Transcriber’s Notes
Hyphenation has been standardised.
In the Illustration list the page number 32 was missing and
has been included.
On Page v, the word Cathedra has been changed to Cathedral (drawings
of the Cathedral and the Earl’s Palace at Kirkwall).
_With Sir Donald Currie’s Compliments._
THE CRUISE OF
THE ROYAL MAIL STEAMER
Dunottar Castle
ROUND SCOTLAND ON HER TRIAL TRIP
[Illustration: _Dunottar Castle_]
EDINBURGH
Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE
Printers to Her Majesty
1890
CRUISE OF THE ‘DUNOTTAR CASTLE’
FOREWORD
The first suggestion of this Record of a very charming trip came from
SIR DONALD CURRIE, the genial and courteous Host of our palatial ‘House
Boat.’ Others pressed the task upon me; but no great pressure was
required for so congenial a work. Indeed, I need hardly say that the
preparation of the story of our Cruise has given me infinite pleasure.
My efforts have been ably seconded by the artistic skill of my
fellow-guests, Dr. LENNOX BROWNE of London, and Miss CECILIA G.
BLACKWOOD, whose facile pencils have contributed to the work many
clever and beautiful illustrations. I am indebted to Mr. T. MACLAREN
for the architectural drawings of the Cathedral and the Earl’s Palace
at Kirkwall; while a few of the pictures are taken from photographs
by Miss MUNN, another of our gifted passengers. The whole have
been reproduced with great skill by the various engravers, with the
assistance, and under the supervision, of Mr. JOHN GULICH, who has also
contributed a few original drawings.
It is perhaps fitting that I should offer an apology to the good folks
on board the ‘Dunottar Castle,’ who may not have been prepared for this
realisation of the words of the poet:—
‘A chiel’s amang ye takin’ notes,
And, faith, he’ll prent it.’
W. SCOTT DALGLEISH.
EDINBURGH, _October 1890_.
[Illustration]
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. CONCERNING THE GOOD SHIP, 17
II. IN THE FIRTH OF CLYDE, 24
III. AMONG THE SOUTHERN HEBRIDES, 30
IV. IN THE SOUND OF MULL, 35
V. ROUND ABOUT SKYE, 46
VI. WILD LOCH ALSH AND DARK LOCH DUICH, 52
VII. ROUND CAPE WRATH, 63
VIII. A RAID ON ORKNEY, 70
IX. OUR SHIP’S NAME-MOTHER, 76
X. A DAY OF REST, 83
XI. HOMEWARD BOUND, 87
XII. IN THE FIRTH OF FORTH, 92
EPILOGUE, 95
ILLUSTRATIONS
ARTIST ENGRAVER
R.M.S. ‘Dunottar Castle’ _Frontispiece_.
Dunottar Castle from the
Shore _John Blair_ _C. Hentschel_ _Vignette
Title_.
PAGE
The Music Saloon _John Gulich_ _John Swain_ 18
A Corner of the Ladies’
Boudoir _do._ _do._ 19
The Smoking-room _do._ _do._ 20
The Main-Deck _M. Munn_ (_Photo._) _do._ 21
The Ship on the Stocks at
Fairfield _Lennox Browne_ _do._ 23
Arran—from the Firth of Clyde _do._ _Hare and Co._ 27
Lamlash Bay and Holy Isle _do._ _John Swain_ 28
Scarba and the Isles
—from Mull _do._ _do._ 31
Loch Buy Head—from Carsaig _do._ _do._ 31
Outside of Kerrera—Ben
Cruachan in the distance _Cecelia G. Blackwood_ _Hare and Co._ 32
Dunolly Castle, Oban _Lennox Browne_ _John Swain_ 33
The ‘Iolanthe’ off Oban
—Rainy Weather _do._ _do._ 33
Oban and the Bay (_From Photograph_) _do._ 34
Oban Pier _Lennox Browne_ _do._ 34
The Mull Hills—from Kerrera _C. G. Blackwood_ _Hare and Co._ 35
Lismore Lighthouse _Lennox Browne_ _John Swain_ 36
Castle Duart, Mull _do._ _Hare and Co._ 37
Calve Island, Tobermory _do._ _John Swain_ 38
Ardnamurchan Point _do._ _Hare and Co._ 39
Loch Sunart _do._ _do._ 40
The Narrows—Loch Sunart _Lennox Browne_ _John Swain_ 40
Mist Rainbow on Ardnamurchan
—off Tobermory Lighthouse _do._ _Hare and Co._ 41
Glengorm, Mull _do._ _do._ 41
The Trishnish Islands _do._ _John Swain_ 42
Distant View of Staffa _do._ _do._ 43
The Pilot and a Tobermory _do._ _do._ 44
Lassie
Ardtornish Castle _do._ _do._ 45
The ‘Iolanthe’ off Eigg
and Rum _do._ _do._ 46
Loch Scavaig _do._ _do._ 47
Mountains in Mist—Skye _do._ _do._ 49
Detached Rocks—Coast of
Skye _do._ _do._ 50
Near Strome Ferry _C. G. Blackwood_ _Hare and Co._ 51
Outside of Portree Bay
—Sunrise _Lennox Browne_ _John Swain_ 52
Scalpa Island, Skye _do._ _do._ 53
Whale blowing—off Skye _M. Munn (Photo.)_ _do._ 53
Loch Carron—from Strome
Ferry _Lennox Browne_ _do._ 54
Head of Loch Carron—from
Strome Ferry _do._ _do._ 54
Misty Morning—Loch Carron _C. G. Blackwood_ _Hare and Co._ 55
The Coolins—the ‘Dunottar
Castle’ _Lennox Browne_ _John Swain_ 55
Kyle Akin _do._ _Hare and Co._ 56
Castle Maoil—near Kyle
Akin _do._ _John Swain_ 57
In Loch Alsh—Skye in the
Distance _C. G. Blackwood_ _do._ 57
Eilean Donan Castle,
Loch Duich _Lennox Browne_ _do._ 58
Entrance to Loch Duich _do._ _do._ 58
Head of Loch Duich _do._ _Hare and Co._ 59
The Coolins—from
Loch Alsh _do._ _do._ 60
Sammy and the Piper _do._ _John Swain_ 61
Head of Loch Kishorn _C. G. Blackwood_ _Hare and Co._ 62
Rona Island—Lewis and
Harris in the distance _Lennox Browne_ _John Swain_ 63
Summer Sheen—in Skye
Waters _M. Munn_ (_Photo._) _do._ 64
The Coolins—Blaven
—Marsco _Lennox Browne_ _Hare and Co._ 65
Cape Wrath _do._ _John Swain_ 66
Thurso—from the Bay _do._ _Hare and Co._ 67
The Old Man of Hoy _do._ _John Swain_ 68
Copinsay Island, Orkney _do._ _Hare and Co._ 70
Kirkwall—from the Bay _do._ _John Swain_ 71
The Earl’s Palace, Kirkwall _T. Maclaren_ _do._ 72
Gable of the Earl’s Palace,
Kirkwall _do._ _do._ 73
West Door, Kirkwall Cathedral _do._ _do._ 75
Dunottar Castle—from a
Port-hole _Lennox Browne_ _do._ 77
Dunottar Castle in the
Olden Time (_From an old Print_) . . . 79
Montrose—from the Sea _Lennox Browne_ _John Swain_ 82
Entrance to Loch Torridon _C. G. Blackwood_ _Hare and Co._ 86
The Bell Rock Lighthouse _Lennox Browne_ _John Swain_ 87
May Island _do._ _do._ 88
Tantallon Castle _do._ _do._ 88
The Bass Rock _do._ _do._ 90
Inchkeith _do._ _do._ 91
Edinburgh—from Leith
Roads _do._ _Hare and Co._ 92
The Tug in Leith Roads _do._ _John Swain_ 94
[Illustration: FROM LEITH ROADS]
[Illustration: _Dunottar Castle from the Shore_]
THE LOG
1890.
_August 30. Saturday._—Sailed from Greenock, down the Firth of Clyde,
and round Arran. Anchored in Lamlash Bay.
_31. Sunday._—Sailed round Mull of Cantire, and through the Sound of
Islay. Met the ‘Iolanthe.’ Anchored off north point of Kerrera.
_Sept. 1. Monday._—Lay at anchor all day. Visited Oban.
_2. Tuesday._—Sailed up Sound of Mull. Visited Ardnamurchan, Loch
Sunart, and Trishnish Islands in ‘Iolanthe.’ Anchored at Tobermory.
_3. Wednesday._—Sailed between Eigg and Rum to Loch Scavaig. Visited
Loch Coruisk. Sailed round Skye. Anchored off Portree.
_4. Thursday._—Visited Strome Ferry, Loch Alsh, and Loch Duich in
‘Iolanthe.’ Anchored in Loch Kishorn.
_5. Friday._—Sailed up west coast, round Cape Wrath, and along north
coast. Anchored in Scrabster Roads, Thurso.
_6. Saturday._—Sailed through Pentland Firth, to Kirkwall in the
Orkneys. Anchored in Kirkwall Bay. Visited Kirkwall Cathedral,
the Maeshowe, and the Stones of Brogar and Stenness. Started at 6
P.M. and sailed southward.
_7. Sunday._—Sailed past Aberdeen, Stonehaven, Dunottar Castle,
Montrose, the Bass Rock, etc. Anchored at Leith.
_8. Monday._—Visited the Forth Bridge in the ‘Iolanthe.’ Ship visited
by Corporations of Edinburgh and Leith, and by the public. Guests
debarked. Ship sailed for London in the evening.
[Illustration]
CRUISE OF THE ‘DUNOTTAR CASTLE’
I
CONCERNING THE GOOD SHIP
The ‘Dunottar Castle’ is the twenty-first ship built for the ‘Castle’
Company, and is the largest, and in all respects the most perfect, of
all the vessels engaged in the South African Royal Mail Service. This
fine vessel was built by the Fairfield Shipbuilding and Engineering
Company of Govan, Glasgow, under the direction of Mr. Saxon White, the
Manager of that Company, and the supervision of Mr. John List and Mr.
George Scott of the ‘Castle’ Line. The fact that the ship was ordered
from the Fairfield Company without competing contracts being invited
from other firms, is a proof of the confidence which Sir Donald Currie
had in the builders.
This is especially noteworthy when the dimensions and the capacity of
the ship are remembered. She exceeds the largest of her sister ships,
the ‘Roslin Castle’ by 1000 tons, the gross tonnage of the ‘Dunottar
Castle’ being nearly 5500 tons, and her net tonnage 3069. Her length
is 435 feet; the extreme breadth is 50 feet; and she is 36 feet deep.
The hull is constructed entirely of steel, with a continuous double
cellular bottom, and with eight vertical bulk-heads, which extend to
the upper deck, and divide the ship into nine water-tight compartments.
The engines are of the triple-expansion type, the cylinders being
respectively 38 inches, 61½ inches, and 100 inches in diameter, with
a stroke of 5 feet 6 inches. Between 6000 and 7000 horse-power can be
developed. Steam is supplied at a pressure of 160 lbs. to the square
inch, by four large steam boilers and a supplementary boiler, each with
six corrugated furnaces.
[Illustration: THE MUSIC SALOON]
The steamer has accommodation for 360 passengers—170 first class, 100
second class, and 100 third class; but the last class is capable of
being increased by 150 at least. The crew consists of 150 officers
and men, commanded by Captain Webster, the senior Captain of the
‘Castle’ Company. Each of the dining saloons accommodates at one time
the whole complement of passengers assigned to it,—a point of no
small importance, as the trouble and worry of double meals are thereby
avoided. The ship is admirably equipped in every particular, and the
furnishings are of the most elegant character. The first-class dining
saloon is a very handsome apartment, with panelled walls and dado, and
is furnished throughout with refined taste. Abaft of this saloon, there
is a supplementary saloon for children and nurses. Forming a spacious
gallery above the dining saloon is the music-room, which is beautifully
decorated in white and gold, and exquisitely furnished in old-gold
upholstery. Adjoining this, and separated from it by a handsome
screen of bevelled glass, is the ladies’ boudoir, which is also most
luxuriously furnished.
[Illustration:
A CORNER OF
THE LADIES’
BOUDOIR]
A notable feature of this part of the ship is the spacious double
staircase, leading from the saloon to the main and upper decks. Like
the saloon itself, it is handsomely decorated with solid panels,
and every detail is conceived and executed in good taste. Abaft the
main deck state-rooms, there is a handsome and very comfortable
smoking-room, with bar attached, which is much superior to the
ordinary smoking-rooms of ocean-going steamers, in respect both of
size and of furnishings. Behind the staircase on the upper deck is the
reading-room, which contains writing-tables, book-shelves, and lounges.
[Illustration:
THE
SMOKING
ROOM]
This may be the proper place to mention that the ship’s library, of
nearly five hundred volumes, is exceedingly attractive and well
selected. It contains many standard works in history, travels, and
fiction, including some of the most recent publications. It also
contains valuable books of reference, in the shape of atlases and
gazetteers, and a representative selection of music, including
Scottish, English, and Irish songs and glees. The man or the woman
would be very difficult to please who could not find within the ship
itself, with its pianos, organ, and library, ample resources for
spending pleasantly and profitably three or four weeks at sea.
The promenade deck is exceptionally spacious, and affords ample
room for those recreations with which time is wont to be beguiled
in tropical seas. The first-class state-rooms are fitted up in a
very handsome, luxurious style, with iron spring-beds, sofas, and
lavatories, all constructed on the most approved principles.
[Illustration: _The Main-Deck._]
The intermediate sleeping-berths differ but little, in point of comfort
and convenience, from those assigned to first-class passengers; and
the dining-saloon, which has its own piano and organ, is infinitely
superior to what we were accustomed to in old-fashioned steamers. The
third-class accommodation is altogether superior to that provided in
the general run of ocean-going steamers.
The sanitary arrangements include some special features, one of which
is an improved system of ventilation with compressed air. Marble
baths, and all the most approved lavatory appliances, are provided in
sumptuous fashion. A novel luxury in the ‘Castle’ liners is a barber’s
shop, with a rotatory hair-brushing machine worked by an electric
motor. Indeed, scarcely anything is lacking which could be desired by
the most fastidious traveller on shore.
One of the greatest charms of the ship is the electric lighting, which
is carried out on a perfect scale. Nothing has done so much as the
introduction of the electric light to make ocean-travelling comfortable
and safe. It is bright and cleanly, and it is always available. It
is an immense advantage to be able to turn on a bright light in your
state-room at any moment. The evening hours in the saloon, instead of
being dreary, are looked forward to with pleasure, and are thoroughly
enjoyed. In point of fact, the saloon is quite as brilliant at night as
during the day.
The decks also are brightly lighted up at night with electric cluster
lights, as well as with single lamps, so that dancing and other
recreations can be carried on with the greatest comfort. The ship’s
band of ten or twelve instruments is also an excellent institution,
which does much to relieve the tedium of the voyage.
The rapidity with which the ‘Dunottar Castle’ was got into working
order speaks well for the resources and the organising power of the
Clyde shipbuilders. When the ship was launched at Govan, on May 22d,
she was a mere hulk—a huge steel case intersected with a few floors
and partitions. When the trial trip took place on August 28th, exactly
fourteen weeks later, she was completely finished, furnished, and
manned, and was ready in every particular to undertake a long voyage.
Those who saw her at the Tail of the Bank, off Greenock, at the latter
date, had some difficulty in believing that she was the same vessel.
Everything was in its place, down to the minutest curtain-ring and the
smallest carpet-tack; and every man was at his post, from the Captain
to the cabin-boy.
The behaviour of the ship on the trial trip was admirable, and left
nothing to be desired. The day was splendid, and everything went
well. The ship attained a speed of 17½ knots on the measured mile,
off Skelmorlie, and both builders and owners were satisfied with the
results, as they had good reason to be.
[Illustration: _The Ship on the Stocks—May 22, 1890._]
II
IN THE FIRTH OF CLYDE
The trial cruise will not soon be forgotten by those who were
privileged to take part in it. The trip was worthy of the great ship,
and worthy of the famous ‘Castle’ Line. The strangers and foreigners,
the Englishmen and the colonists, who were of the party, had an
opportunity of seeing all that is grandest in Scottish coast-scenery,
such as is enjoyed by few natives; and every Scotsman on board must
have felt proud of his country.
The course taken was the converse of that of Agricola, when his galleys
sailed round Scotland, and proved for the first time that Britain was
an island. While the Romans sailed, or rather rowed in open galleys,
from the Firth of Forth to the Firth of Clyde, the ‘Dunottar Castle’
pleasure-party steamed from the Clyde to the Forth in a veritable
floating palace, replete with the comforts of advanced civilisation,
and embodying the most recent developments of science in the
applications of steam and of electricity. The contrast is almost too
great to be appreciated even by the most imaginative modern mind. It is
difficult to realise what the feelings of James Watt, or of Henry Bell,
would be were they permitted to see to what perfection the results of
their inventive genius have been brought by their successors.
Perhaps few of those who entered on the expedition realised the useful
purposes which it served. They thought only of the pleasant holiday
provided for them; but in truth it answered a more practical and more
important end. It was, in fact, a preliminary trial, in which the crew
and all the officers, including the stewards, were put through their
facings, and in which the commissariat and other resources of the
management were subjected to a pretty severe test. The whole routine of
the daily life was precisely similar to that which will prevail in the
regular voyages of the ship from London to the Cape, and it is but just
to say that the results were entirely satisfactory.
The ‘Dunottar Castle’ presented a splendid appearance as she rode at
anchor at the Tail of the Bank, off Greenock, on Saturday, August 30th,
awaiting the arrival of the invited guests of Sir Donald Currie. Being
light of draught, she lay high in the water, and made everything else
in the neighbourhood, even an American liner, look small in comparison,
while her beautiful lines were seen to the greatest advantage. On
board, everything was ship-shape and in good order; and when Sir Donald
Currie, on his arrival from Garth, was received on the main deck about
noon, by Captain Webster and his officers, it might have been supposed
that the steamer had been in commission for years, and was undergoing
an inspection on her return from one of her ocean voyages.
The view from the upper deck was magnificent. Few scenes in the British
Isles can compare in beauty and variety with the estuary of the Clyde
opposite Greenock. We stood in the centre of a wide cyclorama, nearly
every point in which glowed in brilliant sunshine. Greenock alone was
dark and murky, as is its wont. Even Gourock gleamed in colour, as it
caught the sun’s rays emerging from the mists. Dumbarton Castle loomed
large in the warm haze to the eastward. Helensburgh basked peacefully
on its wooded slopes. Kilcreggan and Cove smiled in their leafy bowers,
while beyond them Ben Lomond raised on high its massive head. Westward,
the rugged ridge of the Arrochar Hills and Argyll’s Bowling Green
filled up the distance. Then the line of view descended again at Strone
Point, and the placid Holy Loch, and the bright villas of Hunter’s
Quay, and so the circuit was complete.
When the last tug-load of passengers and luggage had been received on
board, the anchor was weighed, and the majestic ship steamed down the
Firth past the Cloch lighthouse, past Castle Wemyss, and Wemyss Bay,
and Skelmorlie, on the one side, and past Dunoon and Inellan on the
other. Off the Greater Cumbrae we lay-to, in order to receive on board
Lord Provost Muir of Glasgow, who, with his brother Commissioners of
the Clyde Trust, had been engaged in an inspection of the lighthouses
on these coasts. Their little steamer drew up alongside, and the
Commissioners were courteously received on board and were shown over
the ship. The Commissioners, _minus_ the Lord Provost, were dismissed
with a cheer, and we proceeded on our way.
Passing Rothesay Bay and Mount Stuart House, one of the Marquis of
Bute’s residences, we enter a wider sea, and get a fine view of
Goatfell and the rugged peaks of Arran which surround Glen Sannox.
Opposite that weird glen, of evil omen, we turn northward, and steam
past the Fallen Rocks, and round the north point of Arran into
Kilbrannan Sound, our purpose being to sail round Arran and to anchor
for the night in Lamlash Bay. We have a pleasant glimpse, in passing,
of Loch Ranza and its rugged keep, and of the valleys and ‘cols’ that
lead over to Glen Sannox and Glen Rosa. The west coast of Arran,
however, is distinctly tame, and gives few tokens of cultivation and
industry, until we approach the south end of the island. There are,
indeed, more signs of an active population on the peninsula of Cantire,
on our right. Arran, however, can boast of historical, or at least of
traditional, interest, for the King’s Cave, near Blackwaterfoot, is
said to have been the first resting-place of Robert the Bruce on his
landing from Rathlin Island.
[Illustration: _Arran—from the Firth of Clyde._]
As we steam southward, that island and the Irish coast are clearly
visible beyond the Mull of Cantire. Looking back from this point, the
picturesque outline of the mountains in the north of Arran stands out
boldly against the northern sky, while southward we see Ailsa Craig
and its pale grey rocks, with their myriads of gannets. By-and-by, in
the gloamin’, we pass Whiting Bay, in which at least half a hundred
small boats are busily engaged in deep-sea fishing. Then we steam
cautiously between Holy Island and King’s Cross Point (another landmark
of the Bruce) into Lamlash Bay, where we drop anchor, and prepare to
dine in peace.
[Illustration: _Lamlash Bay and Holy Isle._]
We then begin to realise the importance of the fact that our cruise
is to be one of pleasure, as well as of practical use, in a sense
not previously thought of. We are to steam ahead during daylight,
and our nights are to be spent peacefully at anchor in quiet waters.
The arrangement is not only comfortable on that account, but is
also convenient, inasmuch as we shall miss very little of the
coast-scenery—none of it, indeed, if we are careful to rise betimes.
As we lay at our anchorage, we had an opportunity of realising what the
electric light has done for navigation, not merely in the brilliant
lighting of our own ship, but in that of several of the Clyde steamers.
When the ‘Duchess of Hamilton,’ a coasting steamer, passed through the
bay with her lights gleaming, she might have been a floating firework
displayed for our special gratification.
Calmly and peacefully the night was passed. Some spent an hour
pleasantly in the Music Saloon, under the spell of music and song.
Others found more congenial occupation in the Smoking-room. Not a few
lingered on deck till a late hour, bewitched by the galaxy of stars,
or watching the glimmering lights of the Lamlash cottages, as, one by
one, they succumbed to the demands of repose, and bade us a silent
‘good-night.’ One or two adventurous rowing boats came out at a late
hour to inspect the monster of the deep that had suddenly disturbed the
quiet of the bay; but the plash of their oars soon died away, and our
little world was left in a silence that was felt.
[Illustration: _Ailsa Craig._]
III
AMONG THE SOUTHERN HEBRIDES
If the denizens of Lamlash were looking forward to obtaining a good
view of the ‘Dunottar Castle’ next day (Sunday), they must have been
grievously disappointed, for we made an early start, and were out of
the bay before the majority of them were out of their beds. By seven
o’clock, we had rounded the Mull of Cantire, and were beginning to feel
the swell of the Atlantic. The morning was clear and crisp, and both
sea and sky seemed joyous in the sunshine. Nearly every one was on deck
for an hour before breakfast, and the sharp air was most exhilarating.
[Illustration: _Scarba and the Isles—from Mull._]
[Illustration: _Loch Buy Head—from Carsaig, Mull._]
The Irish coast remained in sight for several hours; but still more
attractive was the view of the west coast of Cantire. Machrihanish
Bay awakened pleasant memories in the golfers on board. They had been
there, and still would go; and very tempting the bay looked with its
gleaming sands and sparkling wavelets. Our course now lay through the
Sound of Islay, which runs between that island and its sister Jura.
Long before we reached the Sound, we were once more in quiet water
under the lee of Islay, and with the well-marked Paps of Jura right
ahead. In the Sound, the sea was absolutely still, and there we had
morning service, reverently conducted by Captain Webster, Sir Donald
Currie reading the lessons. Shortly afterwards we met, by appointment,
our host’s large steam yacht, the ‘Iolanthe,’ which attended us
during the remainder of our cruise, and added greatly to our enjoyment
by taking us into narrow and shallow lochs and sounds into which the
great ship could not have ventured. Mr. James Currie, of Leith, with
his family, was on board, and did all in his power to render our
voyage an agreeable one. The interest of the sail increased as we
passed northward between Jura and Colonsay. The weather was superb.
The Sabbath calm seemed to have settled down on hill and sea. It was a
day for lounging on deck, and for gazing at the summer sky, or on the
Islands of the Blest which surrounded us.
[Illustration: _Outside of Kerrera—Ben Cruachan in the distance._]
We were prepared for a toss at the Strait of Corrievreckan; but
though the boiling of the tide was perceptible to the eye, it was
unappreciable by any other sense, at least to those in the massive
‘Dunottar Castle.’ As we crossed the Firth of Lorne, the mountains of
Argyllshire came into full view, Ben Cruachan and Ben More of Mull
being specially conspicuous. Off Scarba, we made a wide detour westward
in the direction of the Ross of Mull, so that we might see its cliffs
and caves and the shores of dark Loch Buy.
[Illustration: _Dunolly Castle, Oban._]
Toward evening, we reached our anchorage at the northern point of
Kerrera, but outside of Oban Bay, which is crowded at this season with
yachts and other small craft. We were opposite to David Hutchison’s
monument, set up near the scene of his labours, to remind travellers of
the great things which he did for them, and for Scotland, in opening up
the Western Highlands to swift steamer traffic. We had also a distant
view of Dunolly Castle, the ancestral home of the Macdougalls. Evening
service was conducted by Sir Arthur Blackwood, Secretary of the General
Post-Office, London; and the earnestness and freshness of his address
were highly appreciated.
[Illustration: _The ‘Iolanthe’ off Oban—Rainy Weather._]
The weather changed in the night, and we awoke to find ourselves
enveloped in mist and in drizzling rain. A projected trip up Loch
Linnhe to Ballachulish was consequently abandoned; and we spent the
whole day at our anchorage, awaiting the arrival of expected guests
at Oban, who were brought off in the ‘Iolanthe,’ and thence in the
steam launch. Those of us who were so inclined had thus an opportunity
of seeing the capital of the Western Highlands, though not under the
most favourable conditions; of visiting its attractive shops, and
of admiring, though at a safe distance, its numerous or innumerable
hotels. When it rains on this coast it does so with a vengeance. In
fine weather Oban is one of the most beautiful places in Scotland; on a
wet day it is one of the most disagreeable under heaven.
[Illustration: _View of Oban and Bay._]
[Illustration: _Oban Pier._]
IV
IN THE SOUND OF MULL
[Illustration: _The Mull Hills—from Kerrera._]
Next morning (Tuesday) finds us in the Sound of Mull, one of the most
beautiful and romantic of Highland seas. The lighthouse full astern
stands on the point of the island of Lismore, anciently the seat of the
Bishops of Argyll, and still more famous as the home of its Dean, James
Macgregor, who, in the sixteenth century, made a valuable collection
of poems in Gaelic and English, well known as the ‘Book of the Dean
of Lismore.’ The picturesque ruin at the entrance to the Sound, on
the eastmost point of Mull, is Duart Castle, the home of the Macleans.
Not far off is the ‘Lady Rock,’ which disappears at high-water, and
on which one of the Macleans once left his wife, intending that she
should perish when the tide rose and covered the rock. She was Ellen of
Lorne, a sister of the Earl of Argyll. One of her brothers rescued her,
and afterwards slew Maclean. Such stories are common in these regions:
they cling, like the ivy, to every ruined tower. These traditions of
lawlessness and vengeance formed the greater part of the education of
the people.
[Illustration: _Lismore Lighthouse._]
By and by we pass on the right Ardtornish Castle, a stronghold of the
Lords of the Isles, and memorable as the site of the opening of Scott’s
poem:—
‘Thy rugged halls, Ardtornish! rung,
And the dark seas, thy towers that lave,
Heaved on the beach a softer wave,
As ’mid the tuneful choir to keep
The diapason of the Deep.
Lulled were the winds on Inninmore,
And green Loch Aline’s woodland shore,
As if wild woods and waves had pleasure
In listing to the lovely measure.’
The ruins of Ardtornish are near the entrance to Loch Aline, and under
the shadow of the massive and bare hills of Morven. These hills had
a never-ending charm for Dr. Norman M‘Leod, whose native village of
Morven lies on the east coast of the Sound, nearly opposite Tobermory.
The Sound to-day is in one of its angry moods: clouds obscure the sun;
mists cling to the mountains, and the sullen sky is reflected in the
fretful sea.
[Illustration: _Castle Duart—Mull._]
Presently we pass on the left the ruins of Aros Castle, another of
those rock-built fortresses which are so numerous on these coasts. The
stupendous mountain-wall which appears to close up the Sound at the
north end is the rocky peninsula of Ardnamurchan, the most westerly
point on the British mainland. At its base stands yet another ruined
castle, that of Mingarry, also a stronghold of the Lords of the Isles,
and woven with warp of treachery and woof of heroism into their
adventurous story.
[Illustration: Calve Isl^d. Tobermory]
Passing Tobermory Bay, to which we shall return by-and-by, we sail
beyond Ardnamurchan Point, and have a distant view of the Scuir of
Eigg and the graceful outline of the mountains of Rum. The mists lift
somewhat, and give us a view of the north coast of Mull, and of the
bold beetling headland of Ardnamurchan, with its tall lighthouse thrust
out into the sea. Then we return to Tobermory, the quaint and primitive
capital of Mull, and anchor in its lovely Bay.
The village, which, like a few other places in the Highlands, looks
best at a distance, skirts two sides of the Bay. The western banks are
steep and richly wooded. On the east, the Bay is cut off from the sea
by the small island of Calve, which forms a natural breakwater, thus
producing a spacious and very safe anchorage. Aros House, imbedded in
woods, stands on the south side of the Bay, and near it there is a very
fine waterfall on the stream which emerges from the Mishnish Lochs—a
favourite resort of anglers. From the deck, a lovely view of the Sound
of Mull is seen over the crest of Calve. The hills in the distance are
dark, but the east shores of the Sound are lighted up with gleams of
sunshine, developing marvellous combinations of colour.
[Illustration: _Ardnamurchan Point._]
The day being still young, the ‘Iolanthe’ is brought into requisition,
and a delightful trip is made up Loch Sunart, a veritable fiord in its
windings, and its narrowness, and its flanking mountains. As we enter
the Loch, we catch one of those occasional and transient effects which
delight artists, but which it is hazardous to paint, and still more
difficult to reproduce without colour. A brilliant rainbow rests one of
its extremities on the massive hill of Ardnamurchan, and practically
cuts it in two; one half of it being melted away under the changing
colours of the arch.
[Illustration: _Loch Sunart._]
[Illustration: _The Narrows—Loch Sunart._]
It was during this trip that some members of the party developed
extraordinary skill in the game of deck quoits, while others indulged
in athletic sports of various kinds, terminating in a ‘tug-of-war’ in
which nearly every man and boy on board took part. It was alleged,
however, with what truth I know not, that a majority of those on the
winning side wore deck shoes with india-rubber soles. Nevertheless,
they maintained stoutly that ‘it was weight that told.’ The sail up
Loch Sunart was very enjoyable. A fair breeze was blowing, and the sun,
which had been concealed before, burst through the clouds, and shed
beauty on the landscape.
[Illustration:
_Mist Rainbow on Ardnamurchan—off Tobermory Lighthouse._]
[Illustration: _Glengorm—Mull._]
In the afternoon we embarked on the ‘Iolanthe’ again, and sailed round
the north coast of Mull in fairly good weather, past Ardmore Point,
past Glengorm Castle (the property of Mr. James Cowan), past Caliach
Point, and Calgary Castle with its marvellous silver strand, and past
Trishnish Point, in the direction of the Trishnish Islands. A farmhouse
near Caliach Point has an interest for literary men. Thomas Campbell
the poet spent five months there as tutor when a young man; and there
he first conceived the theme of _The Pleasures of Hope_. Another poet
has revelled in this region; for the Trishnish Islands belong to the
group described by Scott:—
‘The shores of Mull on the eastward lay,
And Ulva dark, and Colonsay,
And all the group of islets gay
That guard famed Staffa round.
Then all unknown its columns rose,
Where dark and undisturbed repose
The cormorant had found,
And the shy seal had quiet home,
And weltered in that wondrous dome,
Where, as to shame the temples decked
By skill of earthly architect,
Nature herself, it seemed, would raise
A Minster to her Maker’s praise!’
[Illustration: _The Trishnish Islands._]
The Trishnish Islands are covered with rich grass, which makes
excellent pasture. The Laird of Calgary fattens his mutton there during
the summer months, and sends out a yacht once a fortnight to capture
two or three sheep for use. As the animals are as wild and as swift
as deer, capturing them is no easy task. They are generally driven by
a contracting line of men and boys into a trap made with spars and a
sail between two rocks on the shore; but they often break through the
cordon, and even leap sometimes over the heads of the drivers.
[Illustration: _Distant View of Staffa._]
This, however, is a digression. The rough sea, and consideration for
the weaker vessels of the party, male and female, induced Sir Donald
Currie to abandon the intention of visiting Staffa, with a distant view
of which the guests had to be satisfied. It is noteworthy that this
yachting cruise was the only occasion, during the whole trip, on which
symptoms of sea-sickness showed themselves. It may be added that the
most serious case was that of Sir Donald’s young piper, who had never
been on the sea before; but scarcely had the yacht been put about when
a few blasts of a pibroch, recalling memories of the braes of Garth
and Glenlyon, gave audible proofs of his convalescence, and indeed
completed the cure. On returning to Tobermory we landed, and enjoyed a
refreshing walk on the shore before dinner: some exploring the woods
about Aros House, and others climbing to the heights that surround the
town, whence a wider view was obtained.
[Illustration:
_The Pilot._—— _A Tobermory Lassie._]
The evening was given up to recreation, including dancing to the music
of the ship’s band, under the awning on the promenade deck, which,
lighted up with electric lamps, made a spacious and brilliant ballroom.
This was carried on in presence of nearly the whole population of
Tobermory, which had come out, on Sir Donald’s invitation, to see
the stately ship. The performances were not by any means confined to
the saloon folks. Our stalwart pilot, relieved of his duties for the
night, came out strong in the ‘reels’; and, having shown his paces in
a ‘fling’ with our chief, he was in great request with the Tobermory
lassies, with one of whom he engaged in a kind of terpsichorean duel,
which reminded the spectators of
‘The dancing pair that, simply, sought renown
By holding out to tire each other down.’
Another hero of the dance was one of the quartermasters, who was a
match for any of the natives, or, for that matter, for any of the crew,
engineers or seamen. It was a case of ‘one down, another come on,’
and the contest might have lasted till break of day. Unfortunately,
however, the festivities were marred by a heavy downpour of rain; but
that did not prevent the singing of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and ‘God save the
Queen,’ or hearty cheers for our host, before the party broke up. One
could not but feel sorry for the poor people who had to find their way
to the shore in the dark, and through the pelting, pitiless rain.
[Illustration: _Ardtornish Castle._]
V
ROUND ABOUT SKYE
Wednesday morning was dull and misty. We had to feel our way cautiously
between Eigg and Rum in the direction of Skye. No view could be
obtained either of the Coolins or of the mountains of the mainland.
It was indeed tantalising to know that we were in the neighbourhood
of some of the grandest scenery in Scotland, and to be unable to
see a vestige of it, except occasionally a few outlying rocks, or a
mountainous headland swept by the mist. Early in the day we cast anchor
in the Sound of Soa, near the entrance to Loch Scavaig.
[Illustration: _The ‘Iolanthe’ off Eigg and Rum._]
[Illustration: _Loch Scavaig._]
The object of stopping at that point in the voyage was to visit Loch
Coruisk, the wildest and most desolate of Highland lochs, imbedded in
the heart of the Coolins. In spite of the mist and the threatening
rain, nearly the whole party started in the ‘Iolanthe’ for the head
of Loch Scavaig. Scavaig itself is a very grand loch, partaking of
the gloom of the mountains that surround it,—a gloom relieved only
by the breakers on the rocky coast, and the glint of the wings of
sea-birds. The landing, at all times difficult, was rendered more
so by the slippery state of the rocks: but it was effected without
serious mishap. After a rough walk of half a mile, over boulders and
broken rocks, the south end of the dark lake was reached. No one had
any reason to regret the toils or the risks of the expedition. Though
the mists concealed the mountain tops, they intensified the darkness
of the lake. The rain, which had been falling for some time in sport,
now began to come down in earnest, and it quickly swelled the thousand
streams that covered the hillsides. The silver streaks had become
roaring cataracts. The loneliness of the scene was oppressive. The
lines in which Scott has described the silent lake, whose name is a
synonym for desolation, occurred to many. It is the Bruce that speaks:—
‘Saint Mary! what a scene is here!
I’ve traversed many a mountain-strand,
Abroad, and in my native land,
And it has been my lot to tread
Where safety more than pleasure led;
Thus, many a waste I’ve wandered o’er,
Clombe many a crag, crossed many a moor;
But, by my halidome,
A scene so rude, so wild as this,
Yet so sublime in barrenness,
Never did my wandering footsteps press,
Where’er I happed to roam.’
No marvel thus the Monarch spake;
For rarely human eye has known
A scene so stern as that dread lake,
With its dark ledge of barren stone.
Seems that primeval earthquake’s sway
Hath rent a strange and shattered way
Through the rude bosom of the hill;
And that each naked precipice,
Sable ravine, and dark abyss,
Tells of the outrage still.
The wildest glen but this can show
Some touch of Nature’s genial glow;
On high Benmore green mosses grow,
And heath-bells bud in deep Glencroe,
And copse on Cruchan-Ben;
But here,—above, around, below,
On mountain or in glen,—
Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower,
Nor ought of vegetative power,
The weary eye may ken.
For all is rocks at random thrown,
Black waves, bare crags, and banks of stone,
As if were here denied
The summer sun, the spring’s sweet dew,
That clothe with many a varied hue
The bleakest mountain-side.
The evening mists, with ceaseless change,
Now clothed the mountains’ lofty range,
Now left their foreheads bare,
And round the skirts their mantle furled,
Or on the sable waters curled,
Or on the eddying breezes whirled,
Dispersed in middle air.
And oft, condensed, at once they lower,
When, brief and fierce, the mountain shower
Pours like a torrent down.
[Illustration: _Mountains in Mist—Skye._]
If the rain added to the picturesqueness of the scene, it did not add
to the comfort of the visitors, most of whom returned to the ship
drenched from head to foot. But their spirits were not damped, whatever
their bodies were: for all were in the greatest good humour. Some
one, probably a man, expressed the wish that the mist were away. Some
one else, probably a woman, suggested that it would not be _missed_
if it were away. Such ‘Coruiskations’ of wit were not inappropriate
to the occasion, though they may have been to the scene. They helped
at all events to keep up the spirits of the party. The refreshments
distributed on the return to the ‘Dunottar Castle’ had a similar effect.
[Illustration:
_Detached Rocks—Coast of Skye._]
The anchor was then weighed, and we steamed round the west and north
coasts of Skye, the ‘Iolanthe’ going in the opposite direction through
the Sound of Sleat to Portree, where we were to meet, and to anchor for
the night. The effects of the rain were seen in a tremendous increase
in the waterfalls that precipitate themselves into the Sound of Soa
from the steep sides of the mountains. The cataracts were indeed
magnificent, and every one felt that the wild weather had not been
without its compensations.
To tell the truth, however, the scenery had to be taken very much for
granted. One or two picturesque bits of rocky coast were all that
could be seen. ‘M‘Leod’s Maidens’ were ‘children of the Mist.’ Dunvegan
Castle was nowhere. Duntulm was invisible. The bold Quiraing, and
the Old Man of Storr, and Prince Charlie’s Cave, were held as seen;
and when we anchored in the evening in the Sound of Raasay, opposite
Portree, we might have been anywhere.
These untoward conditions, however, did not interfere with our
enjoyment of the good things provided for us on board, or of the
adjournment to the smoking-room at a later hour, when bad jokes and
good stories were equally enjoyed, and when some wonderful card tricks
were performed by our own Wizard of the North, who proved, however,
mere potter’s clay in the cool hands of Captain Webster.
[Illustration: _Near Strome Ferry._]
VI
WILD LOCH ALSH AND DARK LOCH DUICH
[Illustration: _Outside of Portree Bay—Sunrise._]
The morning of Thursday brought a welcome change. The day opened
grandly, and the good weather which then set in blessed us during the
remainder of the cruise. Those who rose early, of whom our Special
Artist was one, were rewarded with a splendid view of the hills behind
Portree, and of the bay and harbour. We started soon after breakfast
in the ‘Iolanthe’ for Strome Ferry, where several members of the party
were to leave us, and where others were to take their places, while all
eagerly awaited letters and telegrams.
[Illustration: _Scalpa Island—Skye._]
[Illustration: _Whale blowing—off Skye._]
The sail across the Inner Sound was extremely pleasant and
exhilarating. Loch Sligachan slept in peace. Scuirna-gillean and Blaven
still wore their nightcaps. The island of Scalpa was a blaze of rich
colour, heightened by the white sails of a passing yacht. The Islands
of Longa and Pabba were emeralds set in a blue sea. Broadford was a
picture of self-contained repose. Off Pabba, two large whales—probably
truants from the school, a thousand strong, lately reported from the
Shetland seas—appeared ever and anon to plough the surface of the
water, and one of our photographers succeeded in catching them (in her
camera) in the very act of blowing clouds of spray into the air.
[Illustration: _Loch Carron—from Strome Ferry._]
[Illustration: _Head of Loch Carron—from Strome Ferry._]
At the entrance to Loch Carron, the parallel beaches on opposite
sides of the loch were mistaken by not a few on board for railway
embankments. Like the parallel beaches of Glen Roy and the other
valleys of Lochaber, they are obviously old moraines, but that does not
make them less interesting; rather more so. Unfortunately, we reached
Strome Ferry pier just in time to see the eleven o’clock train steam
out of the station, and meander along the coast of the Loch. It was
rather aggravating, no doubt; but everything comes to him who waits;
and our disappointed friends, who wished to go southward, were able to
enjoy a drive over the crest of the promontory to Balmacarra, and to
return in time for the two o’clock train.
[Illustration: _Misty Morning—Loch Carron._]
[Illustration: _The Coolins—The ‘Dunottar Castle.’_]
Loch Carron is a very beautiful sea. It cannot compare in grandeur
or boldness with Loch Alsh or Loch Hourn. Its beauty is of a softer
type, and a simpler character; but its charms are not less. The
navigable entrance to it is narrow, owing to treacherous rocks; and
the tide flows through the passage with tremendous force and speed.
We pass on the one shore the ruins of Strome Castle, and on the other
the handsome residence of Duncraig, and the fishing village of
Plockton—a collection of weatherbeaten huts, but prettily situated on
an outstanding promontory. As we emerge from the Loch, we have a very
grand view of the Coolins, with the ‘Dunottar Castle’ lying under their
shadow, and of the islands of Scalpa and Raasay—the latter crowned
with a curious little table-mountain over which the Old Man of Storr is
distinctly visible.
[Illustration: _Kyle Akin._]
Later in the day, and still on board the ‘Iolanthe,’ we steamed through
the narrow passage of Kyle Akin (between Skye and the mainland) into
Loch Alsh. The mouth of the loch is intersected by reefs and rocks,
on the crest of one of which is the ruin of Castle Maoil. Near it,
on the right hand, is the pretty village of Kyle Akin, built round a
crescent-shaped bay with lovely sands. One would like to pause at such
a charming spot, or to visit Balmacarra, peaceful and sweet-looking,
or to inspect more closely the monument, not far off, erected by Sir
Roderick Murchison to the memory of one of his ancestors who heroically
collected the rents of the proscribed Earl of Seaforth after the ’45;
but we have to content ourselves with distant views, in the meantime at
least.
[Illustration: _Castle Maoil—near Kyle Akin._]
[Illustration: _In Loch Alsh—Skye in the distance._]
The constant changes in the character of the scenery of Loch Alsh
are perplexing. We think we have reached the head of the loch, when,
suddenly, a new channel opens up in the apparently landlocked course.
When King Haco of Norway found his way into this inland loch, as he did
on his northward voyage after his defeat at Largs, he might very well
have imagined himself to have been caught in one of his native fiords,
so tortuous is the course and so difficult is the navigation.
[Illustration: _Eilean Donan Castle—Loch Duich._]
[Illustration: _Entrance to Loch Duich._]
At the head of the loch, we approach the ruin of Eilean Donan Castle,
which stands at the junction of three lochs—Loch Alsh, Loch Long,
and Loch Duich. The castle, built on a detached island, must in olden
times have been a place of strength; but the story goes that it was
demolished by the guns of Cromwell. Passing the Castle on the left,
we enter Loch Duich, which, though an arm of the sea, has all the
appearance of a fresh-water lake, so smooth is its surface, and so soft
and fertile are its banks. It attains its greatest beauty near the
mansion-house of Inverinate and the village of Kintail, in the midst of
rich woods on its northern shore. The prevailing green tints gleam out
in the fitful sunshine with a richness and variety that are enchanting.
At its head, the loch is closed in by a magnificent group of pyramidal
mountains—Ben Attow, Scour Ouran, Ben Mhor, and the Saddle—all rising
to a height of upwards of 3300 feet, and separated by well-defined and
gloomy valleys.
[Illustration: _Head of Loch Duich._]
The return voyage in the evening was very fine. As we emerged from Loch
Alsh and crossed Loch Carron, we had again a grand view of the Coolins,
cloud-capped and solemn, and traversed by the axled rays of the setting
sun. We steamed in the direction of Loch Kishorn, a northerly arm
of Loch Carron, where the ‘Dunottar Castle’ awaited us, and where we
anchored for the night.
[Illustration: _The Coolins—from Loch Alsh._]