Return to Eilean Chaluim Chille

While researching the locations of beehive cells on Lewis I came across a reference to a linear layout of three cells on the north side of Eilean Chaluim Chille. I had been to the island, which lies near the mouth of Loch Eireasort (eastern Lewis), a couple of times. Those visits had been made to see the ruins of Eaglais Chaluim Chille, St Columba's Church. (For a description of Eaglais Chaluim Chille see the April 8, 2014 and April 13, 2014 posts, and Book 2, chapter 28).

Eaglais Chaluim Chille

But on those previous visits I'd never been across to the island's northern side, where the beehive cells were said to be. So this August I visited Eilean Chaluim Chille with John Randall to see if we could find the cells. I'd made several walks with John in the past, most recently in July of 2017, when we made a long hike from Loch Claidh to Eisgean (see the August 11, 2017 post).

Our hike around Eilean Chaluim Chille began on a wet August morning by crossing to the island from mainland Lewis, via the tidal causeway near the village of Cromore.

The causeway before low tide

From the causeway we hiked southwest past Eaglais Chaluim Chille, where a monastery was established around the 9th century. (The ruins on the site date to the 12th century). Along the way we passed a modern burial enclosure. In it lies the grave of Charles Menedez Macleod, the first Charlie Barley of Charles Macleod Stornoway Black Pudding fame. 

From the ruins of St Columba's Church we turned north to cut across the centre of the island. The grass, bracken, and heather were thick and wet, which made the going difficult. After a half hour we came to a low cliff that overlooked a small bay.

A hard trudge through the wet heather below the cliff led us to the ruins of the beehives. The searcher for beehive cells encounters many highs, and lows; this was not a high, as the ruins were almost completely collapsed; their circular foundations barely visible in the thick, wet vegetation. But the site itself was spectacular, overlooking the islet-studded mouth of Loch Eireasort.

The three beehive ruins barely visible in the bracken

From the ruins we hiked northeast past Port nam Marbh (the port of the dead), where funeral processions landed to take the bodies to the burial ground near the church. (The graveyard was used into the 19th century.) From there we passed Loch na Muilne (mill-loch) and carried on to Dubh Thob (the dark bay), at the northeast tip of the island. Across the bay rose the rocky summit of Crois Eilean (Cross Island). At low tide this small islet is connected to Eilean Chaluim Chille. Since the tide was still out we made our way to the narrow crossing.  

Cross Island

An easy climb of 75 feet took us to the top of Cross Island. At its summit stood a large cairn; one that, based on the name of the island, may have once been the base of a cross that long ago signified to the sea-traveller that they were nearing the monastery of Eilean Chaluim Chille. 

Cross-base cairn Crois Eilean

Any visit to Eilean Chaluim Chille requires you keep an eye on the tide. But from the top of Crois Eilean we could see the tide was still low; and as it was only a half-mile back to the causeway there was no need to rush. As most of our walk had been, the return to the causeway was across rough, wet terrain. Nearing the causeway we could see that all the island's sheep had decided it was also time to return to the mainland. And so, before the rising sea made Eilean Chaluim Chille an island once again, we followed them back across the causeway. 

John and I had spent a day trekking over a part of Eilean Chaluim Chille that neither of us has been to before; we'd not found any intact beehive cells but, just as fascinating, we'd set foot on new ground, a part of an historic Hebridean island we'd not seen before. Something you don't often get the chance to do.

Rona - Ten Months and Counting

Ten months and counting. That's when I hope to return to Rona on Hjalmar Bjorge. I was fortunate, back in 2011, to have visited the island on Hjalmar Bjorge for two consecutive days of perfect weather (see Chapter 29 of Book 2).

There is only one spot left on our 2019 cruise to Rona (for a male sharing a cabin) - see this Northern Lights page for more information; and for more posts on Rona see this link.

Here is a short video that shows what it's like high atop the wheelhouse of Hjalmar Bjorge on the approach to Rona. Come join us for an experience like this; one, among many, you'll never forget.

A Hebridean Campsite

Last month I made a three-day hike into the interior of Lewis. I was searching for beehive cell dwellings, and found plenty: the most amazing at Loch a' Sguair, Gearraidh Ascleit, and another place further south called Airidh a' Chlair Mhoir. Along with the delight of finding intact cells, another satisfying thing during hikes like this is to find a campsite in a beautiful spot, a place to rest and savour the silence.

It was a wet August afternoon when, after exploring the cells at Gearraidh Ascleit, a village of eight beehives, three of them intact, I set out in search of a place to spend the night. I hoped to make it as far as Gleann Shanndaig, where there are many shieling ruins.

Beehive cell at Ascleit - the hill Roineabhal to the right

Glen Shanndaig lies seven kilometres south of Kinlochroag, five east of Kinlochreasort. To get there from Ascleit requires following a zig-zaggy route of five kilometres. First you have to cut across the south shoulder of Ascleit, then cross a stream that flows from a small, unnamed loch into Loch Lomhainn. From there fifteen minutes of hiking leads up to the interesting settlement of Gearraidh Druim Lomhainn: a linear set of four ruined cells spread out on the Druim Lomhainn ridge. 

Gearraidh Druim Lomhainn

My legs were getting weary at that point, but I was still an hour out from Glean Shanndaig. It’s not a straightforward route, as 230 metre high Sgalabhal Shanndaig stands in the way. The hill’s flanks are guarded by the cliffs of Creag Maralltan and Speireag, which forced me to head south to the saddle between Sgalabhal Shanndaig and Sgalabhal Beag. From the pass it was an easy hike down into Gleann Shanndaig.

The lumpy terrain in the glen was confusing: a maze of streams winding to and fro between grass-grown mounds of sand and gravel. The first ruin I came to was a large, tumbled double beehive at NB 150175. It sat just above a small grassy peninsula, nearly an island, surrounded on three sides by a loop of the Abhainn Gleann Shanndaig. The peninsula looked like the perfect campsite, or so my still weary legs were telling me, and so I dropped the pack on the ground.

The tent was pitched, I filtered some icy-cold water from the stream, and then wandered through the glen, on the lookout for intact beehive cells. But there were none to be found. What I did find were a half-dozen collapsed cells, and several rectangular shielings. I ventured farther south to a much larger stream, the Abhainn Gleann a’ Ghàraidh. There were ruins there, too, but none of them beehives.

It was a quiet evening – just the trickle of the stream breaking the silence. The Perseid meteor shower peaked that night (Aug 12); but if there were any shooting-stars to see they were hidden behind heavy clouds. In the morning I set out, under a light rain, to search for more beehives. I would be successful in that. I would also be successful in finding yet another outstanding campsite on the far shores of Loch Reasort.

A Monastic Retreat in the Hills of Uig

I was about to give up the search. I'd hiked southwest for nearly an hour from the road at Cairisiadar; first along an old peat track, which had petered out after a half-mile, and then up the slopes of Cleite na Crich, one of the outlying foot-hills of Suaineabhal. I had a grid location for what I was seeking, NB 088320. On reaching it I found myself on a level bit of hillside. A stream ran through it, it had an expansive view to Loch Rog, but there were no ruins in sight. 

I searched high and low, crisscrossing the ground within 100 meters of the grid location. Nothing was to be found, but, before heading back, I dug out the 1:25000 map to take one last look. I knew from experience that on this map series most beehive cells are indicated (though not named) by a small square. The location I had was from a list of the beehive cells of Uig I'd come across a few days earlier at the Uig Historical Society, but there was no structure marked on the map at that location.

In scanning the map, on that windswept hillside, I did see what looked like a tiny square drawn 150 meters farther west. So I headed in that direction, and on rounding a small knoll a smile instantly came to my face.

Can you spot it?

Now you can

The list of cells in the Uig museum indicated that this one may have been monastic. Based, I assume, on the fact that it was isolated, far from any other cells, and not near a shieling site.

The cell was in remarkable state, just the final few courses of its dome having collapsed.

Crawling into the cell I came across the stones that had fallen from the dome. And built into the lower course of the wall were several cupboards for storing food.

After crawling back out of the cell I took one last photo showing the remarkable view the cell-dweller had. I hefted the pack back on and walked down into that view. 

Flannan Isles Memorial

During our stay on Lewis we paid a visit to the memorial to the Flannan Island lightkeepers. Built by Seamus Crawford of Uig, it was dedicated on December 15, 2017.

The memorial is in Breasclete, a few hundred metres east of the pier used by the lightkeepers, and an equal distance west of their shore station. The memorial depicts a looming bronze wave sweeping towards a granite boulder topped by a sandstone lighthouse. An event in December of 1900 that killed all three lightkeepers.

I believe the Gaelic wording on the plaque reads something like:

We leave

To the protecting light

To stay the darkness of the night

Pslam 89.9: You rule over the surging sea

When its waves rise you still them

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.

Bo'h Hunting

I will be offline for a few weeks Bo'h hunting on Lewis. My weapon, not a bow, but a camera; my quarry, the Bo'h - shortened form of Bothan - the beautiful Hebridean beehive cells found from Islay to North Rona. Many of these hard to find cells lie scattered in various locations within the vast, and mostly uninhabited, interior of Lewis. So wish me luck in my search for some of the more elusive Bothans.