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Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

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Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

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  • After the unforgettable rigours of my crossing from Ardnamurchan to Muck, the relatively short passage to the next island of the Small Isles, Eigg, was relatively comfortable. It is the second largest of the four islands with an area of 31 km2 (12 sq mi), 9 km (5.6 mi) long from north to south, and 5 km (3.1 mi), with a population of about 50. The main settlement on Eigg is Cleasdale, a fertile coastal plain in the north west. It is known for its quartz beach, called the “singing sands” because of the squeaking noise it makes if walked on when dry. The centre of the island is a moorland plateau, rising to 393 metres (1,289 ft) at An Sgurr, a dramatic stump of pitchstone, sheer on three sides.<br />
I landed on the south of the island on a beach near the ferry jetty at Galmisdale where there is a sheltered anchorage for boats, and a new building near the jetty, housing the post office, shop, craft shop, café, restaurant and bar, and of great benefit to me, toilet and shower facilities that are open 24 hrs a day. This modern and welcoming building near the ferry jetty gives a good indication of how important tourism is to the local economy of Eigg, especially during the summer months, and it was a welcome haven for me whenever I was in need of some extra treats during the time that I was camping on the island. At first I camped behind the beach in Galmisdale Bay, and then I paddled around the rugged and steep east coast to find a place to camp with more solitude.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland42.jpg
  • I paddled around Eilean Thuilm at the northern tip of the island and found this beautiful place to camp with a clear view of the Isle of Rum. I spent a lot of time beachcombing or sitting on the grassy slope in the foreground gazing out across the beautiful sea view towards the Isle of Rum. To get to Cleadale and then Galmisdale there was a scenic footpath to get to the long sandy beach in the Bay of Laig, and then on to the single road leading to Galmisdale. It was a fascinating walk through a mixture of rugged coastal terrain, along a nice beach and then arable land with some dilapidated old farm buildings. I particularly remember an old atmospheric abandoned house with a lot of the original contents scattered around. The only thing that wasn’t good to see was the vast amounts of plastic flotsam and jetsom that had accumulated at the top of the beach. The Bay of Laig seems to have become the unfortunate receptacle and receiving end for so much garbage borne by the Atlantic Ocean from distant places, and more likely jettisoned by ships. There were many layers of it fringing the top of the long beach, more than I’ve seen anywhere else in the UK. It’s something that I had become very familiar with in Southeast Alaska, where a beautiful pristine coastal wilderness is exposed to an open ocean, and whatever unwanted trash it is carrying.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland43.jpg
  • After the unforgettable rigours of my crossing from Ardnamurchan to Muck, the relatively short passage to the next island of the Small Isles, Eigg, was relatively comfortable. It is the second largest of the four islands with an area of 31 km2 (12 sq mi), 9 km (5.6 mi) long from north to south, and 5 km (3.1 mi), with a population of about 50. The main settlement on Eigg is Cleasdale, a fertile coastal plain in the north west. It is known for its quartz beach, called the “singing sands” because of the squeaking noise it makes if walked on when dry. The centre of the island is a moorland plateau, rising to 393 metres (1,289 ft) at An Sgurr, a dramatic stump of pitchstone, sheer on three sides.<br />
I landed on the south of the island on a beach near the ferry jetty at Galmisdale where there is a sheltered anchorage for boats, and a new building near the jetty, housing the post office, shop, craft shop, café, restaurant and bar, and of great benefit to me, toilet and shower facilities that are open 24 hrs a day. This modern and welcoming building near the ferry jetty gives a good indication of how important tourism is to the local economy of Eigg, especially during the summer months, and it was a welcome haven for me whenever I was in need of some extra treats during the time that I was camping on the island. At first I camped behind the beach in Galmisdale Bay, and then I paddled around the rugged and steep east coast to find a place to camp with more solitude.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland41.jpg
  • I had already been marvelling from afar at the dramatic geological feature of An Sgurr on Eigg from the beginning of my Inner Hebrides journey. It’s sticks up so abruptly like an axehead that has sliced through the island. It was formed 58.72 ± 0.07 million years ago; the result of one of the last eruptions of a volcano, the core of which now forms the Isle of Rhum. Thick viscous pitchstone lava of rhyodacitic composition flowed out, filling a river valley. The lava cooled and formed column-like structures, similar to those at Giant's Causeway.<br />
The surrounding basalt was softer than the pitchstone, and hence the valley became inverted, with the pitchstone withstanding the erosion far better than the surrounding rock. An Sgùrr is thus an inselberg. The mountain appears most strikingly in the view of the eastern end, known as the Nose of Sgùrr.<br />
I couldn’t wait to hike up to the top to take in the breathtaking views that I anticipated. This is a view of a farm along the path, with An Sgurr rising abruptly in the distance like the dorsal fin of a gigantic whale. It was a wonderful hike and the views along the way and from the top certainly didn’t disappoint! Looking down the sheer precipitous wall overlooking the sea was particularly dizzying. It would have been the perfect geological feature for constructing the ultimate unassailable castle on top of had anyone been that ambitious.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland46.jpg
  • Apart from ascending An Sgurr, the other essential thing that I had to do during my first time on the Isle of Eigg was to visit the infamous Massacre Cave. During the sixteenth century there was a lengthy feud between the Macleod and MacDonald clans. According to traditional accounts, in 1577 a party of MacLeods staying on the island became too amorous and caused trouble with the local girls. They were subsequently rounded up, bound and cast adrift in The Minch, but were rescued by some clansmen. A party of MacLeods subsequently landed on Eigg with revenge in mind. Their approach had been spotted by the islanders who had hidden in a secret cave called the Cave of Frances (Gaelic: Uamh Fhraing). The entrance to this cave was tiny and covered by moss, undergrowth and a small waterfall. After a thorough but fruitless search lasting for three to five days, the MacLeods set sail again but a MacDonald carelessly climbed onto a promontory to watch their departure and was spotted. The MacLeods returned and were able to follow his footprints back to the cave. They redirected the stream and lit a fire at the entrance so that the cave was filled with smoke thereby asphyxiating everyone inside. Three hundred and ninety five people died in the cave, the whole population of the island bar one old lady who had not sought refuge there. Human remains in the cave were reported to have been found, but by 1854 they had been removed and buried elsewhere.<br />
Massacre Cave sits in the back of a fault-like crevice under a steep rock face near where this photo was taken just around the point south of Galmisdale. It was one of the most eerie places that I have ever visited, and as I crawled along the very low claustrophobic passage into the cave my imagination was vividly reconstructing the horrific event from many centuries ago. I had to crawl for about 7 metres before it opened out into a larger chamber where it was impossible not to feel their presence, and to hear their choking and screams
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland49.jpg
  • This is a view towards the Isle of Rum, from the northern side of An Sgurr across the central moorland plateau, with a series of lochs along the way. The Bay of Laig and the northernmost point of the island where I was camping can be seen to the right of Rum. This was a fantastic hike with breathtaking views all the way. For much of my younger days I had Dartmoor to enjoy as my regular local camping and hiking destination so I was well used to hiking across moorland terrain with ocean views to the north and south of Devon, but not as close as this on the islands of the Inner Hebrides. It was truly magical to be hiking across this ancient rugged terrain, with the sea and other islands always enhancing the view, and adding greatly to the sense of isolation and perspective. I seem to remember that my feet were quite sore by the time that I got back to my camp at the northern tip of the island in the fading light. It was one of my classic “race against the fading light” hikes, especially with a precarious coastal footpath to negotiate at the end.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland48.jpg
  • This is the pebbly beach and stack at the northern tip of the island near where I was camping. The steep escarpment that fringed the eastern half of the island can be seen in the background. I can imagine that the Inner Hebrides is a geologist’s paradise. I can only profess to having a keen layman’s interest in geology; physical geography was one of my favourite subjects at school, and I always find myself trying to remember and identify geomorphological features on my travels.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland44.jpg
  • Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland47.jpg
  • From Lunga I had to return to Mull and get more provisions in Tobermory before continuing on to the Small Isles – Muck, Eigg, Rum and Canna via Ardnemurchan, the westernmost point on mainland UK. This is a view back towards the mainland and Mull from Fladda, one of the other islands in the Treshnish Isles on the way back to Mull. The other islands and skerries at the south end of the archipelago are Cairn Na Burgh Mor and Cairn na Burgh Beag. I paddled above a lot of seaweed to the south of Lunga and the current was very strong. It was evidently another good area for basking sharks to feed because I encountered two more, but wasn’t able to remain with them for very long. The swells were getting bigger and by the time I reached Treshnish Point on Mull and entered the bay on the other side I knew that it was going to be really hard work, and that I had to really stay focussed to stay in control because the combination of the strong south-westerly wind, strong currents and confused waves was swinging me every which way. The conditions were very similar and just as challenging as when I had to fight to get to Arinagour on Coll. I was very relieved to reach the other side and round Callach Point to find calmer sea conditions. From there it was a much easier paddle to gat back to my campsite in Ardmore Bay at the northern point of Mull.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland25.jpg
  • From Eigg it was a relatively short paddle to the largest island in the Small Isles, the Isle of Rum. I left quite late as usual, and had to negotiate strong currents and big swells between the islands in the Sound of Rum in diminishing light. I paddled northwest until I reached Loch Scresort on the eastern side of Rum and made my camp along the coast before the main community of Kinloch at the head of the Loch. Rum has an area of 40.4 sq miles and a highest point, Askival, of 812 metres (2,664 ft). This photo was taken from Askival in the highlands in the southern half of the island, looking northwards towards Kinloch to the east, and the sheltered anchorage of Kilmory Bay at the northern end of the island, where there is a good beach and the remains of a village. For much of the 20th century the island became Rhum, a spelling invented by the former owner who did not relish the idea of having the title “Laird of Rum”. Rum has been inhabited since the 8th millennium BC providing some of the earliest known evidence of human occupation in Scotland. The population grew to over 400 by the late 18th century but was cleared of its indigenous population between 1826 and 1828. The island then became a sporting estate and the exotic Kinloch Castle was constructed by the Bulloughs in 1900. Rum was purchased by the Nature Conservancy Council in 1957, and is now an <br />
important study site for ecology research, especially of red deer at Kilmory, and is the site of a successful reintroduction programme for the white-tailed sea eagle. Its economy is entirely dependent on Scottish Natural Heritage, a public body that now manages the island. The 30 or so residents of Rum are all employees of Scottish National Heritage and their families, along with a few researchers and a school teacher, all who live in Kinloch, which has no church or pub, but does have a village hall, small primary school, and a shop and post office, which is manned by volunteers and only opens on an irregular basis
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland50.jpg
  • Every day I walked across the rocks around the peninsula watching the angry confrontation between rocks and stormy sea. I had experienced similar frustrating situations before in Alaska, when I was trapped onshore by bad sea conditions, often when I was running out of food. This was yet another test of my patience and common sense. I could clearly see the Isles of Lunga and Eigg on the seemingly not too distant horizon. The sky was mostly clear, benign and warm in temperament in contrast to the cold fury in the sea below. I kept on assessing the wind and sea conditions, getting ever hopeful whenever there seemed to be a hint of respite, but most of the time I was just trying to persuade myself that the windy weather was relenting. I was in a relatively sheltered bay, and I say relatively because the sea was still very agitated, and I only had the distant whitecaps to give me any idea of what the sea conditions might be like farther out. Anyway, I finally threw caution to the wind, so to speak, and when there seemed to be a slight respite I decided to go for it, but my heart was very much in my mouth.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland32.jpg