2010 Regatta - Day 1

The West Ardnamurchan Regatta is one of the area's historic annual events, one which died but was resurrected in the 60s by the small group of enthusiasts which still runs it. But most people think that "The Regatta" happens on Friday. It doesn't. The most important part of it takes place today, Thursday, when the yachts have their outing. Or, at least, I thought it was an 'outing' until after I'd volunteered to help crew one of the boats, when I was told that there were actually three races, one a warm-up in the morning, the second the 'real thing' in the afternoon, followed by yet another race tomorrow morning, before the people with lesser breeds of boats, such as kayaks and power boats, were allowed their go.

Briefing took place at ten, after which everyone was quite clear as to what they needed to do. The race was due to start at exactly 11, then 11.10, then - whenever the blue peter was dropped in front of Alasdair Connell's house.

It was a beautiful day for sailing, light winds which were variable enough to offer some excitement, and eight boats to provide competition, along with several hundred others which were taking part in the West Highland Week events out of Tobermory. The morning's course was a short one, with a buoy below Ormsaigbeg and another off Glas Eilean, but the afternoon's race - the 'real thing' - included another buoy just to the west of Ardmore Point beacon.

Both races went extremely smoothly except that the boat in which I was employed as ballast rammed another which cut across our bow just at the start of the second race. I was also somewhat concerned at the way the Ronja Pioneer seemed to bear down on us. "Don't worry," the Admiral in charge of my boat assured me, "Steam gives way to sail." It didn't. It just happened to miss us.

The boat I was in did extremely well, coming in sixth out of eight in the 'real thing'. However, we were most disappointed to learn that both races had been counted and, worse, that there was a handicap system which meant that we were relegated to last place - behind the boat which rammed us.

Nevertheless, it was a splendid day, the races run in very good spirits and the organisation impeccable.

Shipping News

This superb photograph - for which many thanks to Calum MacPhail - shows the Crown Princess passing close to the Ormsaigbeg cliffs on 31st July. Built in 2006, with a length of almost 300 metres and weighing in at 113,000 tonnes, this is a big cruise ship by any standards. Her destination was Reykjavik.

An even newer ship is the Vestnes. Delivered by Yantai Raffles shipyard to Jebsons Management January 2010, she's a self-loading bulk carrier but, compared to the Yeoman Bontrup, she's a third of the size, with a cargo capacity of 30,000 tonnes.

Those of you who are close followers of the Diary will know that the spectacular photographs of the Yeoman Bontrup on fire at Glensanda, published early in July, were suddenly removed. They are back again. See them here.

Kilchoan Sunshine

I don't get many comments on the Diary's entries - so few, in fact, that if it weren't for the 'Flag Counter' which purports to keep a log of everyone that visits this site, I might start to worry that I'm doing electronically what I'm quite accustomed to doing vocally - talking to myself.

But today I received a very welcome comment on Sunday's entry, from a visitor to Kilchoan from that lovely county of Norfolk, the home of my paternal ancestors, seafarers who, when they weren't pillaging ships which had wrecked themselves on the Caister coast, were up here off the west coast of Scotland stealing the local herring.

The visitor describes how he saw a strange light in the sky. He was so excited he took news of his sighting down to the Kilchoan Hotel, where someone told him it might have been the sun. It can't have been anyone local, because, as far as Kilchoan is concerned, there's nothing strange about sunshine - we always have plenty of sunshine here.

It comes in two varieties: sunny sunshine and Kilchoan sunshine. We have rather more of the Kilchoan type than the more normal - to Norfolk - type, but it's just as nice. It may be a bit wet, it does have a habit of being accompanied by rather strong winds, and the sky does have a nasty habit of being grey when we're enjoying it, but it's sunshine.

So Kilchoan can probably boast a sunshine record to rival that of the central Sahara or the Atacama Desert - getting on for 100%. And when you consider that, because we are much further north than Norfolk, in summer we get almost 24 hours of daylight, we probably get almost twice as much summer sunshine as those more dismal places in southern England.

An Up-Side-Down Wall

There's something odd about this wall. See if you can spot it. I couldn't - not until someone who knows far more about the history of West Ardnamurchan than I do pointed it out.

There are many other similar walls across West Ardnamurchan. This one is at Swordle Farm, and it runs between a field and the Ockle road. I wouldn't have noticed anything unusual about it had a I not had a conversation with Donald Houston, who runs Ardnamurchan Estate, a few hours earlier. The wall is, as Donald put it, 'upside down'.

We were talking about the Clearances, and he was saying that map evidence from the early 19th century suggests that the Swordle area may have supported upwards of a thousand residents - that is, it was grossly overpopulated. Yet there is very little sign, on the ground, of all the houses they must have lived in, many of which would have been built of blocks of local stone.

Look at the photograph again and you can see that stone. The wall is clearly in two layers. The original, lower part of the wall had been built before the Clearances, of smaller stones, but, when the then owner came to get rid of all the empty houses, he used their - larger - stones to raise the height of the wall to help keep in the newly-introduced sheep.

Talking of keeping animals in their place, this Highlander was taking a walk down the road towards the Kilchoan House Hotel this morning, probably looking for a beer.

Two Cleared Villages

We went out this morning looking for two villages which were destroyed in the years around 1828, when Sir James Riddell owned Ardnamurchan Estate and wanted the land cleared of humans to make way for sheep. Both lie on the western flanks of Ben Hiant's foothill, Beinn na h-Urchrach. The first, Coire Mhulinn (above), is close to the sea, a spot so forgotten that it is no longer marked on OS maps. The village was tiny - the remains of only four buildings can be found - but with wonderful views westwards across Mingary Castle to the northern approach of the Sound of Mull. All that is visible are the shattered walls of the enclosures and the outlines of the houses, each about the size of a modern, single garage.

The second, Skinid, lies just to the east of Caim and is marked on the current maps, though the 1:25,000 map is a little imaginative, giving the village some eight buildings while we could only find traces of four. The village stood on the old road to Kilchoan which cuts across the north side of Ben Hiant and can still be walked today.

On our way back to the car we almost trod on this slow worm. Not as exciting as Alasdair's adders, but a great deal more friendly.

As we drove home a pterodactyl wheeled over Ormsaigbeg. It was only as we came closer that we recognised this heron. The local buzzards are busy feeding a chick at the moment, a horrible child which sits in trees just below the common grazings and screams for food all day, but the weary parents left their task to fly up and see the heron off.