Pentland paradise

Day 1 - Gills Bay past Dunnet Head

After a great Open Water Navigation and Tidal Planning course at Glenmore Lodge, I was supper psyched to put my new skills into action.  Erin Bastion and I had a few days off, so a plan was hatched to head to the North East coast and explore the Pentland Firth.  Famous for having some of the strongest tides in the world, it seemed the perfect place to test our new found skills.

Erin enjoying perfect conditions round Dunnet Head.

We reach Gills Bay with a scorching sun above and decide to enjoy a nice coast hugging paddle past Dunnet Head. We bounce our way through the Merry Men of Mey and pass under the towering cliffs at Dunnet Head as the tidal flow races on.  We round the cliffs into Dunnet Bay with one thing on our minds, a warm brew then dinner.

Day 2 – Skirza, past Duncansby Head, round Stroma to John O’Groats

Next up, Duncansby Head.  We heard tails of boily eddies, crashing waves and raging tidal streams, so naturally we had to go and check them out.  As we slide onto the water at 6pm, we share a ‘this is going to be a scary day’ look.  Slowly, the tidal stream increases and in no time we are approaching ‘The Knee’, an infamous sea stack, guarding Duncansby Head.  The noise hits us first.  An ominous rumble from distant breaking waves.  Then the sight.  White tips of the tidal race splattered on the horizon line like galloping white horses.  We are pulled toward them as fear oozes across our bodies.  As back paddle, I nobly ask Erin if she wants to go first.  She does (thank goodness).

Happy Erin after a great play session on the Duncansby Head tidal race.

We paddle with all our might, clenching the paddle as we bow to the waves crashing over our heads.  We reach the eddy breathing hard and have time to take stock.  Water charges past us like cars on a motorway.  We feel powerless.  Slowly, confidence grows inside us and we begin to play.  We break in and out, ferry glide and surf the pulsing waves as smiles grow but the huge breaking wave at the top eludes us.  Maybe next time…

We push on north across the inner sound out to Stroma.  The tide encourages us on until we reach the beach eager to explore the deserted houses.  Birds erupt into life as we venture onto the island, past a tired old boat, towards one of the many stone ruins abandoned in the late 50’s.  We duck through tiny doors into the damp, gloomy rooms, imagining what living in this harsh, windswept landscape would have been like.

Landing on Stroma to have a good explore of the deserted island.

Time rushes by and we find ourselves scrabbling back into our boats to catch the final hour of tide to take us round the northern tip of Stroma.  We pass the tip and paddle hard as a head-wind develops.  We keep paddling but strangely make no progress along the coast.  A fisherman confirms our fears that we have missed the ebb tide and are now battling with building 9Kn flood tide.  Sad times!  Defeated, we cut our losses and flee back behind the island, hasterly consulting our maps for a plan B back to John O’Groats.

Back on the mainland, we make a b-line to the café.  As we sip our hot chocolates, we reflect, surprised at how quick tides change and also how strong they are.   Our respect for the Pentland grows, as we set about planning our final day in this unforgiving place.

Erin getting stuck into some tidal planning (and chips).

Always time to squeeze in some tourist time at the Castle of Mey.

Day 3 – John O’Groats to South Ronaldsay

Feeling confident and keen to stretch our tidal planning skills, we plan an ambitious route from John O’Groats to Stroma to Swona and finally over to Orkney.  We know know that epics start the night before and small errors make the difference between enjoying an amazing days riding <9Kn tides and ending up exhausted in the middle of the North Sea.

We nervously pull on the first paddle stokes of the day, happy that we are on time as we know from yesterday that there is no room for error today.

The paddle out to Stroma goes well.  We enjoy the familiar territory but are kept on edge with the unexpected swell rolling in from the north-east.  After a brief, nervous pee stop on Stroma, we venture out into the Pentland Firth heading for Swona.  Tides reach 9Kn in this crossing so we choose to tackle it at slack water.  The swell continues to increase, giving us plenty to think about as we ride the rolling house size waves.

Farm machinery left to rot when the final island inhabitants left Swona in the 50s

 Swell is crashing onto the exposed western coastline of Swona, so we sneak round the back and glide into The Haven, a natural harbour, sheltered from the battering swell.  Our tidal planning allows for plenty of exploring time, which we are grateful for as we discover lots of Swona’s secrets.  We scoff our lunch overlooking the dramatic, battered coastline, then head to the roofed houses to have a nosey.

Enjoying a tasty lunch overlooking a swell battered coastline

 To our amazement, one house is full of clutter.  Old letters, magazines, crockery and tax records cover the shelves, all dating back to the late nineteen fifties.  We have a good (probably naughty ) rummage, before exploring the island more.  We chuckle at puffins, spi on seals and promptly get chased away by Great Scewers.

Having a peak at the items left behind when the islanders finally left Swona.

Documents dating back to the 50's.

Time ticks on and soon enough we must undertake our last crossing.  Swona to South Ronaldsay in Orkney.  By now, the flood tide is easing so we make quick progress over to the shelter of the ferry terminal.  We land, thankfully find that the ferry is running and breathe a huge sigh of relief.  We made it!

Happy faces safe on Orkney.

Three days of sea kayaking in the Pentland Firth taught us a huge amount.  Our respect for the sea grew, tidal planning skills were honed and another beautiful area of Scotland was explored.

Next up, The Minch J