John MacDonald of the Ardveg (1933 - 2016)

I just learned of the death of John MacDonald on Christmas Day 2016. I only met John once. It was at the Uig Community Centre on June 29, 2013 for the launch of his book An Trusadh - Memories of Crofting in the Ardveg.

Regular readers will know that the Ardveg is one of my favourite places in the isles. It is so remote, that staying there is akin to a retreat on an island in the sea. I've been privileged to have visited Ardveg on three occasions. On two of those I camped next to the old blackhouses, one of which John lived in before his father built a new house nearby in 1934.

A.A.MacGregor's photo of Ardveg in the early 1930s

Ardveg in 2001

An Ardveg campsite

I can't think of a better island experience that reading John's book An Trusadh (which means the gathering), and then making the long hike in to see Ardveg first-hand. We are fortunate John left a fascinating record of what life was like growing up in Ardveg before he passed.

My condolences to John's family. He was a remarkable man who will be missed. See this Northern Times page for an excellent article about his life, and this link which will take you to posts on Ardveg written over the past four years.

Photo of John MacDonald at Ardveg from the back cover of An Trusadh

A Long and Winding Road Walk - Lewis

Last August I made a three day hike on Lewis, a walk that started at Morsgail (see the Ardveg Walk tab). I left the area by hiking out from Ardveg up the Hamanavay track to the public road at Uig. The plan was I'd call my wife to come pick me up when I reached the road, and she would drive over to get me from the self catering house we were staying at in Valtos, six miles from where the Hamanavay track meets the road. (See Valtos Cottage Self Catering).

The cottage has an amazing view to the north over Loch Roag and the island of Pabay Mor.

But I made a serious mistake. I had not checked if there was mobile phone coverage in Uig. And when I reached the road above the white sands of Uig Beach, around 8pm, I powered up the phone only to find there was no signal. I'd told my wife if she did not hear from me I'd decided to spend another night under the stars. But I was out of food, and sore from 20 miles of bog-hopping and the long climb up the Hamanavay track. And so a soak in a tub and a beer sounded better than another night in the tent. There was nothing to do but start walking the road to Valtos, thinking that at some point either the phone would get a signal, or I could hitch a ride. 

After 10 minutes of walking I passed the Abhainn Dearg distillery. Unfortunately it was closed, so I'd find no refreshment there. I continued on, checking my phone every now and then only to find there was still no signal. A mile later I passed the turn-off to Ardroil Beach. It would have been a great place to camp, and in hindsight I should have done that, but the thought of a bath and beer kept me going. Only two cars had passed by so far; the drivers must have been tourists - they didn't stop when I stuck my thumb out.

After another half hour it was getting dark. Having covered some 20 miles so far that day my legs were giving out. So when I reached the road that comes up from Loch Stacavat I turned right and followed it a ways until I saw a field that looked like a good spot to camp. The field was gated. I could not open the gate, so I climbed it and found a spot to pitch the tent out on the moorland.

I was dead-tired, asleep in no time. Up at 6am I started walking again. An hour's walk took me to the Uig shop. I was hoping to use their land-line phone, but they were closed. More walking led past the Uig Community Centre and into the entrance of Glen Valtos; the largest glacial meltwater channel in the Outer Hebrides.

I still had three miles to go to reach the cottage in Valtos village where my wife was comfortably sleeping. There was still no phone signal, and as it was early, there had been no cars on the road yet. What I didn't know at the time was that a possible environmental disaster was happening that very moment; an oil rig had broke its tow-rope and had just grounded on Dalmore Beach. And so someone was out on the road early, driving up to Dalmore to help out. I saw them approach from behind, stuck out my thumb, and they gave me a ride to the Valtos turnoff. (Thanks Ian!)

Afoot again, at the Valtos turnoff, a look at the phone showed still no service. There was nothing to do but keep walking. Forty-five minutes later, a hundred yards from home, the phone finally got a signal. I called my wife to tell her I was almost there, and she met me on the road with a cold carton of Ribena. A drink never tasted so good. Lesson learned: don't ever count on getting a phone signal while hiking in the islands, even in areas that are populated.

Bearasaigh - The Pirate's Isle

There is a little island in the outer reaches of Loch Roag I've always wanted to visit. The island is Bearasaigh, which had a brief moment of fame in the 1600s.

For a few years in the early seventeenth century, Neil MacLeod and forty of his followers had a stronghold on Bearasaigh. From this small isle they launched raids against the “Gentlemen Adventurers” sent to Lewis by James VI to “civilize” the Outer Hebrides. Bearasaigh was a good choice for a stronghold. It is cliff-girt, with just one, easily defend-able, sloping rock slab that allows access to the top of the island. They eventually caught Neil by stranding family members in a boat tied to a tidal rock near the island. Neil and his band surrendered in order to save them. Neil managed to escape after that, but was recaptured and ended up swinging from an Edinburgh scaffold in 1613.

In chapter 16 of his book Behold the Hebrides, Alasdair Alpin Macgregor recounts the story of Neil Macleod, which you can read at this link.

Bearasaigh

I've always wanted to get ashore on Bearasaigh to see if there are any remains of Neil's encampment on the island. But to do so would require an expensive day-charter of a RIB on a very calm day, and so I've put it off for many years. But I was able to get a close up view of the rock slab that gives access to Bearasaigh during a tour around the islands of Loch Roag last August. It was a miserable, cold, and wet day, as you can tell from the rain-smears on the following photo of the landing spot. It was evident that a scramble to the top of the island on those rocks would be exciting.

A wet-lens view of the way up Bearasaigh

On the same boat trip we took a look at the oil rig grounded at Dalmore, six miles away. If the wind and tide had been different Bearasaigh might of been in the headlines after a 400 year absence.

The Lord of the Isles Ancient Internet

I've been reading Kevin Byrne's wonderful book on Colonsay - Lonely Colonsay (House of Lochar, 2010). In it I've learned that, 1000 years ago, the Lords of the Isles had their own Instant Messaging service, their own Twitter, their own wireless communication. At the speed of light they could send a warning from near their great Hall of Dun Eibhinn on Colonsay, to an outpost 15 miles away on Islay, near their capital at Finlaggan.

If you look at the 1:25000 OS map of Colonsay, you'll find a hill called Cnoc an-t-Samhlaidh at NR 3832 9264, a mile south of Dun Eibhinn. And on the map of Islay, at NR 3335 6961, you'll find another Cnoc an-t-Samhlaidh, three miles northwest of Finlaggan.

Cnoc an-t-Samhlaidh means the hill of reflection. Using some type of mirror, signals could be sent at night between the summits. Next time I'm on Colonsay or Islay I hope to climb one of these hills of reflection. I'd camp on the summit at night, kindle a fire, send a signal, and see if anyone replies.

Guided Cruise - Only One Spot Left

There is only one spot remaining for my 10-day guided cruise on Hjalmar Bjorge from May 20 to the 29th. (For a male sharing a double cabin). Departing from Oban, we'll be traversing the Outer Hebrides from Mingulay to the Flannans. For more information see the 2017 Cruise tab, or the Northern Light Cruising Company website.

Hjalmar Bjorge at Kerrera

A' Clach Thogalaich - The Colonsay Lifting Stone

Here's a photo I took 24 year ago on Colonsay. It shows A' Clach Thogalaich, the stone of lifting, which lies near the road at the north end of the golf course (at least it did in 1993). The boulder weighed in at around 250 pounds. I was not in the mood to rupture anything, so I didn't try to lift it. 

See this Old Man of the Stones page for some interesting descriptions of attempts, some successful, to lift the Colonsay stone. If you're in the mood to test your strength, and can't make it out to Colonsay, there are also some lifting stones on North Uist described in the same link.

Cille Chrìosd - Baile-na-Cille

The photo is of the burial ground of St Christopher’s at Baile-na-Cille on Lewis. The dedication to St Christopher is odd for a Hebridean island, so it's more than likely that the Christopher dedication is a corruption of the Gaelic name Cille Chriosd (Christ's Church). This old burial ground was once the site of a chapel, and the centre of an area of sanctuary.

Cille Chriosd - Suainabhal and Uig Lodge in the distance

The photo was taken from the hillside north of the burial ground and near the site of a blackhouse that, local tradition says, was the birthplace of Coinneach Odhar (the Brahan Seer). There are three interesting stories about Cille Chriosd that I've come across over the years.

The first one is told in Bill Lawson's Lewis: The West Coast in History and Legend. The Brahan Seer's mother was spinning wool late one evening near Cille Chriosd when she saw several graves open up, and spitits rise from them and fly away. Later she saw all but one of them return to their graves. To block the last ghost from returning she laid her distaff across the grave. The ghost turned out to be the daughter of the king of Norway, and she pleaded with the Seer's mother to remove the staff. In return for removing it the ghost told her where she could find a stone of vision. The Seer's mother told her son where to find the stone, and Coinneach went on to make many prophecies.

The second story is from Donald MacDonald's Tales and Traditions of the Lewis, and associates the burial ground with the builders of stone circles.

The conical mound wherein are buried the bodies of many Uig people holds a mysterious and sacred association still for those who come near it. For at least a thousand years they have gazed with reverential awe at this site, and before that there was a pagan temple. There is a legend that the mound was first built up by one called Elidhean, who carried the soil (with panniers) on two white horses, from a hill in the vicinity which still bears his name, “Cnoc Elidhean”. Some people say that the builders were the same Mediterranean incomers who built another conical mound like it on Silbury Hill in Wiltshire, and set up the standing stones which rouse in us feelings of awe and wonder.

The third tale is one of revenge carried out on the threshold of the sanctuary of Cille Chriosd. It is told in W C Mackenzie’s book The Western Isles, in a chapter called The Adventures of John Roy Macaulay. It recounts how the sons of MacLeod of Pabbay Mor murdered the family of John Roy Macaulay, following a dispute over the ownership of a cow. Thirteen-year-old John Roy was away at the time, living with his foster-father. MacLeod of Lewis, not happy with the Pabbay MacLeods, ordered that they take John Roy into their custody with a promise to keep him safe.

But his period of safekeeping was not to last long. On a snowy day the MacLeods took him on a hunting trip, and at Tota Choinnich, an old shelter south of Kinlochresort, they tied him to rocks in the snow and left him to the elements.

Ruin of Tota Choinnich

John Roy’s foster-father had a premonition something was wrong and was able to rescue him. Several years later John Roy had his revenge, when he pursued the eldest son of MacLeod of Pabay to the shores of Uig Bay, killing him just before he could reach the sanctuary of Cille Chriosd.

I have spent many nights just a stones throw from the burial ground of Cille Chriosd, for right next to it is the Balnacille Guest House, one of the best in the islands. Fortunately I never saw any spirits rising from the graves, but I did see several amazing sunsets. For more on Cille Chrìosd take a look at this Uig Historical Society page.

Cille Chriosd and Bailenacille Guest House