By Ray Goodwin
Photos:Ray Goodwin and Colin Skeath I have paddled around Mull some five times in a sea kayak and have spent time on other trips exploring the western coast and islands. It was time for a bit of a challenge. I knew it could be a great trip in canoe but it would so depend on getting good conditions. I broached the idea with Colin Skeath and the idea excited him even though he had paddled around Britain in a canoe the previous year. It was now sorting the rules of engagement: solo, sails were ok but no rudders or leeboards. We would keep everything simple. Then it would be down to the weather, if we had a poor forecast I wouldn’t even bother to drive to Scotland.

On February 13th, Ray was awarded the MBE for his services to canoeing, at Buckingham Palace. Here’s Ray pictured in his finest with family, Maya and Lina.

Ray Goodwin MBE

Ray Goodwin’s by canoe around… Mull

Day 1

Colin: “We arrived at Kilchoan, a tiny village spread out along the coastal shores and just along from my home. It is the crossroads of Loch Sunart, the open sea and the Sound of Mull. In good mood we loaded our boats in the sunshine and checked we had everything. Ray’s good in this respect if you’ve forgotten anything, he’s probably got a spare somewhere in his car!”

There was a family launching from the same slip and heading out for an hour or so exploring the coast. We chatted about canoes and what Colin and I were up as well as their adventures. I even managed to sell them a copy of my book: you just got to try.

The crossing to Mull was only a couple of kilometres and the wind was so low that the yachts were only passing us slowly. Soon we were paddling along the north coast of Mull and with a few cliffs and rocky islands it began to give us a taste of what was in store. We kept checking our progress and mulled over the idea of crossing to the Treshnish Islands that evening but the tides were not going to work. Some three kilometres short of Caliach Point, we pulled in to a nice sandy beach and a great little spot.

Our location looked north to Rhum and Skye and west to Coll. With a meal consumed it was time to chill out and enjoy the moment. A spectacular sunset bathed the area in an orange glow bringing out the amber in the Ledaig whisky. Having a bottle of the local malt has been part of the tradition through all my years of sea kayak guiding, it was a fitting end to the day.

Day 2

Up early and on the way, time and tide wait for no one. Passing Caliach, we did the first big turn of the trip and started to head south. We sighted a pod of dolphins for the second time on the trip but now they passed close enough for a good view. Like us they were heading south but moving far more efficiently and were soon lost to sight.

From the next headland we started our paddle out to the Treshnish Islands a few kilometres off our route but a must for the pair of us. The sea had a nice little chop on it but nothing to slow or concern us and soon we were passing the twin islands of Cairn na Burgh Beg and More, both worthy of exploration but not today. Past Fladda: I had camped here once and been kept awake for many hours by a corncrake. If you have ever been kept awake by its persistent and rasping call, you will understand why it is an endangered species.

Arctic terns were filling the air with their calls as they filled the air around the other rocks and skerries as we threaded our way through to Lunga. We were sharing the landing with a whole series of tourist boats as this is one of the spectacular bird experiences in the British Isles. Canoes lifted high above the potential tide and tied into place we set off for a wander. A quick detour to show Colin the ‘secret’ well for future use, although in reality it is just a small seepage allowed to pool between a few rocks and capped by a small flat stone.

We climbed up onto the first terrace and although we were sharing it with tens of other folk, it still felt an intimate experience. Puffins with bills full of sand eels were coming into land just a couple of metres from where we stood. Quickly scurrying along they disappeared underground into their burrows. Some recent research seemed to indicate that the puffins came in more frequently when there were people about. Apparently the larger predatory birds were put off by people so the puffins had an easier run.

Onward along a narrow path, past cormorants and a few other birds, we ended up over looking a sea stack separated from the island by a narrow cleft. A cacophony of razorbills and guillemots coated every available space. Eventually we had had our fill, photographs had been taken and we wandered back to the canoe. Originally we had planned to camp on the island but conditions were too good with the wind dying completely. We needed to take advantage of conditions and the gem of Staffa beckoned in the distance.

Colin: “Paddling in solo canoes allows time to be alone in a beautiful place, with your own thoughts.  But having a friend paddling nearby provides a perfect balance. It was nice to share conversation.  Ray had an intimate knowledge of Mull from its history to geology and was full of entertaining stories from years of expeditioning.”

The sea took on an oily calm and we plodded along with Staffa slowly getting bigger until we could at last make out its massive basalt columns. More yachts and boats were lying off its south east corner. We paddled past the mighty Fingal’s cave and then had to make a decision. Landing and a camp beckoned but the forecast was now showing a wind increasing from the north. We could easily get stuck on Staffa in a big blow. It was onwards to the Ross of Mull as the wind started. Soon we could get the sails up and have a bit of ‘free travel’.

Colin: “This was my first time out with an Endless River sail.  Perfect for the expedition canoeist, no rudder or leeboard needed, just a paddle, canoe pole and a bit of “down” wind… they are guaranteed to bring a smile and relief to tired arms.  The low height of the sail meant for a stable ride even in some fairly strong gusts later in the trip!”

Picking a spot on the Ross wasn’t easy as most landings were rocky and possible sites were in too close a proximity to houses. Eventually we slipped into a small bay and an opportunity presented itself. We were tucked out of sight and there was plenty of flat grass. Another wonderful sunset and a wee dram finished a perfect day.

Day 3

Wind was now forecast as Northerly 4 with occasional gusts above that. Running south through the Sound of Iona was a delight. The grey squat bulk of the abbey clearly visible on the Island of Iona. On our side of the sound we wove our way past more skerries and islands and took the passage thought the granite domes of Tinker’s Hole: a favourite anchorage for yachts. Soon we took our second turn of the trip onto the south coast of Mull. The north wind had enough west in it for us to continue sailing. With the shore close by the sea was easy and progress was easy and great fun. The granite continued with numerous small cliffs, islands and wonderfully isolated sandy beaches. But not for today we were making too good a progress.

At Rubh Ardalanish the coast headed back north for two kilometres. I was wondering whether to be cautious, drop sail and head directly to windward to get into the back of the bay. Colin was feeling bold. A short debate and we decided to cut across. The wind would have more fetch and so seas would be bigger and a careful eye would be needed to make sure we were not being blown further out to sea. Winds were now a steady four with gust of five. Our boats came alive and surfed eastwards. Yep it was working and we were heading nicely past the next headland. Soon the wind eased slightly and we took the opportunity to raft up with my bow at Colin’s mid-thwart. A chance to chat and for me to ease my legs.

Colin: “I could see that Ray was uncomfortable in his canoe. Kneeling is great but after a few hours of paddling without a break it becomes painful and it is nice to sit on a seat and stretch the legs. Ray didn’t have this option, but he didn’t complain!”

Past the granite and back to a massive hillside of volcanic deposits, ash, lava beds and occasionally basalt columns. Past the Carsaig Arches but with no desire to stop the wild ride. At Malcolm’s point there was a small amount of tide running against us and so the sea humped up steeper and higher. We were separate again and surging forwards in the occasional surf. And in the midst of this all was a lobster boat putting down its creels it lone fisherman oblivious to us.

Onwards still as the wind died and we needed to paddle more until at last we pulled the sails down. We plodded on to the small bay of Port Donain just short of the entrance to the Sound of Mull. My boat grounded on the sandy beach but my legs needed some convincing before they would work again. This was the big day. We had managed 58 kilometres of which 50 were under sail. We were busted. Colin had a hidden treat and we dined on haggis and taties all finished off with yet another dram of Ladaig. North of us lighthouses blinked out their steady beams. A mighty day.

Day 4

The wind had died and we needed to pick up the tide heading up the Sound of Mull. Duart Point passed along with its castle. Progress now felt like a plod and when the tide turned we pulled ashore at Garmony Point. The sun was out and it felt good to soak up the heat, snack and doze.

By the time the tide had turned north again, the canoes were well and truly aground and a distance from the water. We dragged our boats down to a small stream and waded along until there was enough depth to paddle. The sound does a big turn and we cut across to shorten the distance. A slightly worn and battered yacht passed close by with a cheery wave from its occupant. It got slightly ahead of us and then turned 180 degrees and headed back.

The fella was concerned about us being out in the middle of the sound and wanted to caution us (in the friendliest manner possible). We chatted away and I explained I had written the book on canoe (no I didn’t have a copy to sell him) and Colin had paddled around Britain the year before. He was satisfied with that. It was our turn to question and he informed us that he was retired and spent three months of the year sailing the west coast. He resumed his journey and we were left to ourselves again.

Finish

We were getting little assistance from the tide and so we decided to camp one more time. A southerly wind was forecast for the morning. It would give us a more fitting finish if we sailed the rest of the way home. Eventually we found a landing on the mainland shore.

Colin: “The campsite consisted patches of salt grass between pools of smelly stagnant water. All around there were patches of rotting seaweed and shellfish. The whole place stunk. To make matters worse It was my turn to cook and I couldn’t get the stove to work properly… It was near midnight and Ray was very tolerant of my incompetence. This, I suspect, was in part due to the Whisky he was drinking and the feeling you get when ‘all’s good’ on a journey.”

Morning dawned and the south wind was there. Sails up and we soon barrelling our way northwards. Yet again surging waves as the boats surged forwards. Tobermory was pasted and soon our last spot on Mull, the lighthouse at Rubha nan Gall. The wind was dropping as we did the six-kilometre crossing to Kilchoan. Each of us was deep in our thoughts as we headed in.

Colin: “I paddled ahead of Ray to film him landing at Kilchoan Jetty. A big otter splashed at the side of my boat, the sun shone and Ben Hiant provided the perfect backdrop for. Mull lay behind us and I was content.”

Four and a half days, 160 km paddled and sailed. We both had VHF radios and a compliment of flares. In addition Colin had a Spot Messenger as a Personal Location Beacon for dire emergency.

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