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OUT AND ABOUT WITH RALPH: Much to enjoy on old favourite paddle journey


By Ben MacGregor

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My favourite item of kayaking gear has to be my “shortie cag”. A short-sleeved waterproof top with arm and neck seals to be worn on rare hot sunny days.

It is essential to dress for possible immersion when going out on our cold seas, particularly if on your own and you may have to spend some time in the water before you can get back in your boat.

Nowadays I mostly wear a full drysuit which can be hot and cumbersome. There have been no more than half a dozen times when it’s been warm enough to get the “shortie cag” out.

It was another of those cool, grey days we’ve seen so much of, but with a promise that the sun might come out later. I packed the shortie cag in a hatch hoping I might change out of my heavy drysuit later in the day.

Every year there is one paddle I never miss, along the coast from Dunbeath to Berriedale. The scenery of cliff, cave, tunnels and huge arch is the most spectacular in the county and there are many fascinating stony beaches.

This is no coast to paddle at speed, think no more than half the much-too-fast 6km/hour a few macho paddlers aim for! The sea was calm and I resolved to explore as many caves and land on as many beaches as possible.

All the cliff-nesting birds are now in residence in spectacular numbers, but a lone paddler causes little disturbance. Birds on their nests don’t take any notice and only the non-breeding guillemots on lower rocks may take off and fly into the sea. Shags complain gutterally from their nests as you paddle into their caves but stay put as long as you don’t get too close.

Launching from the beach near the harbour my first aim was to paddle across the bay to Dunbeath Castle. A narrow cave leads into the high rock promontory on which the castle is built, with a steeply shelving stony beach at the end.

Landing is always tricky as any small swell is amplified and dumps on the stones. I usually end up with a boat full of water and this time was no exception.

In the light of my head torch I pulled the boat up, emptied it and managed to turn it round.

The cave goes on, a long way back, there is stinking rocking seaweed to wade through, big steps up over the iron plates of an ancient shipwreck then a narrowing passage of debris leading to a dead-end. A helmet is essential.

Shine your torch up and you will see the collapsed remains of the staircase which once wound down here from the castle. Some of the huge steps remain poised, Damocles-like, high above your head. Best not look.

Leaving this unfriendly place behind the scenery just gets better and better. There are dark caves which open up as you enter, revealing a second exit. The first beach has a high rock stack and the remains of an ancient pathway leading down through the wild garlic. The second beach has huge overhangs and secret caves at the back with rock-slab benches. The third beach is small and almost surrounded by towering cliffs covered in kittiwakes and guillemots. At low spring tide there is actually a route here from the clifftop, via the other two beaches and a tunnel-like cave.

It is far and away the most sensational spot a walker can find their way to in Caithness (for the experienced only!)

Now the huge arch of An Dun looms ahead, maybe 200 feet high and totally dwarfing the paddler. Birds continue to scream all around as you paddle through and back under a smaller arch. Beyond is another huge and inaccessible beach under high overhangs.

The scenery of cliffs, caves and beaches carries on all the way to Berriedale. Here the slopes are a bit grassier, with lush patches of red and white campion and thrift.

Out on the sea were occasional black ducks with four or five tiny black chicks in tow, in addition to the usual black guillemots and puffins.

Every beach is worth making the effort to land on, to look at the wild flowers and do a bit of beach-combing where the zealous beach-cleaners never reach.

I rolled to cool off before heading slowly back, taking in beaches I’d missed on the way out.

But the sun stayed hidden and, alas, I never got to wear my shortie cag!


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