Canoe Sailing on Loch Sunart 26-29th April 2012

In early spring 2012 the opportunity arose to attend a OCSG local meeting on Loch Sunart in Ardnamurchan. I have only been to Scotland once before and it was to the same area over a new year period when sunlight was in limited supply, which meant visiting the 'famous' whispering sands by mountain bike in pitch black on a stormy, moonless night, (I didn’t see ‘em and I didn’t hear ‘em.) and after taking a lone mountain walk on new years eve finding, as daylight rapidly fell, that I would have to run (stumble) the last two miles to the roadway in the dusk to avoid being lost on the moor overnight. (no torch, no anything…) I don’t think I’ll even mention how my friends and I got caught out a day or so later on Loch Moidart in Dancer kayaks when a massive gale blew up…So I have some history with the place but was frustrated  by the  lack of good weather and daylight in my ability to enjoy its stunning beauty during my first visit .
So when Chris Wheeler, fellow member of the OCSG let it be known that he was organising a “local” club meet on Ardnamurchan on loch Sunart I didn’t really stop to consider the practical or financial implications of attending a Canoe sailing meet over 500 miles away. I booked the time off work and I was going!
I had promised myself that I would attend some OCSG meets in 2012, as my sailing canoe was now in London rather then kept down in Devon this was a more realistic possibility. I had also promised that at least one of the sailing trips would be in Scotland so this was going to be  it! Wednesday night saw me wheel barrowing all the work related crap out of my car and fill it with useful things like food, beer, tents, tarp and assorted sailing paraphernalia, all topped off with a Solway Dory Sailing Canoe on the roof. The alarm was set and a few hours later it  went off at 3.00 am :I got up like a shot at 3.45 after dozing back off to sleep. After a quick breakfast, a final check and after strapping the mast and sail onto the car roof and I was off through the dark, quiet streets of South London across the river, up the Edgware road onto the M1: On route and ready to “Hit the North” as Mark E Smith once said.
The trip was mostly uneventful except for a constant headwind, which hurt the fuel costs; a craving for hot sausage rolls which was never consummated and the dawning realisation that although I had packed three pairs of shoes and boots none of them were waterproof. The rain and then drizzle persisted past Glasgow and across Glencoe. I was convinced my feet were going to be sodden all weekend, I even diverted into Fort William with the intention of finding somewhere to buy wellington boots but to no avail. I drove back to the Corran ferry and was soon across and driving on the narrow one-track roads that are a feature of the Ardnamurchan peninsula.

On arriving at the Resipole camp site I was surprised at how posh and kempt it was, not the boggy morass my feet had been dreading but more like a tiny patch of suburbia in a Highland surround, with manicured grass and well made roadways and hard standing-great! The campsite shop even took my order for the Saturday Guardian to be reserved, I was a little disappoint, however, to realise the man wouldn’t be delivering it personally to my tent…

I put up my little expedition tent and put my Decathlon tarp over the top of that,both for the first time in anger. It was excellent combo; the tarp creating a walk-in shelter at the front immune from the occasional shower burst that fell on Thursday night, the rear of it sloped down in the direction of the prevailing wind. I spent an hour or so setting up camp and admiring the view over the loch.

Thoughts soon turned to food and I had just realised that I hadn’t brought any matches but that the well stocked campsite shop would have them in time to see the man close the door, lock up and go home, an evening of hunger and darkness loomed, luckily a friendly caravanning couple walked by and I was able to blag a box of matches from them, have some food and a beer and hit the sack, it had been a long day but I was there...

Friday morning broke and revealed a heavy ground frost; the night had been clear and the starscape was amazing compared to what can be seen in London. After breakfast a morning of tinkering ensued, I had been making a bow deck for my canoe and it needed a few final fettles to get it to fit, I had also brought front and rear airbags which needed inflation and all the canoe fittings needed reattachment after a Easter spent sanding, varnishing and oiling the woodwork. During the morning Chris W arrived after spending the night in Glencoe on route, not long after Graham and Andy arrived followed by Tom and Dave Stubbs of Solway Dory, his car filled with assorted bits ordered by various members of the party.

 For me he had a set of the gull wing outriggers, in the past I had been rather unwilling to consider such appendages to my canoe. However as I had been spending the winter thinking of ways to make my open canoe more seaworthy and as I intended to sail in OCSG company more often, where the use of outriggers is commonplace and as I contemplate more adventurous solo trips the logical of having a pair of them could not be denied. Solway Dory’s latest version has wooden decks that complimented the wooden parts of my canoe beautifully. The fitment of the outriggers, of course, meant more tinkering, as did the attempted fitting of my jib halyard which I couldn’t sort out in time , so left for another day.

 Everyone around me efficiently got down to putting up their camp and sorting their canoes. We assembled around Chris’ tent for a group meet and decided to have a bite to eat and then sail just in front of the campsite for Friday’s afternoon’s sail. At this point I managed to rip the valves out of both my trolley wheels, this was due to them becoming under inflated over winter and my failure to check and pump them up regularly. Thankfully Chris’s trolley wheels were of the same size so I became adept at F1 style wheels changes from his trolley to mine over the weekend when launching and recovering the canoes from the campsite slipway. This is a lesson learnt though because if that happened when I was on my own it would prove tricky indeed. What it also did was make me last in launching my canoe on the water and in my eagerness to keep up with the group I made a couple of mistakes when launching my canoe. The first was to route the steering stick on the outside of the bridle rope, the second was to start sailing with my buoyancy aid not on me but in the back of the boat, both these issues soon became apparent, I tried but failed to put the BA on while in the canoe, I have recently purchased a dry suit with rear zip and I couldn’t get the BA past that, I decided to return to the slip and sort myself out, that’s when I realised the bridle rope was making it difficult for me to tack about. Both the issues were soon sorted out: I rerouted the steering stick after heaving to, returned to the shore and eventually managed to put on my BA (I hadn’t unclipped the bottom buckle) What is interesting is that I had been rushed by self imposed group pressure to get on the water asap and that lead to my mistakes. That is to say it wasn’t the rest of the group who were in any way urging me to get a move on and get on the water but my own reluctance to be seen as slow and lingering that lead me to set off before I was ready. My canoe was slight different in setting up and handling due to the fitting of the outriggers and because of my lack of trolley and new drysuit I altered the way I normally get ready to set off. Another valuable lesson learnt.
Once all sorted out the sailing on Friday was fantastic, strong winds meant we were sailing with reefs, the outriggers allowed me to be much less conservative in my hiking out, the bow deck did presumably deflecting some water but my altwood pump kept the shipped water to a mere puddle at the bottom. We crossed the width of the Loch, tacked round a small protruding headland then crossed back again and headed up a small inlet to the hamlet of Salem. The objective I discovered was the pub! Brilliant! After tying the canoe to a suitably large rock to secure it against the incoming tide we walked up to the Saleen Inn, Dave brought me a pint; we booked a table for the following night for dinner and returned to the canoes.
The return sail was brisk,  I had the sail unfurled fully to experience the benefit of the outriggers, the mere psychological benifit in having a larger (wider) presence on the water was confidence building, Dave explained that the weight and leverage of the outriggers, who’s normal position even in stronger winds is to be out of the water most of the time, act as a dampener to the canoe, slowing down its roll rate. The other benefit of the outriggers is that when hiking out and the wind dies suddenly the canoe can become unbalanced by your own weight and you can fall out backward, with the outriggers the leeward outrigger will provide enough buoyancy to help prevent this from happening. Back at the slip I decided to try a capsize to test out my canoe, with the outriggers and additional airbags I found it almost impossible to turn the canoe beyond 90 degrees, only by standing on the outrigger and submerging it and reaching up a pulling down on the mast could I get the gunnel to submerge and fill the canoe with some water, getting back in was effortless. However when I went to untie the bailing bucket from it’s rope I found the tight knot hard to undo with my cold fingers, in a more realistic situation with rougher water this could of proven to be a serious problem and I immediately changed its attachment from a rope knot to a carabineer, another good lesson learnt. After changing, cooking up some curry and rice I joined the others who had assembled in Chris's well resourced tent, resplendent with icebox (unnecessary!) and fan heater (necessary!) beers, spirits and yarns were passed around until tiredness took over and everyone hit the sack.

Dawn with her rosy red fingers shone once more on the day of our Odyssey down Loch Sunart. Tom’s cousin arrived with a trailer carrying a Solway Dory Osprey; a large sailing canoe trimaran. We were on the water by ten the wind was much more moderate then Friday, we ran before it down the loch heading west. David left his trimaran on the trailer and took out Graham’s new kayak instead.

 I thought he did this because the winds were too light but I later found out some vital part of the set up had fallen off the trailer on route to Loch Sunart. He had no problem in keeping up though, indeed he and Tom, who had a paddle sailing set up were able to forge ahead of most of the dedicated sailing canoes until David turned back just before we reached the island of Carna. Tom’s paddle sailing was an eye opener for me this weekend.

 The benefits and elegance of which I only begin to fully appreciated now. Other members of the OCSG have being banging on about the importance of paddle sailing incessantly but really you have to experience it to belief it.

Most of my previous tidal sailing on the Dart or Salcombe/Kingsbridge estuaries I will sail with the tide direction so if light winds are experienced I still have the tidal assistance, that means I can mostly avoid paddling or if I have to paddle my poor paddling skills are masked by the tide flow. On Saturday the tide was against us most of the day and light flukey winds and periods of no wind meant there was no avoiding the use of the paddle if one wanted to get home before dark.

Meanwhile I left it to others to know exactly where we were and what route to take, due to the light winds and the prospect of a long paddle back to Resipole we circumnavigated the island of Carna rather then press on further along loch Sunart, this brought us into the mouth of Loch Teacuis, a loch that spurs off of Sunart.  We beached for lunch, I had brought my 60 litre barrel on the trip as a try out, it attached to two D rings I glued into the hull of the canoe behind the seat and will carry camping gear on future camping expeditions, today it just carried my lunch and newspaper.

 During some of the brisker downwind sailing in the morning I was able to use the barrel as an extension of my seat and slid my weight back onto it in order to lift the bows of the canoe up, whether this will do much for its water tightness is another matter however. I was starting to feel a bit sunburnt, another lesson, as I hadn’t brought any sunscreen with me. After eating lunch and playing with Andy’s lovely dog Lula for a while we boarded back and started the journey back to Resipole.

This initially involved beating into the wind against the tide was last to leave the beach and the group spread out somewhat due to flukey winds. Initially I was determined not to paddle but as the wind dropped or disappeared for long periods of time that was not an option so out came the paddle. I tried some different techniques, paddling with the rudder lifted, gentle paddling that I stopped as soon as the wind dropped and tried to sail at any opportunity. Eventually I arrived at a solution which worked for me; the rudder stick I held behind my knee, correcting the steering by moving my leg forwards or backwards, the sheet I held by my other foot allowing me to release it instantly, rather then attempt the gentle graceful paddle style I had seen Tom and others use I decided that the all or nothing approach would be best, getting the canoe up to a reasonable speed and maintaining it by brute force when there was no wind and carrying on regardless when it did pick up, it wasn’t pretty but it worked, at the end of the day I was quite getting into it but I must admit there were periods of paddling with the boom bouncing against my head and the tiny speck of the camp site far, far away that it felt a bit desperate.

 We all returned to the campsite in time to change and get to the pub for a three course meal and a few pint which came to £35 which was great value. I was intending to stay on until Monday morning but there comes a point in a trip like this when the realities of travelling back home and sorting out the gear to re engage in normal life become more pressing. If I had left on Monday I would not of got back to London until late evening at the earliest then there was the small matter of taking all the kit out of my work car in time for a normal work day on Tuesday, so I decided to strike camp, sail for the day and head off late afternoon on Sunday. Tom, Graham and myself set off further into the loch towards the narrows, tom with his paddle sailing getting further ahead, Graham and I kept to the north side of the loch, Graham trailing a hopeful fishing line and we both called out to the seals who came to stare at us. At one point a mini Hooley broke out, the outriggers once again proved their worth as we set off flying up the loch.

 We eventually landed on a small beach on the narrows on the other side we could see white caps as the wind blew down onto the loch from the ever closing in mountains,and after a somewhat liquid lunch consisting of a can of Heineken, we set off back to the campsite.

 Chris contacted me via VHF and we met up not far from the campsite, the wind picked up at this point and great sailing was had for a while until I felt the time had come to call it a day.

 A last bit of unwelcome excitement for me was a horrible realisation that I didn’t have my newly brought video camera with me: I was sure that I had put it in my buoyancy aid before setting off sailing on Sunday but on the water it was no where to be seen. Assuming it was left back at camp in the car somewhere I was horrified when I couldn’t find it, after unpacking most of the car, searching around the slipway and campsite I resigned myself to the fact that it had been lost. I should have tied it onto my BA before I went on the water as I normally do with my camera and VHF. I loaded my canoe onto my kari-tech roof rack and slid it up onto the roof. I picked up the mast to put on the roof and there, lying next to the car was my video camera! It must of slid under an airbag in the canoe on the water and fallen out when loaded onto the roof! Result! It was as a gift from God because losing the camera and the footage really would of put a bit of a dampener on what had been a fantastic weekend. Cheerfully saying goodbyes I then set off for the long trek home, the weather was amazing and the scenery between Ardnamurchan and Glasgow even more so. I decided I would head south as far as I could and then car kip for an hour or two before setting off again, as it was I stopped at least four times between Glasgow and London for a bit of shut eye and arrived home at 10.30 the next morning. On the first of these halts somewhere before Carlisle I pulled into a deserted motorway services, put the handbrake on, lowered the drivers seat, threw my sleeping bag over me and got some sleep, almost immediately I could hear the wind rustling the polytarp cover for my sail and seemingly rock the car back and forth. I was just thinking how fortunate it was I had stopped before such a gale struck when there was an almighty crash! I shot upright to find the car had in fact come off the hand brake, rolled across an entire, but thank god, nearly empty car park before smashing into and mounting the low curb on the other side, somehow managing to avoid lampposts, bollards and other cars! My final lesson learnt on this trip was to engage handbrake AND gears to prevent crashing when crashing out.

Lessons learnt:
• Ensure all equipment is in good working order and ready to perform its task.
• Avoid rushing to get on the water, take time to ensure the set up is correct and everything is in               
         its place.
• Ensure any safety equipment is easily available to deploy in adverse conditions or situations. 
• Ensure all equipment is properly secured
• Don’t forget sunscreen
• Don’t forget to make sure the handbrake is on! 

Friday route is a bit inaccurate

First sail of the year: Medway Estuary 10th March 2012

Since I have been Canoe Sailing for the last six years nearly all of it has been in the South West, as my family live there, very close to the Dart River and Estuary. But living in London means Sailing is expensive in travel costs and not as frequent as I would wish. Looking closer to my home the Medway Estuary seems to offer great possibilities for canoe sailing in the South East. Flowing out from Kent the river winds its way past the quays of Rochester and docks of Chatham before opening up into a wide expanse of marshes, Islands and mud banks before entering onto the end of the Thames Estuary. 

The history of the Medway is fascinating, with a long maritime and naval past, the remnants of which dot the landscape ranging from Elizabethan castles to Victorian gun batteries. Perhaps the most notable event occurring in 1667 the Dutch arrived during the second Anglo Dutch war to stir things up a bit, capturing and burning the capital ships of the Royal Navy, setting fire to the principal naval dockyard of the time and causing fear, panic and confusion throughout. It was at this time Sir William Batten made his famous remark “By God. I think the Devil shits Dutchmen!”  The Estuary is now free from the threat of the Dutch but perhaps faces a far greater danger should it be the site of "Boris Island"; the current Mayor of London's fantastical proposition to build an Airport either on a man-made Island in the Thames, by the mouth of the Medway or on the Isle of Grain which is its Northern shore. The facts of thousands of birds living  breeding and flying around here in an area that is a protected under European law and the presence of a mere1500 tonnes of TNT explosives on the sunken liberty ship SS Richard Montgomery at the mouth of the Medway are apparently mere trifles  to our dear leader. We shall see. In the meantime the Medway is industrialised to some extent along its Northern edges with power stations and container ports but it still offers a semi wildness landscape of mud flats, salt marshes and low lying islands bounded on the South by oast houses and orchards all just a few miles from the megatropolis of London.

The Bridge to Sheerness.

 

So it was in early March I made my way to the Isle of Sheppey, to the now sleepy but once important town of Queenborough to join a group paddle that was to celebrate the launch of a series of downloadable guides and videos for canoeists wanting to explore the tidal Medway. http://www.discoveryourestuary.com/ 

Queenborough Church

This seemed a good way of getting a feel for the Estuary for the first time and be in company. The weather conditions were very favourable; light F2-3 winds and a spring like 15 degrees promised.
Somehow I managed to forget how to get to Queenborough and I had left my sat-nav in my work car so I arrived somewhat late, most of the paddlers were already waiting on the slip. As it was the first sail of the year I needed to take some time sorting out my canoe, inflating and attaching the side air bags etc. checking that I had everything in it’s proper place So by the time I got onto the slip, the paddlers had left!

Queenborough Slip: Accessible at all states of tide.

I wasn't too bothered as I was slightly unsure how my sailing canoe would "interface" with a guided paddle anyway. As I trundled down the slip I could just see the back markers of the group disappearing up the Swale and into the distance. After unfurling the sail and then threading the jib halyard I was all set to begin the 2012 season!
 Launching into the Swale the incoming tide was against me but with a Westerly F2 beam reach even in light winds I was delighted at how the Solway Dory Curlew was able to punch against the tide. Once out on the Medway the tide was with me but now I had to close haul down the Estuary, dropping the jib to enable better pointing into the wind seemed like a good idea. 

The estuary was quite murky to start with but the sun was gradually burning off the low cloud, unlike the estuaries in the South West, which have been my normal sailing areas, the Medway shore is very flat, the islands are low and undistinguished, I found it was very easy to get disorientated when tacking. The most obvious landmarks is the huge tower of Grain power station looming over the Estuary with a slightly sinister presence, further down into the estuary I could see the animal-like shapes of Thames Port Container cranes seemingly herding across the skyline. There was very little traffic on the Estuary apart from a few fishing boats and a one man hovercraft that noisily sped past. There were a couple of huge flat bottomed barges moored up which I kept a good distance from, those things give me the Willes: The surface current flows straight under those things rather then being pushed around them, meaning a capsize in front of them would see you potentially forced under and possibly pinned to the bottom! After beating up the Estuary past Chetney Marshes on my left  I turned into the entrance of Stangate creek, the tide against wind here or possibly a sand bar  creating a bit of bump at its mouth which might be something to watch out for in stronger winds. Once in to the creek I practised my hoving-to skills with my jib while scanning the horizon with a small pair of bin's to hunt for the elusive paddlers.

Hove-to on Stangate Creek.

After trying to remember the advertised route they were taking I eventually found the group tucked behind a disused pier on the southern side of Burntwick Island.

The Island was once a Victorian rubbish dump and the foreshore is festooned with bits of old bottles and ceramics. After ten minutes or so of my arrival the paddlers set off over the top of the now mostly flooded Island to investigate an abandoned WW2 barrack block. 

With the paddle group on Burntwick Island

I left them and set off back up Stangate Creek. The day was now really sunny and beautiful, the sun having burnt off the low cloud and the Estuary was full of wildlife, thousands of birds noisily calling and wheeling in the clear blue sky overhead, a solitary seal accompanied me for a while popping his whiskered head up now and then.

The Sun has burnt through!

I met back up with the group as we took the high tide short cut of Shepard's Creek, cutting through Deadman's Island and back to the Swale and across to the slip at Queenborough. A very successful first exploration of canoe sailing in the South East, I will be returning very shortly! 

Map of trip, about 7 miles or so in total.