"Murdo's son was going in the same smack with herrings from Loch Broom to sell them. After coming round the Mull of Kintyre he anchored at Crinan for the night. There was lying there a lugger full of gin and brandy; she had been captured near Cape Wrath by a government cutter; the crew had been put ashore at Cape Wrath. Six men of the cutter's crew were bringing the lugger to deliver her at Greenock. She came alongside Murdo's son at Crinan, as she was going south and he coming north. Murdo's son asked them, 'What craft is that?' They told him it was a smuggler they had caught at Cape Wrath. 'Surely you have plenty drink on board,' says he. 'Oh, yes,' they said, 'she is choke full.' Says he, 'You had better all of you come over and see if the stuff I have is better than what you have got.' So they came over, all hands, to his smack. He tried the jar he had, and made them all drunk. They could not leave his cabin. When they were in this state he and his crew went to the lugger, took possession of her, and set sail, leaving her drunken crew in his own smack. Murdo's son came to Ullapool with the lugger, and when he had taken the cargo out of her he set fire to her and destroyed her. A son of Murdo's son was married to Mrs Mackenzie of Kernsary before Mr Mackenzie married her, and had two sons, both now dead, and buried in Cil-lean, in Strath Garve.
"Donald Morrison, of Drumchork, was a grandson of Murdo's son and Lord Breadalbane's daughter. He went to see the Lord Breadalbane of his day, a descendant of the lord whose daughter was married to Murdo's son. Lord Breadalbane gave Donald Morrison three hundred pounds when he went to the castle. Rorie Morrison also went to see Lord Breadalbane, but he did not get anything. Donald was a very fine, tall, handsome man, and looked grand in his kilt and plaid; there was no one like him in the country, so good-looking and so well shaped for the kilt!"
Anecdote of Sir Hector Mackenzie.
"The law that a name should be put on every vessel brings to my mind an anecdote of Sir Hector Mackenzie of Gairloch. Macleod of Raasay had a boat that had no name on her when the law was made requiring names. So the boat was taken from him, and he was cited to a court at Inverness, that he might be fined for not putting a name on the boat. When Sir Hector heard of this he went to the court. Macleod was there; the judge told him he was fined so much for not having the boat named. Sir Hector said, 'Macleod's boat is the coach to his house, and he can never get home without it, and if you are going to fine him for not having his boat named, you must put a name on your own coach when you go out.' Said the judge, 'If that be the case he can go home.' Thus Macleod got clear."
Mackenzie Kernsary and my Grandfather.
"I can remember Mr and Mrs Mackenzie of Kernsary. They lived in the house where I now live. Rorie, as Mackenzie Kernsary was called, was a strange eccentric man; he died a good while before his wife, and was buried in the chapel in the Inverewe burial-ground close by. They had only one son, Sandy, and it was he who built the house at Inveran; he was married to a daughter of the Rev. Roderick Morison, minister of Kintail, the best-looking woman in the north of Scotland at that time; her nephew is the present minister of Kintail. Sandy had three sons and three daughters. One son became Established Church minister at Moy; one daughter married Mr Mactavish, a lawyer in Inverness; another daughter married one Cameron, a farmer; and another son was at sea. My grandfather, John Mackenzie, was a cattle drover; he was always going through the country buying cattle; an old Hielan'man, with his blue bonnet and old Hielan' coat. He bought cattle between Poolewe and Little Loch Broom. At times he bought a large number. One time he went to the Isle of Gruinard and bought a fat grey cow from one Duncan Macgregor there. He sent a man on with the drove to Gairloch to go to the market, and stopped behind himself that day. When the cows were passing Londubh, Mackenzie Kernsary was out on the brae; he saw the cattle passing, and he asked the man with them to whom did they belong. The man replied, 'To John Mackenzie, the drover.' 'Oh!' says he, 'they could not belong to a better man. You'll turn that grey cow up here till I kill her for Mrs Mackenzie.' 'No,' says the herd, 'that'll no be the case; we'll know which is the best man first.' 'That tells you that the cow will be mine,' says Kernsary. And so it was; Mackenzie took the cow from him, drove her to the byre, got the axe, and killed her in a minute. He went in and told Mary his wife to send a man to bleed the cow before it would get cold. So Mary said, 'What cow is it?' 'Never mind,' says he, 'you'll know that before Saturday.' And so she did. The old drover himself came by next day. Mrs Mackenzie saw him passing, and called him up. She took him into the house and gave him a glass of mountain dew. Then she told him what her husband did yesterday on a grey cow of his, and that she was going to pay him. She asked him what was the value of the cow. He replied, 'Nothing but what I paid for it;' and she paid him."
The Whale in Loch Ewe.
"In the year 1809 Loch Ewe was the most famous loch known for haddock. Boats came even from the east coast, from Nairn and Avoch; indeed until the following occurrence Loch Ewe was unrivalled in the north of Scotland for its haddock fishing.
"It was a beautiful day, and all the boats were fishing on the south-west side of Isle Ewe opposite Inverasdale. A new boat was put off the stocks at Mellon Charles, and was taken out that day for the first time. Seven men went out in her, viz., Duncan Mackenzie, Ronald Mackenzie, Rorie Maclean, Murdo Mackenzie, Donald Maclennan, John Chisholm, and Hector Macrae, all Mellon men. They went to the back of Sgeir an Fharaig, much further out towards the open than the other boats. It was so calm the oars were laid across the boat. Suddenly they saw a whale coming in from the ocean making straight at them. One of the men suggested they had better put the oars straight and pull out of her way. And this they did; but as they worked to one side, the whale cut across straight after them, and soon came up with them. She struck the boat in the bow, and made a crack about a yard long in the second plank above the keel. Six oars were then manned, and, with one man keeping his coat to the crack, they rowed for their lives; but as the crack was in the bow, the water forced itself in notwithstanding the efforts of the man with his coat. They were making for the nearest land, when the boat filled. When Ronald, who had been a soldier, saw this, he stripped and jumped overboard to swim for it. He swam some distance when the whale struck him below; so then he turned back to the water-logged boat. When he reached the boat, three of the men had been drowned, viz., Murdo Mackenzie, Donald Maclennan, and John Chisholm. After that the whale disappeared, or at least ceased to molest them. It was a small whale.
"A man at Mellon Charles had noticed the incident; he ran through the township to procure help; but no boat was to be found, and there were only women and children at home. He went as far as Drumchork; there an old boat was found, that had been turned keel up for two years. Seven men were found to attempt an expedition for the rescue of the wrecked fishermen. They had only one oar, and on the other side of the boat worked bits of board, whilst two of the men were employed baling. In this way they reached the water-logged boat, and rescued the four survivors of its crew. Ever since this fatal occurrence it has been the popular belief in the country that whales attack new boats or newly-tarred boats. When the boat was got ashore a large piece of the whale's skin was found in the crack in the bow."