Words & photos:
Ollie Sandeman
Head of Paddlesport
Plas Y Brenin

Ollie Sandeman

About Ollie
Ollie is the Head of Paddlesports at Plas Y Brenin, where he shares his passion for adventure and the outdoors with others. In 2025, he will be leading an exciting expedition to the Peel Watershed in the Yukon, offering a unique opportunity to explore this stunning wilderness. Join Ollie for an unforgettable experience in a location which should be on every canoeist’s wish list. For more information about the expedition and how to participate, visit PYB.co.uk.

If you want to follow my journey, check out the short film I made titled ‘Wild Voyage’ on YouTube at @oliversandemancanoe https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYzAndMKPpo

Morar to Morar: A solo canoeing expedition around Knoydart and the surrounding area

In each of the past few years, I’ve taken some time off to do a canoe expedition in Scotland. The expeditions usually involve an area I’m yet to explore, a rather large portage, and ideally, a mixture of whitewater, lochs, and sea.

I’d been eyeing up a circuit starting and finishing at Loch Morar that met these criteria, and I decided to travel solo this year.

I’d mapped the trip out to be 160km, starting in Loch Morar.  I’d head into the Sound of Sleat, up to Loch Hourn, portage 6km over into Loch Cuaich, onto the Garry, into Loch Oich, Loch Lochy, a portage over to Loch Arkaig, then onwards to the notorious 13km portage through Glen Pean and into Loch Morar to finish back where I started.
It was going to be tough, but I knew it was achievable in the six days I had.

Day one
I set off from the West side of the loch and paddled down to the River Morar, the shortest river in the UK. It consists of a weir (which had to be portaged) and a short grade 3 rapid with a hole at the bottom. I hopped in my boat and made it through the rapid, albeit slightly swamped. It was an excellent way to mark the start of the trip and the beginning of the section on the sea. Before long, seals followed my boat, and a white-tailed eagle flew overhead. It felt great to be back in Scotland on an expedition.

At Mallaig, I decided to paddle 6km across the mouth of Loch Nevis, a big crossing in a canoe but easily manageable given the conditions. I made it a couple of kilometres into Loch Hourn and set up camp. I sat next to a fire, watching the sunset, starting to acknowledge what I had committed to and excited for the adventure to come.

Day two
Loch Hourn was new to me. It translates from Gaelic to Loch Hell, but I can tell you it was far from Hellish! The scenery was spectacular, the conditions were excellent, and I even had a pod of dolphins playing and jumping out of the water a short distance from my boat.

It was about 16:00 by the time I reached Kinloch Hourn, and with the boat and kit loaded onto the trolley, I set off up the road. It was 6km before I’d reach Loch Cuaich, with a climb of 260 metres. Before long, it was getting dark, and the only company I had were the croaking stags. Occasionally, I pan around with my headtorch and see countless pairs of eyes shining back at me.

I had set myself the goal of reaching the loch before pitching up for the night. I knew I was close but couldn’t see water. Tired and looking at the steep road ahead, I set up camp.

Day three
I awoke early, keen to press on. I continued to trolley up the road, knowing it wouldn’t be long before I reached a side track leading down to the loch. I was escorted down the road by a herd of highland cattle. It was nice to have the company, albeit a bit intimidating.
I reached the water and set off across Loch Cuaich. Before long, I’d reached the dam and portaged up and over to where I could get onto the river.

The Upper Garry is a section that doesn’t seem to get paddled too often. However, I’d recommend it if you’re up for an adventure. The first few kilometres will put your lining skills to the test as you navigate through shallow rapids and drops before reaching a couple of exciting grade-two rapids leading into Loch Garry.

Loch Garry was perfectly calm. The only disruptions were the splashes of my paddle, the deer running along the side and the otter I saw playing halfway down the loch. I arrived at the dam as the light was starting to fade, portaged to where I could easily access the water the following day, and set up camp.

Day four
Much to my disappointment, during my six days available, there was no release scheduled, so I knew I’d be lining my boat down most of the river, only able to paddle one or two of the rapids. I left the Garry and joined the Caledonian Canal at Loch Oich. There was a light wind, so I raised the sail and made my way to Laggan Locks for lunch.

At Loch Lochy, I was fortunate to have a force 3 tailwind and sailed down to Clunes. It was brilliant to cover some distance while getting some much-needed rest.

I arrived at Clunes to be greeted by a group of paddlers. I was cold by this point; my paddling thermals were damp and chilly, having sat still while sailing. I started carrying my kit up to the road and chatted with the group. Before I knew it, I was sitting around their fire with a slice of banana bread and a cup of tea. I love how friendly the paddling community can be, and the kindness these paddlers showed me was a much-needed boost in morale.

It was hard to leave the fire, knowing that I had a long night ahead of me. Setting my sights on reaching the end of the Arkaig before the end of the day, I set off over the 3km portage.

By the time I reached the loch, it was 18:00. I stopped to refuel, cooking up some dinner to give me the energy I needed for the 19km paddle across the loch.

Loch Arkaig was a Loch I had yet to paddle and another that had been high on the list for some time. With pine woodlands along the shoreline and overlooked by dramatic mountains, it’s a very scenic Loch. I was treated to calm conditions and a very atmospheric paddle, with the sun setting behind the mountains and light sitting in the mist.

By the time I was halfway down the loch, I was paddling in complete darkness. I was cold and tired, and it was no longer such an enjoyable paddle. I put my headphones in to lift my spirits and pass the time.

The sky was completely clear, and the stars were out in force. I spotted multiple shooting stars. Suddenly, I hit a rock, which gave me the fright of my life. I turned my headtorch on and realised I had made it. I had reached the river Pean, and it was time to set up camp. It was 22:00.

Day five
Today was going to be a big day as I was planning to break the back of the portage. I set off paddling up the river, hoping to get as close to the bothy as I could. A mere kilometre up the river at Strathan, the river was too low to make progress. I carried the boat up to the forestry track and started the 5km trolley up the road towards Glen Pean bothy. Once at the bothy, I stopped for lunch, reorganised my bags, and set my system ready for the portage.

I was carrying a 65-litre drybag with my tent, sleeping bag and mat, clothes, etc., and a 35-litre duffel for my food and cook system. I tied my trolley to the bottom of the big rucksack and secured my poles and paddles to the straps on the top of the duffel. I then slung the small duffel on top of the rucksack and headed up into the valley.

The first section was relatively easy portaging. I occasionally used the creek to pole and drag until I reached the first lochan. I stopped here for a few minutes to take in the serenity of the lochan, and following a short paddle, I was back to it. There was no track of note, just broken tracks where deer and the occasional walker had been; I snaked my way through, trying to avoid sinking into the boggy marshland.

I’d reached a steep section choked with boulders around 18:00. I knew I had an hour and a half or so of light left, so I pressed on. I knew this section was going to be tricky, so I ensured the PLB was clipped to me at all times. I took the bags up and over to find the small lochan had completely dried up, leaving a bog between the boulder choke section and a steep climb ahead. I carried the boat on my shoulders and carefully navigated the boulders, making it down to the bog.

Light started to fade, and so did morale. This was the first solo expedition I had done, and part of the appeal was to test myself physically and mentally. I had fared well up to this point, but with the lochan dried up, no place to camp, light fading, stags croaking, and a really steep section ahead of me, this was a point where I wished I had some company to lift spirits.

I decided to leave the boat, take what I needed for the evening, and climb to the height of the land. I got to the top and found an amazing spot to camp, which looked down on the valley towards Loch Morar. I couldn’t see the loch, but I knew once I got my boat to this point, it was all downhill. I pitched up, had food, and tried not to concern myself with the challenge of getting my boat to where I was in the morning.

Day six
The wind was so strong during the night I had to check that my kit wasn’t going to be blown off the high point where I was camped; not only did I have to get my boat up to where I was but a further 2km to reach the loch, portaging in powerful winds. I climbed down to the lochan, put the boat on my shoulders, and started to clamber up the steep mossy boulder climb, resting now and then and taking it slow in order not to make a silly mistake and injure myself. Once at the high point, I slid my boat on a line as far as possible, then continued under the yoke.

Finally, I could see the loch, which provided the boost I needed to press on. Before too long, I arrived at the loch just up from Oban Bothy. The view back up the valley was spectacular. I’m glad it wasn’t the view I was greeted by at Glen Pean Bothy, as I may have just turned around! I had lunch and took a moment to appreciate my achievement and my last few moments alone in the Scottish wilderness. I knew that in 16km, I’d be back where I started my expedition and returning to civilisation.

Typically, the wind, which I had hoped would send me down the loch, had all but disappeared. I slowly drifted down the loch, glancing behind me every now and then to look where I had been. Then, I picked the paddle back up and pushed on for the last few kilometres of the trip.

160km in six days
I’d done it – 160km in six days from Morar to Morar. It was a trip that lived up to all my expectations and will stay with me for some time.

With little time to rest, it was time to head over to Glenmore Lodge for the Open Canoe Symposium. Thankfully, I had a day to recover!