To the Flannans!

I was browsing through photos from my last trip to Lewis and came across this one that brought a smile to my face; a 'toast' to the Flannan Isles, made from the slopes of Mealaisbhal. (The Flannans can be seen on the horizon.) Two months earlier we had been fortunate to land there during my guide trip on Hjalmar Bjorge. There is one spot left for next year's cruise, which will visit the islands to the south and west of Mull. See the Northern Lights website for more information.

Slainte - To the Flannans!

Here is a very abridged version of the Flannan poem by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson. You can find the full text at this link.

Though three men dwell on Flannan Isle

To keep the lamp alight,

As we steer'd under the lee, we caught

No glimmer through the night!

We landed; and made fast the boat;

And climb'd the track in single file,

Each wishing he was safe afloat,

On any sea, however far,

So it be far from Flannan Isle:

And still we seem'd to climb, and climb,

As though we'd lost all count of time,

And so must climb for evermore.

Yet, all too soon, we reached the door--

The black, sun-blister'd lighthouse door,

That gaped for us ajar.

Yet, as we crowded through the door,

We only saw a table, spread

For dinner, meat and cheese and bread;

But all untouch'd; and no one there:

As though, when they sat down to eat,

Ere they could even taste,

Alarm had come; and they in haste

Had risen and left the bread and meat:

Aye: though we hunted high and low,

And hunted everywhere,

Of the three men's fate we found no trace

Of any kind in any place,

But a door ajar, and an untouch'd meal,

And an overtoppled chair.

We seem'd to stand for an endless while,

Though still no word was said,

Three men alive on Flannan Isle,

Who thought on three men dead.