CRUISING LIFE
Peter Cumberlidge: For wild remoteness the west coast of Scotland cannot be bettered. In this land of grand mountains and mysterious sea lochs you can savour the sense of space and escapism
Most of us, especially on the south coast, are used to quite gregarious cruising areas, with plenty of other boats about and a sense of company and camaraderie. But anyone looking for wilder, more remote waters cannot do better than make for the west of Scotland. This spectacular coastline of soaring mountains and sheltered sea lochs lifts you instantly from the stresses of modern life.
Jane and I were cruising in the Firth of Clyde recently and were captivated once again by the sense of space and room to breathe in the upper lochs. One of the most dramatic is Loch Striven, which creeps mysteriously inland from the south-east end of the famous Kyles of Bute. We saw no other yachts, from the mouth of Striven to its head. We passed steep slopes of bracken and heather, and fir trees flourished near sea level, sheltering lonely cottages and oases of greensward.
The head of the loch was like a Norwegian fjord and we felt privileged to be in this special place, with hardly another soul in sight. Over the hills we spotted the propeller tips of a massive wind farm, a strange sight against the vast-scale forestry stretching miles inland.
Back down at the mouth of the loch we saw a fishfarming ship with huge tanks of salmon and sea trout thrashing about. The fish were being fed and their sheer numbers were incredible.
Entering the Kyles of Bute we saw a Calmac ferry crossing to Rothesay and yachts in the distance heading past the Cumbrae Islands towards the Clyde. The southern part of the East Kyle feels much softer than Loch Striven, with lush green fields to starboard. At the north end you squeeze through a narrow buoyed channel between the low scrubby Burnt Isles.
Beyond the narrows we found another night of blissful remoteness in a spacious bay, where highland cattle came down to the water’s edge and heathery mountains loomed overhead. Seals lolled unperturbed on the beach. Away to the south-west we could just see the tip of the Isle of Arran out in the Clyde approaches and the mountains way over on the Kintyre peninsula. Beyond the West Kyle, Loch Fyne is yet another mysterious waterway reaching far inland, up to the old market town of Inverary. Here you pass a wonderful anchorage opposite the Otter Inn.
Our Kyles of Bute hideaway was a fantastic setting in which to unwind, which we duly did over glasses of peaty Islay whisky.