Cara - Then and Now

When I first started visiting the Hebrides I'd take along old photos of places I wanted to visit and then take a photo of how they currently look. For instance this photo of Inchkenneth house in the 1920s, and how I saw I in 2002.

Another example is this photo of the Macleod Gunnery on Berneray from the 1920s, and how I saw it in 1999.

Of course, all my 'THEN' photos were from other photographers. But in looking through my photos from a recent trip around the Southern Hebrides I realized that, as I've been visiting these isles for 30 years now, I have quite a few of my own 'THEN & NOW' photos; photos of sites I visited long ago, and how they've changed after several decades.

So here are my first two 'Now & Then' set of photos, where I've taken both the 'Now' and the 'Then'. They are from the island of Cara, and the first is of Cella Sanctissimae Trinitas, the Cell of the Holy Trinity; more commonly called the chapel of St Fionnlugh.

Cara Chapel - 2018 (top), 1992 (bottom)

As you can see, someone has been busy rebuilding the wall in the foreground (the south wall). That's probably a good thing, for as you can see in the older photo the whole structure was disintegrating.  

The second Cara "Now & Then" shows Cara House and the north side of the chapel. Over the past 26 years the house has not changed much. When I saw it in '92 they were in the process of cutting out openings in the front wall to add four additional windows. (In the 'THEN' photo`there is still no glass in the windows.)

Cara House - 2018 (top), 1992 (bottom)

In comparing my 'Now & Then' photos one thing really stands out. The vibrancy of the colors in the older photos far surpasses those in the 'Now' photos. Of course the 'Then' photos were taken with a film camera, and the 'Now' photos a digital camera. Even with the color adjustment capabilities of Photoshop I can rarely get as good colors from digital cameras.

I will be posting more of my own 'Now & Thens' as I come across them. I will leave you with another photo of Cara House from 1992; and you can see how it looked in 1966 (before they cut in the new windows) at this link.

Cara House under remodel in 1992

The Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge - Season 3, Episode 5

The Continuing Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge

Season 3 - Episode 5 - Gigha and Cara

Exploring the Isles of the West Cruise    June 2-11, 2018

Tuesday, June 5 - Islands 5 & 6 - Gigha and Cara

Tuesday morning we went ashore on Gigha, where a half-mile stroll took us to Achamore Garden. It dates to 1944, and is well known for its amazing collections of camellias and rhododendrons. In the centre stands Achamore House (1884). It is currently for sale - if I had a spare £800,000 I'd buy it.

It has been 20 years since I’ve seen the gardens. Back then they were in a sorry state, but with the help of volunteers they’ve been restored to their previous splendor. My favourite spot was a viewpoint that looked west over the sea to Islay.

Viewpoint

Debbie at the viewpoint

All visitors to the gardens are greeted by the resident cat.

Liz, Michael (and friend)

We could hear the peacock well before we came upon it courting a prospective mate. Amazing!

Once back aboard Hjalmar Bjorge the anchor was raised and we made the short (3 mile) transit south to the island of Cara. Just up from the beach where we landed stood Cara House, and the chapel of St Fionnlugh - also referred to as Cella Sanctissimae Trinitas - the Cell of the Holy Trinity.

Saint Fionnlugh was a contemporary of Columba, and is said to have saved him 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 busy Islay he'd escape for a little contemplative R&R on Cara.

The Chapel

Hjalmar Bjorge anchored off Cara House

A 20 minute walk from the chapel, along goat trails through tall bracken, took us to the Brownie’s Chair.

When we landed on the island I forgot to doff my hat to the Brownie as required (perhaps because I was not wearing one). But he must not have noticed, as we all made it safely back to the boat.

The Brownie's Chair was the first of two Hebridean wishing stones we'd visit on the trip. The wish I made on Cara did come true (that the weather would be good for the rest of the cruise). However, the wish I'd make in two days, seated on the moated wishing stone of Erraid, did not come true. (That I'd get off the stone without falling into the moat.)

Front row (left to right): Debbie, Clare, Michael, Wolfgang
Second row: Liz, Nigel, Dave, Jane
Top row: Mike, Hazel 
(No Brownie - but he shows up in the next photo)

Tides control everything on a trip like this, and after leaving Cara we caught the flood tide as it poured up the Sound of Jura. With the Paps to our right, and the distilleries of Islay to the left, we made a quick passage through the sound. After passing the lighthouse of Rubha a' Mhail on the northeast corner of Islay we headed west towards island number 7: the holy isle of Nave.

The Brownie's Chair in profile (centre of photo)

Oops! - A Cara Redo

Sometimes you have to climb a bit to get a good photo. And then, sometimes, you have to climb twice. That was the case on Cara, when I scrambled up the hillside to get a photo of the Brownie's Chair. I had found a good high spot for the photo, looked through the viewfinder, and then uttered an expletive (or three). The reason is evident in the photo below.

I had left my pack on the stone, ruining the shot. So I climbed back down to the chair, hid the pack, and then climbed back up. Ever since then I've always set my pack well away from something I want to photograph. Although that has led to a few panic attacks when I was unable (briefly) to find where I'd stashed my pack in tall grass. 

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

When You Wish Upon a ...

There are a few wishing stones scattered around the Hebrides, and a wish I made at one of them actually came true. 

The wish I made while seated on the Brownie's Stone of Cara did not come true. It was a hot day, and after taking a seat on the stone I made a wish. I then dug a can of beer out of my pack, only to find that my wish had not been granted, the beer was warm. Perhaps the Brownie does not of approve of drinking. Although warm, the beer still hit the spot.

Making a wish on the Brownie's Stone - Isle of Cara

On my first visit to Staffa I was so excited to see Fingal's Cave that I walked right past Fingal's Wishing Chair without noticing it. But on my next visit I took the time to sit in the chair and make a wish. That wish did come true, for when I went into Fingal's Cave I had it all to myself.

Fingal's Wishing Chair - Isle of Staffa

I am sure Robert Lewis Stevenson visited the Erraid Wishing Stone in his early days, but whether he stood on it and made a wish to be a writer, as is often said, I do not know. I have to admit that I did not stand on the stone, as that requires jumping over the small moat that surrounds it. Like the ringing stone on Tiree, the Erraid stone looks like a glacial erratic. I do not know if it also rings, but next time I'm on Erraid I'll find out.

Wishing Stone - Isle of Erraid

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.