Muckdate 14: Boats and Some Exciting News
Muck’s history and ongoing relationship with marine transport always makes for an epic tale. As those of you who have been reading the blog since the start will know, it took us a couple of attempts to reach the island in the first place back in January, and we are entirely dependent on Caledonian MacBrayne’s fout-times-weekly Loch Nevis service for delivery of all our comestibles, visitors, and mail. Weather conditions play a hug part in whether or not the service will run, and because the island’s harbour faces south west (which is also the prevailing wind direction as weather systems blow towards the island from the Atlantic) there are days when the boat leaves from Mallaig but cannot make it into Muck. This winter has been quite a calm one (since our arrival we have had only one named storm reach the island when Storm Otto blew in 17 February) but there have still been a few missed boats and the dramas that thereby ensue, so I thought I would share with you a little of the island’s boat-based history, combined with tales from the past weekend involving delays, charters, and left-behind passengers!
First, it is worth remembering that Muck has only been served by state-funded ferry service since 1965. Before that, islanders had to travel under their own steam to the nearby Isle of Eigg to collect mail, provisions, deliveries, and visitors, brought from Mallaig on MacBrayne’s Loch Mor (pictured above, which ran from 1930 - 1964). For decades, the island’s postal address was ‘Isle of Muck, Isle of Eigg’ as that was the nearest delivery point. Loch Mor ran on a Monday and called at Eigg, Rum and Canna before heading out to Lochboisdale on South Uist in the Outer Hebrides. The post office on Eigg was quite a distance from where the Muck boat landed, so the island’s boatmen would also have a two-mile return walk to fetch the mail once they had made the sea journey. Whilst this arrangement was undoubtedly time consuming and, in wild weather, unpleasant and even dangerous, it did lead to a rather special outcome for Muck’s boatman, Charlie MacDonald: he meat his future wife Katie on the mail run. Katie, who was born on South Uist and was a native Gaelic speaker, was the postmistress on Eigg, and the two lived together on Muck after their marriage where they were a vital part of the community: the twice-weekly delivery was sorted on their living room floor and was quite the social occasion for the island.
The first MacBrayne boat to call at Muck was the Loch Arkaig, a converted wooden minesweeper, which began visiting the island on 12 April 1965 and remained in service until 1979 (when she sank in harbour at Mallaig). In the beginning Arkaig arrived on Wednesdays - though when I say ‘arrived’, what actually happened was that the boat laid at anchor off the coast whilst the Muck boatman came out to meet it in the flit boat. Once the little boat waas alongside the ferry (as shown on the left), the bigger boat’s retro-fitted derrick would (quite literally) swing into action, lifting provisions, mail and livestock down into the waiting flit. This was because there was no slipway on Muck and the bigger boats simply couldn’t come in close to the comparatiely shallow harbour. At low tides, even smaller boats struggled to get alongside the little pier and visitors would have to make the final part of the journey by dinghy - or in some cases, carried bodily ashore!
Muck’s main boat throughout most of the twentieth century was Wave, purpose-built at Mallaig on the instructions of Muck’s owner Commaner MacEwen by Henderson’s boatyard. Made from larch and oak, Wave is 36 feet long with a 13-foot hold, capable of carrying around five tonnes of cargo, 15 calves, or about 70 lambs. She cost £1,950 upon completion in 1955 and, for the next sixty-four years, was in near constant use bringing everything and anything to and from the island. As well as meeting the ferry, which happened as many as five times a week during the summer season, Wave also made something in the region of 50 annual trips to the mainland or the Isle of Mull, transporting livestock on several of these runs. She was also used for pleasure trips, taking the MacEwens and other island families to and from meetings, games, and ceilidhs across the Small Isles (and further afield), and on occasion people would sleep aboard her, with a tarpaulin thrown over the top of the hold to keep off the worst of the weather.
Wave with ponies on board
In 2004 a long-term project to build a pier with a proper slipway on the south-west side of Muck was finally completed, signalling the end of Wave’s time as the island flit boat. For the first time, passengers could step onto the island direct from the ferry - though this also means the service can be less reliable, as the Loch Nevis (the boat which has run the Small Isles service since the year 2000) frequently cannot get through the narrow, rocky channel into Port Mor in wild weather. Wave continued to be used for everything else, but by 2019 she was showing her age, with the necessary repairs (she had previously had three new engines and a new wheelhouse in place of the engine house and tiller, as well as the necessarily annual anti-fouling and varnishing) making her an uneconomic option for the island. Her last voyage was a trip to Canna for the Small Isles Games, and now she rests close to the shore at Gallanach (pictured below).
It’s not only the weather which can prevent visitors getting to and from Muck, and this weekend was a case in point. My father-in-law had been visiting for a few days and was due to return on the 12.35 Saturday sailing. As always, we’d been keeping a close eye on the forecast, and though a little rain was due to come in, the wind speed and direction looked promising. But just as the time was approaching for Loch Nevis to leave Mallaig, my phone buzzed. Usually this would signal the arrival of the ship’s manifest, a list of freight sent out just as the boat is leaving to let islanders know if they have a delivery to collect, but today it was a CalMac service update: the Small Isles sailing would be delayed due to crew sickness. No timetable was given, and there was also the possibility that the sailing would be completely cancelled. My father-in-law, Jeff, decided to pack his bags anyway, in the hope that the boat would just be a bit delayed, and we headed down to the cafe for the statutory Saturday coffee and pastries. Just before we left, my phone buzzed again: the ferry would run, but wouldn’t leave Mallaig until 14.00 and, as the service would also be calling at Rum and Eigg, wouldn’t return until 7.40pm, almsot four hours behind schedule.
The Loch Nevis as we had hoped to see her…
Jeff, who had arranged to stay with friends at Onich on his long drive home to Cumbria, called his hosts to cancel plans for a pub dinner: he would now not be with them until 10pm. Whilst we waited for the boat, now scheduled to arrive at 16.45, we went to play in the community hall, but almost as soon as we arrived an email came through from CalMac: the ferry had now been cancelled, but a charter boat would run instead - not for freight or vehicular traffic, but just for passengers. I opened what is probably my nerdiest app, Marine Traffic, to see the outline of MV Larven, a small catamaran that usually servces as the Knoydart ferry, heading our way. The Larven is much faster than the usual CalMac, and would now be arriving at 16.00 before leaving at 16.05. As the boat had now left Mallaig, it seemed almost certain that the serivce would actually go ahead, so Jeff called his hosts back, updated them with his new arrival time, and we all headed down to the pier to wave him off.
Heading off on the Larven
The Larven arrived on time and left without a hitch, but Jeff was one of the lucky ones. One person only received the first of the updated timetables and arrived at the pier 40 minutes after the charter left, unaware that the boat had been and gone. They were now stuck on the island for a further two days, as the next boat wasn’t scheduled until Monday. Because the Larven carries no freight, the tea room was left without many of the items necessary for its planned Mothers Day afternoon tea the following day, and several other parcels and presents also failed to arrive on time. I had another reason for being glad that Jeff was able to get on the boat: he had agreed to act as yarn mule between me and Liz, my very kind test knitter based in Mallaig, so that she could finish test knitting the knitting patterns I have been working on during my time on Muck.
And this brings me to the Exciting News mentioned above: on Thursday 30th March I will running Inspired by the Isle of Muck, an hour-long online celebration of island-inspired craft. Join me to find out how Muck’s geography and history provide a wealth of inspiration for creativity, as well as taking a closer look at a range of arts and crafts practices that have developed on the island.
I’ll be unveiling three exciting new knitting patterns designed in response to the island, alongside a chance to get a sneak preview inside the island's craft shop, The Green Shed, before it reopens for the summer season. All attendees will receive a free copy of one of the new knitting patterns included in the price of the ticket. If you are unable to attend on 30 March, you can buy a Recorded Event ticket to receive a recording of the event to watch at your leisure. Tickets are available here https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/inspired-by-the-isle-of-muck-tickets-589393841847 and I’m looking forward to seeing you soon!
