the bottom of the gulf has been shaped by a primeval cataclysm. A ridge runs out from Scarba with a high rock pinnacle on the end of it and in the centre of the gulf a narrow pit, like a gateway to hell, descends 100 metres below the surrounding seabed to an overall depth of 219 metres. The turbulent waters spin round the pinnacle creating a maelstrom. In westerly gales there are also enormous breakers, violent eddies and water spouts and the noise of these overfalls can be heard many miles away. It is one of Europe’s most dramatic seascapes and even at slack water, when it is possible to sail through the Gulf, the turgid eddies and whorls sucking at the surface create a palpable sense of menace.
Scarba itself is a rugged island, a single peak rising to a height of 449 metres above sea-level with many coastal cliffs and caves and set between two notorious tidal races – the Corryvreckan to the south and the Pass of the Grey Dogs to the north. The west flank is the most precipitous but the east side is gentler, with a small patch of land fit for cultivation, and some scattered woodland. This 3600-acre island once supported fourteen families but nowadays it has no permanent residents and belongs to the family of the late Lord Duncan Sandys.
Gleann a’ Mhaoil Bay – just round the corner from the Corryvreckan – has a beach of large, multi-coloured pebbles and a small cottage which is occupied in summer by the wardens of an adventure school. They train school children in survival techniques – how to live entirely off the land and use the caves for shelter. There is an interesting trudge up the ridge beside this bothy which Peter and I tried out a couple of years ago. . . up and over the ridge. . . and the next ridge. . . and the next again. The going was rough: tufts of ankle-twisting grass, heather, and bracken with boggy patches amid great swathes of ragged-robin and cotton grass. Behind the ridges a vestigial path ran alongside a small loch. Only a narrow earth barrier seemed to stop this lochan from emptying itself nearly 300 metres down the mountain-side. Following the ‘path’ round the contours until it disappeared brought us to the head of a steep gully which falls dramatically down to Camas nam Bàirneach (‘limpet creek’). Deer spied on us from every rocky outcrop and far below the largest of the Corryvreckan whirlpools was taking shape in a white froth. A thrilling viewpoint!
EILEAN RIGH
. . . The manner of drinking used by the chief men of the isles is called. . . a ‘round’; for the company sat in a circle, the cup-bearer filled the drink round to them, and all was drunk out whatever the liqour was, whether strong or weak; they continued drinking sometimes twenty-four, sometimes forty-eight hours. It was reckoned a piece of manhood to drink until they became drunk, and there were two men with a barrow attending punctually on such occasions. They stood at the door until some became drunk, and they carried them upon the barrow to bed. . .
. . . Among persons of distinction it was reckoned an affront put upon any company to broach a piece of wine, ale, or aquavitae and not to see it all drunk out at one meeting.
No one can be sure how Eilean Righ – the ‘Royal Island’ – got its name. It may have been named after the Danish sea-king Olaf who is reputed to have died in this region or it might have been in honour of one of the many early Scottish kings who were crowned in mid-Argyll, but whatever its true history it is easy to see it as a modest place of royal residence. It had, in any case, a more recent royal association for it belonged to Sir Reginald Fleming Johnston, the famous tutor of Pu Yi, the last emperor of China. In the film The Last Emperor, Johnston was portrayed by Peter O’Toole. In 1934, after he had retired from his work in China and returned to Scotland with his Chinese mistress, Sir Reginald modernised the island’s two houses and settled in with his memories. It was here that he wrote the greater part of his book Twilight in the Forbidden City.
Eilean Righ (pron. elan ree), not much more than a mere 200 acres in area, is snugly situated in Loch Craignish, a sea-loch which is separated from the Sound of Jura by the powerful tidal rips of the Dorus Mór. A little further south is Crinan and the entrance to the canal which links to Loch Fyne. With good hill pasture and a fairly large area of mature woodland consisting of oak, ash, rowan, alder and hawthorn spreading along its east shore, the island was bought in 1992 by Viscount Chewton (a Somerset farmer and brother of the former government minister, William Waldegrave). He had spent all his childhood holidays on Scottish islands and he wanted his sons to have the same wonderful experience. But for family reasons he put the island back on the market a few years later and Eilean Righ now has another owner.
The road from the newly constructed jetty climbs steeply through the dense belt of mixed woodland, stippled with primroses amid a tangle of brambles, before it reaches the attractive group of buildings. These are almost at the centre of the island and they are set round a courtyard with a central flagpole. There is also the remains of a Confucian temple and stone lantern built by Sir Reginald who owned many Chinese artefacts and antiques. When he died, there was a local report that valuable porcelain and china were thrown into the loch, but this seems a very unlikely story.
Wandering about the island in the summer months is difficult because the dense, uncontrolled growth of bracken has taken over much of the grazing land but it is worthwhile battling through it to see one of Eilean Righ’s two Iron Age duns or forts which is set on the grassy summit of a ridge to the north of the buildings. It is oval-shaped and a number of minor artefacts were recovered from it by archaeologists during excavations in 1982. The other dun – Dun Righ, on a flat-topped ridge in the south-west, is rectangular but has an oval structure in the corner and just south of it is a fine example of a large cup-mark on a lichen-covered rock. This surely must have been a very important island to have justified having two forts!
The trees attract a lot of birds. Raptors and owls can be seen, and even the occasional pheasant pays a visit from the mainland. From October to March wintering divers frequent the shores which also support extensive wild mussel beds. There is a small resident herd of wild goats on Eilean Righ, although I have not yet seen them, and one would assume that they might occasionally swim over to the nearby islet which is called Eilean nan Gabhar – ‘isle of the goats’ – but I must admit that I have never yet seen any goats on it either. This tiny islet is probably better known for the shelter it gives to the occasional boat which tucks into the pleasant anchorage between it and the reef.
On Eilean Righ
Irene’s house at Ardinamir
LUING
. . . Children, horses, and cows see the second sight, as well as men and women advanced in years.
There is a popular anchorage at Ardinamir on Luing and the track leading to it passes a patch of woodland and a small house with an Iron Age fort on the hill above. On summer nights pipistrelle bats catch midges among the trees. The small house was occupied by Irene – a noteworthy character (every inhabited island has at least one noteworthy character). She had no electricity supply and had rejected the Council’s offer to arrange a connection on the grounds that electricity was of no use for anything – ‘except for the television – and who would want the television?’ she would shout (Irene assumed everyone was deaf). We never dared to ask her about the plumbing. An outside stand-pipe was her only source
