Mealasta to West Loch Roag (13.5Nm, 7hrs) via Aird Bhreinis, Ard Mor Mangurstadh & Gallan Head

Today was without a doubt the hardest day of the expedition so far, both physically and mentally.

I started off well. I planned the trip the night before and set my alarm for 7am so I could be away by 9ish. After a few 'snoozes' I got up and ate my pre-cooked porridge. The wind was chillingly cold so I sheltered behind a rock to eat. Then I packed stuff up, dragged the boat to the water's edge and packed it. Ready to go at 9.15am, fantastic, my earliest day yet!
It was still pretty breezy, probably F4/5 gusting 6. I had four headlands to round, with exposed open crossings in between and knew it wasn't going to be easy. So I set off, full of porridge/jam, on what was going to be the most difficult paddle of my life so far. What followed was 7hrs (not including breaks) into a F5/6 wind. At first, while I was still fresh, it wasn't too bad and I found refuge in the numerous inlets which although were still breezy, there were spots that were pretty sheltered. I had to have two lunches to keep me going, which were pasta and sauce, and beef olives, thanks to Iain from STV. I made it to the headlands one by one, Mangurstadh was a bleak place with spectacular cliffs and rock gardens, but nothing living there, no plants or birds - the rocks all looked new which made me think it was still eroding relatively fast. It didn't feel like a place that humans should be, so I carried on. The headlands behind me seemed to take forever to get closer! Eventually I got to Gallan Head and had another toilet/lunch stop. I felt refreshed but knew if something went wrong after this and I ended up on the rocks, me and my boat were as good as bananas in a food blender. So I carried on. The worst bit of swell was the first bit where the sea bed shallowed and the waves were reflecting and interfering with each other. I very slowly watched Gallan Head get further away. This was the worst part and I seriously questions my reasons for doing the trip. I cursed and swore and screamed as loud as I could at the wind and the waves as they played with me like a puppet.

I ate the last of the emergency food - boiled sweets - and was determined to make it! I could write a book about this, but to cut a long story short, eventually I made it to the camp site in West Loch Roag. I was wet and cold and needed to change into dry clothes. Then I needed to get away from the sea and the boat, so I took a walk into the village to use the phone. While I was on the phone telling family I was still alive, Paul who I'd met on the beach yesterday, popped round outside the box, signalling beer + food, which I was only too happy to accept! Paul and Alison gave me a nice pasta with tomato and vegetable sauce, then home made ice cream with Scottih raspberries and strawberries. Then offered me a shower which again I gratefully accepted - I also felt at least a kilogram lighter after the shower. On my way out Alison gave me a still-hot freshly baked cake. Again, I'm touched by the friendliness and generosity of the people I have met. I also left my sandals on Mealasta, so Paul gave me an old pair of shoes.

So I walked back to my campsite, hung clothes to dry and fell asleep in my bivvy, minus the tarp because if it's not going to rain, then it's more trouble than it's worth. I ate the whole of the cake on the 15min walk back!