Week 8: I Pissed in the Minch Sea

On Monday evening I decided to make the best of the nice weather (aside from two cloudy days, it's always been sunny; wind is the only problem) and venture out to Neist Point, the most westerly tip of Skye. Neist Point is home to a lighthouse which supposedly doubles as a B&B but other than two guys fishing off some rocks nearby and several campers back at the road, I didn't see any life at the light house.

It took me about two hours to get out to the point from Living Ark and by that time my beverage from dinner had caught up with me. Oddly, the Isle of Skye maintainers didn't anticipate my arrival and have a public toilet waiting for me. So, despite there being nobody else at the point (other than two guys fishing the other side of the light house), I sought out the privacy of some cliff rocks and relieved myself into the Minch Sea. Once I had gotten that out of the way, I was able to continue my visit of Neist Point.

Being so close to the Atlantic Ocean (only the Western Isles stood between me and the Atlantic), I felt I should venture as far as I could. A certain degree of thought for my safety may have kept me from going all the way to the edge but as I strolled along the rocks I heard the unmistakeable sound of a sea mammal exhaling. My stroll turned to a clamour as I made my way towards the edge, hoping to get a good look and some photos. I peered out into the bobbing blue sea trying desperately to put an image to the sound I had just heard. Soon enough, a few hundred meters out I saw the body of a whale as it slipped back into the water. Luckily for me I had only brought my 50mm lens, which would ensure that any pictures I attempted of the whale left it appearing as a black dot in an otherwise blue photo.

I stuck around for over half an hour hoping the whale would come closer, so at least one shot might add a bit of detail to my pictures of a black dot on blue. It seems that whales must be psychic because once I had given up and decided I should head back, I heard another exhale. Spinning around, I saw the dorsal fin slip into the water only fifty meters out, much closer than before. Hopefully, I’ll head back this week with my telephoto lens to get some better shots.


In the last blog post, I mentioned that there was another guy, Pete, staying at Living Ark who had hooked up with them through couchsurfer.com. He was supposed to look after the animals until he left on Wednesday. After that, feeding responsibilities would be mine. But while he was here he would show me the ropes. On the ride to Living Ark with Den last Sunday when I arrived, Den told me how Pete was really gung-ho about staying long-term at Living Ark. Den wanted him to think it through a bit longer, though, because, come on, who wants to live in a caravan long-term with no future plans or aspirations? It seems that Pete really did. That is until Den mentioned the contract that long-term volunteers have to sign. Den left at five that day and shortly after Pete did the same (without so much as a toodle-loo). I guess he wasn’t too chuffed about contracts.

It took me the better part of Monday to realize that Pete was gone and wasn’t returning. It was also obvious that the animals weren’t going to feed themselves. Luckily, Den had left some reminder notes out for volunteers and I was able to serve dinner for the critters.

Aside from feeding and a few odd jobs, my responsibilities have been slim, so I have spent the majority of the week doing some planning for future stops on the trip. That and reading (Call of the Wild and Never Cry Wolf) have occupied my time.

I arrive at my next location, Earthworm Housing Co-op, Saturday evening. And then June 22, I cross the border into France.

Missing my Macbook and broadband Internet connection,
Kasza