Caledonian MacBrayne has signed a three-and-a-half year pay deal worth 10.8% with all four unions for all seagoing and shore based staff. The possibility of industrial action has faced the Highlands and Islands almost every year threatening the fragile economies of the Region.

Numast, RMT, TGWU, and TSSA, have accepted the offer but have made it clear that they are still opposed to CalMac’s routes being put out to tender.

 

 

The Northern Lighthouse Board vessel PHAROS took part in the International Fleet Review held in Spithead off Portsmouth.

The event, attended by The Queen and The Duke of Edinburgh, started The Royal Navy’s Trafalgar 200 series commemorating the 200^th anniversary of the Battle of Trafalgar.

The last Fleet Review was held in1977 celebrating The Queen’s Silver Jubilee.

 

 

A full independent appraisal is to be held into the possibility of a fixed link to the Island of Luing. In the meantime The Scottish Executive has offered to ring-fence money for new slipways.

The Executive has already given £1.6 million towards new slipways but has said that the money should be spent by March 2006.

When the study is complete Argyll and Bute Council will be in a better position to judge whether a tunnel, bridge or new ferry is the best long-term solution for the island.

 

 

Due to adverse weather conditions across The Minch today (02/07), services between Uig, Tarbert and Lochmaddy were subject to delays or cancellations.

 

 

02/07/05.

 

 

The Mallaig-Armadale route was liable to delays or cancellations today (03/07) as a result of adverse weather conditions.

 

 

On the 1^st July Caledonian MacBrayne took delivery of its latest car and passenger ferry.

Named BUTE, she will enter service on the Wemyss Bay-Rothesay route.

The new ship, the seventh to be named BUTE, can hardly be described as revolutionary. However fifty-one years ago, in 1954, three new ships, built for The Caledonian Steam Packet Co Ltd, heralded   a new beginning for Clyde shipping.

They were named ARRAN, BUTE and COWAL, the first car ferries to serve on the Clyde. Nicknamed the ABC Ferries, they were named after the areas they were built to serve.

BUTE and COWAL were built by Ailsa Shipbuilding Co Ltd, Troon while ARRAN was built by William Denny & Bros Ltd, Dumbarton. She was the last ship built for the Company by the Dumbarton yard and was towed to Troon for fitting out.

BUTE made her maiden voyage on the Wemyss Bay-Rothesay route on the 6^th December 1954. She served on the Clyde faithfully for twenty-one years until she returned to Troon for alterations to her hoist to enable her to cope with her new deployment as Mallaig-Armadale ferry where the tidal ranges were greater than on the Clyde.

BUTE entered service on the Skye route in May 1975 where she remained for the rest of her career, which ended in 1979 after PIONEER took over at Mallaig.

COWAL was the only one of the ABC Ferries not to sail among the Western Isles.

So what does the future hold for BUTE (VII)? Will traffic on the Rothesay route grow to such an extent that a bigger ship will replace her? She has been built with a bow visor and is about the right size for the Mallaig-Armadale route.

Perhaps she will follow in the wake of ARRAN, which, in 1970 under charter to David MacBrayne Ltd, was placed on the West Loch Tarbert-Port Ellen route in response to the Western Ferries service from Kennacraig? In1973, by now under the Caledonian MacBrayne house flag, ARRAN was rebuilt with a stern ramp and won back a lot of the Islay traffic.

In the meantime we are sure that the new ship will be a worthy addition to the CalMac fleet and wish her all the success for the future.

 

 

03/07/05.

 

 

The 4^th of July 2005 marks the 20^th anniversary of the launching of HEBRIDEAN ISLES. She was built by Cochrane’s of Selby, Yorkshire and was launched sideways into the River Ouse.

The ship was the first in Caledonian MacBrayne to have a royal launch, the ceremony being performed by HRH Duchess of Kent.

Company policy now dictated that all large, new ships should have “Isle” or “Isles” in their name.

She cost £7 million to build and was to replace HEBRIDES (1964) on the Uig triangle, as the route was known. A further £5 million was to be spent upgrading the terminals at Uig, Tarbert (Harris) and Lochmaddy for ro-ro operation.

Heb Isles, as she is affectionately known, was the first ship to be built with assistance from the European Regional Development Fund. This was acknowledged by having the EEC emblem on her superstructure.

Her internal accommodation is much the same as ISLE OF ARRAN (1984). However the 1985 ship had an Observation Lounge on the top deck She was also built with a hoist at the stern, which was open to the elements.

HEBRIDEAN ISLES was delivered on 2nd December 1985. Instead of making for Uig she sailed to Ullapool to relieve SUILVEN over the winter period. This was due to the late completion of terminal facilities at Tarbert and Lochmaddy. She also served on the Oban-Craignure run during which time she carried out berthing trials at Kennacraig and Port Askaig.

HEBRIDES (1964) was withdrawn in November 1985, however it was 8^th May 1986 before her replacement appeared on the Uig triangle, the route for which she was built. Due to significant civil engineering problems at Uig it was another eight months before a full ro-ro service could be achieved.

Following the delivery of HEBRIDES (2001) from Ferguson’s of Port Glasgow, Heb Isles immediately sailed south to Kennacraig and took over the Islay service from ISLE OF ARRAN and since then has become associated with this route. In the summer she calls at Oban and Colonsay in addition to Port Ellen and Port Askaig.

She was on the Rothesay run during the 2003 Cowal Highland Games weekend.

Her other relieves include a couple of spells on the Scrabster-Stromness route.

HEBRIDEAN ISLES has proved to be a worthy and versatile addition to the fleet.

She is featured on the July page of the Club Calendar with a photograph of her at Oban taken by Iain McPherson.

 

 

04/07/05.

 

 

Construction company Pochin Concrete Pumping has begun work on the new pier at Inverie, Knoydart Peninsular as part of a £6.5 million plan by Highland Council to improve links with the Peninsular.

The company will pump 4,500 cubic metres of concrete underwater to create anchor blocks for the new pier’s foundations.

The work at Inverie follows on from similar work at Rum, Eigg and Muck as part of the Small Isles pier improvements. The work should be completed in October.

The existing pier is reported to be on its last legs.

 

 

The Oban Times Lochaber Lines Column reports that in1905 the GAIRLOCHY and GONDOLIER were sailing, on the Caledonian Canal, from Banavie to Inverness.

The GRENADIER was making regular trips to the islands while CAVALIER and CLYDESDALE were going further afield.

Messrs Langlands and Sons steamer PRINCESS MAUD arrived at Fort William, from Liverpool, on Sunday were she lay until Monday afternoon.

 

 

09/07/05.

 

 

Dr Harold Mills, Chairman of Caledonian MacBrayne, has received a six-month extension to his contract. Transport Minister, Tavish Scott made the announcement today (13/07).

 

 

13/07/05.

 

 

 

Donald E. Meek

 

As a native of the Inner Hebridean island of Tiree, I grew up with an awareness of the sea, and also an interest in ships.  In particular, I became a life-long enthusiast of the vessels of David MacBrayne, and especially those vessels, which served Tiree from the mainland port of Oban.   I was brought up on a croft in Caolas, at the east end of Tiree.  The croft house and family home was called ‘Coll View’, as it enjoyed fine views across Gunna Sound to the island of Coll.  Gunna Sound was a busy stretch of water during my boyhood years, mainly because it was the key passage-way for vessels sailing north from Tiree to Barra and the Outer Hebrides, and frequently returning by the same route on the inward voyage to Oban and Glasgow.  Regular users of the Sound in the 1950s and 1960s were pre-eminently the MacBrayne mailships, Lochearn (1930) and Claymore (1955), and the cargo-boats, Lochcarron (1951), Loch Ard (1955), and (occasionally) Lochbroom (1945 [1948]) and Loch Frisa (1946 [1949]).   The lighthouse vessel Hesperus serviced the Raonabogh buoy marking the southern approach to the Sound, and also that marking the eastern edge of the deep-water course through the Sound itself.  From time to time the Hesperus would appear on the horizon, crawl warily into the Sound, and draw slowly alongside each buoy. She would spend some time refuelling it or winching it from the water and replacing it (or its moorings) with a new version.  

 

Puffers, fishing-boats, Army landing-craft (travelling from the South Uist rocket range and St Kilda) and fishery patrol vessels were also commonly seen in transit – but none of these vessels, however unusual, could match the thrill of seeing the Lochearn and latterly the Claymore travelling northwards about one or two o’ clock in the afternoon, en route for Castlebay, Barra, and Lochboisdale, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.  On windy days – and hardly a day passed in Tiree without some wind – the Claymore would pass through the relatively sheltered waters of the Sound, and then begin to buffet her way through the troubled stretch of water known locally in Gaelic as Am Bun Dubh (‘The Black Bottom’).  I would climb to the highest window of the house, and sometimes scale the highest hillock in Caolas, to watch anxiously as she buried her bow heavily in the grey swells. White sheets of spray would sweep across her bridge and, in the worst weather, the spray would temporarily obscure her large, domed, red and black funnel, which set her apart from all the other ships of the MacBrayne fleet.  I thought that she was incomparably splendid as she wrestled with the waves, and I envied (foolishly) the Barra folk who had the privilege of the long, seasick sail north to Castlebay.

 

I knew to the minute when the Claymore would pass through the Sound, as there was a regular exchange between her radio-operator and the keepers of Barra Head lighthouse on leaving Tiree.   I would listen-in to the Marine Band on my radio after one o’ clock, to hear the operator calling up the lighthouse: ‘Claymore calling Barra Head, Claymore calling Barra Head….’, followed by the time of departure and the estimated time of arrival in Castlebay.  Information about wind and weather was exchanged.  Then the Claymore herself would come into view, rounding the island’s southern shoreline, passing Milton, and turning northwards into the Sound of Gunna at Roisigil.  A narrow channel of water was sometimes employed to enter the Sound more quickly, if tidal conditions were right.  The channel was accessed by traditional navigational methods, which required alignments of features on the island of Gunna and the islands in the south of the Sound.  As the Claymore’s officers were usually Tiree men, they knew these waters intimately, and piloted her with great skill through the shallow stretches.   I felt particularly pleased when, on a good day, I could obtain a grandstand view of the Claymore, edging as close as possible to the Caolas coast, as she headed north. An exciting bows-on view, with her sword-bearing Highlander displayed on the figurehead, would yield to a long side-elevation, and finally her port quarter, with its gentle tumble-home and elegant sheer, would pull northwards.  Her throbbing Sulzer diesels would echo across the blue-green water – her rhythmical vibration audible in the rising and falling pulse of her engines, and their distinctive sound.  A ribbon of foam rose at her bow, covering her red boot-topping, as she left a white swathe behind her cruiser stern, and seagulls wheeled and cried overhead.  I could see the few vehicles stowed on the hatches below her derrick and her thick, yellow samson-post.  I could pinpoint the men on the bridge and the passengers on the benches, which doubled as life-rafts, alongside the varnished boats with their green tarpaulins.  The MacBrayne pennant flew on her fore jack-staff, and the house-flag on her main-mast.  She was a majestic ship, with her distinctive funnel and stunted, modern appearance.   I thought then that she had no equal – and I have not changed my mind more than forty years later!

 

My first view of the Claymore was, in fact, in the Sound of Gunna, as she passed through on the day of her maiden voyage in the early summer of 1955 – Monday 20^th June, to be precise.  For some reason, schoolchildren had been given a half-day. Having walked home hurriedly from Ruaig Primary School in early afternoon, I reached the top of Croish in Caolas, just in time to catch sight of her, resplendent in her bunting and taking her first dip through what would become very familiar waters for her and for me over the next twenty years. 

 

My last encounter with the Claymore, unlike my first, was not in Tiree, but in the East India Harbour in Greenock, where she had been laid up prior to her departure to Greece.  I was determined to bid her farewell, and so, early in 1976, I went on a special mission to photograph her on what would assuredly be my last opportunity.  I also wanted to thank her – as if she were a sentient being – for the many safe and supremely happy passages that I had enjoyed on her as a boy.  She looked much the same as ever, and it was hard to believe that she was now out of service.  I felt like crying as I left her to face her future among the Greek islands.  Shortly afterwards her ‘real’ name was blacked out, and City of Andros was painted in white on her stern and in black on her forward bulwarks. When she arrived in Greece, in the ownership of Cycladic Cruises, she was rebuilt and altered radically.  Her new curved bow and canoe stern and elegantly extended upper deck, to say nothing of her creamy white colour, were in the sharpest possible contrast to the bumped bulwarks, the black, rust-bespattered hull and the battered belting which I knew so well. To the outward eye she was but a shadow of the earlier Claymore, retaining only the latter’s distinctive bridge and funnel, but flattened off on top and given additional ‘wings’.  Renamed City of Hydra, she operated until the early 1990s from Piraeus to the Cyclades, before being laid up and sinking as a neglected, damaged hulk at Eleusis Bay in November 2000.  On reading of her demise, I suffered a sense of bereavement, as if a family member had passed away, but I consoled myself with the observation that, for me at least, she had ceased to be the Claymore as soon as she left MacBrayne ownership in 1976.

 

The thought that the Claymore might ever sink was far from my mind in my Tiree days.  She was a model of stalwart service, successfully battling storms and gales of all kinds, though she was comparatively slow at twelve knots, and seemed relatively underpowered with her two four-cylinder Sulzer diesels.  She also had the worst vibration I have yet encountered in any ship, with a distinctive and unnerving rhythm.  Her vibrations would ‘wind up’ to a crescendo, and then sink away to relative calm before recommencing the cycle.   Any attempt to rest one’s head on the woodwork of the second-class lounge, and catch a moment’s sleep because ‘the vibration had gone away’, was doomed to failure, as the rattling and shaking began anew.  As Tom Robertson, Claymore’s former Chief Engineer, informs me, the vibration was caused by her having four-cylinder Sulzer diesels, instead of five- or six-cylinder versions, which would have ensured much smoother running.  Splendidly constructed under license by her builders, William Denny and Bros, Dumbarton, her engines were extremely reliable, and, at 600 bhp each, adequate for the required service speeds. Their size was determined by overall efficiency, particularly when slow-running on the inward overnight run from Barra to Tiree. An (unsuccessful) attempt was made to reduce her vibration by placing heavy tie-rods between the two engines.

 

Despite her faults, the Claymore had her own potent magic, not least in her design. Her superstructure, streamlined bridge and funnel reflected the styles of the early 1950s.  She bore a fascinating general resemblance to the French Line’s steam-turbine liner, Flandre, which sailed on her maiden voyage to New York in July1952, barely a month before the Claymore was ordered, in accordance with the Government White Paper of that year, stipulating the mail contract with MacBrayne, and providing for the building of a new passenger vessel and a new cargo vessel.  The Flandre sported a similarly front-vented and domed funnel, crowning her rather broad-beamed hull, in what seems to have been a brief revival of maritme Art Deco, soon to be snuffed out by the ambiguous angularity of car-carriers.  The Claymore also echoed the profile of the new generation of cross-Channel ‘ferries’, such as the Denny-built Normannia (1952).  Denny Brothers and associated naval architects were evidently responding to wider European designs in this period, and applying them to their own ships.  Old and new were, however, rivetted together rather incongruously in the Claymore, making it evident retrospectively that she sat uncomfortably on the boundary between the earlier Loch Seaforth and the forthcoming triad of modern car-ferries, Hebrides, Clansman and Columba.  Indeed, I can almost forgive the Greeks for determining to give her a complete revamp, while preserving waterline length, and for imposing an understandable uniformity of design on the City of Hydra, even if they destroyed my old Hebridean sweetheart in the process.  The Greeks – shrewd recyclers of other nations’ maritime cast-offs – realised that, behind the restrictive corsetry of the Claymore’s conventional features, there was another, much more modern ship ‘trying to get out’, and they rebuilt the hull to conform to the model implicit in the futuristic bridge and funnel.   A radical overhaul of this kind, which made her look more like a shapely motor-yacht than a rugged passenger-cargo vessel, was the only way to prolong the ship’s life.  Such rebuilding was beyond the penurious purse of the newly merged Caledonian MacBrayne, which had arrived on the scene in 1973, with dire consequences for older members of the MacBrayne fleet.

 

The external peculiarities of the Claymore – rugged rivets, old-style gear and gentle lines, combined with flowing curves of Art Deco in her superstructure – were part of her character.  Her cargo-handling machinery likewise nodded towards a new era signified by the samson-post and derrick, but it was firmly linked to the old order of block and tackle.  She was, for many people, the archetypal MacBrayne ‘steamer’, conveying passengers and cattle, sheep and foodstuffs, cars and coffins, to the islands.   To view her loading and unloading by means of her derrick was an unforgettable experience, slow and ponderous, with a nerve-tingling element of suspense (in every sense). This was the principal reason for her early dispatch in 1976.  By then she had been superseded by the above-mentioned car-ferries, which had begun to appear in the islands by 1964.  Modern though she was in overall design, her samson-post and derrick, and relatively small size, made her somewhat inflexible and hard, if not impossible, to convert to car-carrying when the new era finally struck the islands in all its power.  She paid the price, but sailed in modified form for another twenty years.

 

The Claymore’s internal design offered similar contrasts, combining old-time graciousness in her décor with emerging modern utilitarianism and significant departures from traditional arrangements. Novel features included the positioning of the First Class bar on the promenade deck, the location of the crew’s quarters aft on the promenade and main decks, and of the officers’ accommodation in the deckhouse immediately below the funnel.   Her novelties, however, did not extend to an easier layout.  She had a labyrinth of steep stairs and passage-ways, which sometimes caused mild disorientation and confusion, especially if passengers were kept on board for prolonged periods in bad weather. 

 

At the end of a particularly stormy week in 1974 or 1975, for instance, during which the Claymore had made several brave attempts to reach Tiree from Oban, she ventured north to Barra where she was storm-bound – but not for long, despite the persistent gales.   In fact, we were astonished when we saw her lights coming through the narrow and difficult waters of Gunna Sound around 5 a.m.  Berthing at Tiree in the windy darkness of the early morning was an heroic feat in itself, indicative of the immense skill of Hebridean captains.  I can still see and hear Captain Gunn on the bridge, wrestling with the telegraphs and shouting (through a megaphone) to car-drivers to extinguish their headlights, as he tried to bring the ship’s stern on to the outer edge of Tiree pier, and then swing her round with the help of windlass and capstans.  The tide was high, with heavy swells, and the ship herself looked huge on the dark waves, her navigating lights, mast lanterns and deck illumination accentuating her robust overall profile. Eventually she berthed successfully, her propellers churning the black water to white, while nylon ropes groaned and squeaked with the immense strain.  Climbing the almost-vertical gangway, I struggled downstairs to the Claymore’s lounge, only to be confronted by a ghostly, female passenger who emerged shell-shocked from a cabin, and requested to know the place, the time and the day of the week!  She had been on board since the ship had left Oban the previous week!

 

Like that unfortunate passenger but for better reasons, I was soon lost in the Claymore’s atmosphere, her warmth and conviviality contrasting with the storm outside.  Rugged staves of accordion music from the bar, interspersed with weary, inebriated, Outer Isles voices singing Gaelic songs, the smell of sheep-dip and kippers, bacon and egg, diesel oil and hot tea, and whiffs of Archangel tar, still mingle in my mind as I recollect her then.   The more enticing fragrances led to the restaurant, with its fine wood panels and paintings, where tables were set out grandly with silver cutlery, large silver teapots and dazzlingly white linen.  The Claymore’s accommodation was second to none for a vessel of that class.  

 

The Claymore’s good qualities were enhanced by the kindness of her crew.  For most of her time with MacBrayne, her masters were Tiree men (a point of which I was particularly proud!), commencing with Captain John C. MacKinnon, MBE, who was followed by Captain Neil Campbell, who was followed in his turn by Captain John Lamont.  Her last master was Captain Donald Gunn, from Harris. The generosity shown by these skippers to their passengers deserves to be chronicled at greater length than is possible in this article.  John C. MacKinnon, for example, would make a regular round of his passengers on leaving Tiree.  His progress through the ship could be ‘charted’ by means of his booming voice and hearty laughter, as he shared a joke in Gaelic with a fellow-islander, and puffed out clouds of tobacco smoke from his ever-present pipe. 

 

As a youngster, I travelled regularly to Oban, and onwards to Glasgow, for eye treatment.  The highlight of my journey was to be called up to the bridge by Captain MacKinnon.  There I was introduced to other members of the crew, who did not object to the ‘boy on the bridge’, and who continued to be close friends in later years.  Subsequent Captains always gave me the opportunity to travel to and from Tiree on the bridge.  Kindness was shown in other ways too.  It was not uncommon for the Captains to offer their cabins to passengers who were also close friends, to allow them to sit, chat or rest in comparative comfort.  On a visit to the Outer Hebrides in the early 1960s, I slept on the settee in the Captain’s cabin on the inward voyage to Tiree.  I felt that I was the Commodore of the Fleet, as I made my way from the Captain’s cabin to the bridge, by means of the heavy metal door (with its loosely-fitting handle!), which secured the wheelhouse.  

 

The panoramic vistas of the Inner Hebrides and the adjacent mainland to be gained from the bridge of the Claymore are still etched on my memory.  So too are the  grandstand views of local maritime dramas, such as the Claymore’s regular rendezvous with the Coll ferry-boat in the days before that island gained its own pier in the mid-1960s.  In the first stage of the rendezvous, the ferry was moored at the Claymore’s side-door (on the port side). As both vessels rolled on the swell, passenger-transfer needed careful supervision.  Passengers had to judge the moment when the gunwale of the ferry was level, or likely to be level, with the bottom of the Claymore’s side-door, and to engage in some smart foot-work, particularly when boarding the larger ship.  As the faint-hearted put their best foot forward, two burly crewmen were waiting on each side of the door to pull them to safety. When passengers had been embarked or disembarked, the ferry was eased ahead, so that she aligned reasonably closely with the Claymore’s derrick.  The non-human cargo was then transferred.  The Coll ferry could accommodate a car or a tractor in addition to passengers, and it was especially exciting to see such a large item being raised or lowered.  Usually the cargo consisted of mail in slings and animals in cages or boxes.   When the process was completed, the little red boat cast her moorings, and drifted to leeward of the Claymore.  She then engaged full power, and, dipping and heaving in the cold morning air, headed for Arinagour, doubtless to the great relief of all concerned.     The Claymore’s next stop was Tobermory, where she would berth for about half-an-hour, before heading out to Oban.  Tobermory was always attractive, with its myriad yachts in the harbour, and its steep, wooded slopes towering above the pier building bearing the name of David MacBrayne.

 

From time to time I would have the thrill of steering the Claymore on a safe stretch of water, usually the Sound of Mull.  I was closely supervised, of course.  I learned to keep a sharp eye on the rudder indicator, above the main wheelhouse window, to ensure that the good ship maintained a straight course.  I came to understand compass bearings and readings, by listening to the officer of the watch as he gave orders to the helmsman.  ‘Nor’west by west a half west’, was the regular course on rounding the north-east point of Mull on the way to Coll.  Following the officer’s instruction, the helmsman would repeat the command, and cap it with a polite ‘Sir’, or, depending on the command, he would answer simply, ‘Aye, aye, Sir’.  Although officers and crew were generally Gaelic-speaking, and were often close friends, sometimes from the same island, course bearings and other commands were given very respectfully in English, but ordinary conversation would lapse naturally into Gaelic.

 

With officers’ permission and sometimes under escort, I also had the privilege of moving around the ship and enjoying parts of the Claymore’s deck normally out of bounds to passengers.  One of my favourite stances was under the forward jack-staff, where I could stand on the bollards, lean over the bulwark, look across the top of the Highlander on the quasi-figurehead, and watch the vessel’s tapering stem cutting a fine wave of spray through the blue-green surface of the Sound of Mull.  On a sunny day it was a glorious and even exciting experience, as old-timers like the Lochinvar tried their flagging paces against this greyhound of the West, rattling along at all of her stunning twelve knots.  Looking astern from this vibration-free vantage-point, I could see the streamlined, white wheelhouse with its elegant wings and centrally-placed builder’s plate, the foremast with its tripod and radar, and the large domed funnel with its deep front vents, emitting its characteristic ‘lull-lull-lull’ engine noise. 

 

Officers and crew were very well versed not only in the ways of the sea and their ship, but also in Gaelic language and culture.  I learned a great deal about my native Gaelic language and about other Hebridean islands during my wheelhouse conversations with the helmsman or officer, or when I had the chance to converse with the Captain in his cabin.  I had a particularly close friendship with Angus Morrison, a native of Harris, who was frequently at the wheel, and who, with a wry smile on his handsome, weather-beaten face, would test my knowledge of Gaelic by reciting words and idioms from his own island.  As a teenager, attending Oban High School between 1965 and 1967, I found that the Claymore and her crew offered me a ‘home from home’, where I would frequently spend a Saturday afternoon, watching the crew or participating in the routine of the ship, and sometimes enjoying the fun of salvaging one of her anchors from the entanglements of Oban Bay.  (Lacking a bow-thruster, the Claymore often had the use of the port or starboard anchor, to hold the bow and ensure a successful docking against adverse wind and currents.)  I got to know particularly well Captain John Lamont and his family, who showed me great kindness on Saturday evenings; the Purser, Donald Edwards, who served latterly on the Clansman, and Tom Robertson, later to be her Chief Engineer, who is now well known as a skilful marine artist specialising in portrayals of MacBrayne and Caledonian MacBrayne ships (with a particular talent for painting the Claymore!).  Walks along the Railway Pier on Sundays, when I would often encounter crew members like Calum Brown from my native Tiree, mending his Morris Minor van, allowed me to study the ship’s hull in detail, every stud and rivet, and to view her propellers and rudder in the translucent waters of Oban Bay.  It was sobering to think how many island communities owed their continuing existence to the skilful use of these hidden pieces of engineering.

 

The Claymore was a floating community, full of character, fun and friendship.  She and I grew up together, and she was bonded into my being, where she remains to this day.  She was as essential to my boyhood as she was to the life of the islands, conveying me to the mainland for medical care or to visit relatives, and to many new places and experiences.  She and her crew helped to fix my sense of place in the Hebrides and in the wider world, and they contributed signficantly to my general education. 

 

Unquestionably, too, the Claymore had an identity which is hard to replicate on contemporary slab-sided car-ferries   She belonged to another era, now largely vanished, when life on land and sea was more relaxed, less ‘managerialised’, less constricted by oceans of detailed regulation, less enslaved to ‘turn-around times’, but less casual in other ways.  Unlike modern travellers in jeans, shorts and tee-shirts, islanders dressed up in collar-and-tie to travel on the Claymore.  In contrast to the leisurely Claymore, present-day ‘ferry powerful’ specimens of marine engineering dash from one island to another, scarcely resting for more than half an hour, and thereby reflecting the pressures of the profit-driven lifestyle from which stressed-out tourists are trying to escape. They offer their brief tannoy messages from the largely invisible Captain, broadcast their raucous, pre-recorded ‘Safety Announcements’ when leaving every harbour, and provide a generally bleak and impersonal approach to passenger comfort, more in keeping with a jumbo-jet than a ship.  On many vessels (though, thankfully, not on all, as I recently discovered when travelling on the immensely sociable Hebridean Isles), there is an almost total absence of interaction between passengers and crew, except when following the standard routines, going to the shop or having a meal in the paper-and-plastic cafeteria (not the restaurant now!).  Back in the ‘old days’, when ships were ships and not ‘ferries’ (a term applicable in my early days only to open-decked ‘flit-boats’ or turntable vessels), I knew virtually every member of the crew of the Claymore, and I was known by them.  Today I can travel completely unnoticed, lost in faceless, modern anonymity, on the Lord of the Isles or the Clansman.  Company concerns about security apparently rule out bridge-visits on these vessels; I have yet to visit the bridge of the Lord of the Isles, and only once have I been ushered into the plate-glass control-centre of the Clansman, with its endless array of dials, switches, buttons and diagrams.  The Clansman’s monitors and screens, her autopilot and satellite positioning system, are a far cry from the wooden wheel and compass, echo-sounder and radar set, of the unassuming 1955 Claymore.  For me at least, they are much less exciting, much less human.  It may be that such new ‘ferries’ can offer a service which is much more reliable than, and technically superior to, what the Claymore could provide, but for me, and for many others, the Claymore will retain her place in memory and in affections long after her present-day successors have passed into oblivion.  Fifty years exactly from the day of her first voyage to the Inner Hebrides, when I raced home from primary school to see her dipping northwards through the Sound of Gunna, she is still sailing powerfully in my mind.

 

 

 

 

It has given me immense pleasure to write this article as a tribute to the Claymore and her crew, who added a special dimension to my early life.  I am very grateful to Mr Tom Robertson, her former Chief Engineer, for reading an earlier draft of this article, for making corrections and for supplying information on the Claymore’s engines.  I am also indebted to Dr Nick Robins for his encouragement to write and publish this piece.  His highly illuminating book, Ferry Powerful (Portishead, 2003), sets the Claymore and other MacBrayne motor-vessels in their wider British maritime context.

 

 

Monday 20^th June 2005 

 

 

 Donald E Meek is Professor of Scottish and Gaelic Studies at Edinburgh University. His   personal view of the CLAYMORE was written to celebrate the 50^th anniversary of her maiden voyage. He offered the piece to Sea Breezes Magazine only to find they had a 3-4 year waiting list for publication.

He then offered the piece to Hugh Dan MacLennan, Head of Customer Relations for Caledonian MacBrayne, for possible future publication in a booklet or the CalMac staff magazine.

Many thanks to Professor Meek and to Hugh Dan MacLennan for their kind permission to print the piece on this website.

Professor Meek holds the copyright over Hebridean Vibrations: Remembering The Claymore (1955).

 

 

16/07/05.

 

 

Argyll and Bute Council has found funds to allow an extra sailing to Tiree and Coll during the winter provided that HiTrans, the regional transport partnership, can find matching funds.

By amending funds for other local transport schemes the Council has been able to release £19,076.92 of Rural Transport Grant to meet 50% of the total cost of £34,778.

For many years Tiree and Coll received only three sailings a week on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. The islands would receive an extra sailing on Sunday. However the extra sailing would only run from October 23^rd until December 16^th when the money would run out.

Caledonian MacBrayne’s winter timetable is ready to go to the printers so a decision is required soon.

 

 

A study carried out for Comhairle nan Eilean Siar, Western Isles Enterprise and HiTrans has shown that ferry charges accounted for 55% of the cost of transporting freight from Stornoway to the distribution centre at Bellshill near Glasgow.

200 jobs have been lost in the fish processing industry in the last two years. The closures could have been prevented by a 25% cut in freight charges. This would save the haulage industry up to £1 million.

According to the study Caledonian MacBrayne earns £3.9 a year in freight charges to and from the islands. 64% of freight revenue comes from the Stornoway-Ullapool route.

The study concluded by stating that more work should be done to accommodate extra traffic.

 

 

An extension to the Corran Ferry timetable could see the service running for up to 18 hours a day from 6am to midnight throughout the year.

The extension is in response to Acharacle Community Council who have asked for a campaign for a bridge across the Corran Narrows to be launched. A bridge at this location would have to be single span and 100ft high.

The local Highland Councillor is pushing hard to get the ferry timetable extended but added that if the Community felt that a bridge was a priority and feasible then it would be looked at.

 

 

LOCH BUIE has developed engine problems and will probably return to the Clyde for repairs. BRUERNISH and RAASAY have left Oban and Fairlie respectively to provide a two-ship service between Tobermory and Kilchoan while LOCH LINNHE has moved to the Iona service.

 

 

17/07/05.

 

 

LOCH BUIE arrived at Troon today (20/07) for repairs to her Voith unit and will probably stay until the weekend.

 

 

The return sailing from Oban to Lochboisdale on Saturday 23^rd faces disruption due to low tides. The service has been rescheduled as follows:

 

Dep Oban 1100 Arr Lochboisdale 1620

Dep Lochboisdale 1640 Arr Oban 2200

 

 

20/07/05.

 

 

LOCH BUIE entered dry-dock today (22/07) and will remain there until Saturday pm. After seatrials on Sunday she will depart for Campbeltown where she will berth overnight. Handover with LOCH LINNHE will probably take place on Tuesday.

RAASAY, after being relieved by the Linnhe, will proceed to Corpach where she will lie in the Canal Basin in readiness for overhaul.

BRUERNISH will return to Oban as spare ship.

 

 

22/07/05.

 

 

ISLE OF MULL was late in leaving Oban this morning (23/07) for her first run to Craignure. Departure time was 0810 instead of 0730. This was due to some sort of breakdown on board ship.

LORD OF THE ISLES, on the first crossing from Craignure, hove to off Lismore while waiting for IOM to vacate the linkspan. In the end she berthed at the Railway Pier to allow passengers heading for the train to disembark. The first train to Glasgow Queen Street normally leaves at 0820.

LOTI then left Oban, on schedule, with the 0930 to Craignure returning to Oban at 1030. In the meantime IOM had managed to depart Oban and carried out an additional sailing from Craignure at 0930.

LOTI also made an extra call at Craignure while heading out to Lochboisdale at 1100. She was effectively spare during this period because the South Uist sailing had been rescheduled due to low tides. Normally she would have left Oban at 0900.

Many thanks to Iain McPherson for the information.

 

 

The replica Clyde puffer MARYHILL has been bought by a new boat charter company to ply the Caledonian Canal. Shearwater Boats Ltd of Telford House, Banavie has bought the boat and will carry up to six passengers up and down the Canal.

The replica puffer is based on the steamships, which plied their trade on the Clyde and among the Western Isles up to the 1960s.

The author, Neil Munro, captured the imagination of the public with his tales of Para Handy and his puffer, the Vital Spark.

The Ardmaleish Boatbuilding Company on the Island of Bute built MARYHILL, in 2004. Shortly after she was launched she sailed up the Forth and Clyde Canal to Kirkintilloch where many puffers were built by the yards of Peter MacGregor & Sons and John Hay & Sons.

 

 

23/07/05.

 

 

LOCH BUIE left Troon at 1315 today (24/07) for Largs in order to collect crew cars. She will stay overnight at Campbeltown and head up to Iona tomorrow.

Many thanks to Iain McPherson for his updates on the LOCH BUIE.

 

 

 

On the evening of Saturday 23^rd July the Clubhouse at the Largs Model Boat Club was broken into and no less than 16 model boats were stolen. These range from small tugs and puffers to large 7ft long naval vessels.

A large van must have been used to carry out the crime. This may have looked quite normal to any passers-by without knowledge of the Club or its activities.

Those responsible may try to sell the models on Ebay or even carboot sales and the Barras Market in Glasgow.

Please keep at look out for any one trying to sell a large quantity of model ships, in particular those who look or sound as if they do not know anything about ships.

 

 

24/07/05.

 

 

A report from the Marine Accident Investigation Branch (MAIB) has found that not only a lack of effective communication but also bad bridge practices on board the ISLE OF MULL caused an accident on the evening of December 29^th last year.

Just after 1900 IOM, while approaching the pier, glanced off LORD OF THE ISLES then hit the pier causing considerable damage to her bow area. The ship was taken out of service to enable repairs to be carried out.

Caledonian MacBrayne launched its own investigation into the accident. The MAIB has, therefore, not made any recommendations.

Apparently the Master forgot to turn on the bow thrusters on the centre control console before moving to the starboard wing console and applying 50 % astern. The officer- on- watch started the bow thrusters at the same time but did not have control over the port engine, which was still set on 50% ahead.

As a result of the accident arrival and departure procedures have been reviewed and updated. Mooring teams now have to report to the bridge that they are in position.

 

 

30/07/05.

 

 

By the beginning of the 1990s the Stornoway vessel SUILVEN was rapidly becoming outdated. Her passenger and vehicle accommodation was inadequate. In addition she took 3 ½ hours to sail from Ullapool to Stornoway.

In 1993 Caledonian MacBrayne announced that Fergusons of Port Glasgow would build a new vessel for the Stornoway run. Launched in April 1995 by HRH Princess Alexandra ISLE OF LEWIS performed her maiden voyage between Ullapool and Stonoway ten years ago on 31^st July 1995.

While on trials she achieved 18.9 knots, the fastest motor vessel in the fleet. At 6563 gross tonnes she is also the biggest in the fleet, 22ft longer than CALEDONIAN ISLES. ISLE OF LEWIS can carry 1000 passengers and 123 cars, including 30 on her mezzanine decks. As before, when a new ship is introduced on a route, an increase in traffic is almost immediately noticed.

The Lewis crosses The Minch in 2 ½ hours making day trips to and from the mainland possible for the first time.

On her way north from the Clyde she called at Uig, Lochmaddy and Tarbert (Harris), where she is featured in the December page of the Club Calendar in a photograph taken by Kenny McAskill, on a fly the flag exercise.

The closure of the Ullapool linkspan for repair work saw her return to Uig while military charters have brought her back to Lochmaddy. She has, otherwise, been a one-route ship.

In 1999, on her way back from overhaul on the Tyne, she called at Stromness in the Orkney Islands on another fly the flag exercise as CalMac, together with The Royal Bank of Scotland, became the preferred bidders for the Northern Isles routes. That Company became known as Northlink Ferries.

In 2001 Taygran Shipping launched a new service on the Lewis route in competition with CalMac using firstly WHITE SEA and then TAYGRAN TRADER. Taygran were challenging CalMac in a fight to win the commercial traffic.

After five months Taygran ceased trading but forced CalMac into offering a better service. The Company responded by placing LORD OF THE ISLES and then ISLE OF ARRAN on the route to assist ISLE OF LEWIS. The chartered vessel, MUIRNEAG, now accompanies her on the route.

 

 

Duncan Wilson 31^st July 2005.