Treasna na dTonnta

"So you guys are going to go way over to the Blaaasket Islands in those little boats and your going to sleep in little tents ... by choice! " said our horrified fellow American lodgers as we all ate breakfast at our Ventry B&B overlooking a grey and misty Dingle Bay. The pair of tourists could not be convinced of the wonders of a Sea Kayaking weekend on the magical Blasket Islands that awaited us.

The Blasket Islands located South West of the Dingle Peninsula in Kerry are the most westerly in continental Europe. 215 people lived on the islands earlier this century but abandoned them in 1954 and now only a few Summer homes are found on the Great Blasket. The plan for this sea meet was to paddle from Coumeenoole, which provided the closest put in point and camp on the Great Blasket; beyond that, the weekends adventures would depend on the usual variables of the groups abilities and wishes and sea and weather conditions.

Saturday morning and the group of eleven paddlers and sole support group member, Marie Keaney, are gathered above the beach of Coumeenoole. The cool, dull and misty weather combined with a beach which is now beginning to surf, makes us lose a bit of momentum. Paul and Eileen decide that it’s a good time to tuck into bowls of Muesli, Stan shares a lament over his unexpected discovery of a rare breed of nocturnal speed cop only to be found in the South West. Eventually getting on the water is an unavoidable topic and Mary suggests the beach at Clogher as an alternative put in point. Clogher had been seen to be calm the evening before while Coumeenoole was still surfey. The group didn't take much convincing on this new arrangement and headed for Clogher.

"I swear it was lovely yesterday!" pleads Mary as we all look on in horror at the gigantic waves moving in on Clogher Beach. We watch for a while and with relief notice definite lulls in the wave activity. Eventually the boats are loaded and we're ready to launch. Timing is everything. One by one we head out into the raging sea each of us convincing ourselves that we've cracked the wave pattern code and a dry and upright start to our trip has to be assured. Man pitted against nature and nature usually wins and so it was for us as the waves managed to pluck a couple of paddlers from boats plus the odd cap, map, water bottle, Lion Bar etc. etc.

After our exciting start we are travelling SW down the mainland coast on a North making tide and make use of the clockwise eddy at Duncaoin Bay to help propel us across the sound. Conditions for this stage are perfect with the sea bouncing along and the sun burning through the mist. As we approach Dunmore Head, however, the mist thickens again and the Great Blasket, despite its greatness and relatively close proximity (2km) is nowhere to be seen. We take a compass bearing and Des gives a couple of good leadership instructions ... " stick together and if we don’t see the island in twenty minutes we're turning back. " Just before time is up the Great Blasket does a definite 'peek a boo' through the clearing mist ... Game on! Shortly we are near enough to see both pier and beach ... pier or beach; pier or beach ... decision time again. The pier looks too much like work, the beach looks easy; we head for the beach and the unloading ceremony begins.

Perched above the beach, every tent has a room with a view ... of the spectacular Atlantic Ocean backed by the undulating Kerry coastline. The late afternoon sees the more energetic of the group head off to sea again for a circumnavigation of the Island while the rest of us go walking along the islands now overgrown roadways.

The walk provided us with fantastic views, the sight of several dolphins feeding just off the Southern shore, a meeting with the café manager/ island house restorer / builder/ hostel warden/ tractor driver from Kilkenny with a distinct American accent and the island weaver who now resides in a tiny stone house by herself for most of the year. As we admired her equally tiny 2 by 3 ft. garden enclosed by wire meshing to protect it from the islands prolific rabbit population she told us that her brave little vegetable patch had been under attack by a most unexpected force. ... the Gardai!!!! The Kerry Drug Squad had seemingly decided that a large cannabis plantation was thriving on the Island and duly hired out a boat for £500 to carry out a dawn raid. Nothing was found but one determined Garda swiped a bunch of fennel from her garden plot for "closer analysis back at HQ"!!!!

Evening now as we make our way back to the tents and we spot the others making their way on to the beach. A good trip by all accounts although a little 'bumpy' on the NW side.

Time for dinner and it's a case of Delia Smith watch out 'cause you 'ain't seen notin' like what we can cook up over one little bitty flame ... well there is Chilli con Carne, Ratatouille, Ravioli, followed by Carmel Squares and Rice Crispy buns provided by our very own Sugar Daddy ... Declan. Well, Declans good wife really ... she's now on the SKA honours list!! Our groups other no. 1 supporter, Marie, then produces Swiss roll chocolate birthday cake with candles!!! to celebrate Clare's imminent entry into the 30 something's club. The chatting continues by the light of a single candle until midnight . . . nothing but rabbits to burn for a campfire here!

A beautiful Sunday morning and the sun outside drives even the laziest amongst us, i.e. me, out of our tents by 9.30 am. The plan is to paddle to Inishtooskert .. the Sleeping Giant .. just 5km to the NW of us and from there back to Clogher. Again paddling conditions are perfect and as we skirt between the Long Rock and Oilean Bui we hear the lonely lament of seals basking on the rocks, camera shy they slip into the sea as we approach them. Closer to Inistooskert and we are joined on the sea by Puffins and Razorbills. As we stare up at the steep flagstone sided island, the closet plastic kayak coveters among us, volunteer the owners of same, to make an attempt at a landing. We, the proud owners of our "plastics" however, decline as we are not to be convinced by the enticing words of the right honourable Dave Walsh, author of Oilean, being quoted to us stating that the "island well repays the effort of landing" ! Are you sane Dave !! Get your own "plastics" the rest of ye!!!

We paddle to the northern tip of the Island and then turn east for home. The sea rolls us along on its high back and an hour and a half later we are making our approach into Clogher Bay. The shallower sea creates an ever steeper swell and as we begin to let ourselves imagine what type of landing awaits us at Clogher beach the chatter trickles off and hearts pound a little more quickly . The swell picks each of us up in turn as though toying with us, deciding which one of us it would choose this time for a dunking. Only when we are almost at the end of the bay does it become clear to us that the most protected NW end of the beach has only a gentle surf and the sea was to let us away with it this time.

On the beach the sunbathers and tourists come over to us for a closer look, they are envious of our adventure ... imagine, "You guys have gone way over to the Blaaasket Islands in those little boats and you slept in little tents overlooking the wild Atlantic ocean ... wow !!!!"

October Bank Holiday and the Symposium Show heads for Baltimore. A huge amount of work has been put in by Brian Ormond and he’s put together an excellent programme as you can see below.

We’re delighted to have some of Irish paddlings best known names, Stephen Hannon, Robin Ruddock and Kevin O’Callaghan to lead trips and give their advice.

On the water, there’ll be full day trips and half day trips in both rough and smooth water. There’s a night paddle on beautiful Lough Hyne and a chance to try Valley Canoes and Greenland paddles and also a beginners trip for those who have never paddled before.

On shore, there are lectures and demos on kayak building, technology, whales, cooking and first aid while outside, there are walks, sailing, diving and bird ringing.

Night time isn’t forgotten either but then, night time is never forgotten at a symposium! We’ve two speakers on Saturday night – Dorena Tully on the Working Boats of Ireland and our own Robin Ruddock on his trip to the wilds of Patagonia. Sunday night will see David Walsh doing a table quiz in the pub – he’s been working on the questions for months so you can bet that there’ll be some sneaky ones to catch you out!

Almost all available places are gone so do get your application form in as soon as possible. There’s a copy included with the newsletter. See you there!

"The humour of the North is puzzling, and I do not feel that I understand it."

Sean O’Faolain (An Irish Journey)

Rathlin, the largest Island off the coast Northern Ireland lies in the North Channel, two miles across Rathlin Sound from the great Dolerite cliffs of Fair Head and only fifteen miles from the Mull of Kintyre in Scotland. (tempting for a future trip) Cliffs often sheer form about ninety per cent of its inverted L shaped coastline, around which flow some of the strongest tidal streams and overfalls found anywhere in the British Isles. Oileáin tells us – Rathlin is a challenging paddle even for the experienced, and careful planning is required. David Hughes had agreed to lead the trip, and we were very grateful for the preparation and organisation he undertook before hand. Trip details including the all important start time were posted well in advance on the ISKA Web Page, all we now needed was a favourable weather forecast and the early indications looked good.

Accommodation at the Sheep Island Hostel, Ballintoy was available for Friday night – bunkhouse or camping. A contingent from Annalong decided to make use of the bunkhouse at the very friendly and well run hostel. On our arrival we noticed a large sign beside the bunkhouse which said POOL. As we were getting established two elderly ladies with towels and swimming costumes enquired where the POOL was? We informed them it was downstairs, however earlier investigations had revealed the ladies would be better off equipped with chalk and a cue.

A pleasant evening was spent in the Fullerton Arms Hotel then back to the hostel for a good nights sleep. Five minutes after the light went out and the room was vibrating like the engine room on the Titanic, before it hit the iceberg. Fergal was the first to crack opting to sleep outside under the stars, Mike was next and made his way downstairs for a secluded night beside the POOL.

In the morning the remaining bodies all claimed innocence, not hearing a snore and sleeping soundly.

By 8.00am Des Keaney has joined us for breakfast having left Co. Wicklow in the early hours of the morning. At the picturesque Ballintoy Harbour the team begins to come together, a total of twelve kayakers including ISKA training officer Mary Butler and local paddler Robin Ruddock who brings a wealth of local knowledge and experience. Earlier in the week the forecast had looked very promising with a high pressure system establishing itself over Ireland, unfortunately it was now sitting to the South West and the updated forecast was giving F 5-6 ENE winds moderating later.

The plan was to leave Ballintoy Harbour and use the last few hours of the flood tide to paddle down to Bull Point at the west end of the island, then along the north coast, arriving at Altnacarry Head at slack, allowing us to slip round to Portawhillan on the east coast before the Macdonnell Race started to work against us. F 5-6 wind against the east going flood tide was going to produce a lively sea and marginal conditions for the crossing to Bull Point. In the car park above the harbour paddlers were busy with that perennial problem of fitting all that vital kit into hatches, giving the occasional nervous glance out to sea which was indeed looking lively. A team photograph and a call to Belfast Coastguard and we were off.

There was very little time to adjust to conditions as we were quickly crossing the tide race which accelerates around Sheep Island half a mile outside Ballintoy Harbour. Keeping twelve kayakers together in these conditions was impossible and the team rapidly split into smaller groups for the duration of the crossing. Stories of air strokes, sliding down steep faces and bracing frantically into breaking waves were shared when the team reassembled in the sheltered waters below Bull Point. In actual fact the demanding conditions lasted for about fifteen minutes until we were through the race and able to relax and enjoy the magnificent situation. East to the climbers mecca Fair Head, west to Benbane Head and the Giants Causeway and north to Islay and Jura.

From Bull Point to Ruecallen at the west of the island is a truly spectacular location dominated by the unique lighthouse built below the top of the cliff and with an amazing concentration and variety of birdlife. Off the point a strong tide race was churning away but closer in we were able to paddle below the spectacular cliffs and sea stacks where countless numbers of guillemots, razorbills, kittewakes, shags and everyone’s favourite, puffins nest. The antics of the young guillemots was particularly enjoyable, unable to fly properly they would flap their wings frantically and bounce from wave crest to wave crest, sometimes over kayaks and on the odd occasion into them.

The north coast of the island does have a very remote and exposed atmosphere, continuous dark cliffs with the occasional storm beach. It was here that the master of salvage came into his own. Robin paddling in close searching the storm beaches for flotsam, and a very fertile ground it proved to be – floats, buoys and fenders of all shapes and sizes were gathered and added to Robin’s collection.

Exploring the stacks, observing birdlife and collecting salvage had slowed our progress with the result the tide had started to ebb. This is not a problem on the north side of the island as it always flows west – east and by staying close to the cliffs we were able to make good use of the ebb eddy, however this still left us with the problem of Altnacarry Head and the Macdonnell Race. As we approached the north east corner of the island we could see the race was already charging past like a big volume grade 4 river. Due to the lack of any significant swell we were able to stay tight to the headland where the flow was not quite as strong. Ten minutes of hard paddling brought us round Altnacarry Head past Bruce’s Cave and Castle to the sheltered water and the slip at Portawillin for a well deserved late lunch stop.

A relaxing lunch followed, in fact so relaxing we decided we had done enough for the day and would set up camp for the night. A very social afternoon was spent around the tents with the old salts reliving and embellishing previous trips, while the close proximity of Scotland led to a variety of plans being hatched for trips later in the summer. Conversation is thirsty work, so the venue was changed to Church Bay.

Rathlin… Continued from previous page

There we visited the new information centre, the recently refurbished manor house now a hostel and eventually to McCuaig’s Bar.

McCuaigs Bar

As a seasoned beachcomber over the years Robin has gathered an impressive collection of bones. This led to the story of the Sperm Whale, the Zebra and the Tiger, apparently buried side by side in the council dump at Coleraine. The Zebra escaped from the circus and fell off Portrush pier, the Tiger died of old age in the Causeway Safari Park and the Sperm whale was washed up on Portstewart beach – it’s the way he tells them!

Back at Portawillin it was time to eat again. A variety of culinary delights were produced including lightweight dehydrated meals, pre cooked stews, spaghetti bolognese and sausage ,beans and spuds. Des added a touch of class to the proceedings by producing his camping wine goblet (complete with screw in stem) and a bottle of Shiraz Cabernet.

Robin had obviously decided there was more salvage to be gathered and with Richard paddled back around Altnacarry Head to scour the storm beaches. The rest of the team walked to the remains of Bruce’s Castle, perched on the edge of the cliff above the famous cave, on to the east lighthouse, one of three on the island and finally back to McCuaig’s where we had some unfinished business. The 8.00pm forecast had given a strong wind warning for coastal waters from Carlingford Lough to Malin Head – ENE. F6-7 decreasing by the morning E. F5-6. As we walked contentedly back from McCuaig’s the wind was already beginning to pick up.

By morning, as forecast, the wind had decreased in strength and the sea was looking manageable. The ebb tide which would take us back to Ballintoy Harbour was not due to start running until 1.30pm,so with plenty of time to spare Chris and myself set about preparing a massive breakfast. From the biggest lunchbox I have ever seen, stowed neatly behind the seat of his kayak, Chris produced soda and potato bread, bacon, sausages, eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes. Now I knew why his boat had been sitting so low in the water. We were away by 11.00am paddling down the east side of the island towards Rue Point and the third and least spectacular of the lighthouses. In front of us across Rathlin Sound we had an excellent view of Fair Head, the extensive cliffs looking like the ramparts of a crusaders castle. We stayed close to shore and avoided the main flow which was working against us, slipping past Rue Point inside the Slough-na-more overfalls and into quieter waters sheltered from the east wind. Still having time to spare before the tide started to ebb, we paddled into Church Bay and past the cardinal mark that indicates the wreck of the W.W.1 Cruiser the Drake. Before crossing back to the mainland we land below the chalk cliffs on the southern shore for a snack. Willie who has been concerned about the amount of water finding it’s way into his boat realises the outlet pipe for his pump has split. Out comes the repair kit and the problem is soon fixed.

With the tide now ebbing we decide to cross Rathlin Sound, not directly back to Ballintoy but via Carrick-a-rede with it’s famous rope bridge connecting it to the mainland. Again we split into smaller groups and enjoy the lively but helpful conditions of a following sea plus the push of the tide. In mid channel a whale (Minke?) cruises past just in front of me. It turns out that nobody else saw it and doubts are expressed as to what I actually did see?

Off Carrick-a-rede the tide is flowing strongly and we have to paddle hard to get inside to the rope bridge. At high water there is just enough water to paddle underneath, but not today and we portage our boats and meet up with the others who paddled the short distance around the island. From here it is a straightforward paddle inside Sheep Island back to Ballintoy Harbour but some of the team decide to take a closer look at the tide race which is working well off Sheep Island. A bit of a sea kayak rodeo follows with Bob, James and Fergal strutting their stuff on the steep confused waves. At this stage, two hours into the ebb, the Sheep Island race is an excellent training ground, although Robin did reckon it would get very big later in the tide.

Back at Ballintoy and hatches are already being emptied and equipment stowed away. All in all a very successful trip both socially and for the challenging nature of the conditions which everyone had enjoyed and handled well. Thanks again to David for organising the trip and to Des for the idea. So what is next – Inistrahull?

Day 46 I noted mentally as I awoke from a most pleasant sleep. Not the fastest passage ever around the Emerald Isle but it had been memorable. The birds as usual were singing their heads off and I mentally ticked off the species as I lay in the warm comfort. Another lovely morning to enjoy. We had been lucky with the weather and as we pushed further south the northerly breeze was easing daily. It was nearly summer time!

Our morning routine clicked into gear and we decided our day over breakfast. We passed Guns Island to seaward and the passage down to St. John’s Point was painless and pleasant. Very little stirred on the seas off Ardglass or Killough but noted mentally that Ardglass had honeycomb block sea defences. I had read about such constructions but they were my first ‘live ones’ as it were. As we arrived at St.John’s Point, the view across the broad sweep of Dandruff Bay opened up. I like the aspect and feel of this place with its beautiful backdrop of Slieves Donard and Bearnagh. We pulled into a narrow slot beside a small pier under the lighthouse for a leisurely brew-up. I was beginning to notice that everything was becoming leisurely. The days were easing by and the pressures of the south and west coasts already seemed to have occurred years before. I was aghast that my memory banks were busily sorting and sifting away the entire trip and leaving me with mere snippets. The big moments were clear but things were beginning to fuse…Old age boy!

Over lunch the point foremost in both our minds was the crossing of Dundrum Bay. Neither of us was looking forward to it. I certainly had reached the point when another open sea crossing was not very appealing. However as a good friend of mine would have put it, ‘There is something in every day’ so we got on with the job.

The tidal drop at St. John’s was rapid and we had a bit of a carry to get launched again. A long haul across the bay. Des went to seaward I took the inside passage and we both found it tedious. A party of Manx Shearwater, a sleepy Gannet and a few Guillemots did their best to enliven the trip. It seemed and age before Slieve Donard passed to starboard and the point north of Annalong was definitely floating away southwards all day!

The day grew warm, warmer, hot and hotter and still maddeningly the point grew no closer. It is funny how days of calm seas and lazy thunder conditions can make sea miles well earned. I reflected on this business of sea kayaking when the sea, the wind and the sea conditions are ever perfect and the mind keeps battling against whatever is not right. I was letting my mind wander all afternoon. I seemed to have hours to think! I was maximum two days from completing the trip and it all had an unreal feel to it. I was unbelieving. I was in two minds - one eager to ‘knock the bugger off’ and one not wanting it to end. Strange! It had been for me a great adventure. I had pushed out my learning curve and now I wanted to push it out some more. Something even more challenging but…

A flash of a fin interrupted my thoughts and I stared into the glare to try and identify the beast. A lone Common Porpoise played ‘try and catch me’ for a minute or two but I was not playing today. Somewhere about a mile short of Annalong I noticed a blob out to sea, somewhere out there ahead of us. I paid no great attention to it and decided to get even with that Porpoise and get a good look at it. No joy! That kind of day.

I glance out towards Des. Oh B…. I thought he is coming at me his paddles are flaying madly and he is no longer beam on. Oh oh I thought there is going to be a row, as I knew that I had been guilty of wandering off the transit and that we have been apart a bit too long. I look again and finally discern that the previous blob is in fact a paddler and Des is going away out to sea to intercept. The Annalong boys! I carve a turn and pump it out for a few minutes cynically noting that "there is plenty of life in you now boy"!

Mike Barton had come out to welcome us and we both really appreciated the gesture. We followed Mike back to his house landed and fell in to more great hospitality. We had a most pleasant evening of chat, shared experiences, showers, and best of all, a real bed!

I really enjoyed the evening. Mike is a tough, fit mountaineer, fell-runner and sea-kayaker and he along with two others Stephen Campbell and Bobbie Graham were due to set out on their Round Ireland expedition on July 1^st. It was stimulating to talk with Mike and particularly novel to be questioned and teased about my writing of our trip with theirs so close at hand. I retired satisfied that Yes there was something in the day! We had been made feel very welcome our passage through the north of Ireland had been full of good moments and wonderful hospitality.

Incredibly..I lay awake at dawn as light streamed through an east-facing window. I could not regain that beautiful relaxed mode and I lay there ‘fooling’ myself that I may just gain another hour. I had slept well and as soon as I got up I felt jaded! I found Mike already pottering about drinking coffee and looking at a mirror calm sea. I found myself nearly wishing for a good old western swell. These were paddling conditions I would just have to get used to!

A long leisurely breakfast followed and Mike went off to raise David Hughes and Stephen Campbell to paddle down the coast with us. I sorted out the gear for what would now be the penultimate day of the trip. Des and I had agreed to get to Clogherhead, which would leave a final day of only 15 miles or so.

The Annalong boys and ourselves headed towards the Free State in perfect warm sunny calm conditions. The crossing of Carlingford Lough I found interesting. The tide was just starting to ebb and we had to ferry glide to gain Ballaghan Point on the southern side. The lighthouse in mid-channel was far more interesting a building than I had thought. Lovely construction and another day I reckoned to have a good look at it.

We landed in the Republic and within 5 minutes of starting lunch the heavens opened. "Welcome back lads" both Des and I thought as the last rain we had seen was leaving Donegal to cross the Foyle! Our intended long lunch and banter with Mike, Stephen and David was very suddenly ended in the downpour and everyone scattered to the boats.

We waved them farewell and we started across Dundalk Bay. It was not as bad as we had anticipated. There was even some seabird life to keep us going and we talked and chatted our way towards Clogherhead. Des’s wife Marie had anticipated our movements well and we arrived to a very welcome can of beer! It was late enough on a Sunday evening and a mad frantic hour followed attempting to find a place to eat. In the end we travelled to the Monasterboice Inn and had a fine meal. Eric arrived to join us and congratulate us both and I began to feel that "yes, the job is nearly done". I felt a sense of immense satisfaction creep over me. I camped at Clogherhead out of a sense of tribute and duty to all. I lay awake as the rain lashed the tent for quite a while willing the whole trip to come back but of course I fell asleep.

My sleep had been shattered somewhere about 4.00am when a few ‘boy racers’ decided that they would use the local car-park as a racing circuit specialising in hand-brake turns.

"Crazy buggers" I thought and actually got up to watch. They were unsure of their audience however and did a quick exit. I returned to bed but of course the damage was done and I listened to the calls of various migrating birds all about.

I had the unique experience this morning of being collected by Marie for breakfast and brought back to the B&B that she and Des stayed in overnight. The landlady had insisted that I was in need of a proper breakfast! So I tucked in and savoured the moment. It was moments like these that had made the trip special. The warmth of people all over Ireland had not surprised me but I found being the recipient of such acts very humbling and all the more special when they were completely unexpected. We talked a long breakfast with John whose passion for fishing trout of Lough Mask kept me enthralled. Totally stuffed, we made our way back to Clogherhead and the final day.

It rained, but I reckoned the feel of cold wet neoprene for one last day would not kill me. Once on the water the rain stopped and on rounding the headland to look at the long beaches of Louth and Meath, the wind turned southerly for our pleasure! After our week of following winds we had the audacity to find this totally unacceptable! We pulled inshore to avoid the hardship and dragged our way down what must be one of Ireland’s least memorable coastlines. We ambled our way to the Mouth of the Boyne and snacked in the lee of the main beacon. The views south were all so familiar, the Skerries islands and Rockabill, my training ground. A swamped car abandoned on the beach at Laytown gave us some amusement as I positioned the kayak on the bonnet for a photo opportunity.

The final leg to Skerries went by in a semi-dream. I felt I should have been more excited. I just felt satisfied. I think the breaking of the trip into several different parts had taken the ‘end’ of expedition feeling from it somewhat. I was rather sad it was all over. A challenge had been realised. I had learned a huge amount about all types of things. I had thoroughly enjoyed it. The hardship, the physical effort, the pain in the mornings and the mental discipline had been a serious battle. The beauty, the wildness and the natural world were the bonus. On top of all that were the people and I think it was my encounters with people on my journey around Ireland that will stay with me the longest. I had achieved a very personal ambition of some significance and I felt deeply satisfied. What was now cooking on the old backboiler was a huge desire to build on it!

Landfall at Skerries was greeted by all the girls – my wife Ann, her sister Ruth, my daughter Rhona, Marie and Geraldine Bracken (All unsung heroines of my trip). Marie cracked open a bottle of Champagne and a little celebration was had on the beach. Des stuck his big mauler into mine and we shook warmly. It was a very special moment.

As more people arrived we retired to Joe Mays the scene of where it all began…..!

At some stage over the last or so, you may have heard something new is happening at Tiglin, National Mountain & White water Centre. A strategic partnership between the Mountaineering Council of Ireland and the Irish Canoe Union led to the forming of the Irish Adventure Sports Training Trust. IASTT now owns Tiglin and there is an exciting new feel to Tiglin.

On the Canoeing side of things, Jon Hynes was appointed Director of Canoeing last autumn and is responsible for all Canoeing activity at the Centre. Jon has been Instructing in various Centres throughout Ireland over the last few years and although White Kayaking and Safety is his main skill he is also an avid Sea Kayaker. The Centre has also just recruited a new Instructor, Sinead Pollock who is also a keen Sea Kayaker from Co. Cork.

This year the Centre has run numerous successful courses in various areas of Canoe sport. The White Water courses are by now growing in popularity all the time and this Summer Jon and his team ran two very successful Alpine White Water courses.

So what does Tiglin have to offer Sea Kayakers in Ireland? This summer the Centre ran a number of very well attended Sea Kayaking courses. In particular, In July 10 people attended an Introduction to Sea Kayaking course and after an adventurous weekend under the expert tuition of Stephen Hannon and Paul Durnan, many of those who attended are now taking the sport further. Next it was off to Killary and its surrounding area in August for a weekend of Intermediate skills. Jon, Sinead, Paul and Ruth Bracken provided a course full of Navigation skills, strokes, safety, touring and an exciting night paddle. The weekend was blessed with a mix of excellent Sea Kayaking weather. 8 people attended the course and are now looking to get their own Kayaks and paddle with other ISKA members.

And now the Centre is expanding its range of courses for next year. The 2001 Tiglin brochure will be launched at the Mars Sports show at the Point Depot on October 7th & 8th and it contains a number of exciting courses for all levels of Sea Kayaker. Why come along and visit the stand and meet the Staff from Tiglin.

On the weekend of October 21st & 22nd, Tiglin is running a weekend of Navigation skills, Night Nav and Safety skills in the Kinsale Harbour area. Aside from the instructional aspect of the course, a trip around the Old Head of Kinsale is on the cards, weather permitting. The course is open to those with a reasonable amount of Sea Kayaking skills and basic Navigation knowledge. You can find out more about the course by phoning or emailing Jon at 0404-40169 / mail@tiglin.ie

If you are looking for Training in other areas, Tiglin can organise and run courses outside of calendar dates. It is also now offering a private guiding service, so if you have a trip you'd like to organise and need some help, why not try Tiglin.

Marc Jegou of River Ocean Kayak in Ballyvaughan is replacing his fleet of Polyform sea kayaks this autumn.

The boats available are Shorelines, suitable for the medium to small paddler and Skyros, which are suitable for the larger paddler. He also has one of those very rare commodities, a double sea kayak for sale. The singles cost less than £800 and all are in excellent condition. Contact Marc on 065 7077043 or marc@jegou.net

We all meet at Seán Pierces house in Skerries in the evening to tie on boats on Josie Gibbons van. Seán's family has been evicted from their rooms so that we all can have beds for the night and be up at 6.00am.

We are on the road by 7.00am and with no idea of where we would be paddling the next day. Weather would be one determining factor and after that who knows? Paul Durnan produced a book on loan from Stan Pearson, from amidst all his laminated maps and charts. The book entitled "The Scottish Islands" gave plenty of inspiration to Seán as he read snippets from the rear seat… now known as the vans library, as we journey onwards to Belfast.

Ferry to Stranraer and then by van, to Oban, driven by Josie Gibbons. We began plotting our paddling course. Mull, Outer Hebrides, Gulf of Corryvreckan, The Garvellachs all got fair mention. I didn't mind, I just wanted to sea kayak in Scotland… well I wasn't to keen on The Gulf of Corryvreckan as it has huge tidal races and I prefer to see the Scottish Coast from my boat rather than becoming part of the sights. Eventually, we settled on the Outer Hebrides.

On the road again, we head for the ferry port of Mallaig. We stopped in Fort William and buy maps. Onward to Mallaig and relief all round as we book with "Caledonian MacBrayne Ferries" to take van and all to Barra Island that evening and return us to Oban on Tuesday week.

We boarded the "Lord of the Isles" and had the most scenic ferry crossing as we sailed out passed the Inner Hebrides… Eigg, Rhum and Canna with Skye in the distance. The five hour crossing flew as we were entertained by many porpoises and Atlantic white sided dolphins, a Minke whale, a basking shark and an array of sea birds including skuas, gannets, fulmars and Manx Shearwater all identified by our private ornithologist, Seán. Red deer were also spotted on the skyline at Rhum.

We docked at Castlebay, the main village on Barra (Barr: 6^th century saint), at 10.00pm. We headed west to set up camp and we laze about around Des and Seán's candle lanterns until midnight.

Breakfast at 8.00am and we discuss plans for the day. We pile everything back into Josies van and away to Castlebay. Shops are spotted and the last few bits of groceries are bought. It is time to load up the boats and leave the luxury of the van behind.

Sailors from the yachts come ashore to collect supplies. They are intrigued, as they watch us squash food, clothes and bits and pieces into the hatches. The operation takes two hours to complete and I still cannot fit the flask and water bottle. Des to the rescue… he has loads of room. (In hindsight, maybe I could have jettisoned some food but mmnn …food???).

One last visit to the ladies, phone calls made and police notified and it's show time! The tide has dropped at the slipway so it's time to call the Cavalry… a four man carry of each boat to the water… a system to be employed throughout the trip.

We leave the bay and at last the kayaks are on Scottish water. Seán cannot believe that now his twenty five-year-old dream is being realised. He looks a bit like the cat that got the cream. We leave Barra Island to the rear and round Vatersay (Fathers Island), through Ceolas Shandraigh (the sound of Sandray or Sand Island). The weather is fair; some drizzle and some sunshine with a F3-4 wind on our sides. I finally reach the lads who have steamed ahead and as I break into my fruit pastille supply, Seán philosophises … "Character building stuff! "

At Bioruaslum, at Vatersay, we find a huge slit in the headland and on paddling through we get shelter. We plough on passed last nights' campsite and search all the nooks and crannies looking for a natural arch marked on the map, but no joy. We make for a beach tucked in under the hill at Beinn Chliaid, our campsite for the night. Seán heads in first as becomes tradition to inspect the lay of the land and make peace with the natives. He gets permission from the local crofter to camp and after a 23km paddle, the arduous trek up the beach begins.

Late risers, with dodging the ebb tide as the excuse. Josie and Seán have gone on a short hike and on their return, Seán spots a golden eagle flying high above us. The Golden Eagle is a resident of the Highlands and breeds in the Hebrides: elsewhere in the British Isles, it has vanished. Enough delaying tactics, it's time to get on the water.

The boats are loaded and we head off, surfing on to Gob Sgurabhal. The lads are surfing every wave but my boat is reluctant to surf or maybe it's the pilot. Wind is blowing F4 on our backs and I'm beginning to get my sea legs. We paddle on through An Caolas Fiarach past the island of Fuday (Outside Is.) heading for Eriskay (Goblin or Water Nymph Is.) for lunch. With the mention of lunch, the sun appeared as it does for all of our lunch stops, no matter what the time (sometimes much later than I'd be used to).

The greyhounds rev up a gear and fade into the distance. Up until this, I had focused my eyes on the four kayaks in front of me and did not see the spectacular scenery that surrounded me, as I tried to keep pace. I soon realised that there was no point. I'd never catch them and anyway, they always waited on me at some strategic point. I then began to look around me; and it's jade coloured seas, blue skies and sunshine with little green islands all around as we approach Eriskay. No photograph could capture it.

I was glad to see the four silhouetted sea kayaks being hauled in… lunch at the beach and a chance to explore this picturesque place. We set the laundry to dry in the sun as we sheltered in the rocks to dine. The lads headed on "a tour of the island", a phrase which I later found out when roughly translated from the Gaelic means " we're off to find the pub! ".

I stayed at the beach and braved the sea for a dip as my hopes of finding a shower that day faded. A helicopter disrupts the scene as it carries dynamite to blast rock to be used to build a causeway connecting Eriskay and South Uist (Uist=West).

The intrepid explorers return and admit to getting a seat in the local pub "Am Politician"; named after the ship that sank in 1941. Many of the natives did time in prison for salvaging some of the cargo… whiskey… and hence the book/film "Whiskey Galore". They met Kathleen, who is married to a native man and after finding out their breed seed and generation, she invites them to attend the church fund raising Céili in the community centre next Saturday. This church has an alter with a base made from the bow of a lifeboat from the aircraft carrier, Hermes and a bell from a German battleship, The Defflinger.

It is time to push on and head for our destination for the night, Lochboisdale on the western side of the island of South Uist. We pull in front of the hotel and Seán does the needful in asking permission to camp. We end up at the bar of this hotel, discussing plans for the next day. I've found showers beside the tourist office, so I know my plans!

We're up early and the weather is great except for the wind and the tide is flowing in the wrong direction for us. So it's showers all round and a chance to top up water supplies. Des tries to find the annoying leak in his boat while the others go in search of the elusive white tailed eagle.

The wind calms so we are back afloat by 4.00pm. We leave the shelter of Lochboisdale and head through Camas Sliginis with Stulaigh Island to the east. There are so many jellyfish here; you cannot avoid hitting them with your paddle. I chance sticking my hand in to get a photograph. As the weather is good, we paddle past our original destination, Loch Aineort. We pause at Rubha Na Sheileasdail to regroup and Seán is waiting with wine gums and announces … "Character building stuff!"

Next, we head for Baigh Uisinis. There's not much shelter or help from the tide and I can feel my muscles tire as the lads become dots on the horizon. Only 18km logged and I'm fit for nothing as I reach the others at the storm beach. Josie and Seán had both spotted a small building on the Southwest hill slope and are already away to investigate if it is a bothy. It is and it's like finding a grade A hotel; I had not relished the thoughts of pitching a tent and I don't think any of the others did either.

The interior was well maintained and cosy. Josie got the potbelly stove going and with candles lit, we settle in to our new found home. Those who use the shelter have kept a diary. There are entries made by other sea kayakers on the same route as us, but mostly records of hill walkers. It is a chance to dry out gear again and each is happy to sit to read up on the islands or record the journey so far. Paul produces a bottle of "Havana Club Rum"… 3 year old no less, fresh from Cuba. The fumes of rum and whiskey fill the bothy and disguise the characteristic smell of 3-day-old thermals that flag on lines above the stove. The rain can be heard beating down on the corrugated roof making the bothy an even better find.

There's not a stir in the bothy until 10.00am. Breakfast and then reluctantly we must leave cosy little nest but it takes us until 12.45pm to be ready. Out by Nicolson's Leap and on under Uisinis lighthouse. We investigate a cave here before paddling for two hours along the coast through a myriad of tiny islands.

We stop at Bagh Tholmair for serious lunch with trangias being deployed. An hour later and we are heading for Bagh nam Faoilean. We reach the bay at low tide and yes it is spring tides and there is very little water under us. It is difficult to find a passage through. Des and Josie abandon ship and head southwards on foot leaving Paul to baby-sit the boats. Meanwhile, Seán has taken an alternative route, also by foot but leaving his craft to fend for itself. And that it does as it floats away on its own mission quickly pursued by an Olympic hopeful from Cork.

I have been able to stay in my boat as it is lighter and continue to paddle (food supplies must be running low). I sit and wait on the others… that’s a first! and binge on fruit pastilles. Eventually, I have to give in and join the walkers as we drag the boats in a few inches of water with a bridge in our sights. There's still not much water and Seán suggests we go to the bar in the hotel he has located on the map. But, with the speed that he would down a pint, the tide begins to fill and we can paddle once more. On route to our campsite, we stop to do some shopping at the 'Co-Op'. Four colourful, dripping bodies can be seen tramping up and down shopping aisles, with an unperturbed Co-Op worker, armed with a mop, shadowing us. We camp in the shade of a windmill near Lionacleit with the weather becoming cold and windy. We've reached The Isle of Benbecula (Herdsman's Hill Island or Little Mountain of the Fords). Tents up, dinner on and then of to the bar in the Dark Island Hotel to make plans for tomorrow.

I awake early to the sounds of wind and a roaring sea but I assure myself that both always seem worse when only two layers of fabric separate you from the elements. Josie calls us all at 8.30am. He knows that if we delay this morning, any chance of making our way inside the sand bar at Gualan would be gone. One of the options discussed last night was to follow this route, carry the boats over the road at Clachan in order to reach the fresh water Loch Bi and then paddle in a south westerly direction, through a flood gate to re-enter the sea at Loch Sgiopoirt. We would then be back on the eastern coast of South Uist.

Initial plans of paddling on the western coast were shelved; a westerly wind was blowing and, anyway, the coast is for the most part, beach. Once on the water, one 'Duracel Bunny', namely Seán, can be seen propelling himself at high speed across the now shallow waters. He stops occasionally to do a quick depth check with his paddle. Des, in hot pursuit, can be heard mumbling " this is mad, mad". At about 2km away from the intended destination, the plan is scrapped and a turn about made.

Everyone senses the urgency and with no need for a conference, we each set on a course to the bridge at the causeway. But we're not out of the woods yet; we still have to retrace our route through Bagh nam Faoilean that dries out rapidly as we learned to our disgust yesterday. With wind and tide in our favour, we are surfing where we had walked the previous day. As we head South, it's no fun for Josie who has neither skeg nor rudder, as the wind continues to come from the West.

Des has located an ideal lunch spot near Uisinis lighthouse. We settle in for a much needed respite from the wind at the early lunchtime at 1.50pm, and the sun appears as if on cue. Two hours later and we return to the kayaks!

We get pleasant conditions under the shadow of the lighthouse and past our bothy. But crossing each bay is wearing… more of that character building stuff and Seán produces his wine gum rations. Both Paul and he drop fishing lines and, in a matter of seconds, 4 mackerel and one Pollock surrender themselves for dinner. Meanwhile, Des and Josie come across some shy otters. There's no time to delay to wait for their reappearance as the wind has abated slightly so we must make tracks. Loch Aineort can't be too far away and I'm hoping it's slack tide as the pilot has recorded a 7 knot flow at Sruthan Beag, the narrow opening that will bring us to our final stop for the evening.

We arrive at the entrance and I'm beat. "Only a few K more" are the words of encouragement from Des. Seán advises us to baton down the hatches in preparation for the ferocious tidal flow and he is sent on first, complaining "why me?" in his best Scottish accent. We string cautiously behind him but big disappointment all round…there's hardly any flow at all! We continue on up the sheltered loch and there are about twenty pairs of eyes on us as the curious seals escort us in. We settle on a small piece of land attached to the mainland by seaweed covered rocks and the clatter of Trangias begins. The mist rolls in as does the flooding tide and we are marooned on our island near Calbaigh

.

The wind has died and our island is invaded by that famous tourist attraction, the Scottish Midge. Seán goes for the environmentally friendly option in his defence… a stylish bit of fashion consisting of a complete over the head mesh. Paul and Josie add to the fashion parade with like apparel while Des sports a more sophisticated number with his floppy brimmed hat and all over mesh veil. 35km completed today and I'm ready for an early night.

Our campsite is still an island as we awake on a misty morning. Another day of damp thermals but by now I don't even notice. Just as it's time to take down the tents, the heavens open. I attempt to dismantle mine, inner first and despite assistance from Seán, I end up getting the whole tent soaking wet. There is still no sign of the 7 knot tide or nothing near it as we enter the narrow gap that leads to the open sea. Seán heads on an alternative route following a bird spotted high above us. It circles around and finally lands on the southern slopes of Loch Aineort leading Seán to a great find. The elusive Sea Eagle that he had hoped to see was perched in front of him. This bird is on the verge of extinction but is a scarce resident in the Shetlands and Outer Hebrides.

Onward to Stulaigh through Camas Siginish and then lunch at Calbaigh at the mouth of Lochboisdale, As the mist clears, the rain stops and the sun appears. We the go from headland to headland now in familiar territory yet everything looks different form this direction: Green mountains iced with white fluffy clouds and a blue sky as a backdrop. The scene changes as we cross the channel between South Uist and Eriskay. The head wind is blowing force 4 and the rain is beating down and I fall behind. Des hangs back to keep me company as we paddle towards a sandy beach at Roisinis on Eriskay. Seán has done a quick assessment of the lay of the land and beacons us in to this pretty spot.

Josie and Seán scramble up the hill in search of water from the houses above. They are away along time but all is revealed on their return. The near houses were all abandoned and they had to walk a few km before reaching civilisation. And who lives in the first occupied house, only Kathleen, the woman they had met in The Politician on the previous Tuesday. "Ah your back for the Ceili " says Kathleen. They chat a while, collect water and even negotiate a bath for me!

After dinner, we decide to go to the pub and might even drop in to see the Ceili. Des stays home to keep house while we head over hill and dale, barefooted and trouser legs rolled up to find the green road that leads to the main road. We arrive at the Politician, where the musicians are warming up. Their entourage is warming up too, on Red Bull and Tequila… in pint glasses. The accordion player and bagpiper gather themselves up an hour late for the ceili, and make their way to the community hall in full musical flight. The following group invites us to attend and when we finish our drinks, we go for a look.

On entering the hall, the scene would put images from 'Local Hero' in mind. The parish priest is keeping an eagle eye while the Ladies Committee scurry about with trays. We are noticed by all but in a friendly way and it's not long until they figure out who we are. Some had spotted us earlier coming ashore and Kathleen had explained to more.

An empty table awaits us off the far corner of the dance floor and we parade down… me in my sock soles and looking like a Highland Yak, the lads modelling reef sandals and bare feet which is a big hit with the ladies. We are made feel very welcome as the families around chat away to us. Many are home from Glasgow and further afield and the ceili is a tradition on Eriskay over the summer months to celebrate their return.

Tonight is the biggest night as it's the last ceili of the season. Kathleen spots us and is over for a chat. She queries the whereabouts of the fifth member of our party and is astounded that he's alone "…is he not afeared of the ghosts, for some one has died in each of those houses above ye and they are empty since!" Angus, her husband is also advising Seán of the ghosts in a separate conversation. Josie meets a native Scots Gaelic speaker but Connemara Irish is quite different. Kathleen invites us for breakfast while the family beside us wants to bring some of the Sunday roast to our campsite.

The bagpipes play there's no better sound to get a dance floor filled and we are hauled out to join in. We learn a very energetic Scottish dance called Strip the Willow and it seems to go on forever! 'Time out' and the lights go on. It's raffle time. Again, the Ladies can be seen at work, this time, arranging the prizes… bed linen, bath towels, large stainless pots, a bottle of whiskey. Tickets are limited but Seán gets one in the draw for the bath towels and a sheep. Luckily, he doesn’t win, but the butchers' daughter does!

Its back to the dance floor and Angus requests 'The Fields of Athenry' for us! There's more leaping and floor stomping and anything goes. The Red Bull & tequila gang is still going strong. The last dance is called and it’s a waltz to 'Oidhaigh Mhath, Ma Ha, Ma Ha, Ma Ha', which means 'Good Night, Nite Nite, Nite Nite'. We drag ourselves away as it nears 4.00am even though the dancing is still going strong. It's back to the green road and over the rough ground for us. Josie, with the night navigation skills of a homing pigeon, gets us back to base camp in one piece. A late night, a wet hike home and my shoes now like two sunken boats but well worth it.

No one is up in time to go hiking over the hill to Kathleen's for breakfast. Des wants us to be on the water in two hours so I had best make a move. The weather is improving as we push on to the Isle of Barra. We visit Acairseid Mhor, a large natural harbour where yachts are moored, before leaving Eriskay. Lunch at Na Stacan Dubha after a bit of surfing near Eilean Leathan. It's a difficult landing spot but provides for excellent panoramic views. Here Josie and Seán come to the rescue of an unfortunate sheep that has become trapped below on a steep incline.

It's on to Gighay (called after a Norse woman) and Hellisay (the Island of Caves) for another stop and tour. We then go to the western side of these islands and on through a maze of little isles with accurate navigation by Des. The last leg to Bagh a Tuath and onwards to Rubha Mhor is a slog but we eventually land at an excellent campsite near Castlebay, back on the Isle of Barra. It is a beautiful evening and Des is tempted to go for a swim! After cooking up nearly the last of the food rations, we head to the pub. There's a band scheduled to play and it's none other than the band from last nights Ceili. They recognise us as we them and they are surprised to see us on Barra. They look a little worst for wear (no more than ourselves) but still manage to get the audience up dancing around the tables and on the chairs although later, the bag piper can be seen asleep, slouched over the bar counter.

No one is up as the rain lashes down and a South Westerly blows… not the weather to head south to Mingulay. So it is a rest day, time to get a shower at the pier and then to tour about the island on foot. In the tourist office, there is a book all about Mingulay. The photographs of the high cliffs are spectacular. Had we made the wrong decision to go North on the first day? Could we get to Mingulay today? The weather has improved…It is now 3pm, it would be another hour before we'd be on the water and it would take six hours at least to do the round trip and that wouldn't even bring us to a landing spot. The cliffs at Mingulay and beyond will tempt us all to return another day.

Seán and Josie settle for a paddle to Flodaigh (Flat Island) and back, Jo tests out the Romany and Seán the Skerray. He also takes Des's Inuit paddle… " The lollipop" despite the fact that none of us can tell him which way to hold it in the owners absence!

Later, we return to the van and load the sea kayaks before dining at the hotel for our last night on the Outer Hebrides.

It's a misty morning as we pack up early to board the ferry to Oban. It's not looking too promising for a paddle later when we get to the mainland. We sit on deck in a sombre mood as the boat sounds it's foghorn at regular intervals as. Our mini-expedition nears an end yet no one wants it to.

As we approach Mull, the mist is lifting … could be a paddling day yet. As we dock in Oban, the Pilot books are being thumbed through and charts unfolded. There's mention of Corryvreckan but I think only to unnerve me although I am relieved to hear that it's too long of a drive.

The Garvellachs are the islands agreed on but we need to be on the water promptly to get the benefit of the ebbing tide. "Rough water" and "17 knots" are the words been bandied about as we approach Seil, near the Firth of Lorn, but I'm not going to take the bait. You've never seen five paddlers and five sea boats hit the water so fast; no one wants to fight the tide. Such a day: the sea is like a mirror, the sun is beating down and it's a T-shirt day. We paddle out, with the tide speeding us along, leaving Scarba to the West that sits between the two notoriously dangerous tidal races…The Gulf of Corryvreckan to the South and The Grey Dogs to the North.

The pilot for the area has noted overfalls for the passage but there's no sign of them in these conditions. We reach Garbh Eileach spotting three deer and then pass between A Chuil and Eileach-an-Naoimh to paddle along its' South Eastern Shore. Seán, who has read all about the history of this island, has already landed below the Beehive Huts.

The island was once the site of a monastery for St. Brendan of Clonfert, AD542, twenty-one years before St. Columba came to Iona. The double beehive hut is a semi-detached structure and is the finest example in Scotland. The huts on Skellig Michael are the only ones that are better preserved. The 9^th century monastery is situated some distance away from the beehive huts. It consists of a church, a chapel and a graveyard. On a hill above is a lone grave marked with a head stone engraved with a simple cross. It is reputed to be that of St. Columba's mother. She couldn't be laid to rest on Iona, as the burial of women there was not permitted.

Emergency food rations were being called in and Marie Keaney had packed her famous fruit cake off with Des to Scotland. I don't know how he and Seán had resisted it until this, although they did confess to having it earlier for breakfast. We demolished it just as the midges were devouring us and forced us to leave the idyllic island. For our return journey, we take a different route, using a transit and head towards Eilean Dubh Mor to pass between it and Eilean Dubh Beag. Here, the tide is starting to rush through as we see the boils on the water.

At another island, Fladda, there's a lighthouse that looks like it is steadily moving towards us. It is then on inside of Easdale and back to Seil. Seán assumes his "campsite hunting" role again and also seeks out a hotel that will feed us at this late hour. At 10.00pm, it's food first; sort out the sleeping quarters later. We don clean clothes and arrive at the hotel where the promise of soup and a roll has been miraculously changed to bangers and mash. A few drinks later and it is time that we went to find the recreational field that the locals have suggested as the campsite. So at midnight, we pitch our tents on a balmy evening, contented with a great day's paddle to finish our Scottish trip.

Hometime and we're a subdued bunch in the van as we journey to Stranraer. We arrive to board the ferry with minutes to spare and we have it practically to ourselves. The ship casts off and leaves Scottish shores. Our adventure is over but then there's always next year.

I myself had no interest in doing a course let alone an assessment at any proficiency level. But after trying to take a more active part in a sea-paddling group, I soon realised that I had a lot to learn. The ICU courses are set out so as one can build on previous knowledge, progressing from one level to the next as experience is achieved. Not only does one become a more confident member in a group but it also improves the safety and enjoyment for all.

You can start at any level up to level 4. In order to do a Level 4 assessment, you must first do a Level 4 course and to do Level 5, you must have obtained the Level 4 award.

Mary can be contacted on 074-28177 or at MaryTButler@hotmail.com

Aims: to enable participants to

• Kayak safely and competently on the sea as a member of a group being led

• Be capable of paddling competently in following winds, head winds and beam winds of up to force three

• Assist in rescues

• Have an understanding of the importance of weather as a factor in kayaking at sea.

Requirements: During the assessment, a participant must successfully explain and demonstrate the following techniques and skills at a proficiency level higher than that required for the Level 2 Sea Proficiency Award.

• Forward Paddle, Reverse Paddle and Emergency stop.
• Forward Sweep Strokes, Reverse Sweep Strokes and a combination of both
• Draw Stroke
• Sculling Draw
• Sculling for Support
• Low Brace
• High Brace
• Low Brace Turn
• Bow Rudder

• Entry and Exit
• Edging
• Paddling in a following wind, beam winds and head winds
• Record and interpret a marine weather forecast
• Paddling into, bracing and turning in small surf (1 foot)
• Read a tide table to ascertain the time of high - water
• Capsize Drill in deep water, getting back into kayak with assistance

• Assisted X Rescue and an X Rescue
• Eskimo Rescue.

• Safety Rules
• An understanding of staying in your boat in the event of a capsize at sea
• An understanding of the effects of the wind on the sea with particular reference to the danger of offshore winds. The candidate should show an understanding of what is meant by a leeshore, dumping surf, riptides and tide races

• An understanding of good control (i.e. responding to various signals and commands)
• Environment
• Recognises several of the significant flora and fauna in the seashore environment.

Aims: to ensure that successful candidates have sufficient skill and knowledge to undertake simple sea journeys with safety under the guidance of other more experienced paddlers. (Where candidates have the necessary previous experience, they may be assessed on the second day of a weekend course.)

Requirements: A participant must successfully explain and/or demonstrate the following techniques and skills. It is recommended that the practical skills and rescues are assessed in sea state 2-3 and not, if possible, within harbours.

• An ability to control a kayak in following and beam seas.
• An ability to deal with breaking waves.
• Efficient forward and backward paddling, turning into and away from the wind (360 degrees in both directions)
• An ability to perform an Eskimo Rescue (paddle presentation)

• An ability to perform a: Draw stroke, low brace support, stern rudder, sculling draw, low brace turn

• An effective X rescue of a capsized kayak
• Effective method of towing another kayak. An assessment candidate should be familiar with the Fan and Tandem Tow. The towing System must be accessible and have a quick release mechanism.
• Transits: The candidate should be able to explain and demonstrate the use of transits up ahead, laterally and behind.
• An ability to follow a compass bearing.

• A basic knowledge of First Aid, to include the symptoms and treatment of exposure and an awareness of the technique of artificial resuscitation.

• An introductory knowledge of the coastal environment

Theory:

• Tidal streams
• Weather forecasts
• Sea kayaks, equipment and clothing
• Sea kayaking camping procedures
• Sea kayaking safety procedures
• Sea charts
• The effects of wind on sea conditions

Full outline and details on all the Sea Proficiency Awards are available from the ICU

Contact: STEPHEN HANNON at Stephenh@iol.ie

Saoirse na Mara, 69 Manor Village, Westport Road, Castlebar,

Co.Mayo. Tel. 094 27682

5 Star Training, 6^th – 8^th October, GB£75, Self Catering

Email: admin@tollymore.com Web site: www.tollymoremc.com

Tel: 028) 43722158

Atlantic Sea Kayaking will organise any proficiency and assessments as required once there is a group of 4 participants. They can also organise qualifying trips and grinds for anyone going for assessment.

Jim can also run a rough water sea-kayaking course should there be a demand.

For these courses and much more… contact: JIM KENNEDY, Atlantic Sea Kayaking, Marias' Schoolhouse, Union Hall, West Cork.

Email: atlanticseakayaking@eircom.net

Ballyvaughan, Co.Clare.

Marc Jegou of River Ocean Kayak will run courses for groups of 3 to 5 people. Once there is a group, dates etc. can be organised. All kayaking equipment required for the course will be available. Courses include Level 2 and 3 proficiency and also rough water days. For full details, contact Marc.

River Ocean now has a club of regular kayakers who go out most weekends. All are welcome to join them, with or without equipment.

Contact Marc Jegou: Tel: 065) 7077043 Email: riverocean@esatclear.ie, Website: www.riverocean.com

Flares are an essential safety feature of many marine activities. Flares are only used in emergency circumstances and must be treated with caution, as even a small mini-flare could maim or destroy. Flares are categorised as follows:

• Parachute Red Rocket - a long-range distress signal with 30 miles visibility.
• Red Hand Flare - a hand held, easy to operate, pinpoint signal.
• Mini-Flare - a pack of 8 short range red aerial flares.
• Life Smoke – buoyant, 3 minute orange signal.
• Day/Night Signal - dual purpose smoke and flare signal for day and night use.
• White collision hand flare - to draw attention when collision is possible.
• Hand Held 60 second smoke signal.

Flare kits are available through all licensed marine distributors. Always be cautious and check the expiry date of the flares. When cruising on the inland waterways (lakes, wide bodies of water, etc.), it is recommended that you carry an inshore kit, comprising of a red hand flare, a mini-flare and a day/night signal. Flares carry a shelf life after which they can become volatile. If they are used after their expiry date has lapsed, they can be dangerous in an emergency situation or may not operate at all. Flares should be stored in a watertight container, close to hand at all times on the vessel. They are definitely not toys and must be treated carefully.

O’Sullivan’s Marine, in conjunction with the Department of Marine, are pleased to announce a service for flare disposal (EPTs – Expired Pyrotechnics). Should you have flares to dispose of, please contact

O’Sullivan’s Marine and we will be delighted to take them and dispose of them safely for you.

Persons bringing flares for disposal must follow these rules:

1. Contact O’Sullivan’s Marine to arrange a date to bring in the flares.

2. Flares must be packaged correctly. Each flare must be wrapped in brown paper, clearly marked and put into a cardboard box (in good condition). The box must be packed with brown paper. The contents should be clearly stated on the box.

3. O’Sullivan’s Marine will give you a date and time to deliver to our premises. We will issue a receipt to state that we have taken the flares, and we will dispose of them in conjunction with the armed forces. The reason for making prior arrangements for the flares is so we can contact the relevant bodies and arrange disposal.

There is no charge for this service.

Ever since my first experience in a Kayak I've always wondered what I'll be doing in five years time, career, houses, cars, friends came and went but Kayaking has always been a part of my life from that first naïve experience. Even though I had a very narrow view of what Kayaking is all about when I was 13, I knew that there was adventure ahead, as well as meeting colourful people, full of their own adventure

My first memory of a real adventure was paddling my Fibreglass lump (for that's all it was) from a small bay near Colla, Schull out to Long Island. My back up cover was my Dad at the helm of Naomh Brid, our small fishing boat. We had never even heard of an X-Rescue!

From that first open crossing, I loved the feeling of commitment to the Sea and the freedom from everyday life. Thankfully I learned to respect the water more as I grew more experienced. It was only after finishing school that it dawned on me that there was career in Kayaking. From that point on I haven't looked back.

My real passion for Kayaks and water came when I started working in Cappanalea. I started there with a average level of skill and not really taking on any great challenges. But it was there I met up with some very influential paddlers! Pretty soon I was eating, sleeping, living and breathing Kayaking in a playground full of adventures.

I had never sat in a Sea Kayak in my life and one day my friend Donal Dowd asked would I be interested in joining him on a week of Island hopping off the Galway / Mayo coast. Although I was unaware of what really lay ahead I enthusiastically agreed and in a few weeks we were off. We arrived in Cleggan on a very overcast blustery Saturday. At this stage I hadn't yet told Donal of my inexperience in a Sea Kayak. He must have presumed that, as I was a good River paddler, so too was I in a Sea Kayak.

After careful preparation of our week's provisions we set off outside the harbour. As we reached more open water, I then realised the extent of our paddle ahead. There was a very large windblown swell running and as ever Donal made nothing of it and ploughed on. Despite my nerves, I was quietly enjoying the feeling of paddling in felt like liquid mountains.

Then came the entrance to Bofin harbour, ordinarily I would have rejoiced at the sight of such breakers, except that instead of a nippy play boat on a beach break I was now faced with dumping waves and my fully loaded Nordkapp didn't exactly encourage riding the shoulder! Donals experience of previous entrances to the harbour let us have a safe passage into the harbour. Never before was I so grateful of a pint of Guinness in Days that night.

In the days ahead we paddled all the delights that Inishark, Turk, Caher and Clare Island had to offer. I was exposed to a wide variety of Sea conditions and wildlife and under Donals expert eye; I was by now at home in my new environment.

Luck equivalent to winning the Lotto befell me that week. While on Inishark, exploring its Rocky shoreline, I stumbled across a message in a bottle. Hopefully you can read Vioriel Tomescus short note all the way from Romania. Despite having written to her, she has never replied!

That ended my chance of meeting a mystical foreign woman with loads of money!

We also escaped a brush with the Navy, we had landed on Clare Island, enjoyed a meal washed down with a few Guinness and settled down to sleep. We were awoken to the sound of a drunken brawl! The sailors from a visiting Naval ship had gone a little bit overboard on their shore leave! (Forgive the pun) The fight seemed to be right outside the tent and we were sure our tent was next in the firing line.

The highlight of the trip was a night on Caher, the ancient monastic settlements left me with a feeling of admiration for those who had endured a life of devotion on the island. It must have been a harsh existence even it was in one of the most scenic places in Ireland. That evening I enjoyed one of the most spectacular sunsets I have ever seen and felt lucky at the fact that I had the chance to see Ireland as it used to be.

Next morning we rose early for our last paddle back to Cleggan, mirror seas, early morning sunshine and the feel of a good Sea Kayak slicing through the ocean. These conditions were further enhanced by the presence of some Dolphins, enquiring to our activity. We enjoyed watching their graceful slide through the water and wondered where they had ventured just as they surely wondered as to what we were up to!

That first week of adventure left me with memories, which I still enjoy today. Every time I paddle on the Sea now I hope that the trip will leave me with something to savour.

Another landmark in my paddling career so far was a trip from Schull to the Fastnet rock. As a boy I had always looked out on the Fastnet with wonder, during stormy weather I asked myself, how could any structure withstand such a pounding. Donal and I seemed fixated with getting there as fast as possible, 2 hours was an impressive sprint out and my expectation was matched. Fastnet is a Towering sight, a bastion against the ravages of the Sea. The Swell was in our favour and we surfed all the way to Cape Clear for a welcome lunch. A lively paddle through the Calves and past Long Island and we were soon back in Schull to recount the days paddle over a few of Corks finest stout.

At this stage after numerous training courses and more paddling trips than hot dinners, I was ready to take responsibility for others. While at Little Killary Adventure Centre, home of another great adventurer, Jamie Young, I had the chance to lead a number of Island hopping trips in the same waters I had gained such fabulous memories a few years before.

Frederik, one of my clients was obviously put out on the first day of a 7 day trip, after numerous attempts to find out what was the matter. "ven can I get a smoke Jonnn!!!" was the reply. So after that I helped him roll copious amounts of cigarettes each evening to be stored on deck in a dry bag, ready for a fix in an instant. Of course this was legal tobacco, I didn't fancy a run in with the Naval Drug search squad!

If you've ever run a trip like this, you may have had the following experience. I was told we would be joined by an Alaskan paddler, on arrival I said to myself, uh oh! Big Guy to say the least! After a somewhat shaky start, Big John, a helicopter paramedic, turned out to be a real character. I'm sure the people of Inishbofin are still recovering from the sight of Big John strolling into the pub in almost transparent thermal leggings!

Unfortunately he had ripped beyond repair his only pair of trousers. The time at Little Killary was wonderful, it is Irelands premier Sea Kayaking location and life is lived at a different pace there.

Now I am enjoying passing the Joys of paddling on to others. Whether it's paddling down Alpine White Water, Wicklow Rivers, Playing at Sluice, exploring the Saltees, I am now enjoying every moment I pick up a paddle. It's a very satisfying feeling to achieve paddling ambitions every year and this November I am about to tackle a dream that has been with me for 5 years, to paddle the Rivers of the Everest region of Nepal. I suppose after that has been achieved I'll find another challenge.

Kayaking is a unique sport, its people, wild locations and adventure taken at any level leave us with rewards every time we take to the water. I learned one very important lesson in Kerry, no need for gory details. But never be afraid to walk away from water, there is always another day. Water has power greater than you or I can ever generate. The moment you forget that is the moment you are no longer in control. We can only venture on to the water as tourists.

See you on the water. Jon Hynes

Friday afternoon dragged on and on until at last I could put the phone down , turn off the PC and escape. Hoping that my packing efforts on Thursday night had included all the kit I needed I drove through the light holiday traffic to collect Stan Pearson in Blackrock.

After helpings of Parma Ham and Italian Cheese we were ready for the spin to Belmullet. Just about out the door and Stan calls "De Ye lik Whiske " after a wee pause for translation I answered in the affirmative and the "Laphroaig" was carefully packed.

Four hours later having endured the merciless Western Sunset just below the Sun-Visor we coasted through Ballina in the dusk at 10.45pm. We tried in vain to make contact with Paul who had already arrived in Belmullet and found a campsite however he had changed the meeting point due to a change in wind direction and now we should head for "Frenchport". Frantically searched for "Frenchport" on the map without success.

The mobile phone connection was bad and we had only half a Grid Ref. to work from - we bounced onwards to Belmullet. Just past Belmullet we stopped at a cross roads and Stan pulled out the 1:50,000 OS Map and at last saw "Portnafrankagh" and "Frenchport" was signposted a short distance on.

In the pitch dark 3km down a boreen we arrived at the pier in Frenchport - Called Paul again and this time got through - "You have reached the message minder of .......

Resolved to spending the night in a field near the pier we dragged out the tent - then Car Headlights

Thoughts of an Angry Farmer, Gardai - but there was a Kayak on the roof thanks be to Jeasus.

Paul led us to the Beach and a perfect campsite, A few "wee drams" straight from the bottle we were all out like a light.

The dawn broke earlier than us and as soon as the sun superheated the tent I resolved to escape from the inferno and get up. After breakfast we were haggling about the trip and Paul declares "I'm going to Eagle Island, are ye coming?" - This would add 10k to the day's paddle so after some downright bullying - Paul won. The chance to land on Eagle might not be on offer again since the weather was just right for a landing. The plan would be to leave from Frenchport, tackle Eagle Island then down to Inishglora and Inishkea South. The weather was forecast to hold good so no worries there.

We had to drop one car down to Blacksod Point for our return on Sunday so it was 11am before we departed.

We left the sheltered water of Frenchport and turned North for Eagle Island a run of about 5km / 50 mins. The North Easterly breeze cooled us down a little and gave short chop between Annagh Head and Eagle. The ebbing tide was noticeable running between Eagle and Cross Rock.

We found that there are 2 landing points on Eagle one SW one on the NE. The Southern one was accessible and it was sheltered in a channel behind a rock stack. Without getting too wet we landed one at a time - the others staying on the water . This was achieved using a raft of two kayaks and the third paddler holding the raft off the rocks with a short tow. Each got a chance for a quick scout around and a photo - plenty of bird life with Greater Blackback Gulls and Fulmar in prominence.

It was about 2pm when we departed Eagle and made for a circumnavigation of the island. The NE landing point was not accessible as the waves were breaking on this side. The Lighthouse on Eagle looked impressive and is protected by a large white wall, which looked almost like a Fortress.

The run south to Inishglora was in a mainly following sea but Stan had trouble with his skeg and found the going hard as he had to make frequent sweep strokes to correct. However with benefit of a rudder I enjoyed the surfing.

Inishglora was a welcome sight and our late lunch/dinner filled a large gap at 5.00pm. We found a Whale (Probably a Pilot Whale) carcass about 20ft in length on the high tide-line, which was more or less intact and judging by its lack of smell and flesh had been there quite some time. The island itself was unremarkable and the monastic ruins were not very impressive. We found the well mentioned in Oileáin and despite someone having recently cleaned it out the water looked greasy and not fit for human consumption.

By 6.30pm we were ready for the final leg South to the Inishkeas another 10km South.

We passed by some wary seals in the bay as we passed Inishkeeragh, which would surface close by and dive again giving a splash before you could see them.

The wind was at our back again and the sea a bit calmer than before and we plodded on to the deserted village of "Porteenbeg" on Inishkea South.

Another excellent camping site - a short carry to above the high tide line, a short walk to flat sandy grass, a little sheep manure here and there and "NO MIDGES!!!" Too tired and too late to explore the island we cooked, ate, drank a little Chateau le Plonk, and more Chateau Laphroaig before a deep uninterrupted sleep. - Bliss!

Sunday dawned bright, warm & calm - We took a walk up to the beacon used for transit between the Duvillauns on "Knocknaskea". All of 72 metres - Finally discovered a weakness in the Durnan fellah - His legs weren't made for climbing hills - I think he must have had an operation to transplant his Thighs Muscles to his Shoulders or something. From Knocknaskea we had a clear panorama out to Blackrock (4 miles distant), Achill island's impressive coastline beckoned and was logged in the "must to do that trip one day " section of my memory. The Duvillaun's were visible as a line of Shark like rocky fins each decreasing in size from left to right.

The effects of the "Peaty wine" wore off and Stan surfaced later he was exploring by the time we had returned and over breakfast we cooked a plan to persuade him about an extra trip out to "Blackrock" On his return we broached the subject but he was having none of it. He had begun to form his ideas about climbing the cliffs hereabouts on the Western in-cuts.

By eleven we were off again - this morning's plan was a short cruise up the Western coast of Inishkea North and returning along Inishkea South's western coast and then to cross to Duvillaun Mor.

There was supposed to be a Common Seal colony on The North Island. We spotted some sunning themselves but these were rather pale in colour with dark hairy patches on head and torso they even stood up on hind legs, shouted "Hello" and waved at us. - Later we landed and found that they were camped in the ruins of the village, Evidence that they were fish and lobster eaters was found along with their drying rubber skin and sharp arrow like devices for hunting. - Quite an ingenious species these "Pale Seals".

On our way south Stan was busy hunting for "New Routes" on the promising Gabbro Rock - ideas were surfacing of a combined Sea Kayak and Climbing group to put Inishkea South on the climbing map.

Our lunch stop was at the deepest in-cut on the island, which has only another 300m to completely cut through. Great cooling effect can be gained high diving into the deep channel below.

Onwards to Duvillaun Mor crossing the south going tide race, we had to work hard on our transits to keep a straight line. I was now flagging and tired and by 5pm we reach the only landing spot a - a small beach on the eastern shore. Paul - with still energy to spare made a visit to the monastic sites on the island whilst we brewed, cooked and drank and ate.

The last leg of our journey was 10km to just beyond Blacksod Point. The water and wind remained calm and placid as we rounded the tip of the peninsula but as soon as we left the shelter of Knocknagrauve a Northerly headwind zapped the last of our energy reserves until we landed on the sandy beach beside the slipway.

We loaded 3 Kayaks on the car for the short trip back to Frenchport. At 21.30 we bade farewell to Paul as we had to motor on to Dublin and other 5 hours passed before I could say the weekend was finally finished. A full 48 hours which felt like more, but worth the long drive and the late arrival home in the early hours on Monday morning.

Originally, in issue no. 18, there was an article describing a wonderful trip around the Blaskets in which the paddler encountered Orcas. Not unreasonably, this paddler described feeling threatened by the Orcas. I tried to explain in issue no. 20 that, in line with all experience to date, there should be no need to fear these creatures.

Ken McIlreavy, in issue no. 21, " Respecting Wildlife", commented further and I quote "…I must take exception to his (my) statement that "local sea kayaking outfitters organise trips that allow people to paddle amongst these exotic creatures". There is no point in taking exception to this statement; it is merely stating a fact. Further on in his article, which some might like to read again, Ken writes in a what I would politely describe as a somewhat overly robust manner when he refers to another statement of fact concerning practices at some aquariums.

The thrust of my article was to explain why people should not be afraid of Orcas. I referred to outfitters who organise trips among these whales and also to the aquariums where a trainer may hold his head within the open jaws of an Orca, solely to illustrate a point. I neither supported nor condemned these activities. I just used them as examples to make my point that these creatures are not dangerous to humans.

Again, without taking sides, I would like to point out that the scientific community and those dedicated to the preservation of whales appear to be divided on the issue of whether paddling/swimming/diving with whales results in any significant stress. Perhaps Paul Bracken would like to advise?

Ref: Among Whales by Roger Payne

Peter Cork

Late News! Valley Canoes will have the following ex demo boats for sale:

2 x Aquila, 1 x Pintail, keyhole cockpit, 1 x Jubilee keyhole cockpit with deck pump, 1 x Glassfibre Avocet, 2 or more Rotomoulded Avocet, 1 x Skerray RM, 1 x Skerray RMX large cockpit, 1 x Anas Acuta ( old model with only 2 round hatches ), 1 x Jubilee with Modified - straight running - hull- not retractable skeg. with Pump.

It’s that time of year again! Here are the dates for 2000/2001. All are on a Saturday. October 14th, November 11th, December 9th, January 13th, February 10^th and March 10^th. Call Seán Pierce (01-8490048) Friday evening or early Saturday morning to check on weather. Meet at the lifeboat station at Skerries harbour at 10:00.

Stan Pearson has being doing some research on 'rough water' courses. Marc Jegou can offer such a course, which could be based in the Galway area or in Wales. The possible dates are 15^th / 16^th October or 21^st /22^nd October. If interested contact Mary Butler at 074 28177 or email marytbutler@hotmail.com

Subscriptions are £10 p.a. and now being accepted for 2001.. Subs can be paid to David Walsh at the address below.

Honorary memberships are available to people who make a significant contribution to the Association. Additional names sharing Treasna na dTonnta at the one address may be added at £5.00 extra each

I.C.U. membership/registration is available at an additional £2 p.a.. This is only useful for those who are not registered with the I.C.U. either individually or through another club.