By Sarah Webster

The Small Isles are a small archipelago of islands in the Inner Hebrides, off the west coast of Scotland. They lie south of Skye and north of Mull and Ardnamurchan – the most westerly point of mainland Scotland. The islands form part of the Lochaber area of the Highland council area.

Exploring the Small Isles of Eigg, Rum and Muck

The Inner Hebrides are an archipelago of islands and skerries lying close to the Atlantic coast of Scotland. I was lucky enough to make an expedition there in May 2021 with 16 other paddlers, ably led by Shaun Rodgers of Sea Kayaking Cornwall, with Pete McInally the solid presence bringing up the rear. The starting point was Glenuig, on the Scottish mainland.

We met for a meal and a briefing at Glenuig Inn, one of Scotland’s premier environmental inns, on the evening before the expedition, packing our boats that evening to get a head-start on the retreating tide the following morning.

Covid – “Talk about getting in by the skin of our teeth!”

The uncertainty about Covid and its associated restrictions has become part of the new ‘normal’. This trip was no exception, with the different rules in England and Scotland an added complication. We had all booked months in advance, but it was only from 26th April – 10 days before the trip, that the Scottish Government allowed cross border travel from the rest of the UK. Those of us who were due to share with other households on the first night arranged alternative accommodation, most of us had had at least one jab, and we all took a couple of tests before we set off.

On the first day, we paddled across the Strait of Arisaig, a slightly choppy crossing of 6km. Shaun established a system of pairs of buddies for this and all subsequent crossings, so we all had someone to look out for and look out for us as we crossed, keeping in as tight a block as we could and regrouping when the group showed signs of spreading out. As the wind was picking up, we pitched camp on Rubh, Arisaig’s headland, rather than make the planned crossing to Eigg, the stronger paddlers heading off to the skerries in the afternoon, encountering a strong headwind on the return journey. Our leaders were puzzled: the wind was not behaving as forecast.

Eigg

The following day, however, we woke up to the sound of cuckoos, the wind abated, and Shaun came round telling us to be on the water for 10:00. We made the 12km crossing to Eigg, heading directly for the great volcanic pitchstone plug, the Sgurr of Eigg.

With a population of just under 100, Eigg is owned by the Isle of Eigg Heritage Trust, who manage it on behalf of the community since a fundraising campaign and community buyout in 1997. Those of us at the back of the group were rewarded by seeing a pod of harbour porpoises, including a mother and calf, which swam around us. Harbour porpoises are the most common and widely distributed cetacean species in the area and are relatively small compared to dolphins. We did not stop long on Eigg; as the conditions were good, we paddled north through glassy water along its beautiful coastline. We passed basalt columns similar to those seen on the Giant’s Causeway and Fingal’s Cave, seeing plenty of grey seals beside us and the mountains of Skye in front of us.

Rum

Once we reached Eilean Thuilm, on the northern tip of Eigg, we made the 8km crossing to Rum, seeing cormorants, Manx Shearwaters, and lots of angry terms. Initially, the conditions were calm, but then a rainstorm passed over us, increasing the chop and reducing the visibility. Shaun called out, “Anyone with a deck compass, it’s a bearing of 305 degrees!” We paddled into Kinloch on Rum; Shaun went ashore and negotiated for the group to camp outside the Rum Bunkhouse, owned by the Rum Community Trust, where there was a loo, a shower, and a covered decking area that we could use to cook and eat.

Rum is the largest of the Small Isles. Most of the island is a national nature reserve owned and managed by NatureScot, internationally important for its geological features, upland habitats, plant communities and breeding birds. A group of post-graduate students from Exeter University were camping there at the same time, monitoring the Manx shearwaters.

Day three

On day three, we realised what a good shout it had been to press on to Rum; the heavy rain continued until mid-day, and with another spike in the wind-speed forecast, Shaun said we would make this a base camp and stay here another night. Luckily, the café on the island opened for its first day of business, and we all went over to Kim’s Kitchen for egg, bacon and sausage sandwiches. Kim has just started a venison business and provided venison steaks for those who wanted them to cook for supper. While most of us had taken boil-in-the-bag food and pouches of dehydrated meals, the leadership team dined in style, with fresh salmon, rocket salads, peppers and fresh rosemary.

We set off early next morning to a stiff breeze. Shaun assured us this was due to drop, and sure enough, it did. We paddled along the coastline of Rum, seeing Black Guillemots, Puffins, Razorbills and Kittiwakes, and lots of waterfalls pouring down the sheer cliffs after the heavy rain. Eventually, we crossed to Eigg and paddled a long way along the coast before finding somewhere suitable to stop, sheltering on the pier at Galmisdale; we had been paddling for five hours continuously, only pausing to take on water since leaving Rum. We pulled on our storm cags, and I downed a whole flask of soup – never had soup from a flask tasted so good!

Muck

We then paddled across to Muck (8 km). Muck is the smallest of the Small Isles, measuring just 4km across, with a population of around 30. There is a primary school on the island and a community hall, but no grocery store and no doctor. Shaun and Pete went ashore first and spoke to the residents who had been watching the arrival of our colourful flotilla. The rest of us waited in our boats, slightly anxiously, as we had paddled 32km that day, and it was not clear where else we would camp for the night. Eventually, a deal was struck: we could camp on the football pitch next to the community hall and use the loo, but not the kitchen or showers, as the local children used these, and there was an understandable fear of Covid transmission. We donated to the community to thank them for their kindness. As we were pitching our tents on the football pitch, we were joined by Bruce, who runs the café on the island. He said he would be opening at 06:30 next morning for teas, coffees and breakfasts – music to our ears!

On leaving Muck, we made the 7km crossing to the Ardnamurchan Peninsula. With some assistance from the ebbing tide, we aimed first for the dome of Meall nan Con until the mid-point of our crossing to avoid overshooting, seeing the Treshnish Isles and the tip of Coll as we looked south. On approaching Sanna Point, we followed the coast south until we reached the lighthouse. The lighthouse at Ardnamurchan Point marks the most westerly point on the British mainland. Built-in 1849 using granite from Mull, this magnificent 35-metre tower was designed by Alan Stevenson, uncle of Robert Louis Stevenson.

Castle Tioram

After the excitement of reaching the lighthouse, we paddled east along the spectacular north coast of Ardnamurchan until we reached the South Channel of Loch Moidart, where we were rewarded by seeing a White-tailed Eagle. We then followed the South Channel until we reached the iconic ruined Castle Tioram (pronounced Cheerum, rather appropriately in our case), the ancient fortress of the MacDonalds, built in the 13th Century on the tidal island of Eilean Tioram commanding the entrance to the River Shiel. Behind the castle is an enticing flat campsite where we pitched our tents to the sound of woodpeckers drumming. We had paddled 42km that day, and my friend Rachel still went for a swim! Some of us walked across the tidal causeway to the castle in near darkness.

By morning, the castle was cut off once again by the tide. Our final day and we had a relaxed morning at the campsite, leaving at 11:30 and passing through the North Channel of Loch Moidart, stopping at a ford to gather mussels. We continued for a couple of hours, completing our journey on the beach by Samalaman Island, close to our starting point six days earlier. We cooked the mussels on our stoves in a little sea water just until they opened, and they were quite delicious.

In six days, we had paddled 145km (90 miles), formed new friendships and strengthened old ones, and learnt a tremendous amount about expedition paddling, crucially the need to press ahead when there are windows in the weather conditions to reach the next safe location.

Top 10 tips

• Go with an experienced guide. Sea Kayaking Cornwall has many years of experience leading trips in this area and are known to the island communities, but there are, of course, other providers.
• Pack light! I took too much, mainly out of indecision – unsure which buff/water bottle/gloves to take; in each case, I took both. Choose before you go!
• Pack carefully to ensure a good trim. You need more weight in the stern, so pack tent, stove, gas bottles here, but you also need to ensure that both sides of the boat are well balanced, or tracking will be difficult. Two small gas bottles are easier to pack than one big one. Avoid carrying anything heavy on deck lines – it will make the boat top-heavy.
• Take enough water for a week.Take in bladders as they are deformable, fit around other kits, and be more sustainable than taking plastic bottles.
• Assuming you wear a dry suit – you only need to take one spare set of paddling gear to wear underneath.
• Keep plans flexible to make the best use of ‘windows’ in the conditions. It is worth a longer/harder paddle when the conditions are favourable to reach a good campsite if you need to hunker down for a day or so.
• Compare several weather forecasts, as they use different models. SKC used three or four, including XC weather and the Met Office, and chose the ‘windows’ when they told a consistently favourable story.
• Be respectful of local communities.They will value your custom but will naturally be concerned about Covid and toileting.
• A storm cag is an essential piece of kit that I had not come across before. Its primary purpose is thermal regulation – you pull it on over your buoyancy aid when you stop on the shore.
• Finally, this is not a trip for the faint-hearted. We paddled for 32km (20 miles) on successive days, and on one day, we paddled for 42km (26 miles). You need to be prepared to paddle for five hours at a stretch.