Better days: knees in the sand

My eye was caught by this old boat which was lying at the high water mark in Scarinish Harbour Tiree. She was lying as she was when she was driven here by a winter storm but her function can still easily be discerned from her near complete form.


In contrast, little remains of this sad relic of former days the Mary Stewart. Only the stumps of her timber knees project from the sand, hinting at the once proud lines, which carried the essential trade of Tiree.


I wonder if she was this masted sailing ship, photographed by Erskine Beveridge in Scarinish harbour in 1898? Note the hotel building in the background, which has since been considerably extended. Old photographs like these make us realise that our lives are very transitory things compared with places and the environment. All the more reason not to leave a mess!

Better days is also a metaphor for my own current situation. It was the 13th of the month. I dislocated my knee on the sands of Gunna at the south end of Coll. It gave way when I turned to take a quick photo. As I lay there crying out for my mummy, I could see my lower leg was at a funny angle and that my knee cap had slipped round the outer side of my leg. Our mobiles didn't work, I had been unable to get the coastguard MSI broadcasts on the VHF, we were on an uninhabited island but I did have a GPS EPIRB....


The thought of the big red and white Coastguard helicopter emerging from the heat haze on the horizon (with a "wump, wump, wump" and March of the Valkyries blaring from the in flight entertainment system) had a certain appeal. I do love the smell of kerosene in the evenings.

However, I was enjoying our little trip, apart from the screaming agony in my knee, and the prospect of being untimely ripped from the bosom of Gunna was rather upsetting. "Oh dear" I thought, "I had better get myself out of this mess." So I waved the helicopter boys away, took a deep breath, dug my heel deep into the sand and levered my leg straight. I couldn't breathe with the excruciating pain but it went back in with a sickening clunk. I then hyper-extended my knee (to take the tension off my quadriceps) and used both hands to lever the tendon and the knee cap back into place. I screamed at the watching seals as the patella scraped its way over the bones. I nearly blacked out but it is was done. "Oh bother! That smarted some!"

I took a handful of Diclofenac and then strapped up my knee, which was now the size of a melon, with duct tape. I wish I had had the foresight to shave my leg before putting the duct tape on... I was really looking forward to the therapeutic effects of some 16 year old Bowmore distillate and poured us all some snifters, as the others were all looking a little white, even David the vet. Unfortunately the Diclofenac had hurt my stomach, so David ended up with my Bowmore!

What now? Well Jim had brought a walking pole, so I used that to hobble about and direct the others to load and carry my boat down the beach. I filled a 10l water bag and put it in the cockpit floor beneath my knee. Jennifer held my kayak steady in the surf and David and Jim lifted me into the cockpit. It was only 56km back to Portuairk and if we left now it would be high water when we got there and that would save a 500m walk back to the car!

13 days later I am still laid up. Yesterday my calf and foot swelled up and became very hot and painful when I was visiting my wife Alison, who was just out of theatre having had a hip replacement (I was supposed to be her gopher, a very serious loss of Brownie points)! When I hobbled into her ward on crutches, the sister said " I'm sorry we were not expecting you." "That's a pity." I replied "My wife and I thought you had a 'two for one' offer on this week!"

My daughter insisted on dropping me off at the local Casuality Department (Glaswegian for A&E or Emergency Room). It was 8:30pm. I could see it was going to be a long night, in fact, I thought she had dropped me off at the local Police station! It was 5 hours before I was seen but the floor show was better than "Big Brother"!

It turns out I have developed a deep vein thrombosis. Untreated, these can be somewhat troublesome little things (but at least 90% of people don't get a big pulmonary embolism and die). I was quite pleased when the young doctor offered an anticoagulant jab. I'll need a few more of those if I don't want to end up like those boats in Scarinish harbour; on my knees in the sand, at the end of my seagoing days....

I'll be back!

13/06/2009

Better days, the birth of a new community on Eigg.

When Ian and I crested the summit of the "trans Eigg highway", we came across this old play boat for local school children. It was well and truly high and dry!

The Old Shop is now a museum so the free entry sign is not out of place.

Just past the Old Shop we came to an even older standing stone on the way to...

...the school building which currently houses 10 pupils. The school boasts a HebNet dish and a recently installed biomass heating system. It burns logs grown on the island and new trees are planted to replace those cut down.

As we continued our descent we became surrounded by fog...

...which made the surroundings of this larger standing stone...

...very atmospheric.

Above the moor on which the standing stone stands the Sgurr of Eigg rises sheer.

Next we came to the lovely, well maintained Eigg Parish church.

Nearby the old manse was showing sad signs of neglect.

The mist lifted for a short while giving  some more...

...great views to the Sgurr of Eigg which is only 39m high but is one of the most...

...dramatic and distinctive blades of rock on the west coast of Scotland. It is composed of volcanic pitchstone which sits on ancient sedimentary rocks.

Descending towards Galmisdale we passed this array of solar panels which form part of Eigg's electricity grid   together with hydro power and wind power generators. The grid was opened in 2008 and now supplies all the homes with 24hr electricity. Prior to that islanders depended on noisy diesel generators.

The mist thickened as we approached the old pier at Galmisdale. An elderly steam yacht lay tied up against the jetty. Perhaps like the wooden play boat she too has seen better days.

Ian and I were nearly back at the shop and cafe, at the head of the old slipway, where we had left our kayaks. Another stone stands above the bay but this is not ancient. Eigg has recently emerged from the cloud of unsympathertic private ownership. This stone was erected  on 12th June 1997 to commemorate the purchase of Eigg by the Isle of Eigg Heritage Trust. Eigg is now owned by the community which lives there and this may partly explain why the island seems to be a thriving community, in stark contrast to what is happening on nearby Canna. Ian and I arrived at Galmisdale with the feeling the island of Eigg, with its ancient and recent history, is now certainly enjoying better days.

Better Days #3

This old fishing boat has seen better days, her still stout timbers are now part of the sea.

In the county of Argyll, on Scotland's west coast, Loch Sween cuts deep inland from the tidal waters of the Sound of Jura. At its head, a dog leg leads into the hidden recesses of Caol Scotnish, a thin ribbon of the sea which penetrates deep into a land shrouded in mosses and oaks.


The shores are steep and rocky and the oaks lean over the sea dipping their leaves in salt water at high tide. We visited on a typical west coast day, the rain was running from leaf to leaf with the drips gathering in size as they went.


Wending our way under dipping and dripping branches we came across this forlorn old fishing boat.


She was just about as far from her old fishing grounds as was possible to get and still be in the realm of the sea. Now instead of her hull rising and falling over ocean swells, the tides rise and fall over her planking. Strands of bladder wrack are left hanging from her hull as the tide recedes.

Go on, get out there, enjoy your better days while you are able.

19/09/2004

Better Days #2

Maidens Harbour is protected from the sea by the rocky Maidens reef. In summer it is full of recreational boats but when a chill eastern wind blows in winter, only this old work boat lists and strains at her moorings. She is tethered with knotted scraps of rope and she is lying low in the water as her hull is flooded with rain and sea spray.

Despite her neglect she still floats, carrying the pride of the craftsmen who sweated her fine curves and lines from planks of stout wood and the men who fished her on stormy waters.

Those were better days, they were proud days.

09/02/2008

Better Days #16 in West Loch Tarbert.

 Beyond West Tarbert pier we came across a graveyard of decaying...

 wooden fishing boats.

This one was FV Kreisker BA207, which was wrecked here about 1987. Their days of harvesting the oceans' bounty had long gone. In short they have seen better days.

We now came to where my friend had suggested we exit the loch to begin our portage across the isthmus into the Firth of Clyde. The West Loch Hotel and the road to Tarbert lay a short distance over a gently sloping grassy bank. It looked ideal, an easy exit with the prospect of a refreshing pint but the illusion was shattered when we paddled into a lagoon of raw sewage, which was bubbling out of the end of a sewage pipe. Yuk! We made a sharp exit.

Ginger haired locals and abandoned piers.

On Eilean Balnagowan the SE wind had increased and was now F5 gusting to F6. We decided that further progress southward would be futile especially since the tide had now turned and was also running north. We decided to return to Ballachuilish.. Mike thought that the conditions were not ideal for paddle sailing but Ian decided to give it a try. He hoisted his sail in the lee of Balnagowan and set off at a cracking pace. Once out into the full strength of the wind and the tide he decided that perhaps Mike had been right and that discretion was the better part of valour  and dropped his sail.

I shouted to Mike and Ian to keep a lookout for each other and I  hoisted my sail and set off for the headland some 1.1km distant. It was a broad reach with a 3km/hr flood tide running R to L across our path. The water became increasingly confused as we approached the headland as the west going tide, pouring out of the sweep of Cuil Bay, met the main north going flood which had gone up the west side of Eilean Balnagowan. It was superb fun.

I paddle sailed the 1.1km in 5minutes 7 seconds and averaged 12.9km/hr and Mike in the Aries and Ian in the Cetus MV paddled it in 9 minutes 55 seconds and averaged 6.7km/hr.

My Aries was only planing for short distances as the waves were rather short and confused. However, the power of the sail helped me catch just about any wave available, even if only for a short ride. I think the speed difference would have been even greater if we had had more even following seas.

 As we proceeded north we gradually entered the lee of the mountains,  the wind dropped and...

...Ian and Mike got their sails going again.  But soon it was back to...

 ...paddling until we reached...

 ...Rubha nam Moine...

 ...with its distinctive trees. We stopped just round the point where...

 ...we were joined by some ginger haired locals.

We took a diversion into tiny Kentallan Bay the entrance of which is marked by its distinctive pier house above the old pier.
.

 The west side of the bay is composed of the steeply wooded slopes of Ardsheal hill. The Bay is a submerged geological fault and at its head...

...there is an old landing place where...

...the sad remains of a flat bottom turntable ferry. These were used on both the Ballachuilish and Corran routes until the mid 1970's. This one had seen better days, though its engine block was still in situ.

 It wasn't just old boats that had seen better days...

We set off home along the east coast of Kentallen Bay passing...

 Ardsheal pier on the way. Steamers used to deliver goods here until the railway from Oban to Ballachilish was built in 1903. At that time a new pier was built beside the Kentallen Railway Station, which is now a hotel. The rock on the north side of Kentallen Bay is an unusual igneous intrusion called Kentallenite.

 We hugged the shore to keep out of the increasingly cold wind and before long...

 ...the Pap of Glencoe reappeared in the east.

 Not much remains of...

 ...the timber part of Ballachuilish Pier but...

 ...the slates of its stone part are still in good shape.

The flood tide now carried us at a good rate of knots as the snow clouds gathered over the Glen Coe mountains.

It was good to see the hotel coming up and we made sure we broke out of the current in order to land at the old ferry slipway.

The Ballachuillish hotel proved really excellent. After a nice warm bath  nothing beats a pint of sports recovery drink by a warm log fire followed by an...

...excellent meal. Mike had mussels to start, Ian had Cullen Skink and I had the vegetarian haggis, neaps and tatties starter. We all had shank of lamb as main course. Yum yum.

All in all another truly excellent day.