Island hopping in the Firth of Clyde
Andrew Morton and daughter spend an idyllic day island hopping in the Firth of Clyde
Visiting Ailsa Craig and Arran
Ailsa Craig, or Paddy’s Milestone, is a spectacular volcanic plug situated in the Firth of Clyde, roughly half-way between Belfast and Glasgow, hence its Irish name, and the Gaelic is translated as Fairy Rock.
It tempted me many years ago in my kayak, before I was wealthy enough to own a ‘big boat’. In 2005 I set off from Girvan in a racing kayak, on a personal and unrecorded challenge, to paddle the 8.3 miles to the island, climb to the top, 1,000ft up, and then return. The trip took me four hours one morning, in glorious sunshine and calm seas – a pocket adventure. The only error I made was not looking back on the way there to pick landmarks. So, when I set off on my return to Girvan, I hadn’t a clue where I was going, as the coastline was so unremarkable and uniform. No compass, of course. Silly boy.
Time to go back
By 2020, a return journey was long overdue, but this time the choice of transport was Tiptoe, my 76CA Finnmaster motorboat, a much softer option for a much older man.
My daughter and I set off at 2pm in bright sunshine from Largs, to motor to Girvan on Saturday 28 September with a following Force 3/4 wind, at an economic 6.5 knots (4 litres per hour) and with sun all the way – a beautiful, gentle cruise, alone, out in the open ocean, with nothing but the ubiquitous gulls and guillemots, and occasional sparkling white gannet for company.
We arrived at Girvan marina just before 6pm as the sun was setting behind Ailsa Craig. I organised fish and chips, while Emily walked out to the harbour mouth to take pictures of the setting sun.
We’d phoned Tom, the harbourmaster, before we left, and he was most helpful. He told us there was plenty of space at the marina, which had been dredged recently, and had at least a metre at LAT (the tidal range varies between 2m and 3m).
“Just walk off the pontoon, through the magnetic gate, and pay your dues using the parking meter,” he added. “It will print your ticket with codes for the marina gate and the facilities – it’s all automated.”
Indeed, the facilities were superb, and we met Anne, one of four who keep them
in such pristine condition. The hot shower the next morning was most welcome, and all just a few metres from the pontoons.
Overnighting in Girvan
Girvan might appear a rather tired little town, like many on the Clyde coast which have lost their allure over the past 60 years, as air travel to sunnier climes has tempted many to jet abroad. But it has to be said, much has been done recently to make it attractive to visitors, with play parks, a broad esplanade, a clean, broad beach, the splendid little marina, and a smart new community facility by the harbour called The Quay Zone.
Certainly, Girvan attracts a large number of motorhomes and a few travellers too, all parked at the seafront beside the marina, in a massive, free parking area. Anne warned us that they would all love to get access to the facilities. So on no account were we to divulge the codes! Anne also advised us on the purchase of fish and chips. The nearest to the marina was mobbed with a queue 20 deep, but there were many other restaurants and coffee shops close by, and at least three more fish and chip shops. She recommended one with a much shorter queue, and we were not disappointed.
One of the attractions in the marina is the RNLI lifeboats, and I’ve seen four different boats in the marina over the years: Severn, Shannon, Trent and Mersey class vessels. It seems there are always two – I later found out that they come to Noble’s yard in Girvan to be refurbished, serviced and repaired. If they can get in and out of the harbour at any tide, then so can I. I’ve never felt so safe!
We spent a comfortable night in the marina. But I awoke at 3.30am to find the temperature outside 1°C and inside just 5°C. We were warm enough in our sleeping bags, but I elected to switch on the Wallas heater, and that got the cabin up to a relatively toasty 13°C by the time we got up at 7am. Actually, our power consumption overnight was negligible because the temperature in the cabin was much the same as our fridge. That extended my ‘sell-by’ date I’m sure.
We left for Ailsa Craig just before 8am, as the sun rose above the hills behind. I checked the sea temperature with two different thermometers, both confirming
‘If lifeboats can get in and out of the harbour at any tide, then so can I’
a relatively warm 13°C out on the Firth of Clyde. As a consequence, warm sea and cold air produced an ethereal mist rising from the water in the morning sun.
Looking west we saw Ailsa Craig increasing in size as we approached, eventually filling the camera lens; the autumn colours spectacular in the clear morning sky. At 6.5 knots we were there in less than 90 minutes.
We had chosen the day because of the tide and weather, so conditions were optimal for landing. There’s a good jetty owned by the Northern Lighthouse Board, but you are not allowed to tie up.
We decided to stop for a few moments to take some photos, and permit Emily to set off to climb the mini-mountain. After all, it was early on a Sunday morning, and there was not a boat in sight. But I didn’t linger long, and anchored just 100m from the jetty where the holding was good. I wouldn’t recommend trying to land on the island on anything but a calm day.
Fascinating island
Ailsa Craig has a fascinating history. In particular, it was the source of the famous Ailsa Craig granite curling stones, so there is much in the way of industrial remains near the lighthouse, which now operates automatically, with solar panels charging a large bank of batteries. Many of the buildings lie much as they were left, with open doors leading to rooms with decaying furniture, and the detritus of past lives scattered in disarray. All around are the remains of the factory buildings, railway lines, trolleys and workshops, a reminder of happier and more productive days. There’s even a sole gravestone with a poignant reminder of lives and loves of those who lived on the island long ago, inscribed: ‘On a hill far away. Mary and Tommy together again. RIP’.
The trip to the top is a real scramble, with a poorly marked path which takes you only a few hundred metres to the ancient keep. I guess that the gradient averages at around 30°. Perhaps someone who knows their trigonometry might be able to work it out using a large-scale map. It took my daughter 30 minutes to get to the top, and it’s a safe enough hike, but only for the fit I’m afraid. If you are old, and carrying a bit of extra weight, then this might not be for you. I don’t want anyone dying of a heart attack, after reading this article and being tempted to scale the peak!
After Emily returned to the boat we cruised round the island to see the huge cliffs and gannet colony. Words don’t do justice to the spectacular views, on a par with Foula and the smaller Bass Rock. We have visited all three on Tiptoe, and count ourselves hugely lucky to have done so.
After our circumnavigation we turned north towards Arran and zipped along at up to 18 knots, as the sea was fairly calm. We were soon whizzing past Pladda and Whiting Bay, to anchor off the north-west shore of Holy Isle, near the jetty, just an hour after leaving Ailsa Craig. Lunch was called for, as it was our first square meal of the day, and the autumn sun was shining enough to allow us to sit out on the rear deck and bask in the warmth. Life can’t get better than this.
‘Many of the buildings lie much as they were left, with open doors leading to rooms with decaying furniture’
Suddenly, we found ourselves being passed by a swimmer and two kayaks. The lady concerned was swimming round Holy Isle, just for fun, as one does, and the kayakers were giving her safety cover. She reckoned six hours for the swim. Good luck to her. I think I’ll stick to kayaking, it’s so much drier and warmer. I was reminded that the sea I measured that morning was just 13°C.
Anchor bother
But time was passing and it was time to lift anchor. Trouble; the electric winch struggled to bring up a huge old wire hawser which had been dumped long ago, and was now firmly attached to our Bruce anchor. There was no way I could bring it up out the water, so we feared we would have to cut loose. But I lowered the anchor quickly, and by a great stroke of fortune it broke free, and we were able to escape without loss of our gear.
Emily commented that a way of dealing with the same problem in future would be to hang our grappling hook over the side, hook it to the offending wire hawser, then tie the other end to the bow cleat; lower the anchor and free it that way. A light-bulb moment – of course, so simple. Another good reason for keeping a grappling hook on board. If you haven’t got one, buy one now.
Life is never dull on the lochs and islands of Scotland: on departure from Holy Isle we saw a beautiful little sailing boat, Fluke, crossing the sea towards Largs, and decided to photograph it. The two on board, Alison and John, were keen to see the pictures, so we exchanged phone numbers to send the photos. The boat was in perfect condition, but looked vintage. To our surprise we found it was brand new and had been designed and hand built by the partially-sighted John, over a period of 10 years. Clearly a magnum opus, and hugely impressive. I’ve arranged to meet him in Largs one of these days, to see his boat at close quarters – that should be fascinating.
We reached Largs at 3pm, just 25 hours after leaving the marina the day before, having covered 80 miles using 70 litres of diesel. A great trip! There’s absolutely nothing to beat it for sure, and only possible because we had a wee speedboat to whisk us to and from our destinations in total comfort.
I sympathise with those who love the gentle peace of sailing, and the fact it is a genuinely ‘green’ mode of transport, but there are advantages too, to having a ‘whizz boat’, don’t you think?
Andrew Morton cruises solo, and sometimes with his daughter, Emily, on board Tiptoe, his 76CA Finnmaster. Last year they enjoyed several Scottish adventures, including a voyage through the Corryvreckan, around Mull, Staffa, the Treshnish Isles, Colonsay and Gigha, and a trip to Inverness and back through the Crinan and Caledonian canals.