Round Arran On Cloud Nine 

Friday 8^th June 2018

On almost any day of the year there is sure to be someone circumnavigating Arran.  They may be walking the Coastal Way, negotiating the road’s ups-and-downs by bike, car or bus, or perhaps paddling a kayak.  One bright morning recently we decided to see how long it would take to circumnavigate the island on Cloud Nine, a 6.3 metre RiB, anti-clockwise and sticking to a steady 18 knots.

We leave Lochranza pontoon on a high tide having enjoyed breakfast at the Sandwich Station. Pulling out into the choppy waves and invigorating breeze of the Kilbrannan Sound we turn south-west, passing Catacol’s white cottages tucked like toy houses under the bulky rounded hills of the north-west of the island. If we see any floating plastic, we lean over the side and pick it up.

From a sea level point-of-view you can truly appreciate what a mountainous island Arran is, with its settlements squeezed onto narrow shelves of flat land. You also realise how there is a great deal of impenetrable terrain on the island, with steep rocky wooded cliffs tumbling into the sea, so steep in fact that it makes you wonder however anyone ever imagined a road round the edge might be  possible. You also realise that this is an entirely lovely island and scenic from whichever degree you look at it from.

You would not choose a RiB ride for comfort- it can be jarring and you are exposed to the weather-  but RiBs are strong and stable on the water. It is best, even on a hot day, to wear warm protective gear because hypothermia sneaks up on you unawares. A hat or cap and sunglasses are essential. In colder weather we wear immersion suits.

On the RiB dashboard is a chart plotter with down-view depth sonar. The graphs on the screen enable the driver to see the shape and depth of the seabed. Round the coast the seabed is treacherously uneven with underwater volcanic dykes jutting out from the land a particular hazard. We look out for marker buoys and cardinal markers which are placed to guide shipping. When you go right up to them you find they have intriguing names such as Iron Rock Ledges. We also look out for lobster buoys so that their ropes do not get tangled in our propeller. We let Belfast Coastguard know about our voyages and can communicate with them by radio if necessary.

Reaching the point where the Kilbrannan Sound opens out into the North Channel the sun is rising higher and sunlight flashes off the waves. The new distillery stands high on the island’s south-west corner . Northern Ireland is a misty line on the horizon, the surprising pyramid of Ailsa Craig ahead. Whenever I see this giant rock, it is always rising eerily out of the mist. The gannets are diving.

When you want to make landfall, a RiB needs a sandy sloping beach to pull upon or a pontoon.  Arriving in sheltered Lamlash Bay we pull up beside the harbour wall but need to keep a close eye on the boat due to the falling tide. We couldn’t possibly pass the Old Pier Tearoom without calling in though.

After Lamlash, we are in the Firth of Clyde – one of the most famous maritime routes in the world. It’s flat calm on this side of the island, the sea more like a lagoon, and it’s much easier to see wildlife. Approaching the last lap of the Sannox- Lochranza coast, the mountains of Glen Sannox look like one of Tolkein’s mythical landscapes. And right at that moment we hear the puff and hiss of vigorous blowing through air holes and see five big broad black gleaming backs gliding purposefully north through the water, their fins thin and upright like sea-tattered masts. We turn off the engine and keep our distance. We don’t know what these creatures are but think they could be minke whales. Cloud nine indeed!

 Then it’s back to Lochranza Pontoon where we started. The boat will need a hose down.

 Our circumnavigation was 100km in length and the journey took us three and a half hours.

The Wild Flowers of Arran

  

Long, cold winters can have a silver lining: ice and frost delay the growth of bracken giving wildflowers a longer window of opportunity to bloom in spring. Some of these plants have shared the earth’s history for a very long time. Did you know that the common horsetail grass existed 400 million years ago? I know it now from joining in the Arran Natural History Society’s Wildflower Identification Walk with enthusiastic and very knowledgeable guide Sarah Cowan in lovely Glen Rosa. Sarah began the walk by informing us that she had identified more than three hundred species of plant just in our immediate vicinity.

Sarah’s sharp eyes picked out many wee species flourishing quietly in hidden places. In the past, most of our ancestors would have known the names and properties of a wide array of plants because they had uses. Sarah informed us how bracken was actually encouraged in order to make potash for whitening linen, as well as stuffing bedding and making glass. Ribwort plantain was rubbed on the skin to be a midge repellent and fragrant valerian was used as an aid to sleep. Bog myrtle still makes a delicious but highly intoxicating beer whilst ling heather can be a great pan scrubber. Distinguishing your heathers can help you keep your feet dry on a hill walk because bright bell heather’s roots form a mat which stops you sinking into bog.

It is always surprising to learn how much the wild landscapes of Britain and their ecology have been influenced by human beings. Sarah told us that the widespread hawthorn was, surprisingly, not native to Arran but introduced at the time of the 18^th century enclosures as a means to demarcate land. Brambles and rosehips are likely to be found growing where cottage gardens used to be, as well as hazel for building. Nettles nearly always flag up a place where humans have been active in the past.

To appreciate the beauty and variety of wildflowers you have to look closely and attentively. Apparently, in the Gaelic some grass names are described as grey and blue, not green as you might expect. On looking closer, we agreed that some of the grass stems had a grey-blue sheen, begging the question does language respond to what we perceive or is what we perceive determined by language?

As our short walk neared its end we all came to a standstill at the sight of a flowering creamy Scottish burnet rose spreading over the banks of the burn. Sarah said it had not flowered since 1994 and must have benefited from the cold winter and warm, dry spring. Nearby, deep blue milkwort, bright pink lousewort and sky-blue germander speedwell were bright splashes in the grass attracting the pollinators as well as the insect-eating butterwort and delicate heath spotted orchids. All this natural treasure on a slow stroll of a few hundred metres!