Our kayaks glided silently across the glassy surface of the bay as we enjoyed a calm start to the day. Out of the shelter of the bay, the seas were not rough, but the winds were spinning my boat around slowly, very slowly, like an unhurried compass needle; east, north-east, north; then paused, and, after a few seconds, turned as unhurriedly back towards the right. As a result, I struggled to keep close to the shoreline and out of the strong winds as I zig-zagged along the Loch.
Out of Loch Ailort, the coast was composed of beaches interspersed by low rocky headlands. We were not in any hurry to get anywhere so we followed every rock indentation, nook and cranny.
The final push of the day was across an exposed stretch of water and got the adrenaline pumping once more. The wind howled across the surface of the water and I leaned the boat to the left into the force of the wind. With alarming regularity, stronger gusts would rock the boat so violently that staying above the surface of the water was like trying to ride a rodeo bull. Twice, I came close to capsizing, but managed to slap the water with my paddle to right the boat. Through gritted teeth, I fought my way across and into the shelter of Samalaman Bay.
From the relative safety of the bay, we could enjoy the stunning views to the West and North of Eigg, Rum and the soaring gabbros ridges of the Cullin Mountains of Skye. Next, we turned our attention to the beach, which was covered by countless thousands of shells. We landed carefully and behind the beach, tucked deep in the trees, was the most idyllic campsite. Again, no discussions. We set up camp.
After such a tough few days, we decided to hike from the sands of Samalaman Bay to the welcoming Glenuig Inn for an excellent evening meal and plenty of Scottish brewed Real Ales.
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