Voyages of Shimshal: Anniversary Cruise - kayaking from Mull to Arisaig

Anniversary cruise

I had been hoping for a luxurious Arctic cruise to celebrate our 23rd wedding anniversary. Perhaps a trip to Nord Cap on the Hurtigruten or an exotic exploration of Scoresby Sound by icebreaker or, maybe, a week on the Glen Masson meandering through the Hebrides with a gourmet chef on board and lectures in the evening? Unlike 23 years ago, a massive high pressure weather system was bathing Scotland in summer sunshine with no rain or gales anywhere on the horizon. With such perfect conditions all thoughts of luxury cruises were binned in favour of a much more adventurous and energetic alternative - a cruise by kayak fuelled by dehydrated food and accommodation in Sally’s 40 year old, minimalist 1.5 man tent - the infamous Tadpole!

The journey started in Craobh Haven with our kayak strapped to the roof of Marc’s 225HP powerboat. We roared north through the sounds of Cuan and Mull at 28 knots until the tidal chop slowed us down on the approaches to Tobermory. We had been hoping for a kayak drop off in Mallaig but settled instead for a Tobermory start to our anniversary entertainment.

We soon had the boat in the water and loaded up with a week’s worth of food and camping equipment. When we left the sheltered harbour we were back in the tidal rough stuff with the fully loaded kayak submarining through the waves. Having chosen not to don my paddling jacket I was soon drenched by the breaking waves. After a hard paddle to Kilchoan the wind died and we came ashore to camp on a lonely beach where we had a midgy stroll to the Kilchoan Hotel for supper.

The Ardnamurchan Lighthouse has a fearsome reputation for steep seas and swirling tides but we paddled it in millpond calm conditions though a locked deer fence embellished with coils of razor wire prevented us from wandering up from a sandy beach to sample the coffee at the most westerly point of Britain’s mainland. So much for a right to foreshore access.

We chose to camp in a secluded, sandy beach occupied by a couple of sunbathers who had chosen it because of its close proximity to the Island of Muck. They were on a sentimental journey to remember their recently deceased sister and aunt who had sailed the world but had treasured Muck above all the other exotic destinations she had visited. Being a small world full of coincidence it turned out that Sally and I had met their loved one when sailing in Iceland in 2015!

The next morning a brisk, cool north easterly wind was buffeting our tent and kicking up a choppy sea in Sanna Bay. Our planned route was, of course, north easterly around an exposed headland where we knew the tide would be further roughening the sea state. Sure enough when we nosed out of the bay the waves grew and we retreated to await calmer conditions. A couple of hours later we tried again but by then we had found a forecast that warned of rising winds later in the day. With the prospect of a dangerously exposed and rocky lee shore and worsening conditions our second attempt to round the point was half hearted and we were soon scurrying back to the campsite we had used the night before.

Retreat proved wise as the winds topped 26 knots that night and we spent the day hitchhiking to and from the shop and restaurant in Kilchoan. The road across the peninsula was lightly trafficked and our faith in humanity was rewarded when an electric car, that had passed us earlier with a full load on board, returned to pick us up and deliver us to our campsite.

We had a late start the next day as we were keen for the contrary winds and seas to die and, by the time we were underway, conditions were perfect for the long, exposed traverse of Ardnamurhcan’s north shore. Bladders were at their capacity when we rounded a distant headland and turned south towards the delectable sand dunes known as Singing Sands Beach. The campsite there was carpeted with sea pinks, grazed by deer and fringed by forestry. Idyllic - apart from the midges!

The midges were there for breakfast too and we made a hurried dash to the boat to paddle north past Ardtoe and the rocky, western shores of Shona Island. We then ducked into the narrow channel that led to Moidart’s celebrated North Channel anchorage. A very grand and remote place for a yacht to sit out a blow.

We had dinner reserved at Glenuig Hotel and found a campsite on another flowery sword just above the high tide line where we had a short walk from tent to supper.

More fine weather was forecast for our last paddling day to Arisaig but the morning brought fog. Fortunately this year we had not forgotten our compass! The mist rolled away as we headed towards the mouth of Loch Ailort and pointed our bows at a distant skerry. Having seen no other sea kayakers all week we passed close to several fleets as the Arisaig Skerries are a very popular destination for guided parties. We paused at Port nam Murrach where we were photographed by the highland artist and photographer, Hope Blamire. She took our email address and sent us some of her photos.

The wind built during our traverse of the skerries but the passage was gorgeous. Clear water, rushing tides, seals everywhere and beautiful beaches. With tired arms we fetched up on the mud beneath the slip belonging to Arisaig Marina where I stepped out into the gloopy mud that had properties more akin to quicksand. With difficulty, I waddled ashore confident that I would be able to buy some storage space in the boatyard to leave our kayak whilst we retrieved our car - now some 96 miles away. No such luck. The marina manager made it quite clear that kayaks were not welcome and storage was out of the question. She pointed to bold notices that confirmed her words.

Somewhat taken aback I wandered through the boat yard and noticed that the only boat there had a familiar name - Paramour. A lady was busily polishing the already gleaming topsides and within, a few minutes, we realised we knew each other. This chance encounter with our guardian angel was like a prayer answered.

Within an hour we had brought the boat ashore and rammed its 20’ length into Sara and Phil’s 15’ campervan. Our sprawling pile of camping and kayaking kit wedged the kayak in place between bed and cooker. We all then wedged ourselves in ready to be shuttled to their lovely home, a hot bath and a comfortable bed. Our Anniversary was celebrated with Sara and Phil at the Arisaig Hotel and the following morning Phil drove us the 96 miles back to Traighuaine where our adventurous circuit was concluded. A fairytale end to a perfect anniversary cruise and so much more fun than the Hurtigruten!

Alongside the MOWI pontoon at Kilchoan