By Angela Ward
and Adam Evans

Photos: Adam Evans
and Angela Ward

Loch Morar to Loch Nevis

FRIDAY: Our journey began on a cool overcast day on a short slipway into Loch Morar. We’d been here before in September 2017, at the start of a sanity-questioning slog across the watershed into the Arkaig system. This time our plans were for a shorter portage from the fresh water of Loch Morar to the sea water of Loch Nevis.

The magnificent Knoydart wilderness

Perhaps a less physical challenge than mountaineering with a canoe although it would present issues such as tide heights, tidal races, wind and the remoteness factor of having no mobile phone coverage.

We were waved off by the wonderful owners of Heatherlea B&B who had kindly provided us with a shuttle service and who still recount tales of our previous ‘Morar Madness’ adventure to their other guests.

Whilst we were preparing to get on the water, the Lake Superintendent called by to check our plans and pointed us to a place where we could see White-Tailed Eagles nesting.
The weather forecast was as predicted and we set off into F3 headwinds. In my early days of paddling, such conditions would have slowed me down. Continued practice over the years has allowed me to sit back and cruise along in all but the harshest open water environments. Paddling is important to me in so many ways as it gives me a profound connection to nature, space and rugged escapism. On-going chronic respiratory problems have meant that some of our more recent trips have been less extreme although I was grateful that recent endoscopic sinus had made a significant difference to my ‘paddleability’.

Simply being surrounded by the magnificence of Loch Morar was a different experience to last time. That was about travelling fast and light and making distance so we could immediately start our brutal portage over to Loch Arkaig. Now, we could savour each paddle stroke especially as I was christening a new addition to my collection. My new black walnut Swallow, handcrafted for me by Bill Todd at Freebird Paddles, sliced effortlessly through the inky waters.

Paddling along Loch Morar was a different experience to our last time there in 2017. Then, we got to the end of the loch and immediately began our land-portage over to Loch Arkaig. This time was a more leisurely affair because our only agenda was to near the end of the loch before darkness fell. As we picked our way between the islands, grey pillows of smoke raced across the hillside from controlled heather burns on the northern shore.
bacteria-free fresh water

With no rush to press on and make distance, a shingle shoreline drew us in for a snack-break. It was a great opportunity for Adam to test out one of his new toys, an expedition water filter. Within minutes and with minimum effort, we had several litres of virus and bacteria-free fresh water with which we could quickly rustle up some piping hot drinks.

After being well-fed and watered, we continued with our leisurely voyage. Taking our time was good but even better was making easier progress with wind-assistance. In true Scottish fashion, the weather had done a 180-degree about-turn and the F2 tailwinds gently guided us towards our destination. Spritsails out, we only stopped to investigate the start of our portage into Loch Nevis. A recce on what to expect is a luxury to which we aren’t usually accustomed.

As we approached the end of the loch, we could just make out Oban Bothy on the south shore. We’d hoped to have the place to ourselves but unfortunately we weren’t that lucky because as we got nearer, we spotted a group of young lads wandering towards the bothy.
A few 100 metres away on the opposite shore, there was perfectly smooth grassy land upon which to pitch. With a calm midge-free forecast and a landscape, which would inspire painters and poets, it made sense to tarp out for the night. Two parallel boats with paddles framing the tarp entrance made a great place from which to view our green and blue rugged world.

After a sumptuous evening meal of medium-rare rib-eye steak and fried potatoes, followed by Cartmel Sticky Toffee Pudding and Devon custard, we could sip Glayva and enjoy watching the sun go down on a beautiful late summer evening.

As the sun lowered and the shadows grew longer, the water turned silvery black and we were reminded that our most brilliant days aren’t always the ones wrapped in luxury and sheen. They are often the days when we toil a little, accomplish a lot and yet savour the perfect moments of simply being.

SATURDAY

After being lulled to sleep by the sound of waves gently lapping against the shore, we awoke to a misty morning and calm clear waters. One joy of canoeing is the opportunity to take along a few creature comforts and luxury items. What some people may perceive as a luxury is in fact part of the staple diet of an expedition paddler, namely thick fluffy pancakes with maple syrup, washed down with freshly brewed stove-top coffee.

Having an outdoor breakfast whilst surveying our spectacular surroundings and formulating our plans is certainly a great start to the day. The original plan was to enjoy some mountain time on foot, leaving the canoes behind and wandering around the magnificent Knoydart wilderness. With the weather hinting at a big impending drama to come over the next few days, the risk of being pinned in this remote Scottish loch needed to be considered. The absence of a phone signal meant that we decided to curtail the walk for another time. The mountains weren’t going anywhere but nothing could stop the weather coming to us. We did wonder how many times the wind direction could spin round through 180 degrees in the space of 24 hours!

The last time we passed through here, Oban Bothy was closed because it was deer-stalking season so now while we were in the vicinity, it made sense to go and explore. We’d seen the temporary residents head off into the distance, so whilst they were out, we quietly paddled over to have a gander. We could see their stash of grog cooling at the water’s edge and inside, the bothy was well-kept, clean and tidy. We stayed just long enough to meet and greet the young lads, who returned with armfuls of freshly sawn wood and declared proudly that they planned to have a, “Massive bonfire.” I’m all for a bit of fire-craft but it’s so important to consider sustainability and environmental impact. It’s a lack of such awareness which had led to a loss of many paddle spots in Scotland recently.

After our bothy recce, we headed upwind again in order to access the Tarbet jetty. Once our boats and kit were loaded onto the trollies, we decide to prepare for the ‘up and over’ by eating and drinking before our steep cobbled portage. And it certainly was steep! Several times it took a combined effort to get the trolley wheels over the axle-snapping cobbles and troughs. Thankfully, serious amounts of gym training paid off, giving me excellent lung function and mega girl-power so we slowly made our way up and over the two-km portage. The one-km uphill section was hard-going with a rough stony track, punctuated with large potholes. The one-km downhill section wasn’t much better,  although the assistance of gravity made it slightly easier.

Once we reached the jetty onto Loch Nevis, our legs wobbly from grunting and pushing, we saw the tide was coming in fast. We launched quickly onto the salty Scottish waters and immediately noticed the viscosity of the water in comparison to fresh water. Sea paddling feels like a combination of gentle river running and being on open water. The canoes feel more buoyant although the water is thicker, much like paddling through salty green treacle.

As we reached the Narrows on Loch Nevis, the tide becomes squeezed together by the coastal edges and spits you out at quite a rate. That’s why it’s so important to plan your journey around the wind and the tide or you’ll simply fight a losing battle. It pays to remember that Mother Nature is bigger and stronger than all of us. As we passed through the Narrows, I gathered that we must have been going at a pretty fast rate when some bystanders nearby shouted at me to, “Slow down or I’d be done for speeding!”
Tucked in and tiny in the corner distance, Sourlies Bothy came into view, and so did its small group of temporary residents. We gently ease towards the bemused onlookers and as the water became too shallow to paddle, we took the opportunity to stand tall with our big sticks and pole our way through the shallow salty water in search of a perfect place to pitch Terje for the evening.

After pitching at what we thought was high tide, we watched the water creep ominously over the pristine grass towards the tent. We breathed a sigh of relief as the tide receded only to watch the water start to edge even closer still and envelope the tent pegs. In order to monitor the situation more carefully, we strategically marked the water levels using very expensive and technical small pebbles. We watched the gentle ebbing and flowing for what felt like a very long time. Once we were confident the tide was definitely receding, we sat outside and surveyed the late summer sun disappearing over the horizon.
Tranquil, almost ethereal waters greeted us in the morning as planned, the tide had crept up on us in the early hours. We had timed our breakfast and de-camp to coincide with high tide, ensuring that we only had to tip the canoes back into the water rather than drag them over the flats of sand.

As the neighbours at the bothy waved us goodbye, our bows cut through the mirrored water below as we stealthily made our way whilst being enshrouded by the Scottish morning mists.

Creeping along the north edge of the loch, passing small islands which emerged from beneath the water, we decided to stop off for lunch and do some seal-spotting. From our small rocky outcrop, we soon noticed beady black eyes intermittently peering at us. We watched them. They watched us. We ate our food. They watched us even more intently. We took photos and they were happy to pose. I’m fairly sure that we were in their human Safari!

a ‘snorty-cough’

Paddling away from our snack-spot, Adam and I looked at each other quizzically upon hearing what can only be described as a ‘snorty-cough’. There was initially no visible source of this weird noise but then suddenly the massive head of a large grey bull seal appeared just a few metres from my stern.

Within a very short space of time, the wind had picked up slightly and was just in our favour, so our ‘seal spotting’ came to an end. We quickly set up our sailing rigs and made good speed towards Inverie. Effortlessly cruising towards civilisation and aided by the tidal flow, Inverie soon appeared on the horizon. On the approach, we could just make out The Old Forge in the distance and could almost taste the Guinness.  Paddling is obviously very thirsty work and we didn’t want to become dehydrated so we pressed on.

Our neighbours from Sourlies Bothy were also en-route to Inverie, except on foot. I’m not sure how long their journey would be but assuredly we arrived there before them. My reason for wanting to visit Inverie was simple. It is the location of the most remote pub on mainland Great Britain, only by sea or a very long walk.

welcoming committee

As we drew closer to the mainland, a small crowd were assembling in the beer garden. I doubted that they were an official welcoming committee but they now had the added bonus of watching us land on the rocky beach and nonchalantly make straight for the pub. To be honest, I think we should charge to be a mobile tourist attraction!

Making my way to the bar whilst looking resplendent in my Dam-X paddlesuit, I located JP.  I’d told him we’d turn up at some point during April and we had. I’m not one to break a promise, particularly if it involves drinking Guinness and the opportunity to use a ‘porcelain throne’. During our chat, he kindly offered us a place to moor our boats. I’m not sure if he appreciated that we were paddling canoes with sails rather than yachts which need mooring.

I didn’t much fancy the idea of mooring in a harbour and then swimming ashore so instead we decided to try and locate a wild camping spot at Rubha Raounuill. As we skirted our way round the coastline in search of suitable places to pitch up, it became obvious that there weren’t any.

The tide was now going out and we didn’t relish the prospect of dragging our boats and kit across several hundred metres of seaweed-strewn sea bed in order to reach dry land. The other option was to haul our boats and kit several metres vertically and try to pitch a tarp on a steep section of grassy-covered rock. We weren’t exactly inspired by doing this either and so decided to head back towards Inverie. Another pint of Guinness whilst checking the weather forecast and coming up with alternative plans, seemed incredibly sensible. Adapt, improvise and overcome as they say!

We turned around and made our way back along the coastline and now both the wind and the tide were favourable so we made good progress. As we got past Inverie, the water levels were so low that it gave us the opportunity to stand tall with our big sticks and with the tide pushing us gently along, we soon reached the gently sloping sandy shores of Long Beach.

This low-key Ranger-managed campsite offers one of the best views in Scotland. Facilities include a state-of-the-art Natsol compost toilet, a fresh drinking water supply, a turf-roofed log cabin shelter (complete with a selection of camping kit e.g sleeping mats/bags which are there for people to borrow), a dry stone communal BBQ and several fire pits. Bundles of firewood are available to buy for use in the firepits. This firewood is purchased from the Knoydart Forest Trust.

At the time of writing this article, campsite fees are just £5 for the first person in a tent and £4 for each person thereafter. There is no need to book in advance. You can either pop into the Foundation Shop (on the main street in Inverie) to pay, or alternatively pay the Ranger in the morning. There is also an honesty box located at the entrance to the log cabin.
Long Beach offers the benefits of wild camping with the luxury of running water and an indoor toilet. Not quite a porcelain throne but definitely more eco-friendly and in keeping with the surroundings.

After pitching Terje within a few metres of the sandy beach, it was time to head back to The Old Forge for an evening of warmth, hospitality and Guinness . With no roads in or out, an 18 mile hike over Munros or a seven-mile sea crossing from Mallaig are the usual way to reach the most remote pub on mainland Great Britain. It started off as a smithy’s forge and then was used as a worker’s social club. Later it became a pub offering excellent local fish and game, real ales and live music. It has all the benefits of being remote but having modern amenities and we made tactical use of their wifi to check the weather forecast for the coming days.

This year is the Knoydart Foundation’s 20th birthday. In recent history, Knoydart was neglected and its community lived with uncertainty due to a series of absentee land owners. As a result, members of the Knoydart Community set up a charitable organisation: ‘The Knoydart Foundation’ (KFT) and after extensive fundraising, were able to buy out around 17,000 acres of the Knoydart Peninsula in 1999. Since then, the foundation has repaired and completed works to improve the efficiency of their community-owned hydropower scheme, which provides green power to 70 households, businesses and workshops in and around Inverie.

They have renovated antiquated water supplies, sewage systems and housing, and have built six properties which provide affordable rental homes for community members. The foundation established a ranger service, which includes Long Beach Campsite, Knoydart carbon cycle hire, public and private guided walks and land rover tours, and volunteering opportunities for residents, visitors, schools and scout groups. They set up deer management procedures to meet with legal requirements, to promote the health of the herd, reforestation of Knoydart and to restore balance to the ecosystem. In addition, they have developed a bunkhouse and a shop to generate much needed income to reinvest in land management activities.

Knoydart Forest Trust

The community also set up the Knoydart Forest Trust, a charity to manage the communities’ woodlands. KFT has been so successful that they also work with private land owners to manage their woodlands on the peninsula. KFT is delivering a woodland management plan which focusses on the removal of the monoculture plantation, which was traditionally used to generate income and are replanting mixed native species in order to restore the landscape, facilitate small scale local timber processing and use, promote biodiversity and amenity. They also process and sell firewood and timber and have a subsidiary company, Wood Knoydart, who deliver woodworking courses and produce wood products which are sold across the peninsula and the mainland.

fantastic opportunities

Knoydart is arguably one of the most beautiful places in the UK. You can expect regular wildlife sightings with a healthy residential population of Golden Eagles, Sea Eagles, Buzzards and Peregrine Falcons. Inverie village is home to many Pine Marten and Badgers and Inverie Bay has a prolific population of otters; there is a newly constructed otter hide at the end of Long Beach for visitors to enjoy. Knoydart boasts fantastic hiking, paddling, cycling and horse trekking opportunities. There are three local Munro, two purpose-built mountain bike tracks in Inverie village, nine miles of tarmac road, and 17,000 acres of open hill to explore.

After a night of restful sleep, we awoke to finalise our plans. We had contemplated spending an extra night in Inverie but we knew today gave us the only realistic opportunity to get back in our boats and head to Mallaig, We’d awoken to sunny skies and a gentle breeze but heavy winds and biblical rain were predicted. There is a ferry service from Inverie to Mallaig which could have transported us and our boats but where’s the fun in that when you have paddle and sail power?

High tide was in, the kit was packed so with a perfect off-shore F3 breeze, we hoisted our sails and set off from our beachside launch point. What started off as a gentle breeze became progressively less gentle.

Reaching the more exposed section of the loch, the wind speed picked up and we very quickly sped along, propelled by F4- 5 crosswinds. Suffice it to say that the crossing from Long Beach to Sgeir a’ Ghaill was quite possibly the most challenging 45 minutes in any of my paddling adventures.

unrelenting

There were a couple of occasions where I shouted across to Adam that, “I don’t like this and I’m not enjoying it,” but there was obviously nothing to be done except to just get on with it. I used my WW Big Dipper to steer and this worked extremely well because it has such a large blade. My strength training at the gym came in very useful as the forces generated on your body are not to be underestimated when you’re controlling a fully-laden 15-foot long exped boat on exposed open water. With the roar of the wind in our ears and on the sides of our faces, the pressure on our arms was unrelenting.

Nearing the sheltered stretch of coastline at Eilean Giubhais, the wind began to ease and there was the opportunity to take down our sails and head ashore for a well-earned breather before making our way towards Mallaig. As I’d been in front and sailing at my best, Adam had followed on behind. I hadn’t been aware that the swell was big enough to obscure him seeing me in my canoe between troughs in the waves.

Blue skies

It felt safe again to be in a more sheltered location near the rocky shore. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and once we had a little tailwind, we put up our sails again and continued our journey skirting the craggy coastline.

Ahead of us around the corner was the entrance to Mallaig harbour, from which we could see ferries emerging away from the mainland on their journeys to the Scottish islands. Playing chicken with ferries was not on our to-do list and we simply wanted to turn into shelter for a rest. We dropped our sails and ventured cautiously towards the harbour mouth.  It became clear that the wind was being funnelled between the high walls of the harbour, creating a patch of water approximately 300m long which had F5-6 winds blasting headlong into it. At that point we had two options, get out before the harbour and either wait and portage or suck it up and paddle as hard and tactically as we could into the vortex. As the forecast had indicated that the weather would get worse as the day progressed, there was only one realistic option. Press on.

The going was painfully slow, barely making a foot in distance with each stroke. Once all the tactics and techniques had been maximised, it came down to a matter of power and size. No matter how good you are, in those conditions, a good big one beats a good little one. Conclusive proof that size really does matter!

We decided to raft together in order to make safer, quicker and more reliable progress. Being dwarfed by much larger vessels made us realise how small how our boats are in comparison to the ferries.

Battling through, we eased into calmer waters. Sweating, aching and tired, we un-rafted and carried on solo paddling with relative ease.

Weaving between ships, we saw cheeky seals begging for scraps from the sterns of fishing boats. As we reached terra firma, we felt safe at last. With a final lugging of boats and kit up the steep stone steps, I headed off, still wearing my paddle kit, in search of fish and chips.

We’d done in four days what we had factored would take six days. That was down to weather and tides. Marrying those two changing variables had been an educated gamble which had thankfully paid off. A very satisfying conclusion to yet another awesome adventure!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Heatherlea B&B. Heatherlea, Mallaig PH41 4RH
www.heatherleabedandbreakfast.co.uk

Thank you to Ranger Amie for her contribution about the Knoydart Foundation. It’s very important to acknowledge and appreciate the hard work which goes into protecting our wild places. www.knoydart-foundation.com

Thank you also to JP from The Old Forge at Inverie for his excellent hospitality, in particular the Guinness. www.theoldforge.co.uk

As always, I’d like to acknowledge Bill Todd from Freebird Paddles. He makes wonderful paddles for me and it’s such a pleasure to take them on our adventures. www.freebirdpaddles.co.uk