Loch Craignish in a little more detail

Once I realised that although the surface of the sea was constantly swirling and moving in the tide race, there were no downward currents to pull the inflatable under the water, it just wanted to carry me along with its flow. I went with the flow until I got bored and used the outboard engine to get me back to Island Macaskin. I wanted to stretch my legs, and look at the island in more detail. I landed again at the little rocky bay beside the crofts. This time the tide was almost full out.



I explored the little nooks and crannies in the bay looking for nature’s abstract patterns and this is what I found.









Heading for home, I was passing the isle of Eilean Righ, which is the largest island in Loch Craignish and is inhabited. I heard the roar of a powerful engine coming down the loch and then witnessed a very graceful take off when the owner of the island reached flying speed in his seaplane and headed off for the weekend shopping. I guess I did envy him a little, for all I had for my weekends shopping was the mackerel in my boat.



Before heading for home I stopped at the little churchyard on the Craignish peninsula, beside my launch point and had a look at the sculptured stones in the graveyard.



Looking at the stones, I thought back to my first visit when I lost my camera to the sea. I now left quit happy that I had thoroughly experienced the area and captured the atmosphere of my thoughts and the scenery in my blog.

Loch Craignish, Loch Crinan and the Doris Mor

I was glad to get back out in the little inflatable after wading through the head high bracken on Island Macaskin. I think the local midges and mosquitoes had not seen many people either and were making a big meal of me.

As I headed out to sea I caught my second mackerel of the day under a beautiful mackerel sky, with the paps of Jura as a backdrop.



I was now heading south for Loch Crinan. The salmon in the fish farm off Scodaig point were very lively, leaping into the air and landing with huge splashes. Then I saw why. A guilty looking seal appeared from under the nets. It was lucky I wasn’t the fish farmer or it could have been legally shot for trying to get its free lunch. I tossed it a mackerel but it showed little interest, it was more interested in the salmon. I guess I was too.



Once round the point, I headed east into Loch Crinan. I couldn’t help but envy this farm house setting. It had a lovely sea view across the loch and was sheltered on the other three sides by hills.



A little farther on I came across a cormorant with wings fully outstretched, presumably to dry them or perhaps to soak in some warmth from the sun ? Perhaps its not a cormorant and it’s really a shag ? But then again I not sure if a shag is just a slang term for a cormorant, so I will let the twitchers decide what kind of bird it is.



As I rounded its perch, it threw me a dirty look, uttered a squawk curse before hurling itself into the air. It had not quite reached flying speed, stalled in mid air fell back towards water, but with a skip and a hop of its huge flippers, it soon bounced up enough speed for an undignified take off.




My next port of call was to see Duntrune castle from the sea. Parked outside was what I can only describe as a real inflatable boat and outboard motor. I was pretty certain I could easily reach flying speed in that outfit.



I was starting to warm myself in the morning sun. It was turning into a beautiful day as I crossed the loch to Crinan village



The lighthouse marks the start of the Crinan canal



The converted fishing boat looked beautiful in its varnished wood. I doubt if its owners would know which end of a net to put in the water but I guessed they net a fair profit in their own business to afford such a tidy boat.



I had a quick tour round the other boats moored at Crinan before heading back to Loch Craignish. I didn’t envy any of them as I doubt if they had any more fun than I was having in my little inflatable.



It took a while to get back to Loch Craignish as I was doing trawling speed which is an average speed of catching four mackerel per hour, knot that I was in a hurry you understand. I headed for Island Macaskin again and discovered there was an inhabited house situated right on the southern most point of the island. I stopped here and would have anchored if I had one, so dropped my fishing line with five feather lures instead.



That’s when I discovered I was at the start of the Doris Mor tidal race. I was just drifting off to sleep when I noticed I had drifted quite far from shore. The water was still flat calm but strange shapes started to appear on the surface.



Soon the water was flowing like a river and my little inflatable started to bob about like a cork. Time to wind in the fishing line, start the engine and get out of here.



I played in the currents for a while just to get used to seeing and feeling the boat move and spin in the tide race. Although some very small whirlpools appeared, I knew I was a long way from the fast flows which could take an unwary inflatable boat out into the Corryvreckan.

Loch Craignish revisited and Island Macaskin

The following weekend saw me heading back at Loch Craignish. I wanted to take the photographs that I couldn’t on my first visit because I dropped the camera in the sea. The forecast was for light winds and bright weather so I set of on the Friday evening and spent another night sleeping in the car. It’s getting darker at night now and much colder. Before setting up my bed, I walked along to Craignish point to have another look at the Doris Mor tide race. I watched the currents flow in the sound of Jura and Im pretty certain I heard the distant roar of the Corryvreckan whirlpool which is situated between the headlands of Jura and Scarba in this photo.



I awoke early to a lovely calm day. The cool air was enough to keep the midges at bay. As I motored across the mirrored surface I caught the first mackerel of the day.



Passing through the narrow gap between the islands Eilean Righ and Eilean nan Gabhar, I saw an otter close in shore but it was to quick to photograph so I took a photo of the boat moored off the end of Island Macaskin instead. It hung around a bit longer than the otter did.



It was Island Macaskin that I was keen to explore again. There are a couple of ruined crofts marked on the OS map on the east side of the island and I wanted to check them out. I landed in a lovely little rocky bay and pulled the boat up. I didn’t know it until later..but I suspect the rocks were sharp with barnacles as I found a couple of deep scores in the bottom of the inflatable when cleaned it down at home. Just as well it is a PVC inflatable and easy to maintain .. a couple of patches over the scores and its now stronger than before.



Because very few people visit the island and there are no paths, I had to fight my way through head high bracken to get to the crofts.



What I found fascinating about these particular crofts was the remains of the old furniture, even though they were abandoned around 1880. It’s the first time I have seen that kind of thing still in situ in old crofts, presumably because there has been no one here to pillage the remains for firewood or scrap metal.

Perhaps these shelves were part of the kitchen larder ?



An old iron stove rusting quietly in the corner. Can you imagine the inhabitants huddled around it in a cold dark winters night? The red glow from the burning wood casting long eerie shadows into the dark corners.



The ceramic bath, it even had lead pipes that connected onto an old iron water tank on the outside of the croft. I confess I pillaged six inches of the lead pipe to melt into a couple of fishing weights. There was a hot and a cold tap too?



I can only imagine these were the tools used for tilling the ground and perhaps collecting the hay? I guess life was hard then. I cant imagine life without instant E mail and internet blogs. I wonder what they did all day ?

Loch Craignish and The Doris Mor

I had one last journey in the little Avon Redstart inflatable before I returned it to my mother. I went to Loch Craignish, a beautiful sea loch between Lochgilphead and Oban.



I asked my brother for advice on how safe this loch was and he assured me it is fine as long as I kept well clear of the loch’s entrance on the seaward side. He warned of a very strong tidal flow that can carry the unwary inflatable boat traveller straight across the Sound of Jura into the Gulf of Corryvreckan, which is home to the third largest whirlpool in the world. The tidal flow at the entrance to loch Craignish starts between the mainland at Craignish Point and the Island of Garbh Reisa and is called the “Doris Mor”. I was keen to see these mythical sounding places for myself so set off straight after work, on a lovely calm Friday evening.

I stopped in the car park at the end of the single track road to Craignish Point and had a look at the old pier here. I had the place to myself. I loved the feeling of open space after being cramped in the hectic office all week.



The Sound of Jura was flat calm because there wasn’t a breath of wind. I was glad it was still too early in the year for the midges and mosquitoes. Far off shore I could vaguely hear the squabbles of a million seabirds roosting on the rocky island of Reisa Mhic Phaidean. Somewhere closer the lonely piercing cries of an oyster catcher broke the still air like the sound of a police car siren. I wondered if that is why its called the sound of Jura ?



I was at the edge of the world again as I walked along the cliff edges towards Craignish Point and the fearsome flows of the Doris Mor. Lost in my own thoughts in this land that time seemed to have forgot, I passed strange rock formations and sea stacks that fired my imagination even further. Was that the sound of the Corryvreckan whirlpool beckoning me to row over and have a look ?



Resisting all temptations, I kept my new found sea legs firmly on terra firma and eventually arrived at Craignish Point. The start of the Doris Mor was clearly seen between the calm surface waters. It silently bubbled and boiled as it sucked and swept its way through the sea channel like some huge river in spate.



Its flow finally ending somewhere on the horizon between the setting sun and the islands of Jura and Scarba. I made my way back to the car park and had a restless night sleeping in the car dreaming of a giant whirlpool patiently waiting with it's never ending appetite for all things float some, jet some or unwary inflatable boat travelling.



In the morning I consoled myself with the thought " Well..at least Im no longer unwary " As the sun rose at 4.00am, I was already making preparations to launch the inflatable at the little bay beside the chapel at Kirkton on the Craignish Peninsula



As I loaded the boat, I was looking forward to a relaxing day rowing quietly along the smooth surface between the many islands in the loch, landing and exploring places new. I put the wooden plank that I used as a seat across the inflatable seat. I found it gave me more stability to row.



I was still half asleep as I floated gently on the golden reflections of the islands illuminated by the early morning sun. I was looking forward to landing and photographing the wild Iris and the bluebells that were now appearing as spring slowly turned to summer.



Although this is hardly a stunning photograph of Loch Craignish, it was the last photograph I took before becoming stunned myself. Moments later I landed on the first island, placed my camera on the wooden plank and hauled the inflatable boat up the beach. The camera slipped on the smooth surface, teetered on the edge the fell into the salt water.



In that single split second, I saw its soul disappear into the deep dark bottomless whirls of the Corryvreckan.

Im sad to say, that camera never took another photograph, but I have to look on the bright side and focus on the fact that the lens still functions and focuses perfectly. I continued my inflatable journey around Loch Craignish without further incident, but I couldn’t help feel a good friend had just died.

I will return to Loch Craignish one day, to avenge the death of my camera.