Uamha Gil Bhialaradail

My wife and I are just back from a visit to the Western Isles. We had 15 days of rain, and one of sun. Even so, we had a great time. I managed to do four day hikes, and a three-day trek in the Morsgail moors to search for beehive cells. All in all I visited 10 settlement sites, finding, in the process, 10 intact beehive cells, and 30 ruinous ones.

I'll be describing these walks over the coming weeks. But to start I'd like to describe my shortest hike, one that was very rewarding: a visit to a fortified underground chamber known as Uamha Gil Bhialaradail. I only learned of it a month ago when I got Michel Robson's posthumously published book Someone Else's Story. Anyone interested in Scottish islands should read this book, which was discovered on Michael Robson's computer after he died in 2017. Here is the description from the book's Amazon page. 

In this book, the historian Michael Robson has in his own words shared with the reader a tiny fraction of the mass of incidental, intriguing interest offered by the people, the landscape and the seas of the Outer Hebrides. He has drawn on a deep personal knowledge and a rich written archive to compile Someone Else's Story. These stories are drawn from communities across the islands from South Uist to Uig in Lewis and as far as distant Rona. All are accompanied by the author's meticulous notes and references resulting in a book which the reader can chose to enjoy simply for the pleasure of a good story, or as a source book for island heritage

Although I could find no mention of Uamha Gil Bhialaradail in the book, there is an intriguing photo of it on the cover. Once I saw the photo I knew this was something that I had to see firsthand.

But where was it? There were no clues in the book, and a search on the CANMORE website of historic sites in Scotland showed nothing. But an internet search did find something: a description of Uamha Gil Bhialaradail on the 1852 Ordnance Survey Book of Names. It described a subterranean chamber, 30 feet long, reinforced with substantial stonework. (You can read the entry here.) As for its location, it said: 140 chains south by east of Forsnabhal.

Fortunately I knew where Forsnabhal was, a hill in Uig (Lewis), and coincidentally only two miles from where my wife and I were staying in Valtos. The next question was: How far is 140 chains? As it turns out, a chain is 22 yards, 140 of them is 9,240 feet: just under three kilomteres. 

So I returned to the CANMORE website and looked in the area three km southeast of Forsnabhal. There was indeed a cave marked on the map, a half km east of the Uig road across from Uig Lodge. CANMORE listed it as Cave - Cnoc an Aoil, and the description matched what I'd read in the OS Book of Names. Although there was no mention of the name Uamha Gil Bhialaradail in the CANMORE listing, a look on the 1854 map at the same location confirmed that this was Uamha Gil Bhialaradail (NB 0649 3309). Now it was time to go find it.

From the Uig road near Uig Lodge, I climbed east up the grassy hillside. After fifteen minutes I came to the bottom of a narrow gully.

At the head of the gully I came to an amazing sight. A dark, narrow, and low orifice, topped by heavy lintel stones.

Flashlight in hand, I slid down into the hole. After a few feet I was able to stand. I really did not need the flashlight as it was not very dark due to several small openings - gaps in the massive boulders that make up the roof.

It was an amazing hidey-hole. A natural chamber below huge boulders that someone shored up with stonework, making it nearly invisible. Near the opening lay several large stones that could be used to block up the entrance, such that anyone walking by would not know there was anything here. The stonework around the entrance, seen from the inside, was most impressive (next two photos).

I crawled back out of the cave, where there was a view down the gully to Uig Bay.

If you are looking for a short walk on Lewis to see something amazing, you'll be hard pressed to find one as good as the short stroll, following in the footsteps of Michael Robson, to Uamha Gil Bhialaradail.

The Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge - Season 3, Episode 9

The Continuing Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge

Season 3 - Episode 9 - Lunga and Iona

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

Saturday, June 9 – Islands 14 & 15 - Lunga and Iona

Saturday saw us get an early start to Lunga - the idea being to beat the day-boats that bring hundreds of tourists to see the puffins. We were ashore by 10am, and had the island all to ourselves for a couple of hours. All visits to Lunga start with an amazing stroll along the cliff tops to see the puffins coming and going from their burrows. 

Just as amazing were the thousands of guillemots roosting at the base of Dun Cruit (Harp Rock).

I must say that the puffin population on Lunga seems to be a shadow of its former self. I have been there eight times over the last 30 years, ranging from early May to mid August, and the number of puffins I saw on June 9 was about 10% of the number I’d seen in the past. The next three photos are from a visit in 2008.

Aside from seeing the bright puffins and noisy guillemots on Harp Rock, there is a secret place on Lunga I always like to visit. Most visitors are not interested in seeing it, as it's dark, dank and cold. It is a tunnel-cave described by Fraser Darling in his book Island Years (1940), and by L.R.Higgins in his classic A Tangle of Islands (1971). The cave is 200 feet long, its entrance lies hidden at the bottom of a pit in the south plateau of Lunga, and its far end opens out onto the western cliffs of the island. Liz was interested in seeing it, and so the two of us left the puffins to go spelunking. 

From the rim of the pit we slid down its steep bank into a sea of ferns. The cave mouth is hidden below the dark spot in the centre of next photo.

Into the pit

After wading through the ferns we came to the small mouth. It was now time to crawl for about ten feet across wet stones, then waddle for another 20 feet to a point where we could stand up.

After going 200 feet we reached the seaward end of the cave, where a short scramble up some boulders took us out onto the face of the western cliffs.

After retracing our steps through the cave, and climbing back up the wall of the pit, we returned to puffin city. As we did we noticed a boat full of people motoring towards the shore. The timing of our visit to Lunga had been perfect; what we were seeing was the first of the day-boats. They started landing folks just as we were making our way down to the shore, and I felt like a salmon swimming upstream as I passed about 50 day-trippers slowly making their way - some in flip flops - up the rocky beach.

Leaving Lunga behind, we sailed east to take a look (from the sea) into Fingal’s Cave on Staffa. About halfway there we came upon a basking shark zig-zagging through the water.

The interior of Fingal's Cave is currently closed to visitors because the walkway into it has collapsed (see this article). So this was one of few times I'd seen the cave from the sea when it was not full of tourists.

From Staffa it was a short motor over to Iona, where the anchor was dropped in Port nam Mairtear, Martyrs' Bay, where 68 monk's were killed in the year 806. It is easy to know that it's Martyrs' Bay because of the well signed Martyrs' Bay Restaurant and Pub which sits above the bay.

Once ashore a visit to the nunnery was followed by a climb to the top of the island, the hill of Dun-I. (Pronounced Dune - ē, not, as some tourists call it, Done One.) Iona was as crowded as usual, and it seemed strange being among so many people after a week of deserted islands.

On the way to the hill we passed the abbey. In days of yore it was free to go inside, these days it'll cost you £7.50. 

In days of not-so-yore (like 4 years ago), it was easy to get in the grounds through an unlocked side gate to take a close look at St Martin's Cross and climb onto Tor Ab, where it is thought Columba had his cell. I was disheartened to see that even this side gate is now securely locked.

St Martin's Cross

A half-mile north of the abbey we reached the path that climbs to the top of Dun-I. Even though it is only about 300 feet high, it is well worth climbing for the views. But this time of year you will not find solitude here, as people are continually coming and going.

The busy summit of Dun-I

There being so many people on the top of the hill was posing a problem, as I’d been planning for several months to do something up here that required a bit of privacy. Nestled in my pack was some precious cargo, a small container I’d carried throughout our trip. It had been on 15 islands so far, but Iona would be the last one. 

The problem was solved when, from the summit, I noticed a little knoll that no one was on. As I watched for several minutes I could see that none of the tourists seemed to be going over there. And so I made my way to this little knoll west of the summit. It was the perfect spot for what I wanted to do; a spot that looked out over the abbey to the east, and the sea to the west. I crouched down, slowly opened the container, and gently sprinkled its contents over the grass. My mother had passed five months ago. She loved Iona, and now is forever part of it.

After our climb everyone spread out to wander on their own. Some visited the abbey, others the shops. A few made the hike over to the west side of the island to the beach of Camus Cùil an T-Saimh.

As I have found out the hard way, translating Gaelic place names is a mine-field for the amateur. The name of the bay on the current OS map is Camus Cùil an T-Saimh, which may mean 'bay of the ocean-nook.' Other maps name it Camus Cul an Taibh, possibly 'bay with its back to the sea.' Regardless of what its name means, it is a beautiful spot, a half-mile of white sands nestled between the Spouting Cave and the 2000 year-old fort of Dun Bhuirg.

After a visit to the Martyr's Bay Pub to hydrate we headed back to Hjalmar Bjorge. The anchor was raised, and we left the crowds behind to motor south past Erraid into Ardlanish Bay off the Ross of Mull. As the sun set that evening it began to sink in just how fast the week had passed, and that in two days we'd be back in Oban. We'd set foot on 15 islands, and there was still one to go. For in the morning, with eagles soaring high overhead, we'd motor below some of the most impressive cliffs in the Hebrides, see a 15th century castle, and trek to a 5000 year-old stone circle.

Breacan's Cave

The best island hikes are ones with historic destinations. One of my favorites was around the north of Jura, past a viewpoint of the Corryvreckan whirlpool, and on a wee bit farther to Uamh Bhreacain, Breacan's Cave.

Breacan's Cave

There are several other 'Breacan' place names at the north of Jura. A hill that rises above the cave is Aird Bhreacain (the heights of Breacan), and just offshore swirls the whirlpool of Coire Bhreacain. One of the Gaelic meanings of 'breac' is speckled. So it's possible the place names come from the speckled waters of the whirlpool. A traditional derivation is from Prince Brekan, who is said to have drowned when his fleet was caught in the whirlpool, and was buried in the cave. In its day it was a well defended cave, and remnants of a protective wall still stand.

The cave is 100 feet deep, and it was written in 1700 that there was a tomb and altar in the cave. It was also reported, in the 1800s, that a stone coffin was dug out of the cave, but all it contained was dust. On my first visit to the cave I was hoping to see what was left of the tomb. Once walking 50 feet past the outer wall I came to a giant slab lying on the ground.

The slab looked like it could have covered a grave, or been part of an altar. But a search of the cave floor showed no sign of a dug-out tomb. What was evident is that the cave is a regular shelter for the feral goats that roam the island, as the cave's floor was covered with a thick carpet of goat-pooh.

It was dark and dreary, so I didn't linger long in the pooh-covered cave. Once back outside I made a bad decision to take a shortcut across the island to make a more direct return to the car, which was parked at road's end on the other side of the island. That shortcut crosses the notch in the ridge you can see in the next photo taken from near the mouth of the cave.

It was a bad decision because it was stalking season, and I'd not inquired about any hunting activity. But I was lucky, and made it across without interfering with anyone. If you ever hike in deer country in season, always ask around to see if a hunt is on. If you ask, you may be surprised what you're told. The last time I asked about access, when I wanted to cross the Morsgail estate on Lewis, the keeper was happy to hear from me. He told me no worries, all his clients were fishing, not deer stalking. He also gave some tips on the area, and let me know there were people staying at a remote bothy that would welcome a visitor (see the Ardveg Walk post). So good things can come to those who ask.

Looking back to the headland of Breacan's Cave (on left) from the shortcut across the island

Although my walk in 1999 was inspired by wanting to see the cave, it led to an even better thing: discovering the beautiful, remote bay nearby. And so, six years later, I returned to camp there for a few days. Island hikes often lead to discovering something new, something that makes you want to return again and again. So take a hike on Jura, Islay, or any island. I'm sure you'll come across something surprising, something wonderful. Something that will bring you back, again and again.

Campsite near Breacan's Cave

Gleann Mor of St Kilda

It takes a lot of time and effort to visit the most remote and, to me, the most interesting, part of St Kilda: Gleann Mor.  A visit to the glen can take four to five hours, which allows for spending a couple of hours in the glen to visit all its amazing ruins and make the descent to Tunnel Cave. Day trips to Kilda just barely allow time to make this long trek, so the best way to see Gleann Mor without having to hurry is to visit the island on a cruise that allows at least a full day ashore.

The typical route to the glen first involves climbing 800 feet to the saddle below Mullach Sgar. From there you can descend directly into the glen. But since you've gone to the effort of climbing so high, before descending into Gleann Mor I'd suggest strolling to the northwest along the ridge to Mullach Bi and pay a visit to the Lover's Stone.

Gleann Mor seen from near Mullach Bi

Descending into Gleann Mor

Like many areas on Kilda, Gleann Mor is bonxie country. So as you walk down the glen be prepared for a surprise attack from behind.

Bonxie on the attack

Along the way down you will also come across pieces of the Sunderland flying-boat that crashed here the day after D-Day in 1944.

Flying-boat remains in Gleann Mor

The ancient ruins in Gleann Mor are astounding. Over a dozen sets of beehive cells, some linked together with odd, horn-shaped forecourts. No one knows for certain how old these things are, but some may date back as far as the 4th century. The most complex cluster is what's known as the Amazon's House (see this CANMORE page for more). 

Clusters of ruins in Gleann Mor

Horned structure

Soay sheep mowing the lawn of Glenn Mor

No visit to Gleann Mor is complete without making the descent to Tunnel Cave. At the tip of the cliff on the east shore of the bay you will find a natural ledge that leads down to the sea, and the entrance to the cave. (You can see the sloping ledge in the next photo.) The last bit of the descent can be slippy, so be careful. Once in the cave you can walk to its far end where there is a great view over to Boreray.

The sloping ledge down to Tunnel Cave

Boreray seen from the tunnel

From the tunnel you have your work cut out for you to return to Village Bay. The saddle below Mullach Sgar is a mile to the south (and 800 feet up). Alternately you can climb directly SE up the ridge to Mullach Mor, and then on to the top of Conachair. That route is only three-quarters of a mile as the gannet flies, but has 1234 feet of elevation gain. Either way can be tough going through thick grass and attacking bonxies. The climb up Conachair is one you'll remember for a long time; especially the view from the top down to Village Bay on one side, and Boreray on the other.

If you do make the effort to walk to Gleann Mor, chances are you'll have it mostly to yourself. My last visit there was in 2015. Five day-boats and three cruise ships were in village bay. A hundred visitors were ashore, but when I was in Gleann Mor I only saw one other person.