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

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.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

From Leith Roads

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Scarba and the Isles—from Mull.

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.

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.

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.

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.

View of Oban and Bay.

Oban Pier.

IV

IN THE SOUND OF MULL

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Loch Sunart.

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.

Mist Rainbow on Ardnamurchan—off Tobermory Lighthouse.

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!’

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.

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.

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.

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.

The ‘Iolanthe’ off Eigg and Rum.

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.

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.

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.

Near Strome Ferry.

VI

WILD LOCH ALSH AND DARK LOCH DUICH

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.

Scalpa Island—Skye.

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.

Loch Carron—from Strome Ferry.

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.

Misty Morning—Loch Carron.

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.

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.

Castle Maoil—near Kyle Akin.

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.

Eilean Donan Castle—Loch Duich.

Entrance to Loch Duich.