SOUTH FROM SCOURIE
A northerly swell had been running at more than three metres for days and plans for the north coast had changed, changed again, and finally been abandoned on sight of the heavy surf. It is hard to describe the power of the north atlantic swell, and landing a loaded boat through big surf is an experience most will avoid at all costs. The west coast, though still exposed, was less daunting and while the big headlands held little appeal, Scourie offered a sheltered launch, and Handa Island would cover our escape south, bound for Kylesku and the fjords of Loch Glendhu and Glencoul.
Against all expectations, it turned out to be a wonderful, dramatic trip, running easily with the wind and surfing the swell south before turning inland, passing beneath the bridge and entering a different world of mist shrouded, heather clad hills. I was reminded of a passage described by Chris Duff in Southern Exposure, the book describing on his remarkable solo circumnavigation of New Zealand’s South Island. Battered by heavy seas and high winds Duff had escaped following the arterial channels deep inland. Paddling beneath steep vegetated walls as the rain fell and rivers cascaded to the sea he seemed to enter an almost meditative state, retreating both physically and mentally from the exposure of the open coast that demanded such intense commitment at all times.
Our experience was not comparable, and yet I understood the sense of it, the calm that follows with the change from open water, cold wind and heavy seas, to the sudden tranquillity that seemed impossible to imagine only moments before.
We camped beside the bothy and for a while the rain eased enough to walk into the hills that rise behind. It was a brief respite and for the remainder of the night the rain drummed heavily on the tent walls. I think by morning our enthusiasm was similarly dampened but the journey out to Kylesku revived flagging spirits. The smell of bacon on the breeze from the hotel before the bridge however had us questioning the decision to head out into open water so soon. In fact the decision was made without need for discusion, both bows turning in to the slip without a word spoken.
A few hours later, dry, warm and well fed, I hitched a lift back to Scourie with a local sparkie. Result!
