Now, Mull is an awesome island. One of Scotland’s largest, it’s shaped like an inverted E and it has everything, from sea eagles and otters, to mountains and lakes, and the telegenic village of Tobermory. It has its own single-malt whisky distillery, boat trips to the incredible caves on Staffa and puffin therapy on the Treshnish Isles. All lovely stuff. But the best bit is the Ross.

The Ross is the long finger forming the southern arm of the backwards E. At its tip is the island speck of Iona, considered the seat of Christianity in Scotland. This is a glorious granite and grass lump fringed with sand, anchored by the abbey founded by St Columba in AD563 and home to around 120 people.

But – back to Craignure. Within 100 metres of leaving the ferry terminal and heading left to the Ross, we’re on a single-track road with passing places. It squeezes around the coast, past a couple of castles, strains up and over a mountain and back down to sea level, to the glacial gouge of Loch Scridain. After waiting for a woolly Highland cow to shuffle off the road, we ease along the Ross itself, following the wind and white-caps, always westward.

Before reaching the end of the world, we scrape the van between high stone walls to reach the southern side. Uisken Beach is a half-moon of sand with black-rock islands studding a cobalt sea. Campers each give Ronnie and Sheila Campbell £2 (which they give to the Royal National Lifeboat Institution) for the privilege of making the beach their home. And what a privilege. In the whole sweep of bay, we are only four, and our view is of sand, ocean and a seal on a rocky islet.

This is nearly a mistake. The tail wind picks up to Big Strength while we’re in the middle of the Sound of Iona and we land on the sacred isle with gritted teeth, clenched knuckles and wide eyes. But it’s instantly worth it? We have more white sand and just the crash of surf for company. It’s not a day to circumnavigate so we stay on the inner sound, planning to visit the abbey. But as we approach the slipway, a ferry docks and disgorges 16 busloads of people… so we turn and paddle very, very slowly, against the wind back to the mainland.

“We head for this, hoping for shelter and find the most extraordinary place. An embrace of bay with a mirror-flat sea and a swathe of pearlescent sand”

Our focus is a small chain of islands split from the Ross by a channel called the Bull Hole. We head for this, hoping for shelter and find the most extraordinary place. An embrace of bay with a mirror-flat sea and a swathe of pearlescent sand, leading to another bay. It is an isthmus of dreams. And on it is a man with his toddler son, who is playing, naked, as kids always used to be on beaches at that age, with a shell. The boy is sent off to his mum at a low, stone cottage perched on the edge of the beach and the man – Ben, an archaeologist from Glasgow – shows us a secret. We walk up a steep heather slope and into a cave, just large enough to stand in and long enough to lay a wrapped body. A hole in the wall gives a view of St Columba’s Abbey.

“This is the King’s Cave, where the body of kings were kept for a night, before being transported by boat to Iona for burial,” he tells us. I sit in the cave and stare at the abbey. It is the most poignant view of Iona, with the musty breath of the dark cavern and the misty memories of what once lay here.

Our final landing is the island of Erraid. Joined to the Ross at low tide, it is said to be the inspiration for Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel Kidnapped. Wet-golden sand links dunes pocked with wind-blown tussock grass; the shape changes constantly with the tide. It is a magical place, through its beauty and its transience.

Later, reluctantly, we begin the return journey. The kayaks are sliding through clear water in that smooth way only sleek fibreglass can. The rock gardens have been explored, beaches admired, narrow slots ridden on kindly waves. There is nothing left now except a final landing at Uisken and the long road south to the border. But – wait! As we approach the cliffs of Ardanalish Point, my eye is caught by distant splashing. We turn the kayaks to see a large pod of dolphin hunting mackerel – leaping, crashing, spinning. Making tight, coordinated circles, they force the fish into a food-wheel. The energy and aggression is palpable, and we watch in awe. Seeing something like this from sea level adds power to the performance; it is literally breathtaking, as if we’re immersed in an episode of Blue Planet II. No silence now, or solitude: this is the noise and hustle of nature at its best. It’s the perfect foil: our souls are refreshed, and it’s time to go home.

Do It Yourself:

Getting there:

Caledonian Macbryne runs regular ferries to Mull from various points on the mainland. Visit calmac.co.uk for timetables, pricing and further info.

Kayak rental & guides:

Judy and Duncan had their own kayaks, but visitors can rent sea kayaks and book guided expeditions from Arisaid Sea Kayak Centre (arisaigseakayakcentre.co.uk)

Further info:

For more info on the island visit isle-of-mull.net & visitscotland.com

To read the rest of Mpora’s Search Issue head here

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