Kayakers regularly pass by the island, normally in groups of three or four. Most of them seem to put in around Whiterock and follow the western shoreline south, making use of the archipelago of little islands (of which Islandmore is one) for shelter. On Monday, which was blisteringly hot, I had just finished scrubbing the jetty and decided to go for a swim. I was up to my waist when a chap came by in his kayak. He was against the sun so all I can say is that he was wearing a floppy ‘bushman-style’ hat; but he introduced himself as a Presbyterian minister from Belfast and was kind enough to say how much he enjoyed my book. Nice chap. I’m not into kayaking but I do have wonderful memories of messing about in an Indian canoe in the Canadian Rockies: it was a glacial lake so the water was ice-blue and crystal-clear, swimmable but not for the faint-hearted. The advantage of an open canoe is that you can pack food and a tent and go two-up.