrival the pod was spotted so we headed over to get a closer look. I'd never seen any kind of whale before, so the experience was completely magical. The pod remained in the same spot for about 15 minutes, which went in an instant. I'd got my camera out, but the brain failed to register the fact that photos don't get taken by themselves. After the pod (a huge male, three females and a baby) left us, we talked about what it would be like to encounter killer whales close up in a kayak and came to the conclusion that it would probably be pretty scary.By the following morning I'd developed ear ache too, but as I'd planned to walk round the Eshaness peninsula that's exactly what I did. It was an excellent walk, but I couldn't help thinking that it would have been a much better paddle.
By late afternoon I'd packed up and begun the journey to Unst with half a loo roll sticking out of my left ear. En route I passed Sullom Voe oil terminal and was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't the complete eyesore I expected.We were using Gardiesfauld Youth Hostel as a base, but most folks were camping. I decided to break the journey into two and stayed the night at Mid Yell camping böd pictured below.
On the ferry over to Yell I bumped into local paddler Bonar, so I asked if the pub(s) on the island was any good. He must have been in a rush as he spoke at twice his normal rate, so I just nodded politely, but left none the wiser.I set off quite early the following morning in order to have breakfast at the Wind Dog Cafe in Gutcher. At least my virus hadn't affected either my thirst or appetite. Breakfast wasn't fantastic, but the selection of assorted cakes on offer looked excellent. It wasn't long before other paddlers were arriving at the cafe to await their place on the ferry.
By the time I got to the hostel I was in quite a bit of pain with my ear, so I went to the doctors in Baltasound to get checked out. The doctor assured me that I didn't have a brain tumour, but I did have badly inflamed inner ear and warned me that it could lead to a perforated ear drum if I had an OBE (out of boat experience). So, it was quite important that I remained upright then! As the antibiotics and painkillers I'd been given allowed me to drink we called in at Valhalle Brewery for some beer to take back with us. The weather wasn't at its best so only a few folk went paddling. I took to my bed yet again, dosed up on pills and consoled myself with some Baltasound Bakery oat biscuits, which I'd best describe as rusks for adults and rather yummy! I awoke in time for dinner, but unfortunately it was deep fried fish and tatties. I'd never cared for anything battered, with the exception of tempura prawns when they're done well, but food was food. However, the fish prepared by Ian & Beth using a secret recipe was the best fried fish I had ever tasted and there was lots of it. You'll never go hungry when being fed by a Shetlander.
In case you're thinking that my plate looks a bit greasy, that's the remains of lashing of tartar sauce from a previous helping.On Saturday morning it was a little breezy again, so most folks took the day off from paddling and went walking in Hermaness. The following are some photos of wildlife in the area.
The rest of us did a paddle from Lunda Wick back to the hostel in Uyeasound, starting late in the day to avoid tricky wind against tide conditions in Bluemull Sound earlier on. That evening there was an excellent BBQ followed by Unst Regatta dance where failing to have a good time would have been an impossibility.
Over the symposium period, everyone had been looking forward to a paddle out to Muckle Flugga, the most northerly point in the British Isles. Fortunately the wind and swell had died down enough to make it a goer on the last day. Some of our group wanted to include Out Stack, which often has difficult conditions on the northern side, so we paddled a ferry glide course to get there. On arrival, there was indeed a tidal race running, but it didn't look too bad. However, there was a fair bit of swell, so as it was an unknown quantity we passed the stack to the south heading towards Muckle lighthouse.
We took a break from paddling at the lighthouse, but didn't land. Then we headed back to the mainland rounding Herma Ness and encountered gannets everywhere. Where there are gannets there are bonxies attacking them to rob them of fish. Unfortunately, in their world mob rule is the natural way of things. We continued until we arrived at an impressive arch at Toolie where we took another short break to watch the thousands of gannets.
As we set off again, Ken & Pen in their double decided to take a route through some tight gullies approaching the arch. The conditions were moderate so it was doable, but timing the wave sets was crucial. Unfortunately, their timing was a little out and a swim was inevitable, so we had some fun emptying a double and getting them back in their boat. Not long after setting off again we saw a gannet in the water entangled in some broken fishing net. Arthur and Jean went to the rescue cutting it free giving it a good chance of recovery.
We continued south, exploring the coast on the way, stopping at Wood Wick for a late lunch. By this time it was raining a little along with a noticeable drop in temperature and it was the first time I'd felt cold in the whole time I'd spent in Shetland.Before setting off again, we congregated in the mouth of the bay. While we were regrouping, Tam called out that he'd spotted killer whales, west towards the horizon, but nobody else had seen them. After looking, waiting and seeing nothing, I suppose we all thought it had been a touch of over enthusiasm. Then a couple of minutes later Tam called out again, but this time a few others had seen them too. They were over by North Holms and I'd pretty quickly figured out that they were heading towards South Holms. I can't remember exactly what I was thinking, but while everyone else seemed happy to watch from a distance, I just had to get closer. Powered by pure adrenaline, I was off as fast as I could paddle towards South Holms. I don't think a plastic Aquanaut has ever travelled quite so quickly. Before long the rest of the group were following. As I got close to the islets so did the large male leading the pod. While it was silently porpoising I was silently gob smacked by six feet of dorsal fin coming towards to me and it was getting nearer by the second. It was enormous! I fumbled around for my camera, but repeatedly failed to get a half decent shot. This was the same pod I'd seen at Eshaness a few days earlier.
The pod disappeared for a while and then reappeared about five minutes later very close to the mainland coast in the cove by Skitsack. They swam up and down the shoreline obviously in search of food. After the cove had been scoured they continued round the point towards The Trinks O'Clave. I took a shortcut through some gullies on the headland so I could keep up with them. As I paddled through a narrow gully one of the females swam up from the opposite end towards me and went under my boat.By that time we'd more or less re-grouped. As we continued down the coast so did the whales, almost certainly in pursuit of food.
By the time we arrived in North Sound off Westing the behaviour of the pod had distinctly changed. They started circling round and round for quite some time. I wondered whether it was some kind of play or maybe they were even putting on a display for us. It soon became apparent that the pod were hunting a seal or seals. Jean managed to get the following short video clip on what memory was left on her card.The pod had stayed with us on and off for two hours or more. On getting ashore, the atmosphere was electric. It was an experience that none of us would forget.
Thanks to Jean, Tess, Pete, Pen and Mike McClure for letting me use their photos and again to Mike McClure and Jean for letting me use their video clips.
Graeme
Wednesday, 17 September 2008
East Coast Week
North Yorkshire (Sunday)
Our paddle along the Durham Heritage Coast took us from Harlepool past the famous headland where there are 3 historical sites in stark contrast. The peaceful Church of St Hilda stands dangerously close to the Heugh Gun Battery, yet nearby and seemingly undetterred by the proximity of bibles and battles, stands a bronze statue of Andy Capp clutching a pint of ale. A little to the north the coastline is dominated by Magnesian Limestone outcrops, caves, pinnacles and deserted shingle beaches. One landing in dumping surf was enough to keep us in our boats for the rest of the day. The only potential exception may have been amongst the relentless and disorientating clapotis ridden seas near the entrance to Seaham Harbour. Thankfully we safely crossed the harbour entrance.
Bums remained firmly planted upon seats until kayaks were firmly planted upon Seaham Beach. Upon our return to the caravan we were joined by Ray and Graeme.
The 5 of us continued in the morning with a short sunny interval but once we arrived at Sunderland dark grey clouds began to gather once more. The coast between Sunderland and South Shields is a delightful mixture of rocky coves and caves, with arches, inlets and islets. We spent over an hour marveling at this short stretch beneath Souter Lighthouse before landing close to the Marsden Grotto pub at Marsden Bay.
Back at the caravan a great feast was prepared in honour of the days fine and respectable journey, then devoured by all in minutes with less than honourable style.
The Tydal Tyne (Thursday)
In search of calmer waters we aimed to go placidly amongst the noise and haste of Gateshead and Newcastle upon Tyne.
The paddling idea of descending the ebbing waters of the Tyne was simple but the reality of the logistics took plenty of cunning and patience. If the peace of the paddle wasn't shattered by the dumping surf landing beside South Pier then it was lost amongst the Gateshead rush hour traffic.
The North Tyne Coast (Friday)
The adorably named Seaton Sluice was to be the start and finish of the day's paddling. We headed south towards Tynemouth. Our journey took us past 'the Sluice' and beyond the desolate reefs disused lighthouse of St Mary's Island. After crossing Whitley Bay and Cullercoates we landed through the surf at Longsands for a delicious hot chocolate treat at Crusoe's beach cafe before heading back. The return was slower than anticipated as wind and tide turned against us but the final hurdle was yet to come. Surf was now breaking heavily off the headland, over the sands and across the harbour entrance at Seaton Sluice.
Careful timing and questionable skills aided our return. Not so much landing but controlled washings up!
Cresswell and Newbiggin (Saturday)
Overnight rain, the forecast of strong winds and heavy swell brought about anticlimactic feelings amongst Peter Ray and me. Peter went off in search of tea shops and surf whilst Ray and I opted for a spot of bird watching amongst the flooded dune slacks of Cresswell.
Twitchers had flocked in from a far to catch glimpses of various lost feathered souls. Buff Breasted Sandpiper, Black Tern and Ruff were amongst the scrutinees.
The three of us gorged ourselves on a final supper washed down with plenty of wine before sleep preceded our respective journeys home. Thanks are due to Ray, Peter, Richard and Graeme for their company through various parts of the week.
I met with Richard at Saltburn by the Sea to investigate the surf conditions that are well thought of in the region. The messy conditions were already being endured by many so we decided to head off for quieter and cleaner conditions elsewhere. 
Skinningrove, where the fishing fleet are celebrated with this fine monument, looked gloomy and messy too so we decided to descend upon quieter cleaner conditions at Runswick Bay.
Skinningrove, where the fishing fleet are celebrated with this fine monument, looked gloomy and messy too so we decided to descend upon quieter cleaner conditions at Runswick Bay.Teeside (Monday)
Our presence along the coasts of Redcar, Teesmouth, Seaton and Hartlepool were met with comic suspicion and a relentless supply of 'John Darwin' jocularity. I came to the conclusion that the main attraction to paddling from Saltburn to Hartlepool is avoiding the traffic chaos of Teeside. 
After visiting the ancient semi submerged wreck at Seaton Carew beach we went in search of enlightenment at the dockside Museum Of Hartlepool. Following our taxing day off the water we found refuge at the Crimdon Dene Caravan Park north of Hartlepool where Peter was waiting with baited breath anticipating a cunning plan for the following days paddling.
After visiting the ancient semi submerged wreck at Seaton Carew beach we went in search of enlightenment at the dockside Museum Of Hartlepool. Following our taxing day off the water we found refuge at the Crimdon Dene Caravan Park north of Hartlepool where Peter was waiting with baited breath anticipating a cunning plan for the following days paddling. The Durham Heritage Coast (Tuesday)
Our paddle along the Durham Heritage Coast took us from Harlepool past the famous headland where there are 3 historical sites in stark contrast. The peaceful Church of St Hilda stands dangerously close to the Heugh Gun Battery, yet nearby and seemingly undetterred by the proximity of bibles and battles, stands a bronze statue of Andy Capp clutching a pint of ale. A little to the north the coastline is dominated by Magnesian Limestone outcrops, caves, pinnacles and deserted shingle beaches. One landing in dumping surf was enough to keep us in our boats for the rest of the day. The only potential exception may have been amongst the relentless and disorientating clapotis ridden seas near the entrance to Seaham Harbour. Thankfully we safely crossed the harbour entrance.
Bums remained firmly planted upon seats until kayaks were firmly planted upon Seaham Beach. Upon our return to the caravan we were joined by Ray and Graeme.Sunderland (Wednesday)
The 5 of us continued in the morning with a short sunny interval but once we arrived at Sunderland dark grey clouds began to gather once more. The coast between Sunderland and South Shields is a delightful mixture of rocky coves and caves, with arches, inlets and islets. We spent over an hour marveling at this short stretch beneath Souter Lighthouse before landing close to the Marsden Grotto pub at Marsden Bay.
Back at the caravan a great feast was prepared in honour of the days fine and respectable journey, then devoured by all in minutes with less than honourable style.The Tydal Tyne (Thursday)
In search of calmer waters we aimed to go placidly amongst the noise and haste of Gateshead and Newcastle upon Tyne.
The paddling idea of descending the ebbing waters of the Tyne was simple but the reality of the logistics took plenty of cunning and patience. If the peace of the paddle wasn't shattered by the dumping surf landing beside South Pier then it was lost amongst the Gateshead rush hour traffic.The North Tyne Coast (Friday)
The adorably named Seaton Sluice was to be the start and finish of the day's paddling. We headed south towards Tynemouth. Our journey took us past 'the Sluice' and beyond the desolate reefs disused lighthouse of St Mary's Island. After crossing Whitley Bay and Cullercoates we landed through the surf at Longsands for a delicious hot chocolate treat at Crusoe's beach cafe before heading back. The return was slower than anticipated as wind and tide turned against us but the final hurdle was yet to come. Surf was now breaking heavily off the headland, over the sands and across the harbour entrance at Seaton Sluice.
Careful timing and questionable skills aided our return. Not so much landing but controlled washings up!Cresswell and Newbiggin (Saturday)
Overnight rain, the forecast of strong winds and heavy swell brought about anticlimactic feelings amongst Peter Ray and me. Peter went off in search of tea shops and surf whilst Ray and I opted for a spot of bird watching amongst the flooded dune slacks of Cresswell.
Twitchers had flocked in from a far to catch glimpses of various lost feathered souls. Buff Breasted Sandpiper, Black Tern and Ruff were amongst the scrutinees.The three of us gorged ourselves on a final supper washed down with plenty of wine before sleep preceded our respective journeys home. Thanks are due to Ray, Peter, Richard and Graeme for their company through various parts of the week.
Monday, 1 September 2008
Isle of Skye, August
For one reason and another, plans with my mate Phil for sea kayaking haven't coincided too well this year and I was starting to feel frustrated when seeing some great photos on the UK rivers guidebook web site of peoples sea kayaking trips on the West coast of Scotland. To cut a long story short a climbing trip to Zermatt looked doubtful as another close friend was taking time to commit and so I decided to get myself some coaching with Gordon Brown based on the Isle of Skye. Gordon (not the prime minister) Brown is one of only three doubly qualified level 5 coaches (Sea & Inland kayak) in Scotland. This is the highest coach award achievable in the UK. He wrote the chapter on sea kayaking in the BCU handbook and has since wrote a manual for intermediate and advanced kayakers simply titled "Sea Kayak". He owns and runs skyakadventures.com based on Sleat and is a thoroughly nice guy.
I took a weekend to slowly drive the 520 miles to Isle Ornsay, Skye. My plan was to climb a few peaks along the way and generally settle into "the groove". Friday night was a long haul from the Midlands up to Arrochar near Loch Lomond where I bivied down at the side of the road for the night. Unfortunately the weather didn't play ball. My planned hike up Ben Arthur (The Cobbler) didn't appeal in torrential rain so Saturday was spent in and around Oban just taking in the atmosphere. I took a look at the falls of Lora, the outfall of Loch Etive, which feature heavily on the DVD "This is the sea 3". They look pretty awesome.
Usually happy to rough it in a tent or bunkhouse it's been over 20 years since I last stopped in a B&B, but I thought it would be a more comfortable option while on the course. I duly arrived on Skye late on Sunday; passing the familiar sight of Eilean Donan Castle near the Kyle of Loch Alsh along the way. I left my heart somewhere along the A87 many years ago and just feel content whenever I make my way back there. Mrs. MacKay was there to greet me as I pulled onto the driveway of her B&B and she invited me into her home as one of her family. I think she enjoyed "mothering" me all week !
The first day was spent at Armadale. The wind was blowing force 6 ! We spent some time playing under the small pier, weaving in and around it's pylons while the sea swell lifted us up and down. I guess Gordon then assessed our different levels of competence. Nearby are a few small islands. They gave us shelter in the lee of the wind and the opportunity to push the comfort zone in small doses. A few hours were spent here just circling around, getting dumped on by surf crashing over the reef and surviving. It really was an adrenaline fueled day! Gordon just inspires confidence to get on and push your own limits. This comes from over 300 days on the water every year.
Our second day was spent near Kyleakin. We paddled under the bridge and caught a few eddy lines. There were seals to see and a flock of around 16 herons took off from a nearby island as we came in for lunch. Some navigation was done as was time calculation and strokes paddled against distance and all around is always the fantastic backdrop of wonderful scenery.
Scenery wise, Thursday was the best day of the week and undoubtedly a dream come true. I had long wanted to paddle up Loch Scavaig and into the back of the Cuillin mountains. The day dawned and there was not a cloud in the sky. We were joined by two guys from Tasmania and set off from Elgol for a day that I'll remember for the rest of my life. Lunch was spent on the beach at the head of Loch Scavaig where I went for a swim. After lunch we took the short walk up to Loch Coruisk which lies at the heart of the Cuillin. The pictures tell more than I can ever describe... 
With the paddling finished I headed for the Cuillin on Saturday. I had my sights on a solo of the inaccessible pinnacle. The weather played ball this time and I hiked my way into Coire Lagan with the history of Scottish Mountaineering surrounding me.
A false start scrambling on An Stac had self doubt raising in my mind but when I backed off and found a better alternative route things went fine. I reached the summit of the In-Pin just as a guide was setting up to lower off his two clients. Yes, I had feeling of smug satisfaction that I'd soled the route that they had just paid good money to be lead up and I must have been grinning from ear to ear. I gave my camera to the guide and he took a few snaps as I abseiled off. Lunch together and then I set off along the ridge eventually to finish on the summit of Sgur Alasdair, the highest peak on Skye and a fitting end to a brilliant week.
I took a weekend to slowly drive the 520 miles to Isle Ornsay, Skye. My plan was to climb a few peaks along the way and generally settle into "the groove". Friday night was a long haul from the Midlands up to Arrochar near Loch Lomond where I bivied down at the side of the road for the night. Unfortunately the weather didn't play ball. My planned hike up Ben Arthur (The Cobbler) didn't appeal in torrential rain so Saturday was spent in and around Oban just taking in the atmosphere. I took a look at the falls of Lora, the outfall of Loch Etive, which feature heavily on the DVD "This is the sea 3". They look pretty awesome.
Usually happy to rough it in a tent or bunkhouse it's been over 20 years since I last stopped in a B&B, but I thought it would be a more comfortable option while on the course. I duly arrived on Skye late on Sunday; passing the familiar sight of Eilean Donan Castle near the Kyle of Loch Alsh along the way. I left my heart somewhere along the A87 many years ago and just feel content whenever I make my way back there. Mrs. MacKay was there to greet me as I pulled onto the driveway of her B&B and she invited me into her home as one of her family. I think she enjoyed "mothering" me all week !I slept like a log and when Monday morning arrived I assembled with the other "pupils" next door at Gordon's home. The old croft house has been converted with a small meeting room, drying and kit room, etc. and outside he has almost 60 different sea kayaks from different manufacturers available for use. Some time was spent introducing ourselves and talking about what we wanted to gain from a weeks coaching. Gordon tailors his courses to meet clients needs and there are no set rules ...apart from that you must smile! There were 5 of us on the course plus one girl "shadowing" Gordon for more experience towards her 3* coaching qualification. Between us we suggested items we'd like to cover ; efficient strokes, deepwater rescue, towing, navigation, tidal races, surf landings, etc and this formed the basis for the weeks fun.
The first day was spent at Armadale. The wind was blowing force 6 ! We spent some time playing under the small pier, weaving in and around it's pylons while the sea swell lifted us up and down. I guess Gordon then assessed our different levels of competence. Nearby are a few small islands. They gave us shelter in the lee of the wind and the opportunity to push the comfort zone in small doses. A few hours were spent here just circling around, getting dumped on by surf crashing over the reef and surviving. It really was an adrenaline fueled day! Gordon just inspires confidence to get on and push your own limits. This comes from over 300 days on the water every year. 
Our second day was spent near Kyleakin. We paddled under the bridge and caught a few eddy lines. There were seals to see and a flock of around 16 herons took off from a nearby island as we came in for lunch. Some navigation was done as was time calculation and strokes paddled against distance and all around is always the fantastic backdrop of wonderful scenery. Each evening was spent in the pub grabbing some of the local cuisine and chatting with others on the course about the days events and dreams of adventure for the future. Wednesday saw us paddling at Kyle Rhea where the ferry comes in from the mainland. It's through these narrows that waters of Loch Alsh and the Sound of Sleat drain back and forth every 6 hours with the turning of the tide. The spring tide can flow at around 10 Knots and according to Gordon the waves can be "as big as houses". Fortunately (for us) we were close to neap tide which runs at about half that rate. We spent the day improving turning strokes, catching eddies, we saw the rule of thirds in action and did a bit of surfing on some standing waves as the tide turned.
Scenery wise, Thursday was the best day of the week and undoubtedly a dream come true. I had long wanted to paddle up Loch Scavaig and into the back of the Cuillin mountains. The day dawned and there was not a cloud in the sky. We were joined by two guys from Tasmania and set off from Elgol for a day that I'll remember for the rest of my life. Lunch was spent on the beach at the head of Loch Scavaig where I went for a swim. After lunch we took the short walk up to Loch Coruisk which lies at the heart of the Cuillin. The pictures tell more than I can ever describe... 
Our last day with Gordon was again spent at Kyle Rhea. Getting closer to spring tide now the flow was greater and the waves bigger. We practiced rolls : with splits taken apart, with only one half of the paddle - always variation on a theme to reinforce the learning. A salmon trawler came through the straights and the waves really kicked up. We played on the tide race and had some great fun. I lost it at one point, capsized and knowing the rest of the party were at least 200m away - rolled first time, just when I needed it!
...and so a week of paddling was over. Probably one of the best holidays I've ever taken. The icing on the cake was that Gordon awarded a 3* (sea) to several of us, which was never the intention for me doing the course in the first place. Would I do the course again ? try and stop me! I learned loads and it reinforced a lot of what I had already learnt from pool sessions with Birmingham Canoe Club and sea trips with NWSK. Above all it's given me confidence in planning and executing my own sea trips and I hope that I'll be able to spend some time and move up another level with Skyak Adventures again next year.
With the paddling finished I headed for the Cuillin on Saturday. I had my sights on a solo of the inaccessible pinnacle. The weather played ball this time and I hiked my way into Coire Lagan with the history of Scottish Mountaineering surrounding me. 
A false start scrambling on An Stac had self doubt raising in my mind but when I backed off and found a better alternative route things went fine. I reached the summit of the In-Pin just as a guide was setting up to lower off his two clients. Yes, I had feeling of smug satisfaction that I'd soled the route that they had just paid good money to be lead up and I must have been grinning from ear to ear. I gave my camera to the guide and he took a few snaps as I abseiled off. Lunch together and then I set off along the ridge eventually to finish on the summit of Sgur Alasdair, the highest peak on Skye and a fitting end to a brilliant week. Tuesday, 5 August 2008
Crossing Morecambe Bay #2 (heading South)
Following the success of the journey north, our return to The Fylde Coast from Piel Island was to be a little more of a challenge. Our target this time was to be Fleetwood. Strong coffee and tea were consumed to boost our resolve. The prospect at carrying our boats to the low water was almost enough to keep us in bed! But by 9-00am were were paddling out of the Piel Channel against the incoming tide and out into Morecambe Bay.
By the time were making our way out past the outer channel marks at South East Walney we were struggling to make any headway at all and the gloomy skies did little to lift our spirits.
As we turned to make for Fleetwood we aimed our bows due south using Blackpool Tower as a visual reference and all seemed well for a while. After about an hour it was becoming clear that it was going to take much more time and effort to reach Fleetwood than we anticipated, despite the shorter distance.
We were being swept east faster than we had thought likely. The westerly breeze wasn't helping matters and conditions in some of the overfalls were both challenging and exhilarating (sorry no photos). We were unintentionally approaching the hungry jaws of the Lune Estuary when we found renewed resolve during a mars bar break, just as the tide began to loosen its grip on us.
After over four and a half hours on the waters of Morecambe Bay Peter and I arrived exhausted but relieved on Fleetwood Beach. Although some small children helped us to carry our boats ashore we still didn't have the strength for a pint at the conveniently situated 'Wyre Lounge Bar'.
By the time were making our way out past the outer channel marks at South East Walney we were struggling to make any headway at all and the gloomy skies did little to lift our spirits.As we turned to make for Fleetwood we aimed our bows due south using Blackpool Tower as a visual reference and all seemed well for a while. After about an hour it was becoming clear that it was going to take much more time and effort to reach Fleetwood than we anticipated, despite the shorter distance.
We were being swept east faster than we had thought likely. The westerly breeze wasn't helping matters and conditions in some of the overfalls were both challenging and exhilarating (sorry no photos). We were unintentionally approaching the hungry jaws of the Lune Estuary when we found renewed resolve during a mars bar break, just as the tide began to loosen its grip on us.
After over four and a half hours on the waters of Morecambe Bay Peter and I arrived exhausted but relieved on Fleetwood Beach. Although some small children helped us to carry our boats ashore we still didn't have the strength for a pint at the conveniently situated 'Wyre Lounge Bar'.
Saturday, 2 August 2008
Crossing Morecambe Bay #1 (heading North)
With the aim of reching Piel Island near Barrow in Furness, Peter and I set off from Rossall near Cleveleys on the north Fylde Coast this Morning. The crossing involves making a 20 km ferryglide accross the powerful flood tides of Morecambe Bay.
The water was choppy right from the start and even leaving the beach presented its difficulties.
Conditions remained choppy for most of the crossing and we encountered some more challenging overfalls before we had reached the half way point. The second half of the crossing was in some ways easier but with a littltiedness setting in I was finding it difficult to maintain a good pace and my cockpit plenty of water.
Eventually after 3 hours and 25 minutes Peter and I arrived on the eastern shore of Piel Island and I discovered why my boat had been so sluggish. I had not fully sealed the rear hatch cover and most of my posessions were floating around gently in plenty of Irish Sea water!
The water was choppy right from the start and even leaving the beach presented its difficulties.Conditions remained choppy for most of the crossing and we encountered some more challenging overfalls before we had reached the half way point. The second half of the crossing was in some ways easier but with a littltiedness setting in I was finding it difficult to maintain a good pace and my cockpit plenty of water.Eventually after 3 hours and 25 minutes Peter and I arrived on the eastern shore of Piel Island and I discovered why my boat had been so sluggish. I had not fully sealed the rear hatch cover and most of my posessions were floating around gently in plenty of Irish Sea water!
Sunday, 27 July 2008
Kate and St Kilda
Having taken the place of first lady in the Coquet Island Race, Kate Duffus is now spending the summer working as an instructor in the Outer Hebredies. Kate kindly sent some photos from a reconaisance trip to St Kilda by RIB.
"It was amazing. A wonderful atmospheric place to explore and an exhilarating boat ride to get there. This trip was without kayaks, just exploring on foot when we got there, but I'm hoping to get out again soon with kayaks to go exploring the magnificent cliffs and arches by paddle power.
The boat trip takes between one and a half and two hours from Griminish Harbour on North Uist to Village Bay on St Kilda. Around the islands we saw loads of puffins and thousands of gannets, hardly surprising as St Kilda is the worlds biggest gannetry. On the way back we saw dolphins."
Fish Chips and Mushy Peasoup
In search of adventure, I met with Dave and Jules at the Yorkshire seaside town of Filey to paddle along the coast to Scarborough. I had never ventured along this stretch of coastline before and having now made a successful return journey, I feel very much none the wiser.
Shortly after leaving the beach in pleasant morning sunshine we ventured around the Filey Brigg, which is the headland and reef the forms the northern end of Filey bay. Within minutes we found ourselves in choppy conditions with dense fog locally known as 'sea fret' descending dramatically allowing us to see less than 50 metres at times. The sea conditions soon relented but it was difficult to see the shore. Pinpointing our position was tricky making map and compass essential and GPS quite reassuring.
Our 16km trip was plagued by the fret for all but the last 2 km of the approach to Scarborough where we were landed in brilliant sunshine amongst crowds of holidaymakers indulging in the great British seaside tradition of sandcastles, deckchairs and knotted hanky head wear. We opted for another great British seaside institution - Fish and Chips! It was hoped that adding mushy peas to the equation we might please the gods in the hope that they would leave our return journey clear.
It is now clear that we got that one quite wrong! Within minutes of leaving Scarborough we were paddling in fog thicker than before, making route finding amongst the reefs beneath Grissthorpe Cliff quite tricky.
Eventually we found Filey Brigg and the only challenge between us and a safe return. The north going tidal stream combined with some gentle swell to give us a roller coaster ride into Filey Bay where the mist promptly cleared allowing us to find our cars and, more importantly a tea shop.
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Dave and Jules for their company on this foggy trip. No doubt I will return very soon to see what this stretch of coastline actually looks like.
Shortly after leaving the beach in pleasant morning sunshine we ventured around the Filey Brigg, which is the headland and reef the forms the northern end of Filey bay. Within minutes we found ourselves in choppy conditions with dense fog locally known as 'sea fret' descending dramatically allowing us to see less than 50 metres at times. The sea conditions soon relented but it was difficult to see the shore. Pinpointing our position was tricky making map and compass essential and GPS quite reassuring.
Our 16km trip was plagued by the fret for all but the last 2 km of the approach to Scarborough where we were landed in brilliant sunshine amongst crowds of holidaymakers indulging in the great British seaside tradition of sandcastles, deckchairs and knotted hanky head wear. We opted for another great British seaside institution - Fish and Chips! It was hoped that adding mushy peas to the equation we might please the gods in the hope that they would leave our return journey clear.
It is now clear that we got that one quite wrong! Within minutes of leaving Scarborough we were paddling in fog thicker than before, making route finding amongst the reefs beneath Grissthorpe Cliff quite tricky.
Eventually we found Filey Brigg and the only challenge between us and a safe return. The north going tidal stream combined with some gentle swell to give us a roller coaster ride into Filey Bay where the mist promptly cleared allowing us to find our cars and, more importantly a tea shop.I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Dave and Jules for their company on this foggy trip. No doubt I will return very soon to see what this stretch of coastline actually looks like.
Friday, 4 July 2008
Norway Summer 07 Blog - Better Late than never
Last summer Sue and I took a trip to Norway for some Walking/mountain biking and or course Paddling. Taking the over night ferry from Newcastle to Burgen found us in a rather wet Norway (wettest for 30 years).
The first couple of days we took in the sights and smells of Burgen doing the touristy stuff.
With that over and done with we headed north a couple of hours and found our camp in the small village of Flam (pronounced Flom) on the shores of Aurlandsfjorden, one of the many branches of the worlds second largest fjord – Sognefjorden, 204 kilometre long from sea to glacier.
By night nothing more than a small sleepy village and camp site. By day usually two very large cruise ships would turn up and deposit large numbers of Dutch/English/Italian/German tourists off for tourist shop spending.
The first few days gave way to walking and mountain biking, and trust me it's all very hilly.
Eventually, the boats were dusted down and spray decks set tight as we ventured into Norway’s narrowest Fjord, Naeroyfjorden. Thousand metre cliffs depositing free-falling melt water from the glaciers set a rather dramatic back drop. The water was crystal clear and a little cold for any un-planned swims, so a steady course was set for the route ahead. On leaving the harbour, Sue was swamped (most of it swallowed) by a small Tsunami created by the approaching passenger ferry full of more tourists heading to the tourist shop.
The approaching Cruise ship though was giving me a little
more for concern as even from a distance it looked a little large. As it happened a rather large ship
produced little, if any wake. That is until an armada of launches full of gold clad Italians headed
ashore like an invading Roman army. That boat looked big at a distance, but almost too big to fit 'in' theFjord close up, how it turned around to leave must come with practice. Anyway, no swimming was required in what was one of the most dramatic places I have yet paddled.
More biking and walking was enjoyed before it was time to move North again, this time to Balustrand, same Fjord, different side.
We had swapped our 'luxury' tent for a 'luxury' tin hut the Norwegians call a cabin made of crinkly tin.This was in quite a nice spot over looking Fjaerlandsfjorden surrounded by 2000m peaks. In between more rain and more rain, the sun occasionally came out to produce rainbows every where. Our next paddle trip was to paddle from Esefjorden out to Sognefjorden to Balustrand.
With the rain clearing we set off up a rather tranquil stretch of mirror like water clear enough to see 10m+ to the bottom. With massive water falls everywhere thundering out of the mountains just added to the mystical feel to a beautiful country, despite the rain. Due to this being a holiday and not just a paddling trip, our time on the water was limited. So maybe next time ?
On our return ferry journey we met a fellow paddler, James Baxter who had just spent 10 weeks in Norway and 10 days soloing around the Lofoton Islands - lucky bugger! James has climbed and written a book http://www.scandinavianmountains.com/books/index.htm on all of Norway’s 2000m peaks. His next planned trip come the winter is to ski tour from Oslo up to Nordkapp arriving late spring. Then solo paddle down the Norwegian crinkly coast back to Oslo. Now that's what I call a trip. If you ever get the chance to go to Norway, take it with both hands. For those of you into winter sports, such as skiing, ski-touring and ice climbing this is also the place to go, trust me.
The first couple of days we took in the sights and smells of Burgen doing the touristy stuff.
With that over and done with we headed north a couple of hours and found our camp in the small village of Flam (pronounced Flom) on the shores of Aurlandsfjorden, one of the many branches of the worlds second largest fjord – Sognefjorden, 204 kilometre long from sea to glacier.
By night nothing more than a small sleepy village and camp site. By day usually two very large cruise ships would turn up and deposit large numbers of Dutch/English/Italian/German tourists off for tourist shop spending.
The first few days gave way to walking and mountain biking, and trust me it's all very hilly.
Eventually, the boats were dusted down and spray decks set tight as we ventured into Norway’s narrowest Fjord, Naeroyfjorden. Thousand metre cliffs depositing free-falling melt water from the glaciers set a rather dramatic back drop. The water was crystal clear and a little cold for any un-planned swims, so a steady course was set for the route ahead. On leaving the harbour, Sue was swamped (most of it swallowed) by a small Tsunami created by the approaching passenger ferry full of more tourists heading to the tourist shop.
The approaching Cruise ship though was giving me a little
more for concern as even from a distance it looked a little large. As it happened a rather large ship
produced little, if any wake. That is until an armada of launches full of gold clad Italians headed
ashore like an invading Roman army. That boat looked big at a distance, but almost too big to fit 'in' theFjord close up, how it turned around to leave must come with practice. Anyway, no swimming was required in what was one of the most dramatic places I have yet paddled.
More biking and walking was enjoyed before it was time to move North again, this time to Balustrand, same Fjord, different side.
We had swapped our 'luxury' tent for a 'luxury' tin hut the Norwegians call a cabin made of crinkly tin.This was in quite a nice spot over looking Fjaerlandsfjorden surrounded by 2000m peaks. In between more rain and more rain, the sun occasionally came out to produce rainbows every where. Our next paddle trip was to paddle from Esefjorden out to Sognefjorden to Balustrand.
With the rain clearing we set off up a rather tranquil stretch of mirror like water clear enough to see 10m+ to the bottom. With massive water falls everywhere thundering out of the mountains just added to the mystical feel to a beautiful country, despite the rain. Due to this being a holiday and not just a paddling trip, our time on the water was limited. So maybe next time ?
On our return ferry journey we met a fellow paddler, James Baxter who had just spent 10 weeks in Norway and 10 days soloing around the Lofoton Islands - lucky bugger! James has climbed and written a book http://www.scandinavianmountains.com/books/index.htm on all of Norway’s 2000m peaks. His next planned trip come the winter is to ski tour from Oslo up to Nordkapp arriving late spring. Then solo paddle down the Norwegian crinkly coast back to Oslo. Now that's what I call a trip. If you ever get the chance to go to Norway, take it with both hands. For those of you into winter sports, such as skiing, ski-touring and ice climbing this is also the place to go, trust me.
Wednesday, 2 July 2008
North West Scotland 08
During the early part of June, Sue and I grabbed a pre-midge week’s trip to very North West tip of Scotland.The objective was to paddle down Loch Veyatie and climb Suilvan, one of Scotland remotest mountains.Situated 30 miles north of Ullapool it was quite a trip north from Worcestershire. We tried this two years ago but high winds curtailed that trip.
Paddling down Veyatie
This time the weather forecast looked promising.Veyatie is about 8 miles in length and land locked. Starting from Elphin Fishery (dropped the boat off and then parked back at the church) the weather was better than expected. With a light breeze to our backs we soon arrived down the loch and into Uidh Fhearna, the river that feeds Fionn Loch, but no rain for five weeks had put water levels exceptionally low.
Half an hour of dragging the boat through the shallows saw us at the camp on the shores of Fionn Loch with Suilvan looking majestic in the evening glow.Next morning a two hour hike up the ramparts soon had us on top of Suilvan giving us a view hard to beat. To the North, Cape Wrath and Ben Hope. To the West we could see the Summer Isles and beyond the Outer Hebrides. To the South Cul Mor, Cul Beag, Stac Polly and above blue sky and sunshine – it had only taken 20 years of dreaming to make it
Suilvan Camp
View from Suilvan across Inverpolly
Later back at the tent and a weather front approaching we decided to head back up Veyatie. An hour dragging the boat through the shallows, then faced with NOW a substantial wind blowing directly down the lock against us and a froth of white horses as far as you could see - bugger !Four hours later rather cold and wet a quick strip and dry clothes put us back in a more comfortable mood. But now due to some unconsiderate people, the fishery gate will be locked in future to stop cars using the access road, so a half mile portage with boat and gear just about finished us off. A quick dash back to Ullapool for fish & chips and a cosy B&B.
Finish back at Elphin Fishery (followed by a half mile portage – up hill). Unfortunately there were no pictures taken during the return paddle due to excess amounts of water on top of the boat……..
Next day saw a leisurely start to provide time for a full English breakfast, shopping and a slow drive north to Scourie camp site. This is a great camp site with views out to Handa. Once the muscles had eased a little, a trip into Loch Laxford was on the cards. This is a sheltered sea loch full of nooks and crannies. It was very scenic but lacked a little in wildlife on the day we paddled.
The last day (Friday) and Sue had decided to up her open water experience. So 'today we would be mostly paddling to Handa'. Handa is a bird sanctuary and resides in the Scottish guide book as 'recommended to be done in settled weather'.We had settled weather, so we had to go………
Launching from Scourie bay and across Handa Sound gave us very calm paddling and views across to The Outer Hebrides and the Point of Stoer - fantastic!!!! Taking the clockwise way round the skerries at the southern end provided some entertainment to us and the colony of very large grey seals soaking up the sun. Once on the west shore all became calm and a hive of activity and an abundant of bird life came into full view. 300ft high cliffs provides homes for Puffins, Guillemots, Artic Terns, Razorbills, Skua's, Great Skua's (bloody hell - there big), Cormorants, shags - all flying, fishing, diving, squawking, pooing.
There are sea stacks and arches to explore although with the birds nesting with young we kept our distance. Time passed as we just floated in amongst the melee and eventually the tide had taken us to the North end and back into Handa Sound. There are only 3 places to stop, and what a place to stop. White sand beach, aquamarine blue waters and a female Artic Tern fishing not 20 yards from us - idyllic.We opted for a longer stay on the beach and missed the option of paddling to Tarbet for an icecream and eventually and reluctantly headed back to Scourie Bay.
Scotland is hard to beat when you have good weather, and we had very good weather.Until next time…….
Sunday, 29 June 2008
Coquet Island Race weekend
The end of long haul to Northumberland on Friday night was celebrated in traditional fashion with a lengthy, well lubricated chat in Dave's new (large) tent. Before long, plans for paddling along the coast for one group and out to the Farne Islands for another were being mashed, brewed and distilled.
On Saturday morning, Ron organised a trip along the coast near to Dunstanborough Castle and Kev dragged 4 intrepid souls including me to make a dash out to the Farnes. We were rewarded with a stunning wildlife experience providing ornithogenic sensory overload for sight, hearing and smell.
Photographic opportunities were maximised as we circumnavigated the Longstone and the ever inquisitive seals came out to play. We made a brief lunch stop by the lighthouse before heading back towards the Inner Farne.
The £5.60 fee that the National Trust charge for looking round the island is worth it but it seems more like a zoo than a nature reserve. Despite the close proximity to all of the seabirds there was an amazing display of photographic equipment on show some of which resembled anti tank weaponry.
Our final treat at the Inner Farne was a chance encounter with the lesser spotted Derek Hutchinson.
Sunday dawned with Kevin making the first of his race preparations. NWSK provided over a quarter of the field for the 5.5mile 'Round the Island' sea kayak race. 
The results were impressive with Kevin in the lead for much of the course but was beaten into second place by previous race winner George Oliver. The ladies of team NWSK took 1st (Kate), 2nd Gill) and 3rd (Jean) place. A rather impressive effort all round.
Ron laid on a short apres race paddle from Blyth to St Mary's Island in the afternoon for those who had the energy and the appetite for a combination of sunshine and squally showers. Thanks to Ron for organising the camping and endless local information.
There are some more photos from the weekend in the NWSK Gallery.
On Saturday morning, Ron organised a trip along the coast near to Dunstanborough Castle and Kev dragged 4 intrepid souls including me to make a dash out to the Farnes. We were rewarded with a stunning wildlife experience providing ornithogenic sensory overload for sight, hearing and smell.
Photographic opportunities were maximised as we circumnavigated the Longstone and the ever inquisitive seals came out to play. We made a brief lunch stop by the lighthouse before heading back towards the Inner Farne.The £5.60 fee that the National Trust charge for looking round the island is worth it but it seems more like a zoo than a nature reserve. Despite the close proximity to all of the seabirds there was an amazing display of photographic equipment on show some of which resembled anti tank weaponry.
Our final treat at the Inner Farne was a chance encounter with the lesser spotted Derek Hutchinson.
Sunday dawned with Kevin making the first of his race preparations. NWSK provided over a quarter of the field for the 5.5mile 'Round the Island' sea kayak race. 
The results were impressive with Kevin in the lead for much of the course but was beaten into second place by previous race winner George Oliver. The ladies of team NWSK took 1st (Kate), 2nd Gill) and 3rd (Jean) place. A rather impressive effort all round.Ron laid on a short apres race paddle from Blyth to St Mary's Island in the afternoon for those who had the energy and the appetite for a combination of sunshine and squally showers. Thanks to Ron for organising the camping and endless local information.
There are some more photos from the weekend in the NWSK Gallery.
Sunday, 22 June 2008
Windy, wavy Walney
Plans for an overnight camp and a paddle round Walney were all but abandoned due to the onset of some pretty foul weather. Nevertheless Mark insisted on not staying at home and completing another circumnavigation just the same.
We started from the west shore at 'Cross Dike Scar' and paddled round the south east point amongst plenty of chop and swell generated by the strengthening force 4 southeasterly wind.
We landed briefly on Peil Island to make sort out misplaced footrests and jammed skegs. Mark and I found time for a swift half at the Ship Inn too!
The flooding tide and freshening force 5 (gusts of 6/7) wind rushed us up the Walney Channel. It seemed that all we had to do is steer and surf all the way to the shelter of North End Haws where we took a short sandwich and chocolate break.
Progress along the west shore was fine at first in the lee shelter and with some assistance from the ebb tide. As time went on, and as the coastline turned more southeasterly our progress slowed. The last 2km took nearly half an hour!
In the interests of keeping with tradition the post circumnavigation briefing was adjourned to the nearest pub. The Queens Arms at Biggar was perfect!
We started from the west shore at 'Cross Dike Scar' and paddled round the south east point amongst plenty of chop and swell generated by the strengthening force 4 southeasterly wind.We landed briefly on Peil Island to make sort out misplaced footrests and jammed skegs. Mark and I found time for a swift half at the Ship Inn too!
The flooding tide and freshening force 5 (gusts of 6/7) wind rushed us up the Walney Channel. It seemed that all we had to do is steer and surf all the way to the shelter of North End Haws where we took a short sandwich and chocolate break.Progress along the west shore was fine at first in the lee shelter and with some assistance from the ebb tide. As time went on, and as the coastline turned more southeasterly our progress slowed. The last 2km took nearly half an hour!
In the interests of keeping with tradition the post circumnavigation briefing was adjourned to the nearest pub. The Queens Arms at Biggar was perfect!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
