Swim Locations

I’ve driven from the Cairngorms to Oban many times in recent years, but this time, the trip was a little different.

After a false start for our night swim adventure—when stormy weather and rough sea states cancelled our first attempt—we set off again with a positive forecast, clear skies, and rather a lot of excitement.

A West Coast Welcome

As soon as we hit the west coast and reached the first sea lochs near Fort William, we knew we were in for something special. The water was like glass—a perfect mirror reflecting the hills, with only the faintest shimmer.

As the light faded, the scene grew more magical. Sunbeams cut across the lochs like beacons, and Castle Stalker looked as if it had been painted onto the sky. Its reflection was sharper than the stone itself. By the time we rolled into Oban, the harbour had turned peach and red, the sun dipping low with not a breath of wind—and, mercifully, no midges.

Car Park Faff & Casting Off

We all met up in the car park before the swim. Most of the group knew each other already, but having travelled separately, it felt like a reunion of sorts, with lots of laughs and excitement. Meeting at 7pm before boarding a boat into the darkness was a little surreal, but I couldn’t have asked for a better group of adventure-hungry swimmy friends!

After the inevitable car park faff, we walked the ramp to the pontoons and boarded the familiar Basking Shark Scotland boat, with Shane as our captain and Evan as our wildlife guide.

We first headed towards Kerrera, home of the famous Craggy Island Triathlon, with the spectacular Gylen Castle looming over the bay. A ruined tower house at the south end of the island, Gylen sits dramatically on a promontory overlooking the Firth of Lorne. I’d swum there before in daylight—sun beams glittering through kelp beneath me, castle above me, a scene so mind-blowing it’s still etched in my memory. But this time, the wind and swell made it too exposed, so we turned back to find a calmer spot.

Gallanach Bay & a Bit of History

We settled on Gallanach Bay, a sheltered pocket of the mainland. Evan pointed out the crumbling building on the shore—it was once the western terminal of TAT-1, the very first transatlantic telephone cable system. Opened in 1956, it connected Oban with Clarenville in Newfoundland, enabling the first simultaneous voice calls across the Atlantic. A little slice of technological history, hidden in the quiet bay where we’d swim.

The boat slowed, sheep bleated invisibly on the hillsides, and we wriggled into wetsuits as Shane and Evan rigged up the lights. When the switch flicked, a green glow poured beneath the boat, lighting up sand and water. The darkness suddenly felt far less intimidating—almost welcoming.

Into the Water

The water was a balmy 15 degrees C compared to the Cairngorms’ 10 degrees C, though I still opted for a wetsuit (with the option of ditching it later).

With torches strapped to floats, we struck out in a triangular loop—towards shore, along the shallows, then back to the glow of the boat. The night swimming experience was magical: glowing floats of different colours bobbing like lanterns, stars glittering above, fish and crabs darting below.

At one point, Phil earned the nickname the moth, endlessly swimming towards any light source—floats, torches, even other swimmers. Cue a lot of chuckles as he bumped into people mid-stroke.

We paused for “star floats,” lying on our backs staring up at the Milky Way, satellites, and even a few shooting stars. The constellations were vivid—the Plough brighter than I’ve ever seen before.

Bioluminescence: Swimming Through Galaxies

Then came the real highlight. With the floats switched off and eyes adjusted to the dark, bioluminescence sparked to life.

This was my third time seeing it, but it never gets old. Tiny white sparks of light burst around us, like swimming through galaxies beneath the stars. Every stroke agitated the water into glowing fireworks.

Some of us sculled gently, others whisked or waved our hands vigorously underwater, and even those still on the boat could see sparks flying off our hands and feet. I developed a funny little whisking motion (or, as my little one would say, wind the bobbin up), while my brother perfected his karate-chop style. Whatever the stroke, it worked—the darker the water, the brighter the sparks.

What is Bioluminescence?

As my friend, ethnobotanist Susanne Masters, explains:

“Bioluminescence is the biochemical emission of light by organisms that might live along the shoreline or in the sea. Concentrations of creatures such as dinoflagellates—microscopic algae—can result in an otherworldly, sparkly swim. They capture energy from the sun and store it as luciferin, a light-bearing protein. When disturbed at night, they trigger a chemical reaction that breaks down luciferin and releases light—thought to be a defence against predators. In summer, calm seas and warmth help them aggregate. On a night swim, as your body moves through the water, little sparks appear. A duck dive down is like jumping into the Milky Way.”

If you want to learn more, Susanne and I created Wild Waters: A Wildlife and Water Lover’s Companion to the Aquatic World. It dives deeper into wonders like this. Here is one of my illustrations from the book!

Coming Back to Shore

Eventually, the cold crept in and we swam back towards the boat. I stripped off my wetsuit in the water—a much easier choice than wrestling it off on deck. (Note to self: next time bring a head torch. A float light works, but rummaging for dry socks by glow-stick isn’t ideal.)

Back onboard, we passed around chocolate, peanut butter–stuffed dates, and Percy Pigs. The boat hummed quietly across flat water, everyone sunk in that shared silence that comes only after something extraordinary.

Reflections

It’s hard to put into words just how perfect the night was. Clear skies, no wind, glowing water, a bunch of like-minded adventurers, and stars above us—it felt impossible to recreate. But even if it had been cloudy, even without the Milky Way, the magic of wild swimming and open water swimming at night would have been enough.

This swim really transformed my relationship with swimming in the dark. Up until now, my most vivid memories of night swimming have been tied to long-distance marathon swims—either setting off at 3am into pitch darkness for my English Channel solo, swimming right through the night on Loch Lomond, or starting and finishing in the dark on Loch Awe. Some of those experiences were good, others absolutely terrifying, but all of them were framed as part of a much bigger challenge. This time was different. To simply slip into the water at night, with the floodlights glowing around the boat and the incredible stars scattered across the sky, felt utterly transformational. I think I’m actually going to enjoy my next long-distance night swims!

Huge thanks to Shane and Evan, and to Lynda—my adventure planning partner in crime. We’ve talked about doing this for ages, and finally, it happened. Next year, we’re hoping to make night swims part of our bigger West Coast Adventure swim holiday. And if this was just the beginning… I honestly can’t wait.

Practical Kit List for a Night Swim

• Goggle or snorkel mask – to see the incredible underwater world and search for bioluminescence!

• Wetsuit (or skins if you’re hardy!) – you can even hire 7mm snorkelling wetsuits from Basking Shark Scotland if you are worried about the cold and want to stay in for longer.

• Extra neoprene accessories – hat, gloves, socks, vest – whatever extra bits and pieces you want to keep you toasty warm in the water.

• Tow float with light – visibility is essential. A bike light inside a tow-float works well, or attach waterproof LED lights to the outside of the float.

• Head torch – especially useful for pre- and post-swim faff on the boat.

• Torch/underwater light – optional – for spotting fish, crabs, and sparks below (these can also be hired from Basking Shark Scotland).

• Warm layers for afterwards – e.g. a warm changing robe, woolly hat and gloves.

• Snacks & hot drink – chocolate, dates, Percy Pigs… whatever fuels you best.

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This was a recce trip for our 2026 West Coast Adventures.

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A Bleary-Eyed Start for a Sea Swim Adventure

The day began brutally early. My alarm went off at 3:45am after barely any sleep. Late the previous evening, CalMac ferries had sent word that our departure was an hour earlier than planned. Our new meet time: 4:45am.

Through bleary eyes, I was grateful to Lynda for putting the kettle on. A quick tea, bags packed, and off we went, walking through Oban’s dark streets to the ferry terminal. For a moment, with the doors still locked and no signs of life, we wondered if this early start was a hoax. Eventually, a hi-vis-clad worker arrived to let us in, and soon we were boarding with a group of excited Venture Trust teenagers.

Ferry Views: Islands of the Inner Hebrides

The two-and-a-half-hour ferry crossing was classic Hebrides: dramatic light shifts, drizzle, and unforgettable views of the Isle of Eigg, Staffa, and the Treshnish Isles.

Landing on the Isle of Coll, we walked past dozing sheep to meet our rib from Coastal Connections, captained by Struan with his crew and wildlife guide Ben. The plan for the day: a swim off the Isle of Gunna, a glimpse of Tiree, and then a wild swim at Tobermory waterfall on Mull.

Wild Swimming at Gunna: Seals, Shags, and Turquoise Water

Approaching Gunna, the sheltered bay looked idyllic. The rocks were alive with seabirds—shags—perched in their hundreds. A seal’s head popped up, curious but distant.

It was time for the first wild swim. Entry was less than graceful: a bounce-and-splash into turquoise water, five metres deep with a sandy bottom. A slight tidal current tugged us sideways, but it was a short crossing to the beach.

On land, the island was breathtaking. Golden sand dunes, dramatic striped rocks in greys, silvers, and pinks, and swathes of kelp washed ashore.

Gunna itself is fascinating. Nestled between Coll and Tiree, it’s only 500 metres wide at its widest point and completely uninhabited—apart from a single holiday house. These days it belongs mostly to seabirds, seals, and, seasonally, sheep brought over from Coll. Remote, wild, and beautiful, it’s the perfect wild swimming spot.

A Glimpse of Tiree Before Heading to Mull

After a windswept clothes change, we carried on towards Tiree. One of our group, Hela, had missed out on visiting the island for her 70th birthday due to storms, so it felt special to bring her here—even if only by water.

But the seas were getting rougher, with big erratic waves. Once Struan opened up the throttle, the rib skimmed more easily through the swell. I promptly fell asleep and woke up in the calmer Sound of Mull, ready for our next swim.

Sea Swimming at Tobermory Waterfall

At Tobermory, we stopped at a small waterfall I’d swum before—but this time the water was completely different. Last time it had been dark and silty after heavy rain. Today it shimmered jade-turquoise, clear enough to dive down and explore.

I spotted starfish and, more excitingly, the Common Sea Urchin (Echinus esculentus)—also known as the Edible Sea Urchin. These pinkish-purple creatures are the largest sea urchins found around the Hebrides. Their roe is considered a delicacy in many parts of the world.

Lion’s Mane jellyfish drifted nearby, but we avoided stings and swam carefully back to the rib.

Post-Swim Hot Chocolate in Tobermory

Once ashore, there was only one destination on my mind: the Tobermory Chocolate Shop. Last time I’d had the best hot chocolate ever, and this time was no different.

Faced with the choice of small, regular, or Death by Chocolate, I foolishly played it safe with a regular. Still delicious—especially with cream and marshmallows—but definitely not big enough. Thankfully, Lynda ordered a pot of tea and ginger cake, so between us we warmed up nicely while the rain hammered down outside.

Heading Back via Duart Castle

The journey back to Oban included a dramatic stop at Duart Castle on Mull—always spectacular from the sea. And just to add to the day’s surprises, I bumped into Struan’s identical twin on the pier. Nobody had warned me they were twins, and the resemblance was uncanny.

Finally, it was time for a hot shower and the long drive home, still buzzing from a day of Hebridean wild swimming, wildlife sightings, laughter, and of course, that hot chocolate.

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This was a recce trip for our 2026 West Coast Adventures. (We promise there won’t be any super-early morning ferries to catch – just fabulous days adventuring on the smaller boat from Oban).

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After a whole load of toddler shenanigans, I finally set off on the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Oban to meet Lynda at around two o’clock. Thankfully, traffic through Fort William wasn’t the nightmare it had been last time, and I even managed a sneaky stop at M&S to stock up on swim snacks!

I rolled into town almost exactly on time—though the parking situation was a bit confusing—and then hopped into Lynda’s car. We headed down to Ellenabeich, where we joined the rest of the group and waited for the teeny, tiny ferry to Easdale Island.

Ferry Rides and Rainbows (Bridge Over the Atlantic, Isle of Seil)

On the way, the rain absolutely poured down, and things didn’t look promising. But as we boarded the ferry, the sky began to shift. Looking back towards Seil (which you cross before reaching Ellenabeich via the famous Bridge over the Atlantic), I spotted the most beautiful rainbow arching across the sky. That little flash of colour gave me hope we’d get a good weather window for our wild swim.

Arriving on Easdale is like stepping into another world. There are no cars—just upturned wheelbarrows with house names painted on them, ready for residents and visitors to cart belongings across the island. A charming little stone ferry office greets you, and on this trip, I noticed a new addition—a tiny play park. My toddler would love it, so I’ll definitely have to bring him back sometime.

We passed the museum (sadly not open), and glanced at The Puffer (the island’s pub/restaurant). It didn’t look very lively, but the lights were on, and I caught a glimpse of someone inside. I thought maybe we’d stop in for a hot chocolate later… though the weather had other plans.

Into the Slate Quarries

With more rain looming, we decided on just one swim. The first swimmable quarry felt like the best bet—steep, yes, but easier to get into than the famous L-shaped “swimming pool,” which involves a fair bit of scrambling over loose slate.

Getting changed at the side, the water looked an incredible deep jade. That first plunge was bracing—probably around 15°C.  Once you’re in, the chill melts away, and it feels like you could swim forever.

The quarry is dramatic. One moment, you can touch the bottom, the next it drops off into green-black depths. Cue lots of giggling: “one more step and… nope, can’t touch anymore!” Classic open-water swimming antics.

The visibility wasn’t quite as crisp as my last blue-sky visit—a slight haze this time—but it was still beautiful. Brackish, slightly salty, and utterly inviting. None of us wanted to get out.

What struck me most was the shift from my first visit. Back then, swimming alone, the deep water spooked me a bit. This time, in a group, it felt joyful, safe, even playful. Easdale is magical solo, but with company, it’s even better. Wild swimming community for the win!

Wandering Easdale (Heather, Honesty Boxes & Quarry Nicknames)

After drying off, we wandered across the island, exploring other quarries (I’ve swum in all of them before). The heather was unreal—vivid purple against the brooding grey clouds. I could not stop taking photos.

I took a little detour to the southwest corner pool. We looped back to the village, where some of the group picked up handmade soaps from the honesty box shop.

Back at the ferry, the ferryman shared the local nicknames: the “swimming pool” (the L-shaped one), the “stone-skimming pool,” and—less glamorously—the “rubbish pool,” where storms wash in all sorts of debris. I’ve swum there and enjoyed it, but now I know what the locals call it… slightly less appealing!

Easdale in the Guidebook

If you want to dig into the history of Easdale, its flooded slate quarries, and the best swimming spots (with tips on safe entry points), I’ve covered it all in my book Swimming Wild in Scotland.

Easdale might be tiny, but it has a fascinating past—from its slate industry heyday to the storm of 1881 that changed the island forever. These quarries are not just beautiful swim spots; they’re steeped in stories. The guidebook also includes detailed directions, access info, and recommendations for food stops like The Puffer and The Oyster.

Homeward Bound (and Essential Oban Fish & Chips)

We caught the ferry back and piled into the car again. One quick stop at the Bridge over the Atlantic for photos, then back to Oban for the only correct ending to a day of ferries and quarries: fish and chips (at Oban Fish & Chip Shop – my favourite!) Perfection.

Practical Bits (for fellow swimmers & day trippers)

• Location: Easdale Island via Ellenabeich, Isle of Seil (Argyll & Bute), reached over the Bridge over the Atlantic.

• Vibe: No cars, wheelbarrows for luggage, compact village, museum, The Puffer pub/restaurant. Home to the World Stone Skimming Championships!

• Swimming: Multiple slate quarries; only three have suitable entries. Steep drop-offs; water can be brackish. Map and lots more detailed information in my guidebook.

• Family note: New play park since my last visit—My little one would be thrilled.

• Best paired with: An Oban day trip, rainbow chasing, and salty chips on the harbour.

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Stormy Start

July 5th, 2025, greeted us with winds, rain, and almost zero visibility—the kind of weather you don’t expect in summer. Our two-day adventure with Basking Shark Scotland didn’t look promising. But Shane, our guide, was optimistic, hinting at potential minke whale watching around Mull and exciting swims. We set off with hope—and raincoats.

First Wildlife Spotting: Minke Whales

Meeting Shane and Ben, his wildlife guide, we headed into the sheltered channel between the Isle of Mull and the Ardnamurchan peninsula. Despite the downpour, the channel offered protection from the worst of the wind.

Our first stop was north of Tobermory. At first, it didn’t look promising, but soon a lone minke whale surfaced multiple times—a magical moment that reminded us why sea swimming in Scotland is about so much more than just the swims.

Calm Waters, Tidal Adventure

Next, we found a tiny tidal channel with glassy, calm water. Shane and I mapped a one-kilometre swim route, navigating the tidal flow. Swimming through the narrows, the current rushed beneath us, giving the thrilling illusion that we were flying over rocks and seaweed.

It was an unforgettable introduction to wild swimming in Scotland—combining currents, scenery, and adventure in equal measure.

Swimming Under a Waterfall

After our tidal swim, we headed to a dramatic waterfall flowing straight into the sea. The rain had swollen it, making the cascade even more spectacular. We swam right up to it and even underneath into a hidden rocky crevice.

Few places offer the chance to literally swim in the sea and underneath waterfalls. Scotland, and especially the Isle of Mull, is one of them!

Chocolate Shop in Tobermory

Warmed up and dripping, we explored Tobermory. Hot chocolate and ice cream from the local chocolate shop made for an irresistible treat. The colourful harbour village is a must for anyone planning Mull adventure travel—whether you’re swimming, hiking, or just sightseeing.

Day Two: South Coast of Mull

Early the next morning, we headed to the southern coast of Mull. The wind had shifted, making some swims ideal and others too rough. We settled on Traigh Gheàl, a sandy, sheltered bay, and miraculously, the sun appeared as we swam.

Later, we visited the Isle of Erraid for another swim at Traigh Gheàl (also known as Balfour’s Bay). Some of the group stayed onshore, but for those who swam, it was an unforgettable experience in a previously undiscovered spot.

One Last Waterfall

Our final swim brought us to a powerful waterfall along the coast. Despite its force, Ben guided us underneath safely. It was the perfect finale to an incredible weekend of outdoor adventure in Scotland.

Reflections

We stayed at Oban Youth Hostel, which had a fantastic drying room for all our wet gear. Dinner at Kaina that night—a massive calzone followed by pudding—was the perfect end to our first day.

The weather wasn’t ideal, but the wildlife encounters, stunning scenery, and epic swims made this trip unforgettable. I left excited for future adventures with Basking Shark Scotland tours, already planning the next trip.

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