The Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge - Season 4, Episode 5 of 5

The Continuing Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge
Season 4 - Episode 5 of 5 - Gale Riding to Canna and Return to Oban
Exploring the Isles of the West Cruise    July 10-19, 2019

After our visit to the Flannans we made an uneventful sail through the Sound of Harris. After passing the low lying isles of Ensay and Killigray, we motored around Berneray, Hermetray, and Rubha an Fhigheadair (Weaver's Point), before dropping anchor in Bagh Aird nam Madadh, a small bight in the coast east of Lochmaddy.

Even though the forecast was dreadful, we woke to seemingly calm conditions Wednesday morning (July 17th). But it was oh-so deceptive. As usual, Mark had chosen the perfect anchorage for the conditions. The vast bulk of North Uist was sheltering us from a big southerly blow that was starting to brew.

After breakfast we headed into the Minch: our destination Canna, 40 nautical-miles to the southeast. The fun began 15 minutes later when we rounded Rubha nam Pleac to enter the Minch. The winds hit, the waves hit, the swells hit. It was dangerous to move about, so we sat glued to our seats in the saloon. Suddenly Dave got up, and dashed down the passageway. We would not see him for hours. We assumed he'd been sick, and had gone down to his cabin. As it turned out, he'd headed up to the wheelhouse, where he would end up being trapped for the duration of the storm.

Trapped is apt. We were all trapped in place - for as the ship rocked and rolled there was no way to safely move about. The sea was washing across the deck, to slowly drain out the scuppers. But several times a large wave would drench the stern, and splash back through the rear doorway into the saloon. So one brave soul (I don't recall who) got up to latch the door shut. We'd left it open for the fresh air, which helps stave off seasickness. But even with the hatch closed, and the inside temperature on the rise, no one got sick. It was quite impressive. Usually someone gets sea-sick during these wild conditions.

At one point the ship rose fast on a high swell, followed by a sudden free-fall that had us all momentarily floating in air - weeeee!  Wolfgang, who'd been anchored to a deck chair, also enjoyed a moment of weightlessness. Then, as the ship suddenly bottomed out on a low trough, he crashed back down, causing the chair to collapse. Luckily he was only bruised; unlike the chair, which was broken beyond repair.

I wish I had photos to share of that dramatic crossing. But I don't. I'd not been prepared. The camera was down in my cabin, which lay below deck aft of the engine room. There was no way I could retrieve it without getting injured and/or incurring the skipper's wrath. (I think keel-hauling, forty lashes, walking the plank - or all the above - are the recommended punishments for entering the engine room in a full-blown gale.)

But Michelle had been prepared. She took this video of Don singing a sea shanty during the worst of the crossing.

The following stitched-image of frame captures from the video shows us glued in place around the saloon table. It's not a smooth composite due to the changing camera angle, but I think the zigs and zags give a feel for all the zigs and zags we experienced for several hours.

After a six-hour beating the conditions gradually improved, and as Canna came into view it was possible to move about. Once in Canna Harbour the anchor was dropped, and we were set ashore for a few hours. I led most the guests on a circular tour that included the pencil-tower church, John Lorne Campbell's Grave, Canna High Cross, and the Punishment Stone.

 

After the tour, everyone set off on their own to explore. I wandered over the footbridge to Sanday, to follow a track constructed to serve the newly built windmills.

Shrine at Sanday Bridge - note Canna cat at lower left

After exploring the new track, which avoids the high-tide blockage of the old track, I crossed the bridge back to Canna, where a mystery was solved. We had seen several cat statues as we'd hiked across the island: including one at John Lorne Campbell's grave, and another at the Sanday bridge. The mystery was solved at An Taighe-bainne (the dairy house), where I came across a poster explaining the cats.

The poster read: This trail on Canna uses John and Margaret Campbell's cats of Canna House to tell stories of the house, garden and the island. Each stone puss is named after one of those cats and you are encouraged to track all the cats down and tick them off the 'clue-sheet"... You can then post selfies of yourselves with your favourite puss on the dedicated facebook page where you will find more stories of each character.

What a great idea someone had to encourage children to learn about the island. The cat's facebook page is: https://www.facebook.com/CannaCatsgalore/

With the mystery of the cats solved, I returned to Canna Cafe in time to find several of the guests enjoying tea (or something harder). I ordered something harder, and joined them at the tables in front of the cafe, the setting sun casting long shadows across the harbour with ominous skies off to the east.

We had a peaceful night at anchor in the harbour - a welcome respite from the day's wild ride. In the morning we set sail to the southwest, to eventually pass the cliffs of Rum before rounding Ardnamurchan Point to enter the calm waters of the Sound of Mull.

Cliffs of Rum

Duart Castle under repair -Sound of Mull

Once through the sound we set a course south past the elegant William Black Memorial Lighthouse. For the story of the light see Book 2, chapter 27.

Next up was Grass Point on Mull, once the main connection to Oban, and from where cattle were sent to the mainland via the island of Kerrera. The old ferry house is still there, and can be rented as self catering accommodation.

Grass Point and the ferry house

After spotting an eagle eyrie on the short cliffs north of Rubha na Faoilinn (seagull point), we entered Loch Spelve, where the anchor was dropped near the old steamer pier at Croggan.

We had a couple hours ashore. Half the group decided to look for otters near where several streams enter the loch. I led the rest in a quest to find Balgamrie, also known as Old Croggan Village. Having heard Mark describe it on many previous trips, I've always wanted to see Old Croggan, a township ruin of two-dozen homes abandoned in the late 19th century.

It was a two-mile walk to a cottage at the end of the shore track, from where Mark told us we could climb the hillside to reach the village. But it was not to be. We made it to the cottage, and then started up the hill. It was not just a hill, it was a slanted swamp. The storm had left the ground sodden, and with each step your boots would plunge into the quagmire. In addition, the bracken was head high.

We had to acknowledge defeat and turn around. The only way to get to the village would be with hip waders, machetes, and an extra hour of time. You can read more about Old Croggan at https://canmore.org.uk/site/22651/balgamrie-mull.

Balgamrie - Old Croggan Village

At the crack of dawn Friday morning (July 19th) the engines fired up, and we set off for the one-hour motor back to Oban. Why the early start? It was because the Oban Marina, contrary to promises made during its development, does not allow you to book a berth on the pontoons. That meant an early start is needed to insure getting a spot large enough for a ship the size of Hjalmar Bjorge. Just as we set out I called our spy in Oban (my wife, Shawna) to ask if there were any spots at the marina. She was ensconced in an apartment high atop the Old Oban Times building, which looks directly down on the pontoons. She told us there was still a berth, which made Mark give a cheer.

Once moored up in Oban we enjoyed a full breakfast before saying our goodbyes. It had been a fantastic trip, and we'd set foot on some of the most remote isles of the Hebrides. I hope to see you all again, somewhere in the Hebridies.

PS: There is one berth available for next year's cruise (for a female sharing). See this Northern Lights Page for more information.

Small Isles - Ardtornish - Oban

Final Episode (for 2017, anyway) in the Continuing Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge

Hebridean Cruise - May 20 to 29, 2017

May 27: It was the day after our Flannan landing, and in the morning we started off on the six-hour cruise from Scarista down to Canna. It is a fascinating passage, one that starts with transitioning past the myriad isles in the Sound of Harris. Once past Rodal, a straight as an arrow course of 160 degrees took us across the Little Minch to the high cliffs near Neist Point on Skye, and then on down through The Sea of the Hebrides to Canna.

As you can tell from the photos, the sky was a bit overcast as we passed Canna's prison rock. Five minutes later the engines throttled down to a stop in Canna Harbour.

Once ashore we started with a look at the exhibition on Canna history in the Rocket Church; its bell-tower a small scale version of an Irish round tower. It is Church of Scotland, and was built in 1911 for use by visiting fishermen. But it's rarely used as such these days.

Inside the bell tower

Then a walk in the woods near Canna House took us past the grave of John Lorne Campbell, who died in Italy in 1996. He was originally buried there, but they reinterred him on Canna in 2006. For the story of Campbell's life see The Man Who Gave Away His Island, by Ray Perman.

Just beyond Campbell's grave is a hidden meadow called A' Chill, the site of St Columba's monastery. Aside from a large, intricately carved cross (8th century), there's nothing left of the monastery. The cross is missing one arm and its head. The story is that soldiers used it for target practice a few hundred years ago.

Canna Cross - bottom panel shows Mary holding Jesus, to the right is one of the Magi 

Leaving the site of the monastery we had to tip-toe past a massive black bull – fortunately no one was wearing red. (You can see him sitting contentedly near the gate in the next photo.)

We still had time for a longer walk, and so it was off to another island - via a handy bridge - the island of Sanday. Our destination was St Edward’s Church.

St Edward's, built in 1860, is quite impressive from the outside. A lot of money was spent to renovate it for use as a Gaelic study centre using the Canna House Archives. But I doubt if it will ever be used as one because the interior is heavily damaged by water ingress. The story of the chapel's renovation, which is both inspiring and depressing, is told in Restoring Canna's Chapel by Alasdair Ross McKerlich (2007); a fascinating book that details the work done on the church from 1998 to 2001. (See the October 12, 2015 post for more.)

After looking in the church we made our way back to Canna and went in search of the Prison. (I have posted several times on The Prison - see the Nov 14, 2014 and April 3, 2017 posts). Some 200 years ago it caught the eye of Sir Walter Scott, and he included it in his epic poem The Lord of the Isles:

From Canna’s tower that, steep and grey,

Like falcon-nest o’erhangs the bay.

Seek not the giddy crag to climb

To view the turret scathed by time:

It is a task of doubt and fear

To aught but goat or mountain deer

Built into the top of the 80-foot stack is a fortified building, ‘the turret scathed by time’. This turret is a mini-castle called The Prison; a name stemming from a tale that the wife of a chief had once been imprisoned there. When we reached the base of the stack it looked like the castle at its top could tumble down at any moment. I also noticed that the tiny sign put up by the National Trust 20 years ago to discourage climbers has been replaced by a larger one, along with a length of rope blocking (sort of) the access point. (We did not climb the stack.) 

The Prison depicted as 'The Witches' Home' by Richard Doyle

Once back at Canna Harbour we had time to enjoy a few drinks at the Canna Café, which I was glad to see is back in business.

Cafe Canna

When time came to rejoin Hjalmar Bjorge the cafe had filled up, doing a good business feeding (and slaking the thirst) of visitors from the dozen or so sailboats at anchor in the harbour. But they would have to do without our custom. We had our own excellent chef, and soon settled into another sumptuous three course meal. Canna Harbour is almost always a calm anchorage, and during the night the dead calm of the sea was only interrupted a few times when we'd roll in the wake of an arriving boat.

May 28: The twenty-eighth would be the last full day of the cruise, and after breakfast we made a smooth crossing 20 miles to the southeast to anchor off Port Mor in Muck Harbour. Along the way we traversed the south coast of Rum. The island looked eerie, as the high tops of the Rum Cullins were shrouded in thick clouds.

The mouth of Harris Glen and cloud-capped Ruinsival (Rum)

Adding to the eeriness was the sight of the Bullough's Grecian temple mausoleum, which you can see in the next photo. It is truly the oddest grave-site in the Hebrides.

The mausoleum (from a walk in 1997)

Once we anchored at Muck it took two trips in the RIB to get us all ashore.

Muck Landing

Once ashore, I led most of the guests on an easy stroll across the island to the white sands of Gallanach. And from there out to Aird nan Uain, the headland of the Lamb, to see the unusual MacEwan burial ground. (The MacEwens have owned Muck since 1896). Aird nan Uain is one of the most beautiful places in the Small Isles; a gentle, flat, grassy headland surrounded by blue sea and uninterrupted views to Horse Island, the cliffs of Eigg, and the mountains of Rum.

Gallanach Bay - Rum in the Distance (2016)

MacEwen Graves  (2016)

The trek to Aird nan Uain is one of my favourite island walks; one I love to take others on. I will never forget the first time I went there, back in 2006, when I was shown the way by a local guide. Her name was Amy, and she was in the habit of adopting day-trippers on their walks around Muck. Sadly, Amy is no longer with us.

Amy leads the way - Horse Island in the distance

Amy of Muck

Back aboard Hjalmar Bjorge, and under sunny skies, we crossed to the Sound of Mull, where a peaceful anchorage was found in the lee of Ardtornish Point. It is a beautiful anchorage: high cliffs to the east, with waterfalls that stream 600 feet down to the sea; to the north solitary Inninbeg House stands at the head of the bay; atop the headland to the west rises the dramatic ruin of Ardtornish Castle, once a stronghold of the Lords of the Isles; and to the south the Sound of Mull.

Ardtornish Castle

Inninbeg House

At Ardtornish the drone was launched for its final flight, and sent off to soar around the castle to capture some brilliant footage of Hjalmar Bjorge floating on the sparkling blue water of the bay.

Drone launch

Drone comes in for a landing

May 29: In the morning we motored across to Oban to tie up to the North Pier. A gigantic breakfast filled everyone to the brim as we said our goodbyes, and then Anna and Mark began prepping Hjalmar Bjorge for her next set of lucky guests.

Many thanks to Mark, Anna, and Chef Mark for a wonderful trip to eleven amazing islands: Mull, Eigg, Harris, Scarp, Lewis, Pabay Mor, Little Bernera, Great Bernera, Flannans, Canna, and Muck. To William, Alan & Jacky, Alan & Kathrin, Janet & Tom, Adam & Margaret, Hazel, Liz, Michael, and William; thanks for being such good company. I hope to see you all again.

Pictured (left to right): William, Adam, Jacky, Alan, Hazel, Liz, Tom, and Janet.
Not pictured: Kathrin, Alan, Michael, and Margaret.

Note: Next year's Hjalmar Bjorge guide-trip will run from June 2-11. The itinerary will shortly appear on the Northern Lights website, and will be posted here July 8.