Archive for the ‘Open crossings’ Category

Escape from Britain!   Leave a comment

This article was originally published in Canoe Kayak UK magazine…

Escape from Britain!

Eight great offshore adventures

Everyone who has tried sea kayaking knows that it takes you to special places. Locations which unlucky uninitiated folk (‘Muggles’) can’t hope to reach or perhaps won’t even be aware of. As master of your own little craft, a brave new world of exploration awaits you if you simply poke the bow of your kayak away from the beach and paddle off. Our British coast is a particularly wonderful place to explore by paddle power, with several lifetimes’ worth of private and secret spots awaiting discovery. Perhaps the most alluring are those which lie just offshore, within plain view but beyond touch. British sea kayakers are simply blessed in this respect; a galaxy of reefs, rocks and islands sit offshore, awaiting your visit. Dipping briefly into pretension and cheap psychology (and why not?)…approaching such inaccessible places satisfies a primal urge to escape humdrum everyday life and head out to explore what’s over the horizon or around the corner, perhaps the same urge which drove humans to the Poles and the Moon. Yet, these places are right there on hand, waiting for you at this very moment; remember that nowhere in Britain is more than 90 minutes’ drive from the seashore, and escaping from Britain is a simple matter of making a few paddles strokes from that shore!

This article suggests some great offshore paddling trips, all accessed from the mainland coast of Britain. Each is reachable by kayak in a daytrip, although naturally some are more serious undertakings than others. Popular areas such as Anglesey and Scotland’s Hebridean Islands have been ignored as they are already well publicised. These offshore paddles are simply a selection of the author’s personal favourites. There isn’t quite enough information in this article to plan and complete each paddle, and this is entirely deliberate. Hopefully there is just enough information here to encourage you to head to a map, or the internet, and start formulating your own ‘escape plan’. There are of course many more similarly amazing offshore places to be discovered…don’t let this article deter you from seeking them out, but do share whatever you find with us!

Before venturing forth to escape Britain and leave our shores behind, you should ensure that you are appropriately experienced and equipped for offshore padding, and that you have taken proper consideration of the weather and tidal conditions on the day. But you already knew that, right? If you want to learn more about such things, the ‘sea kayaking’ chapter of the ‘BCU Handbook’ published by Pesda Press is as good a starting point as any. Another important consideration is the impact that your offshore escape will have on the local flora and fauna; seek up to date advice about nesting seasons, landing restrictions and suchlike.

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Star Ratings

* Accessible –locations reachable by a short paddle offshore, with relatively sheltered waters to cross. However, appropriate equipment should still be carried, and weather and tide will always need careful consideration. Plenty of opportunities to land.

** Challenging – Destinations achievable by intermediate sea kayakers who have planned and prepared carefully to handle exposed waters and tidal conditions. Limited opportunities to land and stretch legs.

*** Aspirational – Offshore adventures requiring good fitness due to the mileage involved, and precise planning to take account of tides, shipping and weather conditions. For experienced and confident sea kayakers only. Landing is difficult or impossible.

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Escape to…chalk sea stacks

Old Harry Rocks *

Location: Studland Bay, Dorset

Launch point: Knoll Beach, Studland Bay (SZ O34836)

Distance offshore/ from launch point: 100m/ 3km

Old Harry Rocks are easily reached from any of the car parks in sandy Studland Bay. Escape from the nudists and the anchored yachts and follow the dazzling white cliffs south around the bay until you reach this spectacular chain of chalk stacks. The walkers high above the nearby cliffs will peer down in envy at your ability to explore this inaccessible place. Caves and tunnels honeycomb the stacks, take time to check them all out. It is always possible to land, explore on foot and perhaps enjoy a picnic. Note that there is a tide race at the seaward end of the stacks; stay well clear unless you are confident in moving water. One more (occasional hazard) is the wake of Seacat ferries departing Poole; shortly after one has chugged past, a series of steep waves will surge into the stacks and this is not a good time to be inside the tunnels! Incidentally, the name ‘Old Harry’ is a euphemism for the Devil; Harry had a ‘wife’ close by, but this stack collapsed into the sea in 1896. Having come this far, you’ll probably be tempted to explore the equally impressive stacks located nearby beneath the cliffs stretching south of Old Harry.

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Escape to…a Cornish castle

St Michael’s Mount *

Location: Mount’s Bay, South Cornwall

Launch point: Marazion (SW 515308)

Distance offshore/ from launch point: 800m/ 800m

With its church and castle reaching skywards atop a 90m conical rock, the island of St Michael’s Mount is the most recognisable landmark in Cornwall. The island has been a religious site since the fifth century, when local fishermen experienced a vision of St Michael (after too much beer?). Various fortifications have also sprung up, latterly a decorative Victorian castle. The island is actually accessible on foot from Marazion by a tidal causeway which is covered for two hours either side of high tide. Paddle around the island and explore the far side at your leisure, then time your landing in the harbour as the causeway is cut off. This will allow you to stretch your legs and enjoy the gardens and castle in relative peace and quiet without the presence of kayak-less tourists. The castle belongs to the National Trust (brace yourself for the entrance fee) and is filled with an eclectic mix of stately rooms and eccentric artefacts, including mummified cats and samurai armour.

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Escape to…Cardiff

Flat Holm Island**

Location: Severn Estuary, South Wales

Launch point: Swanbridge (ST 167674)

Distance offshore/ from launch point: 4.5km/ 6km

Cardiff might not sound like the likeliest destination for an offshore escape, but it just so happens that the city limits encompass a small offshore island, Flat Holm. The paddle to Flat Holm from outside the Captain’s Wife Pub at Swanbridge isn’t long, but crosses some very strong tidal flows; this is a trip requiring solid planning and settled weather. Flat Holm is recognised by its flat profile and tall lighthouse and is not to be confused with the steep-sided island further away, unsurprisingly named Steep Holm. A paddle around the island will reveal numerous concrete fortifications overlooking the tidal rapids; these relics date from the Victorian era. The landing beach on the north side of the isle gets quite small at high tide, so approach with care and carry your kayaks high above the tide line. The island’s residents include the wardens who greet you, and (less welcomingly) 4000 pairs of shrieking, aggressive black-backed gulls. Wear a brimmed hat as the gulls have a tendency of using you for dive-bombing target practice! It is possible to stay in the farmhouse on the island with prior arrangement (see www.flatholmisland.com); one surprising bonus of this is the great night-time view of Cardiff proper, across the water.

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Escape to…a rock lighthouse

South Bishop Rock ***

Location: St David’s Peninsula, Pembrokeshire, South West Wales

Launch point: Whitesands Bay (SM 733271)

Distance offshore/ from launch point: 6.5km/ 9.5km

South Bishop Rock, topped by its squat lighthouse, can be spied from St David’s Head, the most westerly point of the Welsh mainland. This sheer-sided rock is the most distant of the Bishops and Clerks, an isolated chain of rocky islets inhabited only by seals, puffins, razorbills and guillemots. The seas surrounding the rocks throng with porpoises, instantly recognisable by the way in which their dorsal fin distinctively ‘rolls’ along the sea’s surface. The tidal flows here on the outer rim of Pembrokeshire are severe; the famous ‘Bitches’ tidal rapid is nearby and there is plenty of rough water. This trip is only for those confident to use the flows to time their paddle precisely to both make it to the South Bishop (the next stop is probably Ireland!), and to return safely. It is only possible to land and drag kayaks ashore in the calmest of conditions. From the small landing platform, a precarious set of steps lead up through a gulley in the rock to the summit. If you are lucky enough to experience such conditions, you’ll get to sit below the lighthouse and enjoy one of the finest lunch spot views in Britain, and you’ll almost certainly have it to yourself…

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Escape to…a secret archipelago

The Islands of Fleet *

Location: Fleet Bay, Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland

Launch point: Mossyards (NX 551519)

Distance offshore/ from launch point: 500m/ 2.5km

Hidden away in a quiet corner of south-west Scotland and barely glimpsed from the A75 are the three tiny Islands of Fleet; Murray’s Isles, Ardwall Isle and Barlocco Isle. The three low-lying isles are real gems in an area already blessed with lovely coastlines. They are located on the fringes of shallow Fleet Bay, the estuary of a river called the Water of Fleet. Approach the isles quietly and sensitively; the islands have significant populations of nesting seabirds whom you really don’t want to scare away from their eggs if you paddle too close. Seals will follow you to investigate as you paddle in and around the seaweed-strewn reefs which fringe each isle. This is a magical place for pottering about or simply drifting. Landing is possible in various places, but again be careful that your wandering won’t disturb the avian inhabitants. Time your paddle from the car park near the campsite at Mossyards around high tide. At low tide, the Fleet estuary dries out and it becomes possible to walk to and between some of the isles. Speaking hypothetically, if you were to launch late in the day from Mossyards, an hour or two before low tide…then you’d probably return to find that the launch beach was now a mile or two wide, and you’d probably end up having to head a mile or two further down the coast to land and have to walk back to the car in the dark. This is all hypothetical, however…

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Escape to…a seabird city

Bass Rock **

Location: Firth of Forth, East Lothian, Scotland

Launch point: North Berwick (ST 168674)

Distance offshore/ from launch point: 2km/ 4.5km

The Bass is a hefty plug of volcanic rock, rising incongruously from the Firth of Forth. Its impressively soaring cliffs (and some cavernous tunnels) would draw kayakers anyway, but they are not what you’ll remember best. Anyone lucky enough to find good weather to paddle out beyond the reefs and waves of North Berwick to visit Bass Rock, will most distinctly remember the smell. Gannets are Britain’s largest seabird, and 150,000 of them make quite a stench. Gannets are always a breathtaking sight, but here at Bass Rock you are witnessing nothing less than a gannet city. These huge birds occupy every spare inch of space on the rock, and the noise and clamour of their constant activity has to be experienced to be believed. They almost blot out the skies above as they wheel in dense circles, trying to spot fish below. Spying prey, they plummet seaward en masse, folding back their wings to enter the water in sleek dart-shapes. Go see, be astonished.  Do stay alert, however…this is an exposed spot with tidal flows and large ships passing through to take into account.

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Escape to…a barrier island

Scolt Head Island *

Location: North Norfolk

Launch point: Brancaster Staithe (TF 793445) or Burnham Overy Staithe (TF 845444)

Distance offshore/ from launch point: 500m/ 2km

Scolt Head Island is the gem of the North Norfolk Heritage Coast, a vast and unspoiled expanse of sandy shore hidden from sight behind Norfolk’s rather upmarket resort towns (dubbed ‘Chelsea-on-Sea’). The paddle across to the island is a short one, only being practical around high tide. This is Britain’s finest example of a ‘barrier’ island, a landform more common in exotic locations such as Australia. A line of high sand dunes protects the expansive salt marshes behind from the sea’s full force. The island stretches six kilometres long, with little going on…you’ve just successfully escaped the holidaying crowds of north Norfolk using your kayak as a getaway vehicle! The solitude is however seriously disturbed by the tens of thousands of geese who roost in autumn and winter, and by the shrieking terns which nest at the western end (avoid landing here). A paddle right around the island is possible with careful timing to ensure that there is deep enough water in the maze of channels on the landward side. At the western tip of Scolt Head Island, look out for the shipwreck which becomes visible as the tide falls. This genuinely wild island is a National Nature Reserve, treat with respect and leave no trace of your visit.

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Escape to…rusting wartime ruins

Redsands Fort ***

Location: Thames Estuary, Kent

Launch point: Warden’s Point, Sheerness (TQ 980748)

Distance offshore/ from launch point: 9km/ 15 km

Who says that offshore adventures must always involve rocks or islands? This very different escape leads paddlers to some haunting manmade relics. The long paddle down the Thames Estuary to Redsands Fort is best planned to ride the ebb tide out from Sheerness, and the flood tide back. This remarkable Fort consists of seven interconnected rusty towers rearing on stilts above the water, one of several similar ‘Maunsell Forts’ (named after their designer) erected during WWII to shoot down German bombers approaching London up the Thames. The Guardian newspaper described them as “some of Britain’s most surreal and hauntingly beautiful architectural relics”. Paddlers who have visited them tend to be less articulate, muttering descriptions like “Something out of ‘War of the Worlds’” and “Those walking things from ‘Star Wars’”. All agree that visiting the forts is an indefinably special experience. Plan your route carefully and pay close attention to buoys…Redsands Fort is just south of the main shipping channel into London and straying into the path of a container ship would ruin your day. Landing at the forts isn’t really practical, so be prepared to spend a fair while out on the water.

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The Lundy Crossing   2 comments

Full size Lundy panorama here.

The 21 mile paddle to Lundy Island is not as bad as it sounds…strong tidal flows help you along your way. It certainly shouldn’t be underestimated however; there is an awful lot of empty open water around you if anything goes wrong, and there is also a credible chance of totally missing Lundy if you misjudge your ferry glide angle.

I was quite keen to try a crossing which would arrive by night, having done it in daylight many times. We kitted up and loaded up our boats on the shore at Lee Bay in North Devon…however, as high tide was reached just before sunset (our planned departure time) there was a slight problem; ocean swell was smacking into (and often reaching over) the sea wall we were supposed to be launching below. We made some abortive attempts to launch a kayak, but realised that the only practical option was to wait an hour or so for the tide to drop. Trouble is, that would mean darkness from the start of our paddle, removing any safe ‘early abort’ option. After discussion, we realised that it wasn’t going to happen. We lugged the boats back up the launch ramp and slept in our cars, launching early the next morning instead.

Despite no wind, the paddle across was rough enough in the first half to make all of us sick or nauseous at some point…but then it completely calmed, allowing us to relax and enjoy the Manx shearwaters endlessly circling us at water level.

When the time came for the paddle back, the weather wasn’t great at all. We achieved the crossing using Plan #B.

Ynys Elen   2 comments

The Old Welsh name for Lundy Island is Ynys Elen, St Elen’s Island. Surely a great place for my 12 week old daughter Ellen’s first holiday! Thankfully, it turns out that Ellen loves tents and camping, but the 21 mile open crossing to the island by kayak was a bit beyond her at this point. She travelled with Mummy on the ferry, whilst a few of us paddled.

More pics of this fabulous place to follow…

Weather watching for Lundy   2 comments

We have booked to camp on Lundy, this coming weekend and beyond. My favourite island! I’m so excited by the prospect of returning to this wonderful place, that I’m not going to get angry that my 11 week old daughter has to pay to travel on the ferry, and is also charged the full rate to camp there each night.

A few of us plan to paddle across. However, whether it will be possible to make the 21 mile paddle across from North Devon is entirely dependent upon the weather, naturally. Watching the forecast intently…very much hope that this trip will come off.

Offshore of West Wales – Bishops, Clerks and Ramsey Island   Leave a comment

I’d volunteered to lead a trip at Mike Mayberry’s West Wales Sea Kayak Meet, perhaps unwisely as I have no current coaching or leading qualifications! I intended on running a fairly conservative and sheltered trip, given that I didn’t know half of my group, let alone what I was doing myself. However, as we ferry-glided out through big rolling waves from St David’s Head (in the company of dolphins, porpoises and wheeling gannets), it immediately became clear that I had a pretty competent and – more importantly – self-reliant group. By self-reliant, I mean that they were clearly able to make sensible decisions for themselves, and not just act like sheep. Splendid! The plan had been to ride the tide down to Ramsey Island and pass inshore of it, but after a bit of on-the-hoof guesstimating in my head, I realised that we were ideally poised to take on a much more committing and interesting trip; a full tour of the offshore rocks known as the Bishops and Clerks, and a circuit of Ramsey Island.

The group were all game (and not at all worried by the fact that we were now heading off the edge of my carefully pre-folded map) so we ferried out further, and committed ourselves to the complex tidal rapids around the offshore rocks.

These images show our paddle around the Bishops and Clerks, and our return to Ramsey Island.

All good.

Posted July 19, 2012 by MRY in Islands, Kayaking, Open crossings, Pembrokeshire, Tide races, Wales

Tide races of far west Wales   Leave a comment

Several miles west of St David’s Head, the westernmost point of the Welsh mainland. We’d just visited the rather remote ‘Bishops and Clerks’ rocks and South Bishop Lighthouse. These rocks sit offshore amid a huge area of extremely complex tides. Even though this was Neaps (the weakest tides), there was still enough flow to generate numerous tidal rapids (‘races’) such as those shown here.

All good.

Return from Flannan   Leave a comment

Last summer I tried to paddle out to the extremely remote Flannan Isles, but had to abort the trip several miles out due to the Atlantic Swell which would have likely made landing extremely difficult. The above image shows the mainland of the Isle of Lewis as I returned to it through the Atlantic rollers. The image below shows the fellow who first greeted me on my safe return.

Interesting trivia: if I’d made it to Flannan, I almost certainly wouldn’t have a stunningly beautiful two-month old daughter now.

Distant Wight   Leave a comment

Looking across Poole Bay from Swanage to the Isle of Wight. It seemed close enough to touch…but the crossing by kayak is actually about 18 miles. Must try it again, sometime soon.

Posted June 5, 2012 by MRY in Islands, Isle of Wight, Open crossings

Shipwrecked on Muckle Green Holm   Leave a comment

Heather and I had been stuck on the island of Rousay for three nights straight, waiting for the wind to drop. We were getting frustrated with our wait to head up into the North Isles of Orkney. One evening we returned to the tent and found that the wind had dropped…

Within an hour we’d packed the boats and were on the water, paddling across some surprisingly fast tides. The plan was to cross to Eday, a large island about five miles away. We pretty much continually surfed across standing waves for the first few miles. Things crept up on us; the wind cranked up behind us (against the tide), the waves steepened and roughened dramatically, and before we knew it, we were in full whitewater mode. By the time we realised how much we had extended ourselves, we were too far from Rousay to return easily, but nowhere near our intended destination. Our saving grace was a tiny uninhabited island called Muckle Green Holm which was located in mid-stream of these powerful flows. We were relieved to break out and take stock, in the huge churning eddies behind this island.

We couldn’t continue our crossing to Eday without taking on some fairly mad conditions; although it was only another mile or two, the next set of tide races (ominously known as the ‘Fall of Warness’) were frankly huge, and were surging and breaking hard. The route back was now similarly closed to us, and the tide was too strong for us to paddle north upstream against it. Escaping south with the tide wasn’t too promising either, due to the screaming headwind. On top of all that, the light was fading. We made the decision to land and camp on Muckle Green Holm, not ideal as we’d barely brought enough fresh water for a pot of tea with us! If we ended up stuck on MGH by the wind, we would be in big trouble.

Landing wasn’t straightforward, as the east side of MGH was rimmed by cliffs. We later discovered that there is a rocky beach on the NW side, but could not access this side of the island due to the strength of the tide flow. We eddyhopped up to the northern tip, where we were amazed to watch seals bodysurfing the standing wave created where the tide poured over a ledge. We considered climbing and hauling the boats up a muddy gulley from a geo, but eventually we found an better option; the rising tide made it possible to access the gradually sloping reefs on the southern tip of the island, where we were able to beach and unload.

Shipwrecked! The good news is that the next morning dawned calm and clear, so we were able to escape before our water ran out. Even so, the tides beat us again. We launched precisely on slack tide, yet still failed to make it direct to Eday, a mere mile away. Within 15-20 minutes of slack water, the tide was too strong for us to hold position, and we gave up trying to ferry across; we rode the tide north instead. We later learned that the spring flows we tackled commonly exceed 8 mph. A glance at a map of the Orkney Isles will reveal that this channel is basically a northerly cousin of the notorious Pentland Firth, but all of this wisdom was only gained in hindsight. I guess the clue was the experimental tidal power generator located in mid-flow…

Oh yes, Muckle Green Holm itself. It wasn’t ugly, and we weren’t alone. Aside from the hundreds of seals and the long neglected sheep (with ludicrously overgrown wool hanging to the ground), we were happy to make acquaintance with the innumerable shags, a small handful of whom are depicted here.

Traffic Separation Scheme   Leave a comment

Crossing between the mainland and the Isles of Scilly…

The Traffic Separation Scheme (TSS) will certainly give you something to look at. The TSS crosses  the middle third of your voyage, a massive maritime motorway. The two ‘lanes’ that you cross  (north going, then south going) are each 4.5km wide with a 3km ‘central reservation’. Despite the wide lanes, the big ships tend to form up in a single line cutting the corner from the Channel to the North Atlantic by the shortest route. The sight of container vessels stretching back to the horizon is pretty memorable.

From South West Sea Kayaking

Posted January 16, 2012 by MRY in Isles of Scilly, Kayaking, Land's End, Open crossings

Sark Lighthouse   Leave a comment

 

Passing Sark’s lighthouse early one morning; if I remember rightly, we were due to be at the northern tip of this Channel Island at 0746 am exactly, to begin an open crossing.

Posted December 16, 2011 by MRY in Channel Islands, Islands, Kayaking, Lighthouses, Open crossings

An ill-advised open crossing   1 comment

Here’s an account of my crossing to the island of Islay this summer, which was previously posted and discussed on UKRGB.

Several ways to end your days – an ill advised open crossing

Just thought I’d relate an interesting experience I had earlier in the summer – my crossing from the mainland to the island of Islay. Although this should have been straightforward, it proved to be my toughest ever crossing physically and more pertinently, most dangerous. I’ll summarise what happened and allow folk to draw their own conclusions as to why it was such a poor showing on my behalf.

The distance was about 14 miles (I think I did 16+ in the end), which I personally saw as no issue – I have done many much longer crossings, sometimes involving strong tides, which were not present here. However, I’d only been in a boat a handful of times in the previous month and certainly not paddled any distance.

My wife was taking the ferry across but dropped me off at my launch point, the Gigha ferry, patiently allowed me to get sorted, then left to catch the boat with little time spare. I did give Mrs R clear info on where I intended to land and when, and at what point I should be considered ‘overdue’ and the CG contacted.

I would be paddling W mostly. Forecast was NW 3-4, but there were only light breezes and ripples on the sea. As soon as Mrs R left, the wind increased notably – blowing from the NW. I considered calling her back, but this would have meant her/ us missing the ferry which had been booked months before.

I launched and paddled the first leg, 4 miles to the south end of Gigha island. The wind kept increasing and slowed me down, it was probably 5 by the time I reached the south point. I have no idea whether it got any stronger than this, but it was enough already to cause me big problems.

I was now looking at more than ten miles of open water with a much bigger fetch – steep close-spaced waves were breaking against the exposed side of Gigha. I have no doubt that at this point I would normally have turned back to the mainland, but of course I was ‘committed’ to my crossing in certain senses; e.g. I was supposed to be meeting Mrs R on the far side. At this point I also realised that I was not carrying any clothes other than those I was wearing, let alone a sleeping bag or tent. So plan #B – hop ashore onto Gigha and try again in the morning – was not an option. I also considered going ashore on Gigha and finding a BnB. But I wasn’t even carrying my wallet.

I made the decision to ‘dip my toe’ – paddle half an hour out from Gigha and see how it went, with the option of turning around and begging a bed on Gigha. However (and I have no idea why), I’m pretty sure that once I had turned my back on Gigha, I never for a moment gave turning around even a moment’s thought.

In the first half mile, several waves broke clean over me, somewhat disconcerting. However, things calmed down as I got into deeper water and I settled into a rhythm. I could not paddle on the intended bearing, it was simply too close to the wind and thus too wet – it meant hitting the windblown waves from the NW repeatedly and making no progress. I aimed further south, but still pointing at Islay.

After an hour, I checked the GPS – I normally hate using this gadget for navigation, but on this occasion I wanted to be sure. I had progressed 1.7 miles, paddling flat out with no breaks, and I was already exhausted. My normal relaxed cruising speed is 4 mph.

That’s it, really. I thrashed on, making slow progress and seriously worried about how long I’d be able to maintain the effort needed to keep making progress. I got pretty cold (suppose another thermal might have been a good idea under the cag) but did not break full-effort paddling for more than a quick mouthful of chocolate at any point. I looked up at one point and saw the ferry some miles to the north of me, and felt quite jealous of all onboard (Mrs R tells me it was a really smooth crossing and the sea looked quite pleasant from the decks!). Other than that it was all head-down paddling, non-stop, and I really wasn’t fit for this.

About 4 miles out from the coast of Islay, I was able to reassure myself that I was going to live through this. I am fully aware of how hyperbolic/ ridiculous that sounds, but it’s exactly what I told myself then, and for a couple of hours beforehand, I was really not sure how things were going to pan out. I was happier now because the swell had receded as I closed the fetch distance between land and myself, and the paddling was much easier/ smoother/ quicker. I was now able to turn more into the wind and regain some of the ground I’d lost off course.

A mile out from Islay, the sea was smooth, the sun was shining and seals came to see me from the reefs. Seeing this gorgeous evening, it was hard to believe what I’d just been out in. I had a relaxed chat with Mrs R on the VHF (just on the cusp of my ‘overdue’ cut-off time), then paddled in and joined her, wobbling quite a bit as I climbed out. I think I’d been paddling for over five hours.

Good news was, the curry house in Port Ellen was still open.

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