Canoe trip - Six days on three Sea Lochs.

[-Tim-]

Loch Sunart played host to our now yearly pilgrimage up North.

As with all our other Northern escapades a secret Facebook page was created to "discuss matters"

Area Information;
Loch Sunart (Scottish Gaelic Loch Shuaineart) is a sea loch on the west coast of Scotland it runs west from the sea, bounded to the north by the Sunart district of Ardnamurchan and to the south by the Morverna brutta

At 31 kilometres (19 miles) it is quite a long sea loch. At its deepest the depth of the loch is 124 metres (406 ft) east of Càrna and the entrance to Loch Teacuis.
There are a few islands in the loch (from West to east) Oronsay, Risga, Càrna, and Eilean Mòr, which lies towards the landward end of the loch in line with Beinn Resipol.

Day 1 (part one). The longest day.

On the big drive up we were in pairs, myself and Clive DS in his car, another Tim and Dave in Tim’s car and Stuart and Andy in Stu’s car.
Myself and Clive travelled up through the night to meet up with Tim and Dave at the Camping and Caravanning Clubs site at Oban, we arrived a little early at 0200 hrs so we located the visitors car park and dozed in the car until the gates of the site were opened at 0700. I sneaked in and tracked down Dave and Tim’s camp. It was easy to spot with a canoe trailer and Dave's tarp attached aka the "trailer tent" where he spent the night (much to the disbelief of the other campers). A quick trip on one of Dave’s guy ropes had alerted him to our presence. Coffee was brewed and quickly drank as the campsite slowly came to life, caravan curtains were twitching away.



The camp commandant was on his way towards the Tim/Dave camp when he must have thought against it as four men in outdoors gear were gathered with bleary eyes and steaming coffees in hand and he quickly turned towards the toilet block.
Our mini convoy set off towards the ferry at Ardour and our planned meeting with car three. We boarded the ferry for the small but time saving trip across a narrow section of Loch Linnie, the ferry ride itself felt like the real start of the expedition.

Waiting for the ferry


We pulled it to the small village of Strontian, this being the main village in area of Sunart, It lies on the north shore and close to the head of the loch. In the hills to the north of Strontian lead was mined and in these mines the mineral strontianite was discovered, from which the element strontium was first isolated. Here in this small village we planned as our finishing point.
After our final shop for supplies in the local shop we quickly discussed the car ferry, we asked one of the friendly locals who was passing by where best to park Clive’s car for week, and she pointed to a car park set back a little from the shop. We then asked permission from the shop assistant who said it was ok, we were sorted
Whilst we were unpacking Clive’s car a lady from one of the nearby houses asked us what we were doing, after telling her our plans she said she would look after the car and would call the emergency services if we miss our ETA, what wonderful people they are.
Twenty miles or so along a tight and twisty road we arrived at a tiny little bay called Port na Cross, west of Eilean Mòr. For us to put in much further west we would be paddling in a full sea state, not too wise (we thought) in fully laden open canoes.
We freed the cars and trailers of our kit and loaded up our canoes. The two drivers then “hid” the cars a short distance away.
We were now off, the weather was playing nicely, the sun was out and warmed us as we headed off to our destination, the island of Oronsay. This is an uninhabited island, low-lying, barren and rocky, deeply indented with relatively small sea lochs and when inspected via google earth it looked like an idyllic place to set up our small base camp.



The group decided it was windy enough to “hoist the sails” however I have to admit due to several packs and re-packs of my "loose gear" that would live in my boat, I had managed to leave my sail in another bag…..400 odd miles away at home.



Some of us had bought fishing kits with us with the hope to supplement our diet with fish; so feeling a little fed up being sail-less I deployed my (not so) secret weapon, a Para vane, this being an underwater “glider” that tows a lure under the water and flips to the surface when a fish is caught, it is a canny device and within minutes to my surprise I had caught a fish with it! However this slippery overactive fish promptly escaped.
We pulled into Sailean Mor, Oronsay’s largest bay to look for a place to camp. As previously stated I had been scouring the area with google earth and from space it looked rather good for tents, but the truth was far from it, the whole area around this small sea loch consisted of very uneven ground with bogs, thick ferns and “holes” deep enough to lose a leg (and even break one whilst carrying gear) we searched the bay for over an hour to no avail.

[-Tim-]

Day one (part two)

It was time to search the southern side of the isle. We paddled around the western and seaward side and into Loch na Droma Buidhe which is commonly referred to as Loch Drambuie.
En route to Loch Drambuie I was still towing the paravane, the only down side of this device was that it was like having a little sea anchor overboard, so I was a little behind the others. That didn’t bother me much because what also slowed me down more was the fact that I was catching fish! Me catching fish! ......... unbelievable!



Four lovely fat mackerel now filled my "turbo" bailer; soon enough I had caught enough for my lunch and so the paravane was pulled in, much to the relief of the local fish population.



Exploring for campsites on the southern side of the island was just as fruitless as the northern side. It was lunch time when we pulled into a little bay on the southern side of Loch na Droma Buidhe.
Lunch as it was, was a relaxed and lengthy affair. I cooked my oh so fresh mackerel in a spicy tomato paste. Ray Mears eat your heart out.



During lunch time we all decided this small bay looked a suitable place to make base camp. The tents and the tarp was soon thrown up.



In the those moments after the set up we had lost Tim, “there he is! Half way up that dead tree!” suddenly there was an almighty crash. It took two of us three trips to bring Tim’s bounty to the campfire where Clive whipped out his unfortunate and humorously named “Silky Big Boy” folding saw, (as you can imagine many jokes have been made at the expense of this saw's name, but to be honest it cuts through wood like the proverbial hot knife through butter, very impressive). The cut wood was then chopped into suitable sized fire wood with a plethora of axe’s and Stuart "broad sword".



After all the base camp chores where completed dinner was discussed; Dave had bought two large haggis which needed to be eaten, I had bought some extra rice and onion and with a sacrificed tin of chilli kidney beans, it was time for........
Haggis Chilli!



Haggis Chilli was something that I had thought of doing for a long while now but never had the opportunity, here and now was definitely the time and certainly the place to try it. With two cooking fires going in our fire boxes Dave conjured up a culinary masterpiece that defied anyone with taste buds to dislike. A post dinner whisky tasting session was had as was some Portuguese Honey Liquor and fire water. The fire water which funnily enough only myself and Dave liked, the rest of the gang choked and gagged as the fiery liquid hit body tissue and scorched its way down to the depths of their bodies, the liquor however was aptly described as "Pixies dancing on your tongue".
We sat by a fire and watched the shadows stretch across the loch as the sun went down, the first day is always the longest and as the darkness became absolute we all turned in, an early night was in order and an early night was had……



More to follow....
Cheers
Tim

[-Tim-]

Day two. Exploring in the sun.
The sunrise this morning could only be described as stunning. Cameras were out and we snapped away.

The view from the Tipi


Breakfast was had and we set off exploring Loch na Droma Buidhe. We did to be fair share our little bit of wilderness with a small yacht. We made conversation with the skipper who is slowly sailing around Britain in between work, that's enough of him from me but if you would like to know more his website / blogg is www.keepturningleft.co.uk.



Oh the eastern part of Oronsay was a "fish trap", built way back when to contain fish for harvesting when the tide goes out, this created a picturesque "micro loch".



A brief scramble exploration later four of us set off westward whilst Andy and Stuart stopped back to soak up the atmosphere. Out to sea we paddled skirting the west side of Oronsay, here we spied a small pod of porpoise breaking the surface to breath with a "ptffff" sound.



Once again the paravane proved its worth by allowing me to haul in yet another batch of fish, this time it was pollock although at the time we weren't sure what they were. We had nigh on circumnavigated Oronsay to reach the channel between Oronsay and Carna. Here we pulled ourselves onto a small island called Eilean nan Eildean for lunch . Clive caught yet more fish as they swam in the tidal race that was whizzing through the narrows. We basked in the sun whilst we processed, cooked and consumed our fish.





Before the tide changed we set off to explore Loch Teacuis.
As we entered the loch assisted by the tide the views were stunning to say the least, this was Scotland in all of its glory, having the water mirror flat and the sun out made this trip out so special, at this moment in all of the world THIS was the place to be.



We paddled/floated along the northern end of the hour glass shaped loch not wanting to go through the narrows, we would save that for another day. We searched and soon found the river Barr, for no real reason apart from it was there and we wanted to see it. The river Barr was more like a stream but with fresh and again crystal clear water.



The river water was cool and refreshing and soon enough there were the four of us standing ankle deep in the river having a very refreshing but soapless cleanse.



The tide was now on the turn and we were heading back to Camp 1. Through the Sunart /Teacuis entrance / exit again but this time the outgoing tide was in full flow, here Dave snagged his first fish and to be honest our only afternoon catch of the week.



With the water now at a higher level it allowing us to paddle over the reef that was exposed and forced us to paddle around the island,earlier that day.



Back at camp we discussed the following days campsite and decided that due to the tide and weather front moving in it would be a wise ploy to find somewhere to pitch the tents the following night. So a full exploration of Teacus was in order.
It was Stu's turn to cook and we had pizza cooked in his clever stove top oven, yum yum.



While Stu was cooking Dave prepared and then cooked his fish over the open fire.



Would you believe it a little more whisky was consumed. We were in Scotland after all.



As this was our final night here the fire boxes were removed and packed and the fire could only be described as a beacon was lit on the beach, we gazed into the flames, listening as it cackled and hissed, consuming all of the fire wood we had prepared.



More to follow.....

Cheers
Tim

[Valantine]

Looks like you found paradise

[-Tim-]

Looks like you found paradise

You bet-ya we did ....

Day three to follow in a mo.....

Cheers
Tim

[-Tim-]

Day three, the day the weather changed...
Day three's morning was a change from yesterday's sunrise as the sky was grey and over cast, fortunately for us there was little to no wind as we retraced our steps to Loch Teacuis, again as yesterday we were escorted by some porpoise.



Once again we fished for lunch, between us we caught four pollock of reasonable size and three mackerel.




The scenery although overcast and with low lying cloud was more dramatic than the previous day exactly how I imagined Scotland to be in September.


We floated in on the incoming tide, the canoes spread across the calm loch, each paddler wrapped up with their own thoughts, out of immediate earshot but never out of view of each other.



The first part of the loch was soon past and we were heading for the bottleneck, time for pastures new and the hunt for camp two.Due to the incoming tide the narrow section had quite a fast current making it more like a river but with barnacles and sea weed.

Once into the second half of Loch Teacuis bearing in mind that this loch is reputed to be one of the finest and unspoilt sea lochs, personally I was a little disappointed, cottages although few and far between were visible and taking all of the best camping spots to boot. We couldn't turn back for us to return to the "better half" we would have to wait until the tide would allow us too, that being evening time and too late. We searched along the western shore stopping here and there at the better looking spots only to find areas of salt marsh and/or really - really uneven ground. It was getting late and we were tired as we reached the end of the loch. A lonesome sea kayaker was paddling along, I made a bee line for the yellow craft. The paddler slowed down as it was obvious I wanted to talk. "Hi-ya" I called "Do you know any where where we could set up camp over night?" I asked.....hopefully.
"Not sure" came the reply "I guess over there" she pointed to the flat land right at the foot of the loch. She also kindly volunteered to speak to "someone she knew" who was "just over there" she pointed at the far side of the loch. That was it, decision made, we were setting up camp. She came back as we were putting the final touches to the tents. It was ok as long as we stuck to the access agreement, which we do without question.



We hunkered under the tarp and watched the tide come in. Dave and I had dragged our boats right up to the tipi, just in case. The others followed suit before the loch sneaked the boats silently away. With the absence of waves of any kind the tide slowly crept towards us. Clive decided to break for higher ground. We woke Stuart up warning him of his impending doom, he emerged just as the sea lapped against his tent pegs.



Tim was cooking our tea being corned beef hash. As the tide pushed on and covered Stu's hastily vacated pitch. I watched with bated breath, hoping the sea would not evict us and the tipi too.



The tide reached its peak. We were safe. But as the rain and tide slowed to a halt, mozzies made an appearance, as did our midge nets. The rain returned as we chowed down on our meal, the skies darkened with rain clouds accelerating the oncoming dusk.



We caught the rain in cups that dribbled down my tarp for a drink. My tarp that has seen many a campfire and it gave the water a pleasant smokey taste, it also went well with a tot of whisky.
To catch the tide right in the narrows of the loch the following day we had an early start in the morning. So we retreated to the tents for an early night, the mix of rain drops hitting the taught canvas and the bellowing of the local stags we drifted off to sleep lulled by the wilderness lullaby.

Cheers
Tim

[-Tim-]

Day four. Escape from Teacus

We arose from our canvas cocoon as the light began to make an appearance, kettles on coffees brewed and porridge consumed we packed our boats, periodically dragging them back into the ever shrinking loch.



It was about half eight in the morning as we made our way towards the narrows and back again into the "wild" part of the loch. The surrounding hills shrouded in cloud and the damp misty air all added to the experience.



We "broke out" from Teacuis and joined Loch Sunart via a different route hugging the southern shore we pulled into a little bay to discuss options. Finding suitable campsites is no so easy task on this sea loch and it was decided that we must start looking for one as soon as possible. Just as we launched on the crystal clear water a star fish that must have measured at least a foot or so across came into view. Another wildlife box we can tick.



Onwards we paddle, six pairs of eyes constantly scanning maps and shore line for possible campsites. The shoreline was very fjord like, mostly steep drops straight into the water. Where there was flat sections there was salt marsh, a no go in anyone's books. We paddled to a mouth of a small river and jetty, this had a nice flat area, a bit close to a house but worth an investigation. It was perfect, too perfect in fact as it had seen a lawn mower. This was deemed far too close to someone's property.



So we crossed the loch to another place that looking at the map was a "possible campsite" .



We pulled into a pleasant looking bay, again this had a stream flowing down the middle, not a good campsite but a perfect setting for dinner, the weather wasn't too bad either with the sun poking out through the clouds every now and then.
A quick scout of the surrounding area produced a possible site we could use if all else fails. It was set back in the trees, an old fire pit was hidden in weeds. The site was engulfed in ferns, I pulled on one to make a marker. A word of warning, don't pull on a fern stem without gloves, a sliced finger has taught me that.



I whipped out my knife and cut the fern and laid it on a rock. A little first aid later we paddled towards the fern, it wasn't the best place for hauling up boats and kit and the ferns probably harboured nasty bitety things, it was deemed another no go.



Back we travelled across the other side of the loch....again.



A few hundred yards from where we were before dinner. Here we came across a sunken barge full of boulders, making a jetty. In the lee of the jetty was a small piece of land suitably sized for a camp site.



In a canoe you don't always have to travel light...


the camp



We had covered a fair amount of Loch that day so we decided on that the following day was going to be a "nothing day" a day of rest and generally faffing about. Standing dead wood was gathered and processed into suitable sized fire wood.





Tonight was Andy's turn to cook tea, chorizo sausage and pasta followed by what can now be described as a must on a canoe journey, Tim’s made from scratch steam pudding.





We certainly eat well.
With our camp firmly established we sat beneath the tarp and watched the daylight fade away into darkness before one by one we turned in.



Cheers
Tim

[-Tim-]

Day five, the "do nothing day"
Irrelevant of no fixed agenda we still were up early. Some earlier than others. Personally I woke to the sound of a campfire crackling away courtesy of Dave, a lazy coffee and breakfast was had, followed by another coffee.



During our day of not doing anything we explored the immediate area by foot leaving the canoes propped up on edge as a rather expensive wind break. We busied ourselves by collecting dry dead wood and turning it into fire wood. With it, we kept the fire going all day. With all the chores done we sat next to the fire and fashioned spoons and spatulas from the wood pile ready to use for the evening meal.



Tonight's feast was Lamb Biriani with rice, again Dave wafted his magical stirring device (along with his secret herbs) and produced a lovely meal.



During the cooking stage we had a visitor, a fella walking his dog.

This gentleman was as it happens the owner of the house where we looked at camping near the previous day, not only that he owned the estate we were camping on, I can't remember how many thousands of acres but it was a lot. After a friendly chat he warned us to be careful/aware of deer hunters and more importantly where they were pointing their guns, although they have been instructed to shoot away from the loch. With that he bade us farewell and walked his dog home. The Biriani was devoured along with some naan bread that was warmed by the fire. Once again we chatted the evening away finishing off the whisky and fire water.

A few more piccies of that day of nothing to do...

"Bob" the resident seal lookout.


looking right.


looking left


cooking bannock



Final day coming soon...

Cheers
Tim

[-Tim-]

Day six, the unintended final day.

A good night's sleep later we arose to another grey day, much to our delight it wasn't raining, even so the surrounding mountains half hidden by low cloud threatened to do so.
We were soon packed and after quick sweep to make sure we had left the camp in as good if not better state than we had found it. We were off, paddling on the southern shore for a while.



Our destination was Salen on the northern side a small hamlet with a good sized sheltered harbour and hopefully a mobile phone signal. On route we crossed the loch and as we hit the half way point the wind picked up, the waves grew. As the waves grew the wind whipped the tops creating white horses.



There was no choice but to carry on. The techniques went from slow lazy paddling to efficient and powerful touring strokes, gunning the canoes to the safety of the shore. When we were in the lee of a headland the strokes became more sedate, still efficient but slower and more relaxed. The small splattering of rain eventually turned into what could only be described as heavy mist descended upon us, this was the weather we had all day.



A picnic area marked on the map looked to be nice and flat, here would have made a good campsite had it not been for the sign explaining that it was not an area where you can wild camp, I guess it's where numpties have camped there and made an unwelcome mess, ruining it for others - like us.
We pulled into Salen, lo and behold a signal was found, we sat in our boats phoning and texting away reporting in on our good health and where-a-bouts.



East and inland we headed, the wind dropped and loch surface was now calming down. It was about here that we saw a Sea Eagle being harassed by some crows.
The desperate hunt for a campsite was on. There are a few inlets down from Salen but after investigation these also proved to be a no go. Although the clouds were low and grey down at sea level the visibility was quite good as the group spread out a bit more. A lunch spot was found and we lugged our boats onto the barnacle encrusted boulders. Leaning against a rocky out crop and unknown at this time to us, we ate our final lunch of the trip. We paddled closer and closer to the final bottleneck of the trip.



According to the map there was one last chance for a campsite before civilisation. Loch Sunart's landscape denied us one last night. It was beyond any shadow of doubt this was the final day.



A final push to Strontian where we paddled up its river to get the drivers as close to the car as possible.


The remaining three paddlers myself, Dave and Andy towed the three laden boats half a mile to a public jetty where we unloaded all six boats and carried them up to the parking area.





As customary we finished off our trip with a meal, a visit to the local pub for a few pints of ale and a hearty meal whilst sitting on proper chairs....... Pure luxury.
Ta taa for now


Cheers
Tim

[OakAshandThorn]

Now that was quite the adventure . Fantastic scenery, and seems like you all ate like kings .