Seven years to Coll but it's too late to call

Our trip to Coll had been seven years in gestation. When I first thought of taking up sea kayaking, in the summer of 2002, I gave the late Mike Thomson of Scottish Paddler Supplies a phone call. He sent me his catalogue and on the front cover there was a wonderful photo, by Ronnie Weir, of a white shell sand cove with azure blue water backed by hills of grey gneiss and green grass. Three kayaks lay on the beach ready to take their owners on to the next piece of paradise. Mike is walking purposely towards his kayak, pipe clamped firmly between his teeth.

I soon called Mike back. “Where is that?” I asked him. “Oh that’s the west coast of Coll”, said Mike in his deep gravelly voice, "you will need good weather and a great deal of luck to get out there!”

Each year since then, I have tried to get to Coll but the weather and or surf always broke before we went. Each year, Mike would ask, "Well have you got to Coll yet?" That was how he started our last phone conversation in about May 2008, just before he died. I always answered "Not yet Mike, but soon!" Mike always said, "Give me a call as soon as you get there". Well we finally made it out to Coll on this year's second attempt and it was everything Mike said it would be.

Mike, I am sorry it's too late to call, but thanks for the inspiration.

Douglas

15/06/2009

Anchors aweigh for St Kilda!

On the morning of 2nd June the day had dawned fair and Murdani, the Cuma's skipper weighed anchor for St Kilda!


Soon the low lying dunes of the Monachs were slipping over the horizon astern and only the lighthouse marked their location.


Ahead of the Cuma lay 66km of the open Atlantic Ocean before she would make landfall at St Kilda. Unlike the low lying Monach Islands we had just left, the soaring cliffs and stacks of the St Kilda archipelago form the highest and most stunning sea cliffs in the British Isles.

Even today it is one of the most difficult parts of the British Isles to reach. Although it was midsummer there was no guarantee we would get there. We knew this only too well. Almost exactly two years ago we had had to turn back. We were aboard a 70 foot converted trawler, the MV Dundarg. A force 9 storm swept in off the Atlantic, forcing us to take shelter in Loch Reasort on the west coast of Lewis. The wind was so strong, Dundarg dragged her anchor all night.

Amazingly, despite the difficulty getting there, St Kilda was inhabited for about 3,500 years, until the islanders abandoned her in the 1930's. St Kilda captures the imagination not just because of its unique location and geology but because of the indomitable human spirit of the generations of islanders that survived on her remote and windswept slopes.

02/06/2008

Mike Thomson

My friend Mike Thomson of Scottish Paddler Supplies has died.

He became unwell while driving back to Scotland with a load of new sea kayaks. I can hardly believe what I am writing, as Mike was a larger than life character who was so full of life and seemed such a permanent part of Scottish paddling life. Who can forget his deep sonorous voice "Hello, this is Scottish Paddler Supplies" when he picked up the phone? His voice sounded like a wonderful deep and liquid sound from the back of some distant sea cave.

When I say he was my friend, I am not claiming any exclusivity, he was a warm hearted and open man who made friends with all his customers. He was most certainly not a "box shifter". He liked to get to know his customers' needs before he would sell anything. He would also lend gear to make sure it was what you really wanted. Afterwards, his customer support, if there was a problem with gear, was quite exceptional in my experience of any retail field.

He also took particular care with newcomers to sea kayaking. He would spend a great deal of time giving advice about any aspect of sea kayaking. I was a complete newcomer when I first contacted Mike and I have no doubt that his sound advice helped me safely on my way. As a result of his approachfullness, he built up a loyal band of customers not just in Scotland but in many other countries across the world.

As a retailer, he was a familiar sight with demo boats and stands at symposia such as the Skye Sea Kayaking Symposium and also shows such as the Perth Paddle Show. Of course Mike was not just a retailer, he also designed and manufactured sea kayaking accessories such as J bars for roof racks and kayak trolleys. These are made of such high quality materials that no doubt they will be dug up and puzzled over by future archaeologists! I tested a group of trolleys on the portage over the rough track from Tarbert on Jura for Ocean Paddler magazine. Mike was so pleased when only his trolley made it over unscathed. In fact, it needed to return to the summit to rescue another boat whose trolley had completely broken! I can still remember Mike's hearty chuckle as he read the article. Mike was always looking for ways to improve his designs and he asked if I had any suggestions for the trolley. He was working on a modification when we last spoke, just before he died.


Mike walks over a Coll beach towards an early Quest prototype. Photo by Ronnie Weir.

He was also involved in tests of two P&H prototypes called project X (later to resurface as the Bahiya) and project Y, one of which would be chosen as their new expedition boat. He particularly liked project Y and said it was the one for his customers. He took delivery of one of the first production models which P&H called the the "Cappela Explorer".


Mike named this individual boat "Sea Quest" but told P&H that the name "Capella Explorer" was just confusing customers because of the existing "Capella" in the range. He suggested they should change the name. The y did and the "Quest" was born! Mike's enthusiasm for this boat did much to ensure the success of the Quest and there can hardly be a Scottish beach that has not been graced by several.

He had a great sense of humour and I can still remember his deep HO HO HOs when we shared a joke. One such joke was Brace-a-Float and remarkably he was still getting enquiries about these as recently as last month!

He started his own paddling career with Fife Sea Kayak Club and over the years he had written articles about their exploits for many magazines. Recently he had written several humorous and lively articles about his trips for Ocean Paddler magazine. He hadn't taken photographs at the time but I had followed in his wake and was honoured when he asked if I could supply some photos to go with his articles.

He was also a volunteer trip organiser for the Scottish Canoe Association and in March this year had organised one of the first ever kayaking trips on Loch Katrine after it had been opened to public access for the first time.

Mike loved all aspects of the outdoors but particularly the sea (he was also a sailor). He passed his sense of respect for the sea and of looking after the countryside to all those whom he came across. He played a great role in the expansion of sea kayaking in Scotland but he was always concerned that people should start off feeling respect for the outdoors. He felt that the environment would not be harmed by growing numbers if participants shared this respect. He was not an evangelist though, he simply showed newcomers his own obvious enjoyment of the outdoors.

The world is a better place because of people like Mike Thomson and it is poorer with his passing. However, Mike helped so many people on the way to enjoying their sea kayaking adventures that his joy of life and the outdoors will live on through them for many years to come. I count myself lucky for being one who knew him.

My condolences to all those who have lost with his passing, especially his family and close friends.

Murty Campbell

Murty Campbell is one of the great sea kayaking pioneers. Over a decade ago he completed unsupported crossings to isolated Hebridean outliers such as St Kilda, Sula Sgeir and North Rona. Murty has a quiet unassuming manner which belies his experience of the sea, first of all in the Merchant Navy then as cox of the Stornoway lifeboat and as a sea kayaker.


Murty leads a group through the great tunnel of Geodha na h-Airde on the north coast of Hirta. St Kilda lies 67km (42 miles) off the west coast of North Uist in the Outer Hebrides.

His prescence on the water gives an air of quiet confidence which helps less experienced sea kayakers push their own previous boundaries. The fact that a party of twelve sea kayakers (of mixed ability) paddled right round Hirta in the St Kilda archipelago was entirely due to his leadership.

02/06/2008

A ship's bell rings down the years.

This is the bell of the SS Valkyrian, which was wrecked off Dunure harbour in Ayrshire. I recently posted about the bravery of William "Buckie" Munro and 30 other fishermen from Dunure who bravely rescued all but one of the Vakyrian's crew.

I was absolutely delighted to receive a comment from William Munro, who is a descendant of Buckie Munro. It turns out the bell remained in the possession of his family until 1985! He has very kindly added to and corrected some the information I discovered in Dunure and on the internet.

Here is his comment:


"What is shown in your good account is not a postcard but a painting of the ship which previously was hanging on the wall in Mr Mckinney Maersk Moller's office in Copenhagen.


It was presented to me by Mr Moller in December 1985. Thus the date is in fact 1986 on the inscription. It was presented to me as a gift when the bell from the ship (photo in your article)was donated to the Maersk museum in Copenhagen. It had been in the family since the time of the sinking."

What a wonderful story, two families exchanging tokens and mementos of a momentous event which had thrown their ancestors together 102 years before! Of course, if we had paddled from headland to headland, we would have missed Dunure and been none the wiser. This is an important part of the history of this coastline and now thanks to William we have a first hand account of a consequential event. I have corrected and added to my previous posts.

20/01/2008

Dunure, the birth place of one of the world's largest shipping lines.

I recently posted how the fishermen of the fishing hamlet of Dunure rescued all but two souls from the crews of the Valkyrian and the Iron Duke. Both ships were wrecked on the reefs of Dunure on the night of 11th December 1883. Who would have thought that the bravery of Buckie and his neighbours that night would have resulted in the birth of one of the World's largest shipping lines?


One of the lucky men to be rescued that night was Captain Peter Maersk Moller of the Valkyrian. She was a 381 ton Danish sailing barque bound for Glasgow from Virginia when she got caught in hurricane force winds in the Clyde. Her sails were torn away and she drifted towards the Ayrshire coast. She tried to put out her anchor but the cable broke before the steam paddle tug Iron Duke could reach her. The Iron Duke's engine failed and she was also driven onto the rocks at Dunure and wrecked shortly afterwards.

Here is an account in Captain Maersk Moller's own words:

"The "Valkyrian" sailed on 7th November 1883 from New Port Mews, Virginia, carrying walnut wood. The voyage was smooth, on Thursday 11th December, I passed close by Corsewall Point in a moderate southerly gale. When the watch was set at 8p.m. there was a strong gale, SW to SSW. We drifted along the coast with enough room to keep going throughout the night, but at about 10p.m. the wind veered to WNW and NW in a squall. The sails were blown away like paper. We were then off Turnberry and Ailsa Craig heading WNW and had signalled for a pilot. Land was a few miles to leeward. I called the men to the cabin and explained the situation. I read from the bible and we said a prayer. We could do no more then, but later given the chance, we had to try the best to save ourselves. The ship was driven onto the rocks at Dunure and brokeup. All but one poor sailor was saved, due to the bravery of the men of Dunure."



The Dunure fishermen had managed to save all but Henrie Jansen who was swept away by a giant wave in the darkness. The wooden Valkyrian was smashed to smithereens and just about all that was left was her bell. The bell remained in the possession of William Munro's descendents until they presented it to the descendants of Captain Maersk Moller in 1985.

Captain Maersk Moller returned to the sea and three years later on 16/12/1896 he bought a British built steamship, the SS Laura, from the DFDS line that operated her on the Faroe Island service.


This stamp was issued on 21 February 1983 when SS Laura still sailed under DFDS colours.


Under Captain Maersk Moller, SS Laura continued on the Copenhagen Faroe Island run with a stop each way at Granton near Edinburgh. This photograph was taken in 1908 a year before she was sold. She was subsequently wrecked on the coast of Iceland in 1910.

Captain Maersk Moller painted a light blue stripe on her funnel with a white star on it. He believed it was his lucky star. In 1904 he founded the "The Steamship Company Svendborg" with his son Arnold Peter Maersk Moller. AP did not always agree with his father and the other board members and eight years later went on to found the "Steamship Company of 1912". This has grown into AP Moller-Maersk which is one of the largest companies in the world. Maersk Line container ships such as the Emma Maersk are some of the largest ships afloat.


This is Arnold Maersk McKinney Moller. He was CEO of the company from 1965 until 1993. He is Captain Peter Maersk Moller's grandson.


In 1985, in exchange for the bell of the Valkyrian he presented Mr William Munro, who is a descendent of Buckie Munro, with a painting of the Valkyrian, which had hung in his office at AP Moller-Maersk for many years.

I wonder if Buckie's pipe was made of walnut!

Lastly, I hope that you, the reader, will now realize why we do not paddle from headland to headland!

References
Ayrshire roots.
Dansk Posthistorisk Selskab.
Faroese Stamps.
AP Moller-Maersk.
Mr William Munro 5/02/2008

20/01/2008

The National Life Boat "David Hay".

The Tower, Balcary point.

During gales, the seas off Balcary point in the Solway Firth can be violent due to the strong tides and shallow water. The shelter provided in Auchencairn Bay has been welcomed by generations of Solway seafarers. After the wildness of the cliffs, home to tens of thousands of sea birds, the Tower is the first and most prominent sign of human habitation.


The Boathouse, Balcary Point.

But hidden away in the trees behind a narrow break in the rocks is the Boathouse. Although now a private house it was originally a lifeboat station. In the days before the RNLI, this was where the National Life Boat the "David Hay" was stationed between 1884 and 1914. She was a 35 foot self righting and self draining rowing boat. She was usually manned by a coxswain and 12 oarsmen. Eight rowed at a time while 4 rested. After she was replaced in 1914 the station remained open until 1928 when a motorised lifeboat was stationed at Kirkcudbright and the station finally closed.


The courageous crew of the NLB David Hay.

The David Hay's most notable action took place between the evening of Friday 16th November and the afternoon of Sunday 18th November 1888. A transcript of a contemporary newspaper report is condensed below.

Friday afternoon
A telegraph alarm was received from Kirkbean from where a large ship was spotted flying distress signals out in the middle of the Firth. A gale had been blowing for 24 hours.

Friday evening.
The David Hay was finally launched after nightfall after the tide came in to the slipway. She was manned by Captain Black and 11 men. She left the shelter of Balcary Point in clear moonlight and almost immediately she was nearly engulfed by steep breaking seas in the shallow water. During the night they rowed out into the middle of the Solway towards where the ship had been seen.

Friday 10:00pm
They found the 240 ton Glendalough with her rudder smashed and her sails in tatters. There were 5 men aboard and during the night Captain Black made several attempts to come alongside and get them off. Each time the waves threatened to smash the David Hay into the Glendalough.

Friday midnight
The David Hay stood off until dawn.

Saturday dawn.
In the daylight Captain Black made a further two unsuccessful attempts to come alongside. The gale was not abating and, as the tide was now coming back into the upper Solway ports, Captain Black decided to race downwind to Carsethorn and use the telegraph to summon a steam paddle tug from the docks at Silloth on the English side of the Solway. The crew of the David Hay rested for a few hours.

Saturday afternoon.
The steam tug reached the Glendalough but in huge seas was unable to get a line aboard. The captain decided to steam to Carsethorn and tow the lifeboat out to the Glendalough.

Saturday night.
The tug with the lifeboat in tow finally arrived back at the Glendalough. The tug to windward gave some protection to the David Hay and finally the lifeboat got a line aboard the Glendalogh.

Saturday midnight.
The steam tug with the Glendalough in tow headed back to Silloth. Captain Black and his men started the long row back upwind to the shelter of Balcary. The gale continued throughout the night and in the darkness she was twice rolled onto her beam ends.

Sunday morning.
The men stood by their oars and battled their way over countless Solway rollers until the dawn and long into the day.

Sunday afternoon.
The David Hay finally limped back the shelter of Balcarry. A huge crowd had gathered to recover the lifeboat and carry the exhausted volunteers to the Commercial Inn in Auchencairn.

What a heroic story. What seamanship. What bravery. What service to one's fellow man.

The Indomitable Human Spirit.

I have doubts about whether I am worthy to write about our brave fellow sea kayaker Andrew McAuley. As I write, Andrew has become separated from his kayak about 80 km off the fjord coast of New Zealand South Island. Andrew has nearly completed his amazing crossing of the Tasman Sea from Tasmania. A search for him will be launched shortly as the sun comes up. My thoughts are with his family during their anxious wait.

It is the boldness of spirit that has been shown by people like Andrew that has ensured the survival of our species through times of flood, war, famine, earthquake and ice age. People like Andrew never say "You can't do that" or "It's impossible". We lesser mortals owe our existence to exceptional people like Andrew. Indeed, Polynesia was populated by a few brave souls paddling into the emptiness of the Pacific in open canoes.



Being separated from my kayak is something that concerns me greatly. In 1985 the joint that linked my windsurfer to its rig broke. The board disappeared downwind in seconds and I was left with a useless rig, a harness and a wetsuit. I was 1 km offshore in a force 6 wind and an ebb tide. I was sailing on my own. I had no means of summoning help and the visibility was poor. I decided to dump the rig and swim at right angles to the current. 3 hours later, a combination of wind and swimming took me ashore 3 km down tide from where I had launched. I have never been so exhausted and relieved as when my toe first felt firm Solway sand.

While playing in surf, kayaking just offshore, I have several times lost my hold on my boat after baling out. My fear of separation from my boat caused me to write this recent post.



I pray that dawn brings good news of Andrew.