Seil Island

The day dawned bright and clear..... that's how all stories like this should begin: this one doesn't. Truth to tell the day was, as we would say in Scots 'gie driech'. During the night a har had rolled down the sound of Kerrera, and visibility sea ward was poor, the har had rolled up the hills which surrounded our caravan and gave the peculiar effect of obliterating just the middle parts form view. David and I looked at one another, weather wise it had been a bloody awful holiday so far. Our plans had been changed so many times we were just grateful to know where we were. It had been our intention to camp for a week, but the weather forecast had put David right off. We had spent two nights with his parents at their home in Lochgilphead, then travelled down Kintyre to Campbeltown and camped for one night at Machrihanish. I am glad I did this because it means I never have to do it again. I always thought Campbeltown would be the very essence of a Scottish town, when in fact large parts of it resembled a certain Scottish new town... ( what is called?... Cumbernauld) Now we were safely ensconced in a static caravan just outside Oban. Now the views from here were truly spectacular... if the weather permitted them to be viewed. However having been here before I have pictures already.

We were desperately looking forward to our trip on a boat but feared it might be cancelled due to the poor weather. We left Oban on the road to Lochgilphead, our destination was a place called seil Island, and all that stood between us and it was Œthe pond'. Bridges linking Scotland to various isles exists but only one actually spans a stretch of water known world wide as The Atlantic Ocean. Local residents utilise this fact ruthlessly in the fight to bring the tourist ££. Still it is bonnie. The bridge is of the old humped back variety and certainly not wide enough for two cars at a time, which makes it pretty old. When we first crossed it the tide was out and the water beneath it was no more than a burn. I parked the car on the seil side and took some photographs of it raining in mainland Scotland... it wasn't however raining on my side of the Atlantic! I have difficulty describing the countryside around as the road was too perilous. It was one o yon single track roads, some of the time and at others it was wide enough for two.... unfortunately there was no signs warning you you were switching from one to the other. Most confusing.

The village of Easdale was a pretty wee place, very much still part of a previous century.The dikes were all made of slate, for this was one of the slate islands, so called because they quarried slate up until the first world war. The houses were whitewashed and in long low rows. The guttering on the roof emptied down roan pipes into barrels outside the front door. And the street lamps were far too ornate for this century.

Excitedly David and I donned our waterproofs and mandatory life jackets. We were to board a 9 meter Rigid Inflatable Boat ( no that's what they are called) of the type used by the RNLI in rescues, this thing apparently travelled at 45 mph. We had met people coming off of the sailing before ours, and they had said it was cold wet and miserable, and that it was raining. David was excited, the way men get when there is power under the hood, and I was a little apprehensive... this could be a white knuckle ride. I have to say the style of seating, like a motor bike, was a fabulous reassurance, what wasn't was that David and I failed to find seating together and that took a bit of the shine off this trip.

The boat took slowly out of the harbour and then at speed skytin across the water which now sparkles reflecting the sun, which had now decided to make himself known. We skyted right past Luing and our first stop was the Isle of Flada, with its unmanned lighthouse, all the domestic buildings were still in place and although deserted looked habitual. Here we were told the sad tail of a ship wreck, though truth to tell I was just to entranced with the scenery and the sensation of being on the water again to listen. All off a sudden I just relaxed, completely. Suddenly there was complete contentment, the sun, the sea and the tiny ( and not so tiny) islands dotted about. Suddenly I was totally and completely in the now and there was nothing else.

Not to sure where we saw our first seal, but they basked on rocks or swam with their pups all over the place. The sea birds were incredible and it was nice to have an expert point out the different between shags, guillemots, kittewakes and oyster catchers.... the herons stood out on their own. We passed down the mainland side of Scarba. Scarba is a beautiful Island, totally uninhabited and one of the very few off the west coast which has trees growing, not having been planted. Although uninhabited there was a four wheel drive on the quay side, our guide told us it hadn't moved for a year. Just before we rounded the Gulf of Corryvreckan, high on the Scarba hillside we spotted a group of about six stags, complete with antlers.

The tide was finishing so the Corryvreckan was calm, that this could happen to the worlds third largest whirl pool came as a bit of a surprise. The story goes that a Viking Prince anchored in he gulf between Scarba and Jura. He fell in love with a Jura maiden but her daddy was not for letting her go. He challenged the Prince to tie his ship up for one whole night, and he had three nights to try. The first night he used rope... it broke away. On the second night he used iron, but again the currents were too strong, and the ship broke away. On the third night the Prince remembered a story he had heard. He had heard that rope made from maidens hair, but the maiden must have a heart that was true, and this was the strongest possible rope. Eagerly the Prince bought the tresses of three of Jura's maidens, each swearing her heart was true to her love. That night the rope of hair failed to hold, and in the morning the Prince if farewell to his Jura maid. Her father laughed, you see he knew that one of the Jura maidens had not been true to her love. The Prince was called Prince Corryvreckan. I think we were a little disappointed the whirl pools were not as active as we imagined, then again we were a wee bit relieved too. It was fascinating to watch the little whirls form on every side of the boat, and intriguing to wonder what it would be like when the tide was full.

As we headed around the other side of Scarba and back towards the deserted Belnahua Island. The engine started making funny noises. The guide made an announcement... the engine had failed.. I didn't care.... but we were not to worry the boat had two. At that David gave a shout from the front of the boat, high on the Scarba hillside he had seen a bird, a big bird, an enormous big bird. 12 pairs of binoculars trained in on it, as it came into land on a rock. The eagle had landed, it was indeed a golden eagle. As we watched another one crossed its path.

The second engine started and we skyted off again though not as fast as before, only to have to stop a few minutes later as yet again David gave a shout... a pod of porpoise were racing in the opposite direction of off our port side. It had been a fantastic outing. I tried hard not to hope the second engine would break down and we would have to wait until we were rescued. The sailing had been 2hrs long ( actually longer because of the slow return home) The sun had shone ( the first that week) we had seen so much wild life. It had been exciting and safe. What more could anyone hope for? A fish supper in Oban watching the sun set over Mull.

If you happen to be in or coming to Scotland I heartily recommend this excursion with Sea.fari Adventures

My old guest buik

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