By Angela Ward
and Adam Evans
Photos: Adam Evans
and Angela Ward
Day four
Silently overnight, as if by some magical trickery, the sea had miraculously vanished. Probably less to do with the influence of Harry Potter and more to do with Mother Nature, although still magical nonetheless. The tide had receded by hundreds of metres leaving a carpet of sticky sand-covered black mud and revealing the carrageen-decked sides of Fhaodail Dubh. Dragging our boats through gloopy mud to paddle off seemed pointless on a serendipitous journey like this, so instead we decided to go exploring on foot. Equipped with maps, packed lunches and flasks of piping hot choccamochadoodah, a real boon in winter, we took a look at the River Shiel which was now flowing at low tide.
Moonlight on Moidart 2
Yesterday, I’d been amazed that we’d paddled from River Shiel onto Loch Moidart with such ease, as this was in stark contrast with my previous visit in 2014 and what we’d witnessed yesterday. With the tide in, there were barely a few riffles to be seen on the water, which culminated as a small tongue into the sea. With the tide out, it became a steep serious canoe-filling series of drops, with sharp rock edges barely covered by powerful rushing water.
Much like life itself, one of the secrets of canoeing is timing. How and where to canoe are important but when or when not to are key factors to success or failure. Things can go wrong very quickly. Different day, different conditions, different decisions.
As there was no rush and we had no particular agenda for the day, we then meandered along the banks of the Shiel. This gave us a lovely chance to see our paddling environment from a different perspective. Although beautiful to watch from afar, we both still had a hankering to be on the water rather than next to it.
Whilst we were in the vicinity, it seemed like a smart move to head for the pub in Acharacle, again so that we could get an up-to-date weather forecast and tide times, which would give us the information ‘when’. The opportunity to quench our thirst with sweet fruit cider and satiate our hunger with haggis pizza also seemed wise. Let’s not also forget the opportunity of using a ‘Porcelain Throne’ again!
As the light began to fade, we walked back along the road to Newton Ardtoe and the sanctuary of our tipi home. The fact that we were fed and watered meant there was no need to cook a meal. Instead we had one of usual ‘Cinema Tentipi’ sessions. Films, snacks and whatever alcohol was in our hip flasks.
Day five
Further exploration of the peninsula came the following day and we simply enjoyed to soaking up the atmosphere of this magical location.
We walked from our Tentipi Base Camp (TBC) across the marine pastures to pick up the main road to Gobshealach and onwards to Ardtoe, location of a ‘Local Hero’ style marine research facility.
Whilst the tide was out, we explored rock pools on the beach and then made our way across fields of highland cattle and up onto higher ground. Sitting atop the height of Farquhar’s Point, we could see white sandy bays tucked behind black volcanic rocks, shrouded with tall Scots Pines. Our fantastic panoramic vista also afforded wonderful views across Loch Moidart towards Castle Tioram.
Picking our way carefully back towards TBC, we inadvertently startled a small herd of young deer, barely a few metres away from us. Only their sudden movement gave them away amongst the camouflaged backdrop of darker orange heather and ferny fronds, swiftly within seconds they were gone.
The previous day we’d paddled on the South Channel but today, the quickest route back to TBC was by journey by foot along the sea bed. Being able to see our surroundings again from a pseudo-subterranean vantage point was certainly unique.
As the darkness drew in, so did the dark waters of the tide. When we arrived back at TBC, we wrapped up warm, illuminated ourselves and our canoes with several small lights and paddled out into the night. Knowing that we were camped at the limit of the tide-line, we gave ourselves only 90 minutes to explore the dark loch and make it back.
Conditions were so clear and calm that torches were not needed and using starlight alone, we could just make out the sharp roof edges of several small shacks which were dotted along the shoreline, roughly about 2,000m in the distance. In total, we probably paddled for around three kilometres and it was just magical. The ability to navigate under scotopic conditions and identify landmarks using our peripheral vision meant that we could truly feel part of our nocturnal surroundings.
We knew to keep the coastline on our left as we headed back down Faodhail Dhubh until we reached the rocky outcrop which shielded our tipi from main view. Timed to perfection, we reached TBC as the tide was beginning to recede and so the water’s edge was about eight metres from the tipi. It was then a simple matter of dragging our boats up onto the grass, for the remainder of the long dark night. Another micro-portage involving a minimal amount of physical exertion!
Day six
Blue skies and calm waters greeted us, rather than the near-apocalyptic weather conditions, which had been predicted. Pretty typical for Scotland then! We spent a blissful few hours heading along the South Channel with amazing views across to the snow-capped islands of Rhum and Eigg.
It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I have a slight obsession with seals and otters. Thus far in this adventure, we had seen neither so you can probably imagine my delight when we finally spotted a solitary seal. Not as cheeky as the seals of Loch Sunart and Teacuis although still a delight to see wildlife in its beautiful maritime habitat. The only otter we saw on this trip was depicted in the North Channel on a placemat in the pub in Acharacle and if it was to scale it would have been the size of Godzilla. I have it on good authority from Sir Ray Goodwin that these are in fact killer otters and paddlers must beware. Possibly even more deadly than the wild haggis, which roam across Scotland in search of unsuspecting prey. Wilderness paddling is not all fun and games!
Castle Tioram
I’d only ever seen Castle Tioram from a distance and with the tide in so now we had the opportunity to park up and take a closer look. The interior was a tangled mass of branches, leaves and creeping vines although this only served to enhance the beauty of the castle and its roughly hewn blocks of stone and wrought ironwork.
There’s always something very special to visiting tourist attractions by boat although on this occasion we needed to be mindful of the tidal conditions. Not because of any danger but because we didn’t relish the prospect of a long portage across the sand if we could avoid it. Almost as if we were just lucky rather than having planned ahead and timed it to perfection, we arrived at the shore close to Castle Tioram car park. There we loaded up the boats and kit and headed off on our travels.
We decided that liquid refreshment was vital so we called in at the Glenuig Hotel. After a chat with one of the bar staff, it transpired that for a meagre £3 each, we could make use of their shower facilities. I think that I probably looked in need of a good wash, whereas Adam looked rather rugged. This was without doubt the best £3 that we’d ever spent. Never underestimate the luxury of hot running water especially when you don’t need to repeatedly press a button to keep it running!!
Loch Eilt and in particular, Essan Bothy was a life tick moment because I’m a moderator of ‘View FROM My Canoe’ and was inspired by a photograph, which had been posted there by Andy MacArthur a few months previously. The comment thread involving Andy was relating to unusual things which people had transported in their boats. I’ve helped to rescue a live sheep on the LLeyn Peninsula, I’ve rescued a large radio-controlled model boat on Llyn Padarn and I’ve assisted the Fort William Coastguard in a salvage operation on Loch Lochy. Technically speaking, I did the salvaging while they watched from the beach but that’s another story in itself!
The unusual object in Andy’s photograph was a full-size stainless steel kitchen sink and it’s intended location was Essan Bothy. Apart from paddle exped food planning, which I really enjoy, domestic duties hold little interest for me and yet somehow I felt compelled to visit the Silver Kitchen Sink of Essan Bothy.
At Loch Eilt, we parked up and quickly got onto the water, only taking with us what would be necessary for the next 2-3 days. Paddling across the loch and inching under the railway bridge and up the tiny river we left our canoes and strolled to the bothy. A large group of friends had already taken up temporary residence inside so we popped in to say hello and pitched our tipi on the large area of flat grassland near the stream and our canoes. Paying heed to the ‘Flash Flood’ sign, we tied our boats to said sign and enjoyed an alfresco evening meal on the nearby small shingle beach.
DAY seven
After a restful night’s sleep, it seemed very appropriate to enjoy a leisurely breakfast of freshly-made pancakes and maple syrup, cooked on our own private shingle beach. Well, it was private until we heard the sound of something approaching along the train tracks and realised it was the Hogwarts Express. I’m not sure who was more surprised, us or the bemused passengers! Once they’d realised that there was indeed a tipi in the middle of nowhere with two people having breakfast, there were lots of smiles and waves. Even the engine driver gave us a ‘toot toot’, which was amazing. Another of life’s perfect moments.
We relocate to the bothy itself as my pilgrimage to visit the Silver Sink of Essan Bothy had still not been completed. Having packed up our kit and moved inside, we decided to go for a walk up a big hill whilst the tipi dried out in the bright Spring sunshine. As much as I love being on the water, having the opportunity to paddle to remote locations and then explore on foot, is all part of the adventure. Seeing things from different perspectives always enhances the feeling of what being a wilderness paddler is all about.
From our vantage point high up on Sgurr na Paite, imagine our repeated excitement to see the Hogwarts Express appearing yet again but from the opposite direction. I wouldn’t regard myself as an avid railway enthusiast but to see the plumes of smoke from the red engine against the stunning backdrop of Loch Eilt and the mountains beyond, was truly special.
The experience was perhaps even more special than seeing Andy MacArthur’s legendary stainless steel kitchen sink.
I am a member of the Mountain Bothy Association (MBA) as it’s important for me to support their work. Their aim is to maintain simple shelters in remote country for the use and benefit of all who love wild and lonely places. They’re certainly not holiday homes in the accepted sense as they can’t be booked in advance and there are basically no facilities such as running water or electricity. What they do offer is the opportunity to have solid walls, windows and a roof. There might be raised wooden platforms to sleep on and sometimes there are fireplaces too.
All maintenance work is done by volunteers and is paid for by voluntary contributions. More information can be found at www.mountainbothies.org.uk
As the evening drifted on and we sipped hot drinks outside, the train passed by and yet this time it began to slow down to a stop. Pulling away, the train left behind one person who began a slow stooped trudge up to the bothy, the stoop hinted to the young man pushing his touring bicycle equipped with bulging panniers up to the bothy for the night. Much like us he was exploring Scotland by human power mostly and had use the train to get easy access to the bothy and enjoy the space inside rather than being cramped in his small touring tent.
DAY eight
On the final morning of our adventure, it seemed appropriate to use up the remainder of our exped food. I always calculate things carefully so that we have just enough supplies for the duration of our trips plus a small supply of emergency provisions. Breakfast today was pancakes with mocha spread, washed down with choccamochadoodah. A chocolate coffee pancake morning festival. What’s not to love ?
Back in our boats for the last short hard battle back, we slipped out of the stream under the railway bridge and into the head on Force 5 winds. Tactically making our way up the loch edge into wind free eddies, we finally launched out for a hard 20-minute battle to cross the Loch and also continue up the edge to the layby where the car was parked.
