Always for me the last two mentioned were very near to the top of the list, and one cruise to Ardmore with a family party of five was quite memorable. Leaving Crinan the weather was perfect, and with a light westerly breeze Ailsa, eldest daughter of the family and all of seven years (roughly), competently took the tiller for a spell reaching down the Sound of Jura. I shouldn’t have been surprised as her mother is a Shetlander. She took a keen interest in passing sea-birds, so I got her to make a list and identify each one as we coasted along. At the end of the day I asked her what the score was. “Fourteen, if you count goats and jellyfish!” she told me.

Entering the Ardmore Island environment is tricky, with islets and rocks all over the place, but nosing your way in gently you can find lovely wee corners, sheltered from wind and sea in any direction. The adult seals are quite confiding, and the pups leap like salmon around the boat. Ducks and cormorants perch or cruise about contentedly, and very often a herd of fallow deer graze round the shore. And on this occasion, we had just dropped anchor close up to a rock and were letting Harmony drop back on her chain when an otter climbed on to the rock with a big fish and chewed away at it, ignoring us completely. Beautiful, just, and I don’t think Plod nan Sgeirean ever disappointed anybody. As a bonus, Kildalton Cross is within walking/scrambling distance; approaching it from the sea is somehow more of an adventure, and much more satisfying than driving to it by road.

On this particular trip we went onwards the next day, through the Sound of Islay to West Loch Tarbert, Jura, and the kids –and their parents- were gobsmacked by that wild and wonderful corner of Jura, with it’s spectacular raised beaches, and waterfalls (one in particular which we used to refer to as the shower room!) and deer, and goats that made Billy Goat Gruff look like a cissy. Curiously, and a little sadly, last year Ailsa –now married- and her husband spent a few days on Jura expressly so that she could show him the places that so bewitched her as a child (especially West Loch Tarbert, Jura) but they were barred ‘because of the shooters’; I felt her disappointment when she told me.

The West Loch is wide, and open, narrowing gradually as it cuts inland to almost cut Jura in two, and from it’s head it is only about a mile overland before you hit the east shore. It is full of nooks and bays, and intriguing corners to anchor in; and quite nasty rocks, but Lord Astor many years ago had several sets of leading marks built on land which lead you all the way in through both sets of narrows, or ‘doors’. Just inside the second narrows, is a sublime little bay that I love, which is totally sheltered from anything the sea can throw at you, and you can sleep as soundly as in bed at home. The bottom is soft mud which stinks a bit, and that got me once when we were setting off in the morning, for after weighing the anchor Harmony refused to move, perfectly upright but her keel lovingly clasped by the mud, and the crew said what next? So I suggested morning coffee, and by the time we had enjoyed that the rising tide persuaded the bottom to let us go, and off we went.

One truly memorable happening in that corner, was when we had just arrived and anchored with some friends, and Alison announced that “This is our thirtieth wedding anniversary!” and produced a card for Eric; and a bottle of champagne. So in warm sunshine we sat in the cockpit and toasted them, and Alison, a keen bird-watcher said “It’s a pity there are no birds to see here”, at which I pointed to the cliff at the narrows and said a pair of peregrine falcons lived there: at this the two birds took of and circled above us, on cue. Then a pair of hen harriers suddenly appeared a couple of hundred feet above them, also circling, the male especially spectacular in his black and white livery. “It just can’t get any better than this!” said Alison, leaning back and absorbing the scene. “It just has, look!” I said, as two golden eagles drifted into sight, and joined the circling column a few hundred feet higher. So we felt we had to toast the birds as well, which we did, with a handy bottle of liquid Chilean sunshine. A memorable encounter, in one of my favourite anchorages: over in a few short moments, but never forgotten.

Probably the most exciting anchorage to visit on the two islands is ‘The bay of the glen of pigs’ in the Corryvreckan: only to be entered at slack water, or with a slight ebb tide running against you. And if the flood tide is running you don’t come out until it’s over! But to sit quietly and calmly at anchor, by an open beach of white sand, surrounded by deer-populated hills and goat- populated cliffs, and see and hear the flood tide going past like a train, is quite spectacular. We would spend the night there occasionally, if next morning the tidal state let you out at a time to go where and when it suited you, but if not it was always a coveted stop by charterers. Once we had a short break there and watched the Waverley pass through westwards, towards Iona.

Undoubtedly, the west coast of Scotland to me is the best sailing area in the world, with its islands, and sounds, and hundreds of anchorages, each with it’s own personality, and delights peculiar to itself. If I was ever pressed on my favourite anchorage anywhere in the Western Isles I would never expressly name one. There are literally dozens of desirable corners around where I loved to drop the hook but I could never leave West Loch Tarbert, Jura out. Is that an answer?

Back to Colonsay now. Scalasaig is a wee, albeit the largest settlement, spread over quite a large area and has, besides a hotel, brewery, and a beautiful church an excellent shop annex post office annex petrol station. The reason why I mention this shop is that when you’re out and about for a day on Colonsay you might want to stock up first because this is in fact the only shop on the island. If you’re a day tripper from Islay you’ll have about six hours to discover the island before you have to return to Scalasaig for the return ferry.

If you’re a first time visitor of Colonsay and arrive at Scalasaig either with a car of bike you’re probably doing the circular road which starts and ends in Scalasaig. The best known attractions on Colonsay are Kiloran Bay in the north-west of the island, Colonsay House and Gardens in the centre of the island, the House of Lochar bookshop in the west not far from the golf course/landing strip and Oronsay with it’s priory in the south. The island is also an excellent place to to discover by foot

Of course there are other means of visiting Colonsay besides a day trip to the island from Islay. The island has direct ferry and air services with Oban. Colonsay has some excellent facilities such as b&b’s, guesthouses, a hotel and a good selection of self catering cottages which makes the island a perfect destination for a longer stay. For more information you can visit the Colonsay page on this site or the Colonsay community website

High Cross Oronsay Priory

On the ferry trip out, most of us had a good CalMac breakfast, and some of us checked our maps and got ourselves orientated. It wasn’t long until we were ashore on Scalasaig pier in Colonsay. As the Colonsay minibus wasn’t available, some of the walk leaders with vehicles gave lifts for the 3.5 miles to the road-end, where the ford across The Strand to Oronsay starts. This is as far as vehicles are allowed. Others of the party walked some or all of the way from Scalasaig to the ford. We all met at the road-end, where James How gave a short talk about Oronsay, as did Crystal, the current RSPB warden on Oronsay.

We all set off across the ford with the tide well out, so although the walking was splashy crossing the sand it wasn’t really wet. ‘Ashore’ on Oronsay, we picked up the track and walked the 1.5 miles past a hill with an Iron Age dun (hill fort) and other archaeological sites, on to the Oronsay farm steading and the nearby ruined Priory. James told us that there are forty-seven recorded archaeological sites on Oronsay, so there is plenty of interest besides birds and botany on this small island. On reaching the Priory in brilliant warm sunshine, we all enjoyed sitting out on the lawn and munching packed lunches. While we sat, Crystal, the RSPB Oronsay warden, gave us a talk about land and farm management for wildlife on Oronsay. The RSPB manages the whole of the island of Oronsay, which is owned by an American.

With about an hour left before the tide would turn, most of us spent this time looking around the substantial Priory ruins. There are high walls remaining, with doorways, steps and windows between the several small ‘rooms’. One room contains a small cloister, and one building has been roofed and houses several grave slabs fixed against the inside walls, kept undercover to protect them from weathering. Notes were provided, explaining the history of those whose graves they had covered, and giving a short explanation of the carvings.

James had advised that we all must meet at the ford at 3pm to be sure of getting everybody back across to Colonsay before the tide began to flow again. The ford is very flat and sandy with a bit of track along part of the shoreline, and the tide would come in quickly to cover the sands. As there were eighty-year-olds and six-year-olds amongst the ninety or so of us in the party, it was important to leave time for everyone to cross safely. So we all gathered and walked back to Colonsay, enjoying the sunshine and looking forward to a cup of tea in Scalasaig. All boarded the ferry back to Islay, most of us tucked into fish suppers or other meals on board, and all agreed that we’d really had a thoroughly ‘grand day out’. Thanks to Ian Brooks, James How and everyone who helped to give us a most pleasant and interesting day in Colonsay and Oronsay.

Yacht at Kiloran Bay Colonsay

Gareth: North-west seven to severe gale nine, backing south-west five to six. Rough or very rough.” The forecast on the television in our cabin spoke volumes: for once, the crew of the Hebridean Princess would not be pushing the boat out for us. The sea was too rough to go ashore by motor launch for a visit to one of Islay’s famous distilleries. Guests wouldn’t have been digesting their breakfast, they’d have been wearing it. Not that the 30 or so passengers aboard appeared to mind. If you’re going to cruise the Inner Hebrides in early November you have to expect a few alterations to your schedule. And there can be few more pleasant places to be stuck than the Princess, a floating palace of pampering. From the minute you step aboard to be greeted by the chief purser, to the moment when you walk down the gangway for the last time, the officers and crew attend to your every need. When you enter your cabin, a decanter of malt whisky is waiting. Leave your cabin in a mess and it will be tidy when you return, however brief your absence. And there’s no chance of emptying your wine glass at lunch or dinner before a sommelier arrives to top it up. The crew – a mix of British seamen and “hotel” staff who are mostly from the Baltic states – are there to please, and do their job superbly.

The cruise started from Oban on a dreich Wednesday that had never managed to get properly light. When we visited Torosay Castle on Mull, we walked back instead of waiting for the bus. And at Crinan, on the Kintyre peninsula, we borrowed bikes to cycle the length of the canal. We also used the bikes for a round trip of the beautiful island of Colonsay, the visual highlight of a cruise filled with quite stunning scenery. And when the ship moored at Tobermory for a morning’s shopping – not something my partner or I regard as a legitimate leisure activity – the first officer was happy to take us for a spin round the bay in the ship’s speedboat. Much of the pleasure on the cruise, though, was simply that – cruising slowly between the coast and the Inner Hebrides, sitting in the lounge or the glassed-in conservatories on each side of the ship, or standing on the open Skye deck at the stern, enjoying the kind of views that compare well with anything on the planet. One passenger who had never seen the west coast kept making exclamations of pleasure at the sight of the landscape.

Some facts about the Hebridean Island Cruises: Hebridean Island Cruises begins its 2010 itinerary on 1 March. Its last sailing begins on 16 November. Prices range from £986 per person up to £11,020, depending on which cruise you opt for, the time of year and the type of cabin. For more details call the company’s Skipton head office on 01756 704704 or visit www.hebridean.co.uk

Duart Castle from the Mull Ferry

Vicky also mentioned something about fish and chips: “The best fish and chips in all of Scotland are served daily from a food caravan on the Tobermory Pier. to convince you have a look here. The site has an interesting article: “The Prince of Wales gave a fish-and-chip van the royal seal of approval as he paid a visit to Scotland yesterday.” They report that, “The Prince tasted fresh scallops from the Fisherman’s Pier chip van in Tobermory, Mull, and declared them “delicious”,” before adding that, “Owners Jeanette Gallagher and Jane MacLean were delighted to serve the royal visitor with some local produce.” According to Vicky The line starts forming a good half hour before they open. Bring your own napkins and plan to eat standing up unless you can find a curb or lobster pot to sit on.

Levels of protection will be targeted according to the needs of each asset. Speaking at Holyrood’s Marine Bill Conference in Edinburgh today, Environment Secretary Richard Lochhead said, ‘The Scottish Marine Bill offers the exciting opportunity to make even more of our historic and cultural heritage which we ignore at our peril. The popularity of shipwreck diving in Orkney and the Sound of Mull means that Scotland can already lay claim to the title of ‘shipwreck diving capital of Europe’. ‘Diving generates millions of pounds for our economy. And thanks to these new measures there is scope to open up a whole new world of hidden treasures for divers.

We are delivering a Bill that will make the most of Scotland’s unique coastal and marine environment without spoiling our most prized treasures.’ Philip Robertson, Historic Scotland’s marine archaeology expert, said, ‘There are thousands of shipwrecks around the coast of Scotland. We also have archaeologicalsites in areas such as Orkney, Shetland and the Western Isles that we think are now underwater due to relative sea-level rise after the last Ice Age. We still have a lot to learn but the signs are that our marine heritage is immensely rich and varied, reflecting Scotland’s historic relationship with the sea. ‘The Scottish Marine Bill will help encourage responsible access to our underwater heritage and the introduction of Marine Conservation Orders will allow us to better protect those sites that need greater attention. For years we have worked closely with the diving community to monitor and protect wrecks and this Bill will make it easier for those diving to get access on a ‘look but don’t touch’ basis. ‘And for those of us who do not dive, new survey and visualisation technology is offering us all a fascinating glimpse of what lies beneath the waves.’

Earra-Ghaidheil, ‘the coast of the Gael’, was where the Gaelic language was first established in Scotland, and the collection begins with an account of the Gaelic of South Argyll by scholar and researcher, George Jones. Concentrating on Jura Gaelic and its differences from Islay Gaelic, Jones provides a detailed linguistic examination and calls for further research to be done while native speakers remain alive, for sadly Jura Gaelic appears to be in terminal decline.

The theme of place-names is continued in papers by Peter Drummond of Glasgow University and Paul Tempan, researcher in the Northern Ireland Place-name Project. They present complementary studies of place-names, the first concentrating on mountain names in Islay and Jura and the second extending the discussion in time and space by tracing ancient Indo-European roots of the word structures, and examining instances of it in Ireland.

Relationships between place-names and history is well illustrated by these papers; but the contribution by Kay Muhr shows how place-names can link to specific historical events. Clan feuds and battles, attested in both scholarly history and local tradition, receive commemoration in names on the map of Ulster, and Muhr’s account of the stories behind those names makes fascinating reading and illustrates the close cultural links uniting islands on either side of the North Channel.

Angus Macmillan’s paper gives a detailed historical study of the gradual emergence of Argyll as a politically-defined territory. The turbulent history of the region and its part in the emergence of the Scottish kingdom under the House of Canmore is illuminated, in a re-assessment of some familiar historical assumptions.

Next, Kenneth MacTaggart uses Robert Bruce’s voyage from Kintyre to Rathlin in 1306 with a MacPhedran as his steersman as the starting point of a lively account of the MacPhedran family’s connection with the Argyll to Ulster ferry. Other traditions relating to the family history are related, and MacTaggart’s paper draws on literature, archaeology, toponymy and historiography for a miscellany of information on the MacPhedran contribution to the history of Argyll.
Brian Lambkin, in the last of the historical articles, investigates a more modern link, this time a tragic one, between Ulster and Islay; the wreck of the emigrant ship ‘Exmouth of Newcastle’ on Islay’s shore in 1847. Lambkin’s article includes contemporary accounts of the wreck but also shows how it survived in memory, quoting the words of the great-grandson of a man who had been on the ship immediately before it sailed. Also quoted is Sara McCaffrey of Donegal, who took part in the ‘Exmouth’ commemmoration in Islay in 2000, and who was believed to be the last living link to the 1847 disaster.

As the current Editor of the Ileach worked closely with author, the late Joe Wiggins, on collating Joe’s memorabilia for the first draft of the ‘Exmouth’ shipwreck booklet, and former ‘Ileach’ editor Dorothy Carmichael did the final edit before publication, it was of interest to read that the scholars’ remarks about the booklet and commemoration in 2000 were very positive. ‘This remains an important reminder that the way such events are remembered may make for better or worse community relations in the present. The memory of Ulster emigration still tends to be set in terms of two separate Protestant and Catholic stories of tbe eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Rather than two separate stories, the window offered by the wreck of the Exmouth shows Catholic and Protestant family stories of emigration from Ulster entangled in history.’

Three papers on major literary figures with Argyll heritage or connections follow. William Livingston (Uilleam MacDhunleibhe) of Islay was one of the great Gaelic poets; Donald Meek argues a case for rating him the very greatest bard of the nineteenth century. Meek claims that Islay was then the very hub of the brilliant poetic and intellectual culture of the Gaidhealtachd, and Livingston emerges as a man of learning and passion, intensely aware of the wealth and antiquity of Gaelic cultural tradition and the social forces which were fundamentally changing the Gaelic world.
Christopher Whyte focuses more measuredly on Livingston’s battle-poem ‘Na Lochlannaich an lle’ (‘The Danes on Islay’), giving detailed analysis of the poet’s technique and use of literary and historical sources, demonstrating the skill and subtlety of Livingston’s writing. Readers may be enticed to further explorations of Gaelic poetry.

Twentieth-century poet George Campbell Hay is discussed by J. Derrick McClure. Though Hay is perhaps best known as a Gaelic poet, his work in Scots is an integral part of the Scots Renaissance. McClure argues that George Campbell Hay’s Scots poetry derives its individuality and distinction from the influence of rhythms and poetic structures of his native Tarbert Gaelic. Hay’s forging links between the Lowland and the Highland sides of Scotland’s culture runs deeper than the well-known fact that he wrote in all three of Scotland’s languages.

Finally, Christopher Small concentrates on another of the twentieth century’s key literary figures. Although not a Scot, George Orwell is associated with Jura through his residence there. Small’s account of Orwell’s last years, during which his novel ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’ was written, notes how Orwell’s appreciation of Scotland was radically altered by his first-hand experience of the country.

These contributing authors make an important contributions to our knowledge and understanding of aspects of Islay and Argyll’s language, place-names, culture, history and literature. The collection is a valuable addition to the literature on the area, and will be of interest to islanders and people of Argyll wishing to delve ‘that bit deeper’ into the history of the area. This book is a tribute to this ‘land that lies westward’; one of the most beautiful, distinctive and fascinating parts of Scotland.

Edited by J. Derrick McClure, John. M. Kirk and Margaret Storrie John Donald/Birlinn Ltd., Edinburgh 2009. 244pp. Pbk. £25. This book can be ordered online at Amazon for £ 23.75

Amazon Product description: “This book is a fascinating collection of new studies by leading scholars on central aspects of the languages, literatures, place-names, culture and history of the Isles of Islay and Jura and along the western seaboard of Argyll. It includes major re-assessments of the nineteenth-century Islay poet William Livingston, and an analysis of the Scots found in the poems of Tarbert poet George Campbell Hay. It describes the Gaelic of Jura and Islay as well as the patterns of place-names. In view of the proximity of these regions to Ulster, there are several fresh accounts of historical, cultural and genealogical exchange and crossover. The book ends with a new appreciation of Orwell’s time on Jura.”

Book review by Susan Campbell, co-author of the Southern Hebrides website.