Words:
Richard Janes
Photos:
Gethin Roberts
and
Richard Janes
Rich Janes and Geth Roberts (Sea Kayaking Wales), visit the Shiant islands from Reinigeadal and continue to Uig (Skye).
Midsummer across the Minch
Summer Solstice! Wind (BF 5/6) and beyond as the squalls roar against the tent and shred our plans with its non forecast persistence. Storm bound on a tiny island in Loch Tarbert (Harris, Western Isles) whose real estate we explored whilst the kettle boiled. The previous day we had managed to circumnavigate Scalpay, which tempted us with her interesting lighthouse on the SE tip at Eilean Glas. The original lighthouse was built in 1788-9 and the first to be built in the Western Isles. Blowing against an ebbing tide, we found challenging seas here. Clapotic hurdles for laden boats in the race towards the lighthouse.
Checking weather forecasts enough to flatten batteries gave us hope that the moderate forecast for around 2.5 days would remain. And we made a plan! Kayak back to Uig (Skye) across The Minch via the Shiant Islands. Our launch point to be the Bothy in Glen Reinigeadal from an early start.
Setting off for Reinigeadal and in welcome sunshine, we congratulated ourselves on our paddle technique as we slid down Loch Tarbert with a tail wind (BF 5) and ignored the ubiquitous and dour fish farm. Under the Scalpay Bridge, through Caolas Scalpaigh and turning north, we were in shelter and another world. Stunning coastline, hills and flotillas of feasting birds. Beaks clutching precious Sandeels gave the menu away. Out of shelter, we had a short paddle across Loch Trolamaraig against a feisty wind but in bright sunshine the vista was now truly stunning and we knew the bothy, shower and food was close. A short (6NM) day which gave us a chance to enjoy the simple luxuries of bothy life, drinking tea in warm sunshine.
For those who understand the pleasures, our ‘Alpine Start’ the next day began at 05.00 but the morning stumbles and cursing was rewarded by a busy pair of otters starting their day. We paddled between Eilean Dubh a Bhaigh and Eilean Mor a Bhaigh to be wowed by the distant views of Scotland’s north western seaboard. Benefiting from the now southerly wind and north going tidal stream, The Shiant islands slowly got closer.
Our paddling time to the Shiants (10NM) was longer than planned. Maybe we paused too long for the views? Or maybe it was something else…
the blue men
The Blue Men live in the Sound of Shiant. They are said to be like selkies, the souls of dead mariners.
A boat travelling through these waters will begin to slow down, this is due to the Blue Men taking hold of the vessel, holding it back. Sailors have witnessed eerie long thin blue hands coming over their boat’s gunnel.
A boat can be caught forever in this icy grip, at the mercy of the weather and the will of the waters, but the Blue Men give you a chance. If you can answer questions asked by the Blue Men, they will release you! Don’t believe me? Sitting in a kayak amongst fast water, several miles from land does strange things to the mind. Maybe the first answer for the Blue Men is ‘seamanship’?
seabirds
As we approached the Shiants (pronounced, ‘Shants’) we were amazed by the number of seabirds. The islands are one of the most important breeding colonies for seabirds in Europe – around 10 per cent of UK puffins and 7 per cent of UK razorbills breed here every year. Apparently, there are more Puffins on St Kilda but at a lower density. We met land at Garbh Eilean and massive basalt columns. “Piano keys,” said Geth. More impressive than Fingal’s Cave on Staffa. The journey along the northern aspect was marked by simply thousands of Puffins. Birds flying everywhere, lifted in spume. Whirring rebellion to these kayak invaders of their place.
We entered the bay through a natural arch and tunnel, through the cave of Toll a Roimh.
Phew! Land and a leg stretch before a visit to the bothy, owned by the Nicolson family (not resident). Adam Nicolson has written a most excellent book about his involvement with the islands, ‘Sea Room’ (2001). The short stay residents kindly shared the fire and conversation whilst we had lunch. Black rats once occupied the bothy and island but following an eradication scheme, the island was declared rat free in 2018.
‘Shiant’
The name ‘Shiant’ is from the Scottish Gaelic Na h-Eileanan Seunta, which means the ‘charmed,’ ‘holy’ or ‘enchanted isles’.
Nicolson (2001) adds ‘hallowed,’ ‘haunted,’ ‘spooky’ and ‘otherworldly’ to the possible meanings of senta, the Irish equivalent of the Scottish Gaelic sianta.
The islands have a very special atmosphere and it would be difficult to argue with any of these names.
So, we walked and enjoyed feeling the wind drop whilst waiting for some tidal assistance for the journey south to Uig (Skye). Even from our high point, Skye seemed a long way away! The walk did wonders for our bodies, creaking from the continuous motion of paddling. The tooth shaped Galtachan Islands to the west looked impressive;
Dark studded diamonds,
Hewn by nature’s might,
Anchored in a sea of swelling, brilliant silver.
With our navigation targets barely visible, we set a southerly course into lively, blue water and the sun. We could see the metal structure of Sgeir nam Maol, located around 2NM north of the headland of Rubha Hunish from a long way off. Getting there was a significant marker and with fabulous views of Trotternish (Skye) and the islands of Fladaigh Chuain, it felt very special. The sea now changed. Sgeir nam Maol forms part of Comet Rock, which extends from around 0.5NM and close to the surface it can cause heavy breaking seas.
Fortunately not this day! But it did form some waves where we felt good enough to turn around and have a short play. The large population of Common seals were not impressed.
Whilst Skye was now close, we were barely halfway to Uig! With such knowledge and realisation that we might just get to Uig in time for chips and beer, Geth and I ‘poured on the coals’. We were both paddling identical Zegul Arrow (HV) composite boats and matching each others pace, which got faster until we got to the point where additional effort had poor return. It seemed an age to pass the rocky islets of Lord McDonald’s Table, followed by the rocks of An Dubh Sgeir cutting the water. Stunning, savage, powerful place.
the Western Isles
Very soon, the sea became calm. Ever changing distant views, the Western Isles formed a beautiful backdrop to the west and Skye was illuminated in the most glorious light. Pity the body was beginning to ache. At this stage of a journey I try to use different muscle groups for a few strokes. Combined with mind games, the miles soon pass. How many strokes to that buoy? Using transits, the miles were getting harder! We managed to chuckle when we realised we had both marked distance using the most phallic (mimetolith) rock, standing proudly on a base of seaweed. Looking around, the Western Isles were now a distant blur, water stretching to the sun.
Tired and now quite hot, we turned south into Loch Snizort and a fantastic view of the Cuillin Hills, sharp relief in the early evening sun. We also saw the ferry coming in from Lochmaddy and it looked tiny, such is the scale of the place.
We shared a great day and journey, which felt like three. Genesis of dreams and memories, which will last with us a lifetime.
Postscript… we were back in time for a beer! We tried to buy chips as the owner was locking the door. “Don’t you know what time it is?” She said. “Um…er, but it’s still light!” We said. Skye does a wonderful curry.
Reference : Nicolson, Adam (2001) ‘Sea Room’
