Blog
It's cold out there
7th January 2010
It’s been a very cold winter, even here on the usually mild west coast, but I’m not complaining; given a choice between four months of lashing rain and gales or deep, crisp snow and blue skies, I’ll take the latter every time.
The day before I headed south to get married I decided to head up my last hill as a single man - one of my favourites, Sgurr Coire Choinnichean. The summit is just a couple of miles from my front door so it doesn’t take long to get there. I timed it so that I’d get the best of the late afternoon sun and wasn’t disappointed with the view which takes in the isles of Skye, Rum and Eigg. The Cuillins were pure white teeth on an icy sky.
It’s not often the west coast enjoys such perfect winter conditions: the temperature at sea level was minus seven, the snow was frozen right down to the mean high tide mark and up at 500 metres above sea level it was half a metre deep. As the sun went down the northern sky turned purple and the white slopes turned pink. I stayed as long as my down jacket could keep me warm.
Almost a Wilderness
1st December 2009
I was asked to write an article for Scotland Outdoors magazine about life in Knoydart, the remote peninsula on the west coast of Scotland where I live and work.
To read the article click on this link...
Eda Frandsen revisited
21st June 2009
Two years ago I joined the Robinson clan on their beautiful gaff cutter, Eda Frandsen. Well, I was lucky enough to be invited along again this year. The photo is one of Claire on deck with TWO G&Ts, whilst anchored off Pabbay in the Sound of Harris on a beautiful mid-summer evening.
We began our voyage at home in Knoydart and set off in the sea mist to Canna, then on to Mingulay, an abandoned island of dramatic cliffs and one beautiful sandy beach. We were welcomed there by a basking shark and thousands of puffins.
On then to Helisay and up the west coast of the Uists to the Monach Islands. Hundreds of seals barked at us and shifted about on the pebbles. The sea mist by now had dissipated and we walked on the white sand and watched the beautiful arctic terns effortlessly dance about in the blue sky.
We moored off Pabbay and had G&Ts on deck as the sun set over the Atlantic. The last day was a magnificent sail of 50 miles from the Sound of Harris along the west coast of Skye to a mooring at the Point of Sleat.
It's hard not to feel smug when you're sailing on the Eda Frandsen. It's a beautiful craft. It might be a lot easier to sail those posh white yachts that we saw racing past us - press a button and the sail puts itself away - but we had the real thing. Hauling the ropes, raising the sails, hearing the creak of the timber and lying on that beautiful deck with seven sails above us in the sun.
Thanks again to the Robinson clan for having this land lubber aboard. Hope I wasn't too much of a burden
Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year Competition 2009
21st June 2009
Following similar success last year (see below) I once again reached the finals of this prestigious international competition which, this year, had a record 43,000 entries from 93 countries. The (nearly) winning shot was this one of a great wood spider in Nepal. These beautiful arachnids are very common in the forests of the Himalayan foothills. They are about the size of a human hand and their metre-wide webs are strong enough to catch small birds.
As well as the spider, this shot of pigeons at Swayambunath Stupa in Kathmandu reached the semi-finals. This Buddhist landmark, on top of a wooded hill west of Kathmandu, is famous for its rhesus macaque monkeys. Pigeons, common in cities aroud the world, do not attract as much attention but it's not often you get the opportunity to capture the essence of pigeons and Buddhism in one photograph.
Guidebook updating in the Nepalese Himalaya
October to December 2008
I've been out of the country for nearly three months, this time to India and Nepal on guidebook updating duty for Trailblazer. Bryn Thomas has kindly left me in charge of the fifth edition of his "Trekking in the Annapurna Region" guidebook. There was plenty to update; sadly, the Annapurna region is suffering from a lot of thoughtless roadbuilding. The Kali Gandaki valley is now driveable for most of its length. Needless to say trekking in this, the deepest valley in the Himalayas, is not quite the experience it used to be.
The benefits that the road brings to the local community are debatable. Certainly the wealthy will now be able to build bigger hotels in once inaccessible parts of the valley but this will be to the detriment of the smaller lodges. Trekker numbers are falling and will fall further, forcing many of these small businesses up against the mountain wall.
The mountains are still there of course but their essence has been tainted by a diesel tang. If you want to see the Annapurna region in its natural glory, before it is virtually encircled by roads, head for the Marsyangdi Valley and climb to either the 5500 metre Thorung La or the 5000 metre Tilicho Tal. Locals call the latter "the highest lake in the world". It isn't but don't dent their pride by telling them so. It's still extraordinarily beautiful - a milky blue sheet of water with a backdrop of 8000 metre icy peaks. To get there requires strong lungs, sturdy legs and a head for heights. My Nepali friend Saubir led Claire and me on what he called the "dangerous" route. "Other route is very dangerous", he said. The thin trail crossed a loose slope of shale. Every few minutes a boulder would fly from above and bounce down into the gorge below. "Don't worry," said Saubir. "Only one man ever die here."
Once past that obstacle all we had between us and the lake was a relentless climb of 1000 metres to the lake at 5000 metres. We crossed a broad icy valley below the Grand Barriere, a frozen mountain wall towering above us. Along the ridge a plume of fine snow drifted into the blue sky and evaporated. We reached the lake edge as the wind picked up and threw the snow around us threateningly. We just had time for some photos and to try, for a few minutes, to take in this otherworldly scene: a dead landscape, alive with spinning snow. The only colour was a line of prayer flags snapping in the wind and a lost blue lake amongst white Himalayan peaks.
Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year Competition 2008
20th June 2008
This image, which I took earlier this year in Knoydart, reached the final of the One Earth Category of the Shell Wildlife Photographer of the Year competition 2008.
The poor beast must have got its antlers caught in the lobster creels whilst on one of the beaches. Deer are quite fond of licking the salt from the rocks. The beaches here in Knoydart tend to attract plenty of litter, most of which originates from the fishing industry.
One of the Knoydart stalkers put this animal out of its misery the following day. As with all the deer culled on the Knoydart estate the meat from this animal was sent to a game dealer. None of the meat is wasted.
There were 32,000 entries to the competition from 3000 photographers worldwide. As well as this shot I also reached the semi-finals in four other categories as follows:
In Praise of Plants - semi finalist
I shot these autumnal rowan leaves in a wood in Perthshire.
Wild Places - semi finalist
Looking from Doune, Knoydart, towards the Isle of Rum.
Creative Visions of Nature - semi finalist
Taken on the foreshore near Inveraray, Loch Fyne, Argyll.
One Earth Award - semi finalist
This is the poor stag in the picture above, the day after.
What do you do in winter?
22nd February 2008
It's a question we're often asked in Knoydart...what do you do in winter? We don't hibernate. We don't sit around smoking
and drinking (well, some do). We don't stare at blank walls or whistle at the wind. We work and have a good time. Just like in the summer.
Just like people do in Bradford and Merthyr Tydfil.
There's no end of things to do and to get done in Knoydart. From deer stalking to fencing to milling
and tree planting, there's a whole load of stuff to interupt us from the hectic Knoydart social life.
The pub has had its quiet nights but it's had its busy ones too.
New Year was one of
the best yet, with a ceilidh in the hall, a pub crammed with visitors and locals and a firework display that was surely far too
spectacular for such a small village.
The party lasted for five days and culminated at Sir Cameron Mackintosh's shindig at the church in Tarbert. We've also had Te Pooka here,
entertaining us with their fire theatre in the woods.
We've had live music in the hall and we've got an inflatable planetarium coming our way soon. Winter is far from dreary.
Must say good luck to the Knoydart children who have been nominated for an award for best film by under-12s at the First Light Movie Awards.
We're all off to the ceremony at the Leicester Square
Odeon in March to tread the red carpet and sign autographs.
The media can't leave Knoydart alone just now. We've been filmed by Italian breakfast TV, the Travel Channel and most recently by BBC Countryfile. Ben Fogle came
to do a two-part special on us. We took him photostalking, showed him some eagles and taught him how to let his hair down with some fiddly-dee in the pub.
He must have enjoyed it all because
he was back to join in the New Year's celebrations.
So, winter's nearly over. It has been a mix of gales, wind, rain, hail and cold sunshine. The daffodils were in flower on the 5th January but we did get two
days of snow at the start of February. We were out stalking that day. The photo is of Jim, one of our stalkers, on the Li Face looking over Loch Hourn.
Two weeks later we were sweating in temperatures of 15C doing the annual deer count.
So, that's Knoydart in winter. Nothing to do really.
Sailing West
9th July 2007
When the owners of the Eda Fransen, a 60-year-old sailing cutter (see links page), asked me if I would like to come on their family holiday to the
Western Isles the decision was an easy one. This beautiful craft, based here in Knoydart, was lovingly converted by Toby and Jamie Robinson from an
old Danish fishing vessel into an award winning yacht offering holidays all over the west coast. There are four twin berth guest cabins, a big saloon
where Jamie the skipper rustles up fantastic three course feasts each evening, a shower and glorious 56ft oak deck. This was travelling in
magnificent style.
It started as something of a mystery tour. Don't ask the skipper for an itinerary; the beauty of the trip is that the wind governs your direction.
Our first berth was in Loch Scavaig below the jaggedy Cuillin peaks of Skye, brooding in swirling grey mists. Grey seals fidgeted and hauled
themselves about on the gabbro rock and arctic terns danced above the waves like delicate paper kites caught on the breeze.
I was told to expect plenty of wildlife and it soon became clear that this was far from wishful thinking. We were joined in the bay on Canna by a
huge basking shark, the second biggest fish in the world. The children were happy enough with catching smaller coalies with their home made fishing lines.
They would also head off in the dinghy every evening to sink the creels on the shore. In the mornings they would check them and return with excited shouts
of "We've got a lobster and three crabs!" There was more wildlife to see at Dun Mor sea stack where nesting fulmars intermingled with the puffins that
buzzed around from clifftop to clifftop.
From Canna we had a long fifty mile crossing of The Minch to South Uist where we were joined by porpoises and minke whales. But the highlight of the
trip was saved till last. On a beautiful sunny day we sailed into the sandy bay of an uninhabited and starkly beautiful island. It felt like a chapter
from a children's adventure - Robinson Crusoe, The Land that Time Forgot and Swallows and Amazons rolled into one.
This was an island ruled by birds, made only more obvious by the abandoned and ruined village, slowly getting buried by creeping
sand dunes. We set off to the west side of the island where 150 metre cliffs and sea stacks act like natural skyscrapers in a city of
chattering birds. Puffins and fulmars covered every ledge and sliced through the sky incessantly. Soon the great skuas - or bonxies - intimidating sea birds
and infamous bullies of the sky, drifted over to us and began their aerial bombardment. They were trying to get us away from their nests and it worked.
Don't argue with a bonxie; they can do quite a bit of damage to an unguarded scalp.
Then came the unexpected. We had seen, from the bay, a golden eagle drifting above the sea cliffs and as we wandered along the edge of those cliffs
we saw it again, a little nearer but still some way off. After lunch we continued along the cliff top when Sarah's eyes widened.
She half whispered and half shouted "Eagle! It's here!" I'd walked right past it but with a few steps backwards I saw it, just five metres away,
asleep on the ledge. We all crouched down in the grass and I put the camera to work (the results of which can be seen on the images - wildlife page).
After months of trying to get a decent shot of an eagle in Knoydart here I was almost tripping over one. After five minutes it woke up,
stood up, watched us for a bit and then casually launched itself off the cliff.
We sailed back to Knoydart, via Rum, almost as effortlessly as that eagle sailed away from the cliff and as if we hadn't been treated to enough already we
were joined by some dolphins on our passage across the Minch. A welcome end to a memorable week. Thank you to all my fellow crew mates - Sarah, Fay, and
Karen - but particularly the Robinsons for inviting this land lubber aboard the beautiful Eda and introducing me to the joys of sailing.
North Knoydart
24th June 2007
Back from a weekend in north Knoydart, an exotic location for someone who lives in south Knoydart.
The midges were frenzied, the ticks were embedding themselves in sweaty pits and the hiss of drizzle
on the tent never abated. But it was all worth it for the wildlife. I'd had reports of peregrines
in the area. Sure enough they were there slicing through the grey sky. Have also been keeping an eye on the
red throated divers. Have got a few pictures which I will post soon but I'm still to get the shot I'm after.
Haven't seen the eagles for a while. I think something might have happened to the chick. I saw the pair acting
very strangely near the nest a few weeks ago and since then I haven't seen them. Will keep you posted.
Up and running
May 31st 2007
Welcome to my new blog spot. I'll try to keep this updated as often as possible with news from Knoydart and beyond.
Must thank my brother Jack for the website revamp. He's teaching me how to manage it myself so, hopefully,
I will soon have my latest shots of divers, buzzards, and otters posted soon.
Just now I'm working on a new guidebook for Trailblazer which should be on the shelves in spring 2008 -
will be out in the Alps in August to do a final bit of research for that. I'm also about to head off
to do the West Highland Way - an updating trip for Trailblazer's 3rd edition of that book. In between
all that I've been busy getting some shots of the wildlife of Knoydart which I hope to have posted here
before too long.
So, hope you like the new site. If you'd like to see what the weather is doing here in Knoydart, take a look
at Tommy's webcam for the view from the post office across Loch Nevis (see links page and click on www.knoydartshop.com).
