HANDA ISLAND

My first attempt to paddle around Handa was abandoned off Ardmore Point. I’d launched beside the River Laxford and followed the north shore of the loch out to the point. Barely discernible between the islands, the swell off the point was intimidating but I pushed on, crossing towards Rubha Ruadh. Just short of the headland I sat awhile, watching heavy breakers washing over the skerries and quite suddenly, lost my nerve. The wind was relatively light but something just didn’t feel right. There is no margin for error, alone on the sea, and I turned the bow, heading back towards the safety of Loch Laxford. In fact the swell was growing rapidly and even before I passed the outer islands guarding the loch, I knew it was the right decision. It was an early lesson in listening to the inner voice.

Years later, I was back with two friends. There had been any number of trips in between but Handa remained, the lure of its vast cliffs and the great stack a call that had to be answered in the end.

We launched from Loch Laxford again, soon passing Rubha Ruadh and on, through the Sound of Handa, taking advantage of the island’s white sands for a short break before exploring the cliffs caves beyond.

The scale is hard to capture and the camera I had taken, a poor substitute for its predecessor which had finally succumbed to the salt. But it was a wonderful afternoon and for me, put the ghost of Handa to bed.

A last view of Handa that night from Scourie, before heading south.