Words:
Martyn Chandler
Photos:
Martyn Chandler
What the Isle of Islay has to offer…
My name is Martyn, and I have been getting out on the water in some form or another for most of my life. A few years ago, I moved to a city for my career, and with no exciting water around me and space at a premium, I didn’t kayak regularly for the first time in years. I have since moved to the Isle of Islay and have rekindled my love for kayaking. I wanted to share with everyone what this island can offer!
Islay has been inhabited since Neolithic times. Various people have come and gone over the Centuries, leaving their mark on the island. The Vikings made this island their home before being removed by the Scottish Crown. The Lord of the Isles then chose Islay as the seat for the land he controlled. The Lords of the Isles were powerful in their day and were second only to the monarchs of England and Scotland in terms of land ownership, control and wealth. They enjoyed naval prowess with large fleets of galleys. It is hard to believe now, but back then, the Celtic Sea, Wales and the Scottish Islands were essential trade routes.
Nowadays, Islay is known predominantly for one thing: its heavily smoked and peated whisky. There are currently 10 working distilleries on the island, with another one under construction and another two in planning. If you enjoy a dram, Islay is the place to visit! Most are positioned on the coast, so they serve as good waypoints. Laphroaig, Lagavulin and Ardbeg are so close together you could even have a water-based distillery crawl. However, I would advise against drinking and kayaking. I definitely haven’t… Honest!
Example trip: Dower House to MacArthur’s Head Lighthouse
Total distance: 36-40km, depending on the amount of exploration. I did it in around eight hours with plenty of extra stops.
Loch Indaal
I wake up early and take a walk to the end of the street. Here I get a good view over Loch Indaal, where I can gauge the wind speed and direction. As predicted, the weather will be good for a paddle over the south east side of the island. I am lucky to live here; I can step out my front door and know which areas of the island will be suitable for paddling that day. A one-minute walk confirms it for me. I think there are a few places in the UK where you can develop this level of intrinsic awareness of weather and how it affects local waters.
The boat is already racked, and the kit is all ready to go, so a bit bleary-eyed, I set off for the launch point before most islanders have gotten out of bed. I drive the short distance to Port Ellen, where I see the ferry coming in for the first trip of the day, and continue ‘up country’ past both Laphroaig and Lagavulin distilleries and onto the single track roads, where I start to feel like I am in that liminal space where civilisation ends, and adventure begins. There is a steep hill with a sharp bend in the road leading to the Dower House, an impressive old home now a bed-and-breakfast.
Just past this house is a layby that is just big enough for my van to fit and still allow the area to be used as a passing place. Over the road is a picturesque bay, protected from most inclement weather by an island right in its mouth and a rather steep hill on the landward side. The sand is soft, there is not a breath of wind and the water is crystal clear. There is a single dinghy moored on a line – the local fisherman being the only person to be awake before me today.
I launch my old, battered, but reliable Current Designs Scirocco into the water and begin paddling towards the first island called Rubha nam Balla. I have had this boat for a long time, and I find there is something comforting about the familiarity of paddling the same boat for many years. It’s strange to say, and it turns out even more challenging to describe, but after years of paddling the same boat, you get to know it on a deeper level. It feels almost sentient, like there is a shared knowledge of how to paddle when I’m sitting in it.
She has a name, Rosalie. It is no longer just a bit of shaped plastic. Over the years, lots of people have questioned my boat choice, some even saying it is in worse condition than some of the club boats. Perhaps I am a sentimental fool, but I won’t let go of this boat until it cracks, and maybe not even then.
Anyway, I am by myself, as I often am when I am paddling now. A multitude of feelings are in my head at the moment. Excitement for the day ahead, that feeling of reconnecting with an old friend and, in the back of my head, a little trepidation. I take all necessary precautions when paddling solo, but there is always that niggle that something untoward could happen, however unlikely. I haven’t swum for many years, and I can’t even remember the last time I capsized outside of controlled situations. Nevertheless, that feeling is still there. I think this is healthy, and I would worry about myself if that niggle left me.
You see, I love solo kayaking. I have a job and home life that keep me around people all the time, and it is therapy for me to spend some time alone doing something I love. I started in the first place out of necessity, since it isn’t easy to find buddies in a small place like this. Add that to personal life, work commitments and weather, and it becomes a logistical nightmare to get on the water with anyone. Solo paddling solves this. I love the freedom to do whatever I want. I am also a snorkeler and once landed in a small cove on the Oa peninsula to swim 500m to a snorkel spot I wanted to try. I don’t think any kayaking buddy would be too impressed with me in that situation!
Constantly risk assessing
On the flipside, I have to always err on the side of caution. I don’t go out by myself whenever I see white horses in the loch, and I don’t go anywhere near tidal flows. I am also constantly risk assessing when I am out and am never far from a landing spot. This does curtail where I can paddle.
Digression aside, once around the initial island, I look out Southeast and see the edge of another set of islands called Ceann nan Sgeiren and Eilean Bhride. I plan to paddle out to those islands and travel along the seaward edge. There are several tiny islands around here, which results in some top-tier rock hopping. I move between the islands until a splash catches my eye.
At first, I assumed it was a cormorant, as I had already seen loads of them today. It turns out to be an otter who has just caught breakfast. It looks like a small lobster has been caught – otters eat well here. I am surprised by how chill this otter is. He knows I am there and seems unfazed. My sightings of this species to date have been rare and fleeting, so this is a real treat and one I can’t wait to tell my wife about (she will be jealous!).
Red Deer stag
Continuing, I get to the end of this set of islands and make the small crossing across Poll a’Chreoig to Eilean a’Chiurn. This is a much larger island by comparison, and as soon as I get to its shores, I am greeted by a Red Deer stag. It is well known that these animals are good swimmers and travel between the islands in search of fresh plants to graze. I have never seen one swimming myself. That sight is on the wish list.
I continue along the Eastern coast of this island until my waypoint comes into view. It is a small lighthouse on the NE edge of Eilean a’Chuirn. I saw this lighthouse from a ferry trip and instantly wanted to get close to it. I don’t know about other sea kayakers, but I seem to get drawn to lighthouses, which is, of course, precisely the opposite of what they are designed for.
The lighthouse is set a little further back up the island than I initially thought, and the rocks in this area make landing difficult. I continue, a little worried that I won’t be able to get onto the island easily and go around to the Northern part of the island. Here I find a stony bay that allows easy egress. To get to the lighthouse, a fairly challenging uphill scramble through nettles, bracken and brambles was required. Eventually, I came to the lighthouse, which is very small by lighthouse standards. You can climb the external ladder to enjoy the view from the top.
Satisfied that I had ticked off my lighthouse visit, I spent a bit more time on this uninhabited island, having lunch and doing a bit of snorkelling and swimming alongside at least ten curious seals (both Harbour and Grey Seals) before launching again and heading N/NW towards the Islay mainland. Once back on the Islay shoreline, you can head back to the start, rock hopping as you go or head in the opposite direction and continue NE towards Ardmore Point.
From here, you can follow the coastline generally North, exploring the bays and rock hopping among the tiny islands. There is a small bay called Glas Uig, which on the map appears to be of little interest. There is actually a white-tailed sea eagle nest in this area, so it is one of the best places to find this magnificent bird.
German U-boat
If you like your World War II history, you will be interested to know that a German U-boat took refuge in this bay for weeks. Local farmers were wondering where their livestock were disappearing to, and it wasn’t until years later that a visitor and a previous German submariner admitted to some locals in a pub that they were restocking food and water in this remote part of the island.
Continuing, you will reach Claggain Bay, another ideal egress point, and you may choose to park and shuttle if you have the luxury of a buddy. Continuing, you will reach a small bothy called Proaig. You can stay in this bothy, but you kind of need to like cold, wet nights and don’t mind sharing with sheep. Behind the bothy is Islay’s tallest peak, Ben Bheigier. To the right, you will find MacArthur’s Head Lighthouse perched up on a hill. This is accessible by both foot and boat from here. A small pier and a long set of steps access the latter. Within the hill between Proaig and MacArthur’s Head, you may spot a cave.
Baldy Mhurachaidh
This is the cave where a now-legendary illicit distiller, Baldy Mhurachaidh, once made his brews. It is said that an islander betrayed him, apparently because he had annoyed him. The excise men were told where to look for him, but he escaped and hid his last keg of whisky somewhere in the area. Legend has it that it has never been recovered, and Baldy’s whisky could still be found today.
I hope that this has whetted your appetite for exploring the island. This is just one example of a trip that can be done easily and contains wildlife, folklore, history and stunning scenery. The island is steeped in history, mythology, legends and an unrivalled knowledge of the sea from people who have lived and worked here for a very long time.
Spend any time here, and the culture starts to seep in through every pore. You even begin to pick up Gaelic here. It is similar to Welsh, so I have an upper hand, having grown up in North Wales. This makes sense, as around 800 AD, a kingdom that incorporated Wales, Western Scotland and Cornwall existed.
There is something here for every sea kayaker, from impressive cliffs, sea caves, stacks and arches, isolated beaches, coves that are only accessible by small boat, several tidal flows that can become races, a world famous whirlpool if you venture to the neighbouring Jura, surf spots, uninhabited islands and abundant sea life.
So if you want to paddle somewhere a little different, give Islay, or indeed any of the Hebridean Islands, a go. It is incredible just how different they all are. Each has its own characteristics that make it unique.
