THANKS TO:

NRS and Freebird Paddles.
Ray Goodwin’s website:
www.RayGoodwin.com
YouTube Channel:
www.youtube.com/c/
RayGoodwinCanoe

Ray has paddled and guided the Great Glen many times

On one notable occasion, he and Chris Charlton paddled it in a single day of 16 hours. The next day they paddled the River Spey from Loch Insh to the sea in 11.5 hours. Ray reckons he started aching two days later.  The Great Glen crossing is not to be underestimated, with two massive bodies of water. Loch Ness has a lifeboat station on it, and there is a reason for that. It is easy to be stormbound in bad weather, and the southeastern shore of Loch Ness is not a friendly place.  The canal website is: www.scottishcanals.co.uk/canals/caledonian-canal/. 

Ray Goodwin’s canoeing the Great Glen
Dad, daughter and dog

Yet again, I was checking the weather for Scotland. The forecast was for the wind to stay in the west. The conditions for a Great Glen trip were good. An opportunity to be seized.  “Maya, there is a good forecast for the Great Glen. Do you fancy it?”

My twelve-year-old daughter responded, “Sure.” A little terse, but it was positive. We had failed, pre-covid, in bad weather now for the return match. Lina was due to work, so it was just Maya, Billie dog and I heading for Scotland.

On the Tuesday, we drove to stay with friends close to Fort William, and the forecast was holding.

Wednesday and an early start, food shopping in Fort William, book in at the canal office in Corpach and then up to the top of Neptune’s Staircase, a flight of eight locks. It is the longest staircase lock in Britain. On our previous attempt Maya and friends had walked up from the sea to the top of the staircase, but to speed things up, we drove. The carry from the car to the specially designed, paddler-friendly, floating jetty was quick and easy. Food and kit were sorted and packed. We were ready to go before midday. Lunch would be in the canoe.

Maya was soon involving me in conversations about Minecraft and Sims. You can take the girl away from the computer games, but… I dutifully made noises at all the right places (apparently). In fairness, we had multiple other conversations as wide-ranging as history, environment, and school. Billie began to settle to his relegated place behind the bow seat. He is far too used to me being solo and having the bow to himself.

With a tailwind, we quickly put up our small sail (boats are not supposed to sail on the canal sections, but I was hoping our little one would not count against us. I certainly would not be rafting up canoes and putting up an A-frame. The assistance was welcome, even if a little fluky. Quickly a problem manifested itself. The boom/gaff protruded out in front of the sail and was fitted for me as a solo paddler. As it swung violently in a gybe, the end of the pole was bashing into Maya’s neck. She soon had a hate-hate relationship with the sail and took to berating it. I would try to give warning as the sail swung across, but it wasn’t always quick enough. Mind, I was happy for the sail to take the blame rather than my fitting or use.

onto Loch Lochy

Ten kilometres and two hours later, we reached the locks at Gairlochy. An awkward climb out up a grass bank on the right (maybe I should have used the landing way back on the left). The canoe went on the trolley, and we soon walked through to a launch spot. We could have camped, with toilets and showers on the canal side, but the wind was going our way. I was keen to get onto Loch Lochy, which suited my idea of taking opportunities rather than arbitrarily dividing the journey. Maya understood, and we were soon off again.

As part of the canal scheme, the height of Loch Lochy had been raised by some 3.7 metres, and the River Lochy diverted to allow room for the canal.

Soon we were clear of shelter, and the wind started speeding us along. With the gusts, the sail was gybing from side to side forcing me to swap paddle sides quickly. It was as strong a wind as I was happy with being a lone boat with Maya and Billie on board. I couldn’t stick to the shore as we had to cut across the large bay at Bunarkaig. Surfing down waves, I was very aware of my precious cargo up front. Trust me, as she does, even Maya thought it a bit impressive. Once committed to the crossing, it had to be done well, and the gusting wind put us under pressure.

Once past Clunes, the shore ran reasonably straight. I decided to head to Glas Dhoire and its wild campsite and composting toilets (almost civilised). We ran past a group of four canoeists camped on a gravel beach. A voice bellowed across the water, “Hello, Ray.” It was Kevin, who was going to be on a wilderness trip in Canada, with me, in a few weeks. He had seen us barrelling down the loch and had commented that the person out there was either mad or knew what he was doing. He never clarified which he had decided on.

We sailed on within a short distance of the shore and were soon at the campsite. No one else was there, and we had our pick of spots. Once set up, Maya took the GoPro and wandered into the woods with Billie. As she later said a magical place. We didn’t stay up long and took to the tent, Billie on his blanket and me reading to Maya (that takes me back to when she was much younger). She was soon asleep, and I rolled over to read my book. There is something so satisfying about a good tent, a snug sleeping bag and a day well spent.

Day two dawned, and we soon finished off Lochy. Then into the first portage of the day around Laggan Locks. Then the canal goes through the only cutting of the trip, it’s deep, and the canal path has vanished under tall pines. For a time, you can imagine yourself in Canada. 

The Caledonian Canal

Various schemes had been mooted to create a canal utilising the Great Glen and its lochs to cross Scotland. It would benefit the fishing fleets, and during the Napoleonic wars, it would provide a safer route for small British warships. In the end, the poverty of the Highland was the final impetus as a way of injecting jobs and money into the area. 

My favourite engineer and hero, Thomas Telford, took on the project in 1804 while still involved in other projects the length and breadth of Britain. Telford’s colleague William Jessop was also involved. Some of the ironwork was cast in a foundry near the site of Jessop and Telford’s Pontcysyllte Aqueduct in Wales.  

The job creation wasn’t that successful, with highlanders more used to a subsistence lifestyle and heading off at various times to plant, tend and harvest crops, and look after livestock. To much criticism, Telford went back to relying on his usual gangs of skilled Irish Navvies, although continuing to hire highlanders. 

The canal finally opened in 1822, twelve years late and massively over budget (things haven’t changed). 

Loch Oich

Then onto Loch Oich. The prettiest and smallest of the three main lochs. Its level had been raised, and a deeper channel dredged and cut to allow bigger boats – the channel marked by green and red buoyage. We can paddle easily outside the channel, avoiding any bigger boats. Sailing was still good and, thankfully, not as wild as the day before.

We passed the remains of Invergarry Castle. It was burnt down in 1746, some days after the Battle of Culloden and the ruin of the Jacobite cause. There is plenty to see on Oich, with a couple of crannogs and the mouth of the River Garry. Also, the Well of the Seven Heads is a typical story of a Highland feud and massacre.

Then past the River Oich. It has one awkward rapid on a bend and another problem or two. I didn’t fancy it with no other canoe as support, so we stuck to the canal. We had two more portages around Cullochy and Kytra locks. At Kytra, when Maya was only two, I got a wonderful picture of me (below) shouldering a canoe whilst she led me along with the painter It was my way of controlling Maya and not letting her wander over to the locks’ big drops and deep water. But she was so proud and positively marched along towing me.

Fort Augustus

The canal is fringed with a whole section of lagoons, a way of storing water for the next flight of locks at Fort Augustus. By now, we had a well-organised system for loading the canoe. Maya played a full part, and Billie was well-behaved as ever.

Fort August was crowded with tourists that had been disgorged onto the streets and canal side.

We got our share of looks as we trolleyed the canoe down the street, across the main road and back onto the canal. I left Maya and set off to do a bit of foraging in the shops. I returned with ice cream, which was expected, and some Kinder chocolate which earned me a bonus. A wary eye was kept on the swans as one had tried to bite Maya when she was two.

Loch Ness

A short paddle took us onto the southeastern shore of Loch Ness, and we found a cosy little camp spot tucked into the trees. Another day of contrasts and making full use of the wind.

Morning dawned to a mirror calm – the only ripples on Ness caused by Billie Boy Bonkers as he ran into bark and splash, and Maya even obliged him by throwing a stick or two. The view down Ness was stunning as the distant water merged into the sky.

Soon we were loaded and underway. We could see to the far end, some 37 kilometres away, and it appeared to be a giant infinity pool. With the condition good and forecast to stay that way, I decided to stick to the southeast shore. In poor conditions, I feel far safer on the opposite shore with reasonable exits and access to the main road. Landing on our shore is not always easy, and exiting up the high and steep hillside would be practically impossible.

We plodded away, with Maya paddling part of the time and at others just pondering and chatting. It is a long paddle, and I just wanted her to enjoy it and not make it an endurance challenge. She could paddle as she wished and when I needed it. Pushing along a laden canoe with Maya and Billie as passengers begin to wear, but for the most part, I could close my mind to it and paddle away.

Maya gave me a lengthy monologue on the absence of waves and the Loch Ness monster and concluded that Nessie must be away on her holidays.

We landed a couple of times for a leg stretch. Twice more so Maya could explore. One colossal boulder had a small treelet growing out of a crack. In mock seriousness, we discussed taking the boulder with us and who would put it in the canoe.

There was a gentle wind, so the sail went back up, taking some pressure off me. By sticking to the southeastern shore, we missed the Urquhart Castle. Soon after, I decided to cross to the northwest shore and follow that to the end.

Some ten hours after setting out, we paddled through the narrows between Ness and Loch Dochfour. Maya had done brilliantly. The aim was to camp at Dochgarroch Lock, but as we rounded the corner, a canoe with three aboard was heading our way. It was Russel, someone I had known for years and his twins Alice and Max. I followed their adventures, on Facebook, with some admiration. They were heading off to bivi on Ness. Russel thought for a moment before suggesting a camp along the way. It was nice to catch up and have kids Maya’s age for her to play and chat with.

A great spot, and the morning saw Maya and Alice out on a blueberry hunt. They returned with tongues and hands stained with juice, obviously a success. Loaded up, we paddled on. We soon passed the weir where the River Ness leaves the canal at Dochgarroch lock. Max and Alice volunteered to help Maya and me on our last portage. Boat back on the water, we said our goodbyes and got underway for the last time. Now the final stretch.

facilities key

We had paid for a facilities key from the canal office at Corpach. Payment is per person, not per-key, although they took one look at Maya and only charged me for one.   Please don’t abuse this and pay for one when you are in a group. The facilities are good and have to be financed. Few places go out of the way to welcome us as paddlers. 

Colin Skeath

My friend, Colin Skeath, had offered to pick us up and do the shuttle, so it was a case of sorting a meeting spot. Only a kilometre from the final canal basin, Colin phoned to say he was struggling to find a get-out and parking. We agreed that the car park at the main road bridges was our best bet. We turned and paddled back a kilometre or so. A bridge was open in our honour (or maybe because of the waiting yachts). A final unload, high fives and a paddle tap, and it was over. An opportunity was seized, and another dad and daughter (and Billie) adventure were done. The summer felt better.

Postscript

We drove back to Wales that night. Twenty minutes from home, I was stopped by the police; it was 23:20 hours. I had been ‘weaving’ a little. Maya was fascinated, and I felt smug as I was breathalysed (no alcohol in a week). Thank goodness she didn’t start chanting, ‘Lock him up, lock him up.’ Soon we were on our way again with no further mention of weaving. Mind I had managed to explain the difference between a canoe and kayak to the two coppers,
I didn’t charge them for the coaching.