The Svalbard Triangle – Isle of Lunga – Day 6

How do you like your Eigg in the morning?

Today it’s a little misty and moody – which is fine with us.

It’s a bit too windy for swimming this morning, but bodes well for a spot of sailing. But first – breakfast!

Chef Caroline’s infamous compote:

And some Mallaig sourdough:

Now it’s time to go sailing. Speaking of which – a view from the helm for those curious:

And immediately behind it, my “office”:

It’s a lovely spot for a post-dinner drink, too – you get some fresh air when the windows are open, but not the full blast of the North Atlantic wind.

Off we go, away from the Isle of Eigg. We spot a heron on the way out:

Again, the views are breathtaking:

It’s a long sail today – roughly 5 hours to get to the Isle of Lunga.

Eventually the wind slackens off. We continue to sail, but add a bit of motor to help keep our speed.

We come across Ardnamurchan Lighthouse – the westernmost lighthouse in the mainland United Kingdom.

The only lighthouse in the world done in the Egyptian style

We spot a few seabirds:

Though Peter remarks that we’re seeing less wildlife than we would normally.

This is one of the few stretches that gets the swell from the North Atlantic – it’s not high, maybe a metre or two at most – but you really feel it in a smaller boat, especially when it’s hitting you broadside.

We’ve been lulled into a false sense of security by the calmness of the initial leg of our journey, and have neglected to keep up with our seasickness meds. It’s a mistake that some of us will come to regret.

But eventually we reach a more sheltered area – which comes as a real relief.

We pause briefly for lunch – a delicious pasta salad:

We’re getting close to Lunga now. Ciarnn a Burgh Mor – and the ruins of the Cairnburgh Castle – come into view.

This was once a stronghold of the MacDougall clan before being forfeited to the crown in 1309 and later occupied by the MacDonalds on behalf of the King.

We even spot a puffin in the water:

And soon Lunga comes into view:

There are a few other boats here:

It’s a popular day trip out of Oban.

We anchor, and take the dinghy to the beach. There’s no jetty here, so it’ll be a wet landing. We debate bringing our hiking shoes, but elect to just go in sandals instead.

The rocks are somewhat slippery – and tough to balance on – but we pick our way to the path without any major stumbles.

And is all that work worth the end result?

Without a shadow of a doubt.

Lunga is one of those rare places – like South Georgia – where wildlife is absolutely running riot. We are completely overwhelmed with puffins:

Amazingly, these puffins are only here from April through mid-August – at which point they will head out to the open ocean until next year.

A brief moment of panic among the puffins, as a white tailed eagle appears – being harrassed by a gull (not pictured).

But soon calm returns:

The pufflings – as baby puffins are adorably called – can be identified by their black faces and beaks.

Sometimes its quite subtle:

And other times very prominent:

The puffins will rub their beaks against one another as a bonding ritual:

And they will open their beaks wide as a sign of warning:

Though it’s tough to look ferocious when you have an adorable little puffin tongue

Some work on gathering nesting supplies for their burrows:

While others fly out to do a bit of fishing:

Then fly back after a successful outing:

They aren’t the most graceful of fliers, but they get the job done.

And mostly, we just sit and soak it all in for a while.

Words don’t really do it justice – either the scale, or the sheer volume of activity. Though video gives another perspective:

We do eventually carry on the path a while:

We pass some razorbills:

And their hatchling, hidden between the rocks:

And a juvenile cormorant with its parent:

We carry on down to Harp Rock:

And an immense guillemot colony:

We arrived close to 2 pm, and we have until 4:30 pm – give or take. That means that we have a little less than an hour left.

And in the meantime? While we were admiring the guillemots, the tour groups cleared out. We have the entirety of Lunga to ourselves (and an official ranger).

What a treat.

(Though the path has somehow become more difficult.)

They do move off when you get close.

However, we’re growing concerned that some of the grey on the horizon might be heading our way, but Caroline says she expects it to miss us. Phew. No need to rush off.

I take a few minutes to dash up one of the higher paths to see what I can see:

And there’s a lovely view, but nothing else in terms of wildlife:

So back down I go to revisit the puffins – and have a quick chat with the ranger. She confirms the black headed puffins are indeed pufflings and not melanistic puffins which was our first guess.

The ranger also notes it’s been an absolute bumper year for puffins on Lunga. Normally there are around 8,000 breeding pairs and their chicks. Data isn’t in yet but she says it’s been a fantastic season for them. They do show antibodies consistent with exposure to bird flu, but it does not seem to affect them that badly.

Eventually it’s time to return to Zuza, raise anchor and depart for Ulva on the Isle of Mull.

We briefly spot dolphins along the way – but they’re gone before I can photograph them. Ah, well.

We curve around the south of Mull. The skies clear off, and the weather is perfect for a bit more sailing.

Peter raises only the jib, but it’s enough that we can make 5 knots. Plenty for us to reach Ulva in time for dinner.

The motor is shut off, and we simply sail along in silence.

The basalt columns here are the same type as you’d find at Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland. The other side of it can be found at the nearby Isle of Staffa.