Having arrived in Scalpay in a fresh breeze we left in beautiful flat calm conditions, not too good for sailing but, we discovered, ideal for nature spotting. We decided to leave through a different sound and under the relatively new single road bridge that connects Scalpay to Harris. We had passed over the bridge on our Saturday afternoon trip to the shops in Tarbert and it wasn’t particularly high so we needed to do some sums and check the height of tide to ensure we could pass underneath without hitting. In the event we had a clearance of between four and five metres but it seems a lot less than that when viewed from deck level.
As soon as we were clear we made a course towards the Shiant Islands but were quickly distracted by a large pod of dolphins. Juvenile and mature seemed to be swimming together, rather like synchronised swimmers but perhaps the young were learning their moves from their parents?
As we approached the Shiants it was clear that we were entering an area with intense bird life. During this voyage we have become increasingly familiar with seabirds that I’d never really noticed before, particularly guillemots but also large numbers of gannets, terns and the odd puffin but as we approached the Shiants we could see and hear large flocks of birds wheeling within a cove formed by the high sides of the islands. They were puffins. Hundreds, possibly thousands filling the sky, similar to murmurations of starlings. There were very probably guillemots and razorbills in amongst the flocks too, we have certainly seen lots of common and black guillemots over the last few days but the puffins were everywhere.
In retrospect we probably should have anchored and stayed in the Shiants a little longer, they are fascinating. They are uninhabited (apart from the bird colonies!) and privately owned by Adam Nicholson who describes the island and it's history in his book ‘An Island Life’ and would be well worth a return visit, however we were keen to get to Gairloch and prepare ourselves for one of our key targets of the whole voyage, a climb of Mount Slioch.
As a sixteen year old I was a naval cadet in the Combined Cadet Force at Hardyes Grammar School, Dorchester and signed up to spend a week in Loch Ewe on annual camp. We spent most of our time ‘messing about in boats’ but one day we headed off to Kinlochewe in the back of a lorry and hiked up Slioch; I was keen to repeat the experience.
Gairloch has a small fishing harbour and pier with limited space for yachts so we were lucky to be able to squeeze onto the pontoon and get sorted for the next day. The shopkeeper at the harbour reckoned we could get a catch a bus from the harbour the next morning that would get us tto Kinlochewe , so, after a good breakfast and a couple of Ibrupofins to stop my ankle hurting we were off.
We had inadvertently chosen the hottest day of the year for the climb and although highland temperatures are certainly milder than those ‘down south’ it was clearly going to be a warm day. Slioch, which translates as ‘the Spear’, rises up behind Loch Maree to a height of 981 metres (3,218 feet) and is apparently one of the best known and most photographed sights in the Highlands. The first hour or so of the walk is fairly flat and follows a river that feeds Loch Maree but as the recommended route leaves the river bed it climbs steeply up through some loose scree, and eventually up into a large valley that lies under a long ridge. It was extremely hot and after four hours scrambling and climbing we still couldn’t see Mt Slioch and I was looking forward to getting to a small lake in a corrie that I remembered from my cadet expedition. What I did not remember was just how steep and difficult the climb was and I found myself wondering if, as a bunch of fifteen year olds wearing cadet boots we really did get to the summit! The corrie provided an opportunity for a quick pause and some refreshing water and then we were off again. We were at the summit around five hours after we had set off and we were rewarded with some stunning views.
We were joined on the summit by a very chirpy Glaswegian who appeared to have jogged all the way up and seemed completely relaxed and refreshed, rather depressing for us!
As we left the summit we decided to follow a ridge to another peak called Sgurr an Tuill Bhain and then drop back down into the valley below. We were slightly concerned that clouds were beginning to sweep across the mountains, it looked as if the heat of the day was about to be replaced by rain and poor visibility. The descent was nearly as tough as the climb and full concentration was required to ensure that we had a sure footing in amongst the loose rocks. Next time, if there is a next time, I shall bring a couple of poles with me. For much of the climb there was no clear path and this was became a real worry for us as we tried to find our way down through the cloud and murk avoiding the crags and boggy patches.
By the time we were back at the river bed we were soaking wet as the clouds turned to very heavy rain. We eventually made it back to Kinlochewe and, as the very nice lady in the local hotel informed us, we had missed the last bus back to Gairloch, there wouldn’t be another for a couple of days and her bar only served residents but she did have the number for a taxi. Sadly the taxi driver wasn’t able to help and there wasn’t accommodation available either in the hotel or in the local bed and breakfasts so we headed off to stand in the rain with our thumbs out and hope for a lift. Gairloch is around eighteen miles from Kinloch and after being passed by a couple of cars we were just starting to walk when we were saved by a couple of lads in a lowered VW polo who, after a very short negotiation managed to squeeze us into the back of their car and deliver us back to Little Scarlet in exchange for some damp Scottish pounds. They were a fisherman and a fish farmer and were great fun but above all they saved us from a very long night trudging back to Gairloch.
Little Scarlet was very quiet that night and we had a slow start the following day, however we did end up walking into Gairloch to get some shopping and an excellent lunch in the local museum inside an ex-cold war bunker.
Back on-board later afternoon we decided we take the short trip across the loch to Badochra, an enclosed natural harbour with moorings and a hotel on the waterfront. We found a mooring and were quickly ashore and at the pub that was reminiscent of a west country harbour. It was a very pretty and comfortable spot to spend the night before heading off on the ‘naval warfare’ chapter of the voyage the following day.