Day 12 – The Wild West

At 0640 this morning I stood on the shore at Oban sailing club, slid the Bahookie into the water, got in and paddled. At 0700 I started a 3 hour fight with a headwind and some big seas on the Firth of Lorn.

I’d like to say that I wasn’t fazed but I’d be lying. I’ve never paddled a crossing like that, it was simply fierce. I took a battering from 3 different squalls filled with hail that lashed at my face. I had to brace in anger as I lent over my paddle and shouldered a wave that crashed onto my head. Never mind just trying to stay upright during the general pounding from the wind. I have never felt so alone in a boat.

When I got into the shelter of Mull under Duart Castle I felt more than a little relieved. I was exhilarated, yes, but I wouldn’t do it again in a hurry.

I got into the Sound of Mull but the tide was against me and there was still plenty wind whipping the now shallow waves in my face. It took another 6 hours to get up to Salen Bay where I am now camping.

I guess I’m back in the saddle now.