South West Sea Kayaking

I’ve gradually been working my way around Britain’s coast, paddling solo for a few weeks here and there when I have time free. I think that I’m now about three quarters of the way around (must check …).

Anyway, last summer I paddled 280 miles down Scotland’s east coast. This coast was all completely new to me, and clearly deserves to see far more sea kayakers than it currently does. I experienced some incredible coastal scenery and birdlife - indeed, the best yet, in Caithness – but also some persistently awful weather. For this reason it was a somewhat frustrating trip, with lots of stopping and starting, and lots of short days.

There is no such thing as a bad paddling trip however, as I hope that my photos make clear … enjoy.

Last summer, Heather and I spent a few weeks exploring the wild and wonderful Orkney Isles by sea kayak. Our trip did not cover much distance due to persistent poor weather, but this actually allowed us to explore the area in depth.

This vast area of islands is located off the northern tip of Scotland and is simply unique. The isles are fully exposed to swells from the Atlantic and Arctic oceans, and some of the strongest tidal flows in the world pass between them! The islands are part of Britain but pride themselves on their Nordic heritage. Wildlife is simply amazing, with huge bird and seal colonies common. The archaeological interest of the isles is simply staggering, with sites dating back 5000 years literally littering the place.

Our photos can be found here and here. Enjoy.

Below are notes that I penned about  our trip for UKRGB …

It was certainly the most challenging sea trip we’ve done together, for various reasons.

We originally had planned to try the whole John O’Groats > Orkney > Shetland trip, but that had pretty much fallen by the wayside before we even met up to begin, as;
- the weather patterns indicated that the big crossings were not likely to be on for both of us.
- we had agreed that we wanted to prioritise exploring/visiting rather than pushing ahead whatever. The numerous bad weather days helped this aim, somewhat!

In the event, what we completed was a roundabout trip of only just c120 miles linking John O’Groats with the very northern tip of Orkney, North Ronaldsay. The route and pace was completely dictated by weather and tides, we hadn’t planned this! From North Ronaldsay we couldn’t face an extended return journey back into the face of all the continuing weather, so we took a series of ferries back south.

Paddling

The paddling was not the picture postcard cruising experience, indeed it was usually relatively challenging. It tended to fall into one of two categories …

1. Biggish swells.
We paddled along much of Orkney’s exposed west and north coasts, which feature some incredible cliffs, caves and stacks. However we viewed it all from a distance of 500m to a mile offshore, as this paddling was always done in short hops from bay to bay, taking advantage of short gaps between periods of strong wind – hence we were always paddling through the tail end of some storm or other. Between Stromness and Bay of Skaill, the waves were exploding halfway up the cliffs. They are 200-300 foot high! However, we didn’t have to make any dodgy surf landings as we picked our spots carefully.

2. Crazily strong tides.
This we should have realised (it’s all there in the pilot and guidebook) but we still struggled on occasion. Mixed with unsettled weather, this created some pretty rough water. We were well aware of the strength of the Pentland Firth beforehand and (given that we were at Springs) planned our crossing carefully. It was only later in the trip that we appreciated just how lucky we had been to have a rare perfect day for this – even in these conditions we had to surf across lively tide races continuously for 3.5 hours – I dread to imagine what even a hint of swell or wind would have meant. What we didn’t properly grasp, was that the tides get extremely strong again, through Orkney’s north isles. In particular, the Westray Firth/Stronsay Firth gap which bisects the isles is every bit as strong and rough as the Pentland Firth – we blundered into this (at Springs) late one evening and hence had a minor epic which resulted on us stranded on a small midstream island with limited fresh water. The following day we planned properly and tried to cross again at time and conditions of our choosing, but still failed and had to retreat! Thankfully I was paddling with a strong WW paddler, or you would certainly have read about us on the news.

The Pesda guidebook

This guidebook is pretty good for Orkney, describing the coast and surrounding waters very clearly and accurately. It also gives lots of info that gives a ‘taste’ of what the isles are like ashore, which is of course the real reason that you are there. The limitations of the book are;
- A few small areas aren’t covered
- It’s written from a purely circumnavigation perspective, rather than an island hopping perspective – what I mean is, the tidal info is great for paddling around the isles, but sometimes unclear/incomplete for paddling between. This is one occasion where I’d recommend also shelling out £50 for the Admiralty Pilot (which we had).
- On a related note, there isn’t much (any?) advice on using the various ferries (see below).
- It doesn’t tell you where the services are on each island! This may sound like a silly point, but finding food can be a real issue. Each island usually turns out to have a single shop, invariably unmapped and many miles away from anything else (like the quay), opening at limited and obscure times.
- To supplement the guidebook, I recommend picking up ‘The Islands of Orkney’ a fantastic free publication detailed guide to every outlying island. It’s also online here …
http://www.visitorkney.com/placestovisit/index.asp

Ferries and Flights

Unlike with CalMac and the west coast, kayaks were (surprisingly) a relative novelty to the ferry operatives and employees we dealt with. All were helpful and friendly. No company charged us for carrying boats, although each time we called ahead to check they had space. The interisland ferries (run by Orkney Ferries) often have to crane luggage aboard (including cars and cattle) due to lack of RoRo facilities on all isles, although our boats were wiggled aboard via a side hatch. Northlink is the ‘big’ ferry company running to Thurso, Aberdeen and Shetland. We trollied boats down their ramp into the car deck.

Another transport option is the insanely cheap subsidised flights. Kirkwall (‘capital’ of Orkney) to North Ronaldsay (most northerly isle, 35 miles away) = c£14 return. Cheaper than the ferry and more regular at three flights daily rather than two ferries weekly! It’s even half price for kids, the son of the Bird Observatory warden was flying to school in Kirkwall every day. They don’t carry sea kayaks, though …

Glencoe.

We’ve just returned from a week north of the border. Firstly we visited the Scottish Canoe Assocation’s annual Show, ‘Paddle ‘09′. I met up with various folk and delivered a talk on recent overseas whitewater expeditions.

Having done this, it was time for the real business of the week; catching up with friends and heading off to paddle. Plentiful rainfall meant that we were able to enjoy plenty of the fantastic rivers around Fort William, based from a rather nice rented house at Roybridge. All good.

The SCA Show

Simon Willis, who has released a coaching video.

 Franco Ferrero, benign dictator of Pesda Press.

The River Coe gorge.

 The River Orchy. 

Glencoe.

South Devon, photo by Heather Rainsley.

I used to consider Facebook to be nothing short of Satan’s work; a vast and pointless timewaste designed purely to enable the emotionally insecure to seek rapid shallow self-affirmation from pseudo-’friends’.

My opinion hasn’t changed in the least over time, except that I’ve now accepted that,

a] Wasting time is as worthwhile a pastime as any I have.
b] I am emotionally insecure and in need of rapid shallow self-affirmation.

Hence, I’m now quite into the Facebook thing. It does actually perform one undeniably positive role; it’s great for storing, categorising and sharing photos. Last night I went through all of the photos that were submitted for South West Sea Kayaking and posted them on Facebook – all taken between 2006 and 2008. Some you will recognise from the book, but many more didn’t make the grade. Even so, it was pleasant to sift through them and be reminded of the awesome paddling experiences that produced them.

I hope that they are of general interest …

Chapter 1 – Isle of Wight

Chapter 2 – Dorset

Chapter 3 – East and South Devon

Chapter 4 – South Cornwall

Chapter 5 – The Isles of Scilly

Chapter 6 – North Cornwall

Chapter 7 – North Devon, Somerset, Avon and Gloucestershire

Enjoy. I’m shortly off to Scotland for the SCA Paddle 09 Show, where (Heaven help me, and them) I’ll be doing a talk on club whitewater paddling expeditions. All good.

“Try everything once except folk dancing and incest.” – Sir Thomas Beecham

I’ve paddled the coast between Durdle Door and Lulworth Cove dozens of times, indeed I love the area so much that I used a photo of Durdle Door as the cover shot of my book. Yesterday, I was privileged to experience the same coast from a very different perspective as I joined a ‘Social Swim’ organised through the Outdoor Swimming Society. This group was set up by well-known wild swimmer Kate Rew (who also swam).

As I hadn’t swum further than a few hundred yards on the sea in my life, I was simply terrified; it’s 1.5 miles from Durdle to Lulworth. About 40 of us walked to the stunning Durdle Door arch and dipped into amazingly warm blue water; perfect conditions! Seeing this very familiar coast from water level (literally) was quite a revelation, I felt like I was rediscovering it all over again. However the swim took a lot longer than expected, and not just because I can only do a rather lame breast stroke; the tide was flowing against us at about 1 mph; sometimes we simply weren’t making headway! My local knowledge came in handy once we’d crossed the open water of St Oswald’s Bay; we hugged the rocks and cliffs closely to avoid the worst of the tidal flow as we clawed our way upstream to Lulworth Cove.

I needn’t have worried about the swim beforehand, it was actually a remarkably enjoyable experience and I had a few good friends on the water to look out for me. Splendid fun, maybe try leaving the kayak at home next time and give wild swimming a try yourself …

Yesterday’s South West Kayak Show in Exeter was a very pleasant day out; I met up with a few friends and Franco (editor/boss at Pesda Press) to discuss book stuff. I also subjected a captive audience to a talk about recent whitewater trips; many thanks to Robin Lee for helping organise the talk. More photos of the event here.

I also caught up with Tim Lambert, UK Sales Manager of Pyranha/PH Kayaks/Venture Kayaks (some or all of these, anyway), who kindly supported the South West Sea Kayak Meet last year with a fleet of kayaks. PH Kayaks apparently enjoyed the event and are keen to support it again next year, so I’ll get organising soon; watch this space! Whilst that is on my mind, I received the letter below, last week; it relates to the donation made by those at the ‘Meet’ for the Devon Air Ambulance. I have a similar letter somewhere for the RNLI, will dig it out sometime.

Obviously, what the world needs most is more of me; talking, talking, talking, especially about myself. With this in mind, I’ll be doing a talk at the South West Canoe Show in Exeter this coming Saturday. If you’re not familiar with this annual event, it takes place at and around AS Watersports and is a great start to the winter whitewater paddling season, although the numerous stands and talks cater for all kinds of paddling. More info at the event website.

My talk is called ‘Expeditions for Mere Mortals’. It won’t be saltwater based, but instead will focus on the intermediate level whitewater paddling trips I’ve organised in the past few years with my chums; to Morocco, India and California. I kick off at 3.30 pm in the Exeter Canoe Club clubhouse, close to the AS Watersports shop. See the link above for more details.

If the notion of Yours Truly rambling on about WW paddling  does not appeal much, you may wish to know that the event line-up also includes a couple of sea paddling talks, including one by Jeff Allen.

I hope you can make it! If you can’t attend my talk and are (improbably) absolutely devastated, note that I should be doing something similar at the Scottish Canoe Exhibition, later in October.

A few taster photos below …

Meeting the locals beside the river in Morocco.

India’s holy Alaknanda River.

My wife samples the wild and scenic Salmon River, California.

Last week I found myself sitting around on North Ronaldsay, the remotest island in the Orkney isles, located off the far northern tip of Scotland. With a few days to kill before the ferry arrived to take my wife, myself and our kayaks back south, there was absolutely nothing whatsoever  to do. Apart from, harassing the local population of Common Seals with a camera lens…

More pics and notes about our Orkney trip here.

The above snap was taken as I left Lunan Bay last week. The folk who took the pic had kindly fed, housed and entertained me on the previous night. Just before arriving at that spot, I’d met a large pod of dolphins. Must go back to Lunan Bay sometime …

I ran out of time before completing the east coast of Scotland – up to the last couple of days, the weather simply wasn’t on my side. I finished at North Berwick, which is about 30 miles short of the border. I’m now paddling in the Orkney Isles with my wife, which isn’t a bad place to be.

A rough summary of my journey below …

Day 1 – dropped off near John O’Groats by PC Cailean Macleod, my thanks to him – in the evening, paddled around Duncansby Head and south to Keiss harbour, where headwinds forced a stop. Quite impressed by ‘Wife Geo’ along this stretch, a vast interconnected series of tunnels and geos.

Day 2 – Paddled to Wick and dozed there, before heading south again. Weather and seas deteriorated fast and I was glad to make it to an early stop at Sarclet Haven, an interesting abandoned fish processing plant???

Day 3 – A wet and rocky launch through the surf saw me paddling along the best coastal cliffs I’ve seen in the UK so far; endless arches, geos, tunnels and almost continuous bird colonies. The previous nights’ storm meant that numerous hefty waterfalls were plunging into the sea, quite a sight. I didn’t want to get in close on this day, though! I finished at Berriedale, an abandoned fishing hamlet; sticking the tent up infront of a row of empty cottages was a weird experience.

Day 4 – The scenery remained pleasant but ‘wore off’ slightly as I headed south to Brora. At Brora I headed out across the Dornoch Firth to the isolated headland of Tarbat Ness. This should have been straightforward, but I got rained on beyond belief and the tides really made me fight to gain the last couple of miles to the lighthouse, just what I needed at the end of a long day.

Day 5 – I loaded up for the c15 mile open crossing of the Moray Firth; however once I was ready to go, the offshore wind had cranked right up and I was faced with one of those gut-wrenching could/should dilemmas that are a persistent feature of solo trips (I probably could survive a 15 mile ubersurf, but common sense said that I shouldn’t try). I decided to be sensible and sat the day out. The good news was that Tarbat Ness is a great place; just a lighthouse at the edge of the land, and nothing else. I met an old fisherman who regaled me for hours with tales of hundreds of boats in Wick harbour etc.

Day 6 – Oh joy, a 4am wakeup to cross the Firth before the winds built up again. The crossing went well, and I landed at Hopeman where I dozed all day (I saw a group of sea paddlers head out east, was that you?). In the evening I put my head down and clocked a few miles east to the mouth of the River Spey. The last two hours were a nightmare, as a crazy headwind sprang up and I refused to cut the trip short. Painful. The Spey was chucking out lots of water (my first freshwater surf/ferryglide in a sea kayak!) and there was a dolphin sharing the spot with me.

Day 7 – Stiff headwind all day up to F7, I didn’t launch. Nice spot though. Did some boat repairs and other dull jobs.

Day 8 – I headed a few miles to Buckie – this town has nothing to commend it, but I was able to pick up a few bits I needed. Then (after dozing on the beach, out in the rain) I did a long spurt east to the village of Gardenstown, a rather pretty fishing community clinging to a steep cliff. The coastal scenery kept improving all the way, and I arrived in time for a perfect sunset.

Day 9 – More bloody wind, but I forced a tiring passage about 12 miles to near Fraserburgh. I was surprised to find that this coast has some really spectacular cliffs (quite unique formations, impossible to describe without seeing) and bird colonies, including the biggest gannet colony I’ve seen apart from Bass Rock. Much of this was wasted on me, as I was clinging onto my paddles in scary headwinds and downdraughts at the base of the cliffs. As a rule of thumb, I know it’s too windy when my paddle blades are singing!

Day 10 – Fraserburgh to Rattray Head. The wind dropped in the evening, so I banged out a few miles around the ‘corner’ of NE Scotland. I had hoped to carry on into the night for a few hours past Rattray lighthouse, but the tide was strongly against me when I arrived (it shouldn’t have been, but it was) so I indulged in my least favourite pastime, camping in sand dunes.

Day 11 – My tent was being held up by my kayak and a discarded car seat – although the wind was pretty strong, I had to get away from the dunes! I had an uncomfortable ‘lively’ surf down to and past Peterhead, where I called it a day at a bay that was quite attractive, despite being located between a power station and HM Prison.

Day 12 – Peterhead to Collieston, frustratingly my fifth ’short’ day in a row. Some attractive granite cliffs, not unlike Land’s End/ Lundy! The weather closed in and I stopped at a tiny bay on a rather attractive NNR south of Collieston.

Day 13 – Mad weather – I woke up to a beach covered with foam spume, and the waves were breaking over Collieston harbour wall. I went to the event of the year instead, the village gala (held despite screaming rain and wind).

Day 14 – Wind had dropped enough to launch by the afternoon. A long slog against the tide along dull dunes past Aberdeen, then the scenery picked up a fair bit. Landed 10 pm at Newtownhill, where I was unable to call the CG as someone had vandalised (and then vomited over) the public phone.

Day 15 – A rare calm morning, paddled a few hours south to Inverbervie. A strong headwind appeared and prevented me from continuing.

Day 16 – Sitting around Bervie, watching surfers.

Day 17 – Bervie to Johnshaven. Launched into nasty headwinds and chop, managed a spectacular 2km before dashing into the tiny harbour of Gourdon. In the evening, I made it another 8km before bailing into the similarly tiny harbour entrance of Johnshaven.

Day 18 – Johnshaven to Ethiehaven. This started well, with a crossing of Montrose Bay. However headwinds popped up quickly (again) and I pretty well crawled to the lighthouse at Scurdie Ness, ready to give up and sell all my gear. The good news is that the chap who lived there gave me tea and lunch. In the evening I set out again, a fairly lousy thrash across Lunan Bay. However … in mid-bay, I found myself in the midst of several dozen dolphins, seemingly spread over a wide area all doing their own thing. I later learned that they’re pretty much a permanent fixture thereabouts. I also landed at Ethiehaven, a tiny village in which all the cottages surprisingly turned out to be owned by a large extended group of friends/family, most of whom are paddlers. They gave me a bed for the night, and fed me lots of fresh food. Thanks all!

Day 19 – Ethiehaven to Fife Ness. Before departing I had to eat the largest bowl of porridge I’ve ever seen. Anyway, at last a good day of weather. I made a 25 mile crossing to Fife Ness (so have no idea what Arbroath, the Tay or St Andrews look like) and then carried on to Crail, a small harbour nearby.

Day 20 – Fife Ness to North Berwick. My wife was delayed in coming to meet me, so early in the morning I crossed the Firth of Forth to North Berwick, which seems to me to be a fairly logical place to wind up the trip – about 100 miles short of where I thought I’d wind it up, but I guess that the rest of Britain’s east coast isn’t going away anywhere soon …

Still plodding along the east of Scotland. Progress to date here.

Very self-indulgently, for this post I’ve borrowed a couple of photos of myself paddling locally, taken recently by friends. I probably should have asked them first, cheeky of me. The picture above is by Eurion Brown and shows a tunnel in Worbarrow Bay, whilst the photo below is by Maria Dolton and was taken below the cliffs approaching Lulworth Cove.

The school year is nearly over! I just have to take 70 Sixth Formers to Plymouth Uni this week, and assuming I survive that experience, I’m flying up to Edinburgh next Sunday. From there, it’s a short (eight hour) train journey up to Thurso. My kayak is already up there, having been shipped to local paddler Cailean. 

I then have just over two weeks to head back south towards the English border; ideally I will complete the east coast of Scotland (about 300 miles), but this is of course in the hands of both the weather and the state of my battered and increasingly unreliable body.* Incidentally, for the benefit of foreign types; the heading of this blog post refers to the Shipping Forecast areas that I will hopefully pass through en route.

If I can still bear sea kayaking by then, I’ll be meeting up with my wife and heading north again; this time to paddle together for 3-4 weeks among the Orkney and Shetland Islands. All good.

Whenever I can, I will be posting updates as to my progress here.

See you in September …

*A spectacular mountain bike wipeout the other day didn’t do it any favours.

I’m spending all of my weekends paddling near home recently; partly because I need to save money and get (slightly less un-)fit for my summer holiday paddling … but also because I really do rather like it around here.

This weekend saw various friends visiting to paddle, walk, swim, run and cycle around the Isle of Purbeck. I paddled the splendid Kimmeridge to Swanage trip, but also managed a bit of walking and a couple of quick dips in the briny. My new toy – a birthday present from Heather – is a shiny black triathlon-style wetsuit. Although you’re unlikely to see me entering into that sort of fitness nonsense any time soon, I’ve really been enjoying our recent series of sunset swims around our coast.

Two weeks left before I fly north to spend several weeks (hopefully) getting down the east coast of Scotland, picking up where I left last year. If I survive that, I’ll then be meeting up with Heather to head north into the Orkney and Shetland islands for several more weeks. My kayak is already up at Thurso, having been shipped up to Cailean a few weeks’ back.

All good, just need to survive these last two weeks at work without going insane.

PS Enjoy a little bit of diversion, from Deb Pinniger. It’s about the beach at Falmouth, Cornwall. Highly recommended.

Our weekend consisted of a two day paddle in the vicinity of the Isles of Portland and Purbeck. Even though this is our usual stomping ground, you can always create a new adventure, with a bit of imagination …

On Saturday a couple of us paddled near Old Harry, but in the evening seven of us converged at Chesil Cove for a 14 mile evening/night paddle around Portland Bill. It just happened to be a peasoup fog and the Coastguard didn’t sound wildly enthusiastic about our plans when I called them on the VHF. Anyway, we paddled south  in odd conditions – enveloped by fog but occasionally able to spot the cliffs above us, glowing in the evening rays.

In due course we reached the southernmost tip of Dorset, Portland Bill. Portland Bill is characterised by some really powerful tidal flows (up to 10 knots!) but as planned, we arrived at slack(ish) water. After being deafened by the foghorn at the lighthouse, we paddled north to Portland Harbour, as it grew progressively darker. The final part of the trip was a 5 mile open crossing of Weymouth Bay (on a rough bearing) to Ringstead Bay. Visibility was almost zero – we were reduced to figuring out where people were and who was who by the dayglo colour of their glowsticks. No stars or lights to guide us! Following a glowing stick of pink through the dark and the fog was an odd experience. We also enjoyed the indescribable phenomena of phosphorescence, sparkling in the water around our paddles and bows.

Although it occasionally felt like we were paddling aimlessly all over the place, just before midnight we somehow hit land within 20 metres of our intended camping spot – not bad, huh? Tents went up and we enjoyed wine and beer well past our bedtimes.

On Sunday morning we weren’t as quick off the mark as we should have been, so we scaled our paddling plans back to a 12 mile paddle along to Kimmeridge and then back to Lulworth Cove, rather than slogging all the way to Swanage. All good, and the fog had moved on.

Are there any cliffs anywhere else, remotely like those at the Gadcliff?

No photos of the fog, naturally…

(thanks to Graham Bland for the GPS track)

I’m somewhere else.

Sometimes, all you want from life is just to be somewhere else. Right now, the Isles of Scilly would suit me fine.