
River Spey Canoe Trip
Posted 2019-09-29 04:46:18A wildlife guide once told me I should wear a hat with a peak when bird watching. ‘In bright light, if you look up to the sky to focus on a bird, the peak helps shade your eyes’, he said.
With the hope of spotting some rare birds on a canoe trip
down the River Spey, I followed his advice and wore a favourite cap, grey with
a red band round the peak.
I also wore a waterproof jacket, waterproof over trousers,
kneepads, old trainers and the most important addition to my less than
sartorially elegant outfit - a buoyancy aid.
Before getting on the water, our group, friends for many
years, had met the previous evening to acquaint ourselves with other pieces of
necessary kit that included paddles, waterproof storage bags, a rescue rope and
heavy blue plastic barrels which were something of a mystery. All of this
equipment plus our own individual luggage would be packed into the Canadian
canoes.
We were a party of seven which included our leader Dave
Craig – a vastly experienced canoe coach, whisky aficianado and sole proprietor
of the company Spirit of the Spey. Before heading out to a local hostelry for
dinner he had poured each of us a wee dram and we all raised a glass of 12 year
old malt in a toast to the success of our forthcoming adventure on the River
Spey.
The next morning we met on the banks of the river near
the Old Spey Bridge at Grantown-on-Spey. Here, still on dry land, we packed the
canoes, tied everything in and practised various paddling strokes that we would
need over the course of the next three days. Instructions in case of capsize
were listened to with rapt attention!
Then we slid the canoes down the bank and into the water.
Now we were ready. We set off in a line.
The river here is some 40 yards wide and appears black
with depth. For long stretches it runs rippled but placid with occasional breaks
showing white in the flow. When our canoes glance off unsighted half submerged
rocks, it’s a reminder we have to be ever vigilant. These rocks could cause
difficulties but we manage to steer clear of most of them.
Whenever there is a potential hazard ahead, such as a
bridge or rapids, Dave explains how we should tackle it before he goes ahead. We
then attempt to follow his line.
Along the river we pass a few fishermen and women. Usually
they are standing in the water, sometimes waist deep, casting a fly in the hope
of hooking an elusive Atlantic salmon. Here the grass banks have been cut to
allow easy access from the huts provided for their comfort. With a shout, Dave
attracts their attention as we approach and they let us know on which side they
would prefer us to pass to avoid their lines. From time to time large fish rise
and fall back into the water.
Beyond the edges, the river banks are thickly tree lined
with oak, birch and rowan. Higher up the slopes conifers reach for the sky.
We spot grey herons, buzzards, one red kite, numerous
ducks and one osprey. To follow the flight of these birds, I’m pleased to be
wearing my peaked hat.
Our first stop is at a fisherman’s hut. We enjoy a
substantial lunch, packed that morning in Grantown-on-Spey. Dave gets the
primus going. Tea and coffees are followed by a wee 12 year old whisky produced
nearby in Dufftown. We sniff and sip the whisky as instructed and listen to our
own expert who enthuses about this particular nip. Now we know what’s in the
blue barrels!
On this first day of paddling in fine weather we’ve
covered about 15 miles. In late afternoon we leave the water and while our
equipment is being transported, we walk the short distance to Cragganmore House.
Not so long ago these canoe trips involved overnight camping. Now the participants
partake of the hospitality, quaintness and excellent home cooking of this
family run guest house.
Cragganmore House can be found near the Cragganmore,
Ballindalloch and Glenfarclas distilleries. There’s no bar in the guest house but
it seems only natural, having brought our own makeshift bar to savour a pre-dinner
whisky aperitif in the guest’s lounge.
On day two, suitably rested and replenished we’re back on
the water in fine weather. The rapids we will meet today have acquired
reputations that have grown with each telling over the years and have been named
– the Washing Machine, Knockando and Millionaire’s rapids. These stretches of churning
white water are much longer than we’ve met so far. The waves are bigger, but we
bounce through – damper but undaunted - to calmer water.
In the afternoon we leave the river by the Thomas Telford
Bridge at Craigellachie to visit the new Macallan Distillery. It’s a vast
complex where whisky is made on an industrial scale. The tour with a
knowledgeable guide includes an impressive sound and light show. When it ends, visitors
are then entertained by the guide and offered small tastings of different
stages of a final aged and bottled product before exiting by the gift shop.
When we leave the distillery a prearranged taxi takes us to
Craigellachie Lodge. After another tasting session where slices of lemon add something
else to our whisky aperitifs we walk the short distance to the popular Copper
Dog pub in the Craigellachie Hotel.
For the menu here, locally sourced produce features as
much as possible. As well as our dinners, we enjoy the pleasant atmosphere,
live music and the ‘craic’ (conversation with many laughs) as they say in this part
of the Highlands.
Our overnight stay and fortifying breakfast before
leaving Craigellachie Lodge sets us up for our last day on the water. The
scenery may be glorious but we can’t see much through the mist and heavy rain.
It’s cold and we’re buffeted by a wind from the north. We paddle on, under bridges
and through rapids. But at a particularly big rapid, our canoe is caught
sideways in a standing wave. In the blink of an eye we’re tipped into the
water.
Our leader is aware of what’s happening and issues
instructions. I leave the now upturned canoe – turn on my back and with an
ungainly frog–like leg action, soon reach the shore. Being in the water is
actually warmer than being out. Meanwhile my canoeing partner has wrapped the
extended rescue rope round a large rock. It’s not long before we’re back in the
canoe and paddling once again. However, my hat has sailed on down the river.
Some distance away the hat is rescued. All is well until our
friends, in turn, now capsize. Once again the hat is sailing.
Further on we stop to meet old friends who now live
locally. They inform us the temperature is a mere 12 degrees centigrade. We
stand around, gratefully gulping the hot drinks and munching the chocolate
biscuits they have laid out on a picnic bench. Between drinks, time is spent
running and jumping on the spot – a futile attempt to get warm.
On this last day of paddling we had planned to meet the
sea at Spey Bay on the Moray coast. The weather is still miserable. The wind is
now blowing offshore. Conditions could not be much worse so we stop some yards
short of our planned destination.
As we’re cold and very wet it’s an effort to get the
canoes and other equipment stored safely aboard the trailer. When it’s done, we’re
more than glad to feel the warmth of the Spey Bay Café. Once changed out of our
sodden canoe clothes and supping hot soup the world appears much brighter. However,
I envisage my hat bobbing along, somewhere out in the North Sea by now.
But we are all in agreement. Our leader, though he is also
disappointed that the conditions prevented us from reaching the sea, has made
the right decision. Better to be safe than sorry.
While we still sit around the table, one of the last of
his many kind gestures on this memorable trip is to present each of us with a
new hat – blue with a peak and the embroidered wording ‘Spirit of the Spey’.
Further information: photos by Dave Craig
www.spiritofthespey.co.uk
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