Showing posts with label Book 1 Chapter 3. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book 1 Chapter 3. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Cara's Chapel of St Fionnlugh

My favorite island souvenirs are the little history books about an island that I find on the island. One of these was The Antiquities of Gigha, by the Rev. RSG Anderson. The book has been very popular. Originally published in 1936, a second edition came out three years later. The copy I bought on Gigha in 1992 is a reprint published in 1978.


I had come to Gigha back then to see if I could find someone to take me to the tiny isle of Cara, which lies a half-mile off the south tip of Gigha. I mainly wanted to sit in Cara's famous Brownie's Chair, but Anderson's little history book also led me to spend some time taking a close look at another of Cara's attractions: the chapel of St Fionnlugh; also referred to in a 17th century document as Cella Sanctissimae Trinitas - the Cell of the Holy Trinity.

The Chapel
The 6th century St Fionnlugh (the fair-haired hero), that the Cara chapel is dedicated to, was associated with a monastery on Eilean Mor, an island in Loch Finnlagan, 20 miles to the northwest on Islay. Saint Fionnlugh was a contemporary of St Columba, and is said to have saved Columba from a spear-wielding assassin on the island of Hinba. Fionnlugh is also known as the Hermit Saint of Islay, and so perhaps when he needed a break from the hustle and bustle of Islay he escaped for a little contemplative R&R on Cara.

Cara House and the Chapel seen from the south
In the 18th century the chapel was used as a kitchen for Cara House, which is only 20 feet away. The house itself dates to the 1730s, and many of the missing stones from the chapel probably form some of the substance of the house.

Cara House and the Chapel seen from the north
Cara is a beautiful name for an island. But it may not have a beautiful derivation. Alasdair Alpin Macgregor, in his Skye and the Inner Hebrides, says the name means corpse, and its profile seen from the mainland does resemble a prone body. Along those lines, TS Muir, writing in 1885, says the locals called it Dead Man Island. But I prefer a different derivation, one I found in a book on place names that says Cara means 'Dear One'. Another similar definition comes from Dwelly's Gaelic Dictonary, which lists Càra as a Gaelic word for friend. 

If you ever get the chance to go to Cara take it. I found it to be, like its name, a friendly island that likes to be visited.


Cara (looking slightly corpse-ish) seen from Gigha

The boatman awaits - Gigha seen from Cara

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Cara International

Cara International Airport - Gate 1A
The last post about Gigha reminded me of an odd, and memorable experience I had during a long stay on the island. While there I managed to get over to nearby Cara of the Brownie for a few hours. Sitting on the south end of Cara is the Brownie's Stone; a giant stone throne that is either a glacial erratic or, as I read long ago in a book I've forgotten the name of, a chunk of stone blown out of the hillside by a meteor.

It was wanting to find a way to get over to Cara and sit on the stone that had brought me to Gigha. But as sometimes happens, an experience you plan on is often surpassed by reality. For while sitting on the stone I had one of the most surreal island experiences ever. It was a hot spring day, and I'd just finished a red-tinny of MacEwens, when a tiny airplane swooped overhead and landed behind me on a swath of grassy terrain. Cara itself is tiny, just a mile long and a quarter wide, and the last place you'd expect an airplane to land.

There wasn't a Brownie at the controls, but a fellow I envied dearly for his ability for such daredevil island hopping. Maybe I'll try it myself someday.