Sgurr Views

One of my favorite vantage points in the Hebrides is the top of An Sgurr on the island of Eigg—an iconic landmark for all who sail through these waters. Whether you are on a boat, or a nearby island, it is quite satisfying to know you've stood atop that dramatic peak when you see it from a distance.

I have climbed An Sgurr a few times over the years; the most memorable during an ice-storm in 2006. The next photo shows what the Sgurr looked like before I climbed it that time. Not very inviting—but I went up anyway.

I am so glad I decided to carry on to the top. Although the weather was awful, it cleared up every now and then, offering amazing views over the highlands of Eigg and the surrounding isles. In no particular order here is a selection of views I've seen over the years from the slopes, and the summit, of the Sgurr of Eigg.

The final shot is my favorite. It shows the mountains of Mordor (Rum) in the distance. Tolkien is said to have based Mordor on a view like this seen from the house of Howlin, three miles north of the Sgurr. If you ever have the chance visit Eigg, be sure to make the climb to the top of the Sgurr. 

PS: I will be off line for a few weeks, wandering somewhere in the hills of Morsgail, Uig, and Harris.

Wellies - Reborn

In the last post I had a photo of a unique set of planters I came across on Great Bernera.

This whimsical re-use of old wellies reminded me of another amusing, and very imaginative, recycling of boots I came across during a visit to Eigg in 2016. It was the 'Welly Bridge' that leads to the Singing Sands, and I was looking forward to showing it to the guests on my guide-trip last May (2017).

Singing Sands Welly Bridge in 2016

But when we reached the Singing Sands I was disappointed to find that the wellies had been removed. However, once over the bridge that disappointment was soon forgotten as we scuffed our boots across the sands to make them sing. Here is how Hugh Miller described his visit to the sands in 1844:

I walked over it, striking it obliquely at each step, and with every blow the shrill note was repeated. My companions joined me; and we performed a concert, in which, if we could boast of but little variety in the tones produced, we might at least challenge all Europe for an instrument of the kind which produced them.

I hope the wellies return someday to adorn the entrance to the sands. They made what was a utilitarian stile a memorable gateway to this iconic Hebridean beach.

Destination Eigg

On May 20th, under clear skies, the good ship Hjalmar Bjorge left the busy port of Oban to head up the Sound of Mull. Aboard were twelve guests looking forward to a ten day cruise around the Hebrides: Alan & Jacky, Janet & Tom, Adam & Margaret, Alan & Katherine, Hazel, Liz, Michael, and William. The crew consisted of Skipper Mark, Anna, Cook Mark, and Guide Marc (a lot of Marks). This was my second guide-trip, and I was looking forward to sharing some of my favorite island walks.

Hjalmar Bjorge and sister ship Elizabeth G at Oban

We did not know it at the time, but over the coming days we’d visit eleven islands. Thirty miles out of Oban we tied up to the pontoon dock in Tobermory, where several guests enjoyed a stroll in town before settling in for the first night. My stroll was with Michael, and we went as far as the old ferry terminal at the west end of Tobermory. There I saw something I'd not seen before, a dredger unloading its vast haul of scallops. We saw several giant bags of scallops being lifted by crane off the rusting boat and into a waiting truck. The damage these dredgers do to the seabed is terrible.

Tobermory

In the morning the forecast confirmed what was suspected the day before, conditions would not allow us to head over to Mingulay as planned. So we decided to head north towards the Small Isles with hopes that conditions would improve later in the week to allow us to get out west. It's always exciting to pass Ardnamurchan point, the westernmost part of mainland UK. Our destination was Eigg, and as Mull receded behind us the Small Isles came into view; Rum off to the left, and Eigg to the right; reminding me of that line from the Skye Boat Song:

Mull was astern, Rum on the port, Eigg on the starboard bow.

In the past, all my visits to Eigg involved landing at Glamisdale on the southeast corner of the island. But this time was different. We made an exciting beach landing in Laig Bay on the west side.

Laig Bay (on a sunnier day)

Once life-vests were stowed above the beach in a waterproof bag we paid a visit to the beautiful St Donnan’s Church. St Donnan was the island’s saint who was martyred in the 5th century. I did notice something significant had changed since my last visit. Another of Scotland's 'buildings at risk' no longer existed, as there was no sign of the large rectory that once stood next to the church. When I saw it ten years ago some of the upper floors had pancaked down, and it was filled with nesting birds.

St Donnan's - rectory gone

Rectory to the left of St Donnan's in 2006

Inside St Donnan's

The church looked the same on the inside as before, with the exception that the ancient carved stones that used to be on the porch of Eigg Lodge are now on display in the church. That's a good thing, as they are no longer exposed to the elements. The bad thing is that the gem of the collection, the dual-carved cross-shrine slab, is mounted such that it is hard to see its older side. The newer side, with the beautiful Celtic cross, faces the interior of the church. While the noble, and much older, hunting scene is only a foot away from the wall, making it nearly impossible to see the carving. For a description of the cross-shrine see the April 15, 2015 post.

Cross-shrine now in St Donnan's - St Donnan pictured at upper left

The two sides of the cross-shrine (photographed when it was at Eigg Lodge)

From St Donnan's we followed the shore path north to Camus Sgiotaig: the scattering (or squeaking) bay, better known as the Singing Sands. Apparently the sands can disappear in the winter, hence the scattering name, but they never fail to return. A well trod foot track led to the head of the bay, where a large stile made it easy to cross the fence that divides the sandy grazing grounds from the shore. Once on the sand we slid our feet across the sand. It took some effort, and you had to scuff your boots at just the right angle, but when you did the sound was immediate, a squeaky (almost musical) squeal. The geologist Hugh Miller described the sands in The Cruise of the Betsey. He had not heard of them before, so his description (in 1844) is one of discovery.

I walked over it, striking it obliquely at each step, and with every blow the shrill note was repeat-ed. My companions joined me; and we performed a concert, in which, if we could boast of but little variety in the tones produced, we might at least challenge all Europe for an instrument of the kind which produced them.

Making music on the Singing Sands

The Singing Sands on a sunnier day

Once our legs tired of making music (of a sort) we hiked up the hill pass Bealach Thuilm to enjoy a windy view north to a fog covered Skye.

The view from Bealach Thuilm

On our way back to the shore we passed the house known as Howlin, which has a fantastic view of the jagged mountains of Rum. J.R. Tolkien stayed in the house for a while, and it’s said the dramatic skyline of Rum (which you can see in Singing Sands photo) was inspiration for the Mountains of Mordor.

Howlin

An easy road walk took us back to Laig Bay, where we donned our lifejackets. Soon Mark and Anna motored in on the inflatable to take us back to Hjalmar Bjorge. It was getting late in the day as the engines were fired up, and we set off on a northwesterly course. An hour's cruising took us to the shelter of Rum’s Loch Scresort, where the anchor was dropped and we settled in for a delicious Sunday Roast, followed by nightfall over Rum.

Loch Scresort - Rum

The forecast the next morning indicated things were improving. So we motored out of Loch Scresort to head for the Sound of Harris: the gateway to the outer isles.

To be continued...

All Four of the Smalls

On May 27th, after a few hours ashore on the Shiants, we headed south down the west coast of Skye. This is always a scenic run; the cliffs of the Skye headlands to the left, and the low coast of the Uists to the right. The Neist Point lighthouse marks the westernmost point of Skye. And just north of the light is an unusual pyramid shaped headland; one of the landmarks of the Skye coast. I have passed by many times in the past, and have never seen anyone climbing it. But this time we saw what appeared to be a rescue in progress.

Neist Point

Neist Point peak

Rescue?

Another three hours of steaming took us to our next overnight anchorage in Canna Harbour. The following morning we went ashore to see the Rocket church, the grounds of Canna House, and to see the Celtic cross that is all that's left of the monastery of Keils. Although there was a sign in front of Canna House saying there were tours of the house, the resident warden told us there were no tours. Very frustrating. (Dear NTS, why do you put up signs describing tours that are non-existent?) We'd find an even more flagrant example of such disregard for visitors when we'd arrive on Rum the next day (see below).

Canna

Canna House

Canna Harbour

My primary goal on Canna was to lead some of the guests to Sgorr nam Ban-naomha, a 7th century monastic enclosure (sometimes called a nunnery), that lies at the base of 300-foot-high cliffs on the west side of the island. It is a seven-mile round-trip hike, and so I only had two takers, Nigel and Clare. The three of us set out to follow the track to Tarbert Farm, from where a mile of cross country hiking took us to the cliffs high above Sgorr nam Ban-naomha.

Cliffs above the Sgorr

I have only been down to the Sgorr once, that was way back in 2002, and was looking forward to seeing it again. But it was not to be. The steep sheep track that give access down the cliffs had been severely eroded by rabbits, and look unsafe, so we had to settle for the view from above.

The eroded path down to the Sgorr

The Sgorr

On the way back to the harbour we made a detour to crawl into the souterrians that lie in the lonely interior of the island. (See this CANMORE page for more on the souterrains of Canna.)

The souterrains

Clare explores the souterrian

Once back aboard Hjalmar Bjorge we decided to head over to Rum for the night, and under brilliant sunshine we motored around the north side of Rum to find an anchorage in Loch Scresort. At the head of the loch we could see the red sandstone Kinloch Castle, built by the Bulloughs in 1902.

The ferry Loch Nevis arriving at Rum

Kinloch Castle

We went ashore on Rum the next morning. At the pier there was an info-board listing castle tours. I wanted the guests to see inside the castle, and even though it was a Sunday, there was a tour listed for 9:30. And so we all headed over to the castle. 9:30 came, and went, as did 10:00. We asked the few folks we could find about the tour, but no one knew anything. (We got the definite feeling they just didn't care.) I wandered over to the shop/pub to find it open, but vacant, its outdoor tables littered with empty beer and wine bottles. It looked like we'd missed quite a party. 

Kinloch Castle

We missed the party

I won't dwell (much longer) on the complete disregard whoever runs Rum has for visitors. But if you are not going to offer tours, why in the world do you put up signs saying you do. And I know for a fact that our experience that day was not just a one time mixup - it happens all the time. If you ever go to Rum, don't plan on seeing the castle, get as far away from it as you can and spend your time in the hills.

The sun was shining bright as we left Rum and made the journey over to Eigg. Rounding the north end we motored down its east coast below the high cliffs of Striudh. It was at Striudh that Hugh Miller met a lass "who was more than merely good looking" (see book 1, chapter 26).

Striudh - Eigg cliffs

We were soon ashore on Eigg, where we arranged for a taxi to take us the five miles across the island to the Singing Sands. It was the only taxi on the Small Isles, an old London cab, that had somehow made its way to Eigg via Dundee.

Eigg taxi

We had a bumpy, but fun, ride up Eigg's M-1 to road's end at Howlin, where a short walk took us to Camus Sgiotaig, the Squeaking Bay (usually known as the Singing Sands).

To the Singing Sands

The Singing Sands - the mountains of Mordor in the distance

East of the Singing Sands, and just under the high cliffs of Cleadale, we could see the house at Howlin. It's said the JR Tolkien stayed here, and that the view he had of Rum from the house was the inspiration for the Mountains of Mordor.

Howlin House (at left)

Could this be Mordor?

After an hour or so making the sands sing and wading in the sea we headed back to the road-end to find our chauffeur patiently waiting to take us to Glamisdale. (Listen to the April 19, 2013 post for a recording of the singing sands.)

Our taxi awaits

Back in Glamisdale we still had an hour, and so Nigel and I set out to see Massacre Cave. There was a sign in the shop that said due to a rock-fall you could not get into the cave, but we decided to take a look for ourselves. It is an easy half-mile walk to the cave, and when we reached it there was no sign of a rockfall, and with flashlights in hand we crawled in. In the late 1500s several hundred people perished here - see chapter 24 of book 2 for the story.

Nigel at Massacre Cave

In the cave

Thirsty, and ready for a beer, Nigel and I returned to Glamisdale only to find that the pub had just closed. The rest of our group had been more fortunate, making their way to the pub in time to get a drink. And so we spent a leisurely (and beer-less) half hour sitting in the sun until it was time to depart. Our next destination, and the last island of the trip, would be nearby Muck.

Glamisdale Harbour - Eigg

We dropped anchor at Muck around 7pm. And after another excellent dinner prepared by Lynda we settled down for the night. The next day dawned without a cloud in the sky, and we went ashore for a few hours. As we stepped ashore we set a record for a Hjalmar Bjorge cruise, as we'd visited all four of the Small Isles. I led the guests across the island to beautiful Gallanach Bay, and then several of us continued on to the MacEwen graves on Aird nan Uan, the headland of the lambs, on the far west tip of the island. (The MacEwens own Muck.)

Gallanach - Mordor in the distance

MacEwen Graves

Then in the mood for a climb, Nigel and I decided to make our way up Beinn Airein, at 450 feet, the highpoint of Muck. At the base of the hill, just before we started to climb, we came across an amazing stone cottage. Its turf roof was intact and the house still appeared to be used. It is a listed building that was restored in the 1960s (you can read more about it on this CANMORE page).

Someone's home sweet home

Nigel atop Beinn Airein

Looking to Eigg from the top of Muck

Unlike our experience on Eigg the day before, when we returned to the harbour the tearoom/pub was open, and so we were able to quench our thirst before returning to the boat.

Muck Tea Room/Pub/Shop

While talking to the folks who run the tearoom I was sad to learn that Amy had passed away. Amy was a little dog that had followed me all around the island on my two previous visits (see the October 13, 2013 post for more on Amy). But I was happy to learn that Amy's daughter, Mattie, still greeted visitors, as I found out when I stepped out of the tearoom.

Mattie of Muck

Amy of Muck - RIP

We said goodbye to our last island and set a course east to the Sound of Mull, where we motored into Lochaline harbour for a short visit ashore. Lochaline is where many of the St Kildans were sent, some to do forestry work, when they left their far off (and treeless) island in 1930. Most of the guests went for a long walk up the lochside road. But I decided to get a beer at the Lochaline Hotel, and then take a look at the houses where the Kildans had lived.

Lochaline Marina

Lochaline Houses - near where the Kildans lived

We spent the last night of the cruise at anchor in nearby Ardtornish Bay. The house at the head of the bay is the sometimes residence of Adam Nicolson, the author of the best book about the Shiants (Sea Room).

Ardtornish House

In the morning we had a short sail to Oban where we had a gigantic breakfast that would keep everyone going for a day or two and, in short order, everyone went their own way. It had been an interesting trip, one that visited quite a few islands not normally seen on these cruises. I would like to thank Nigel and Clare, Janet and John, Joey, Patricia, Francis, and Elaine for being such good company. I hope you all had a good time. And many thanks to Mark, Anna, and Lynda, for making my first trip as a guide go smoothly. We will be doing another trip next year, from May 20th to 29th. Check the Northern Lights website (and this blog) in the next few weeks for details.

Hjalmar Bjorge at Oban