Chapter 8: Aug 11/12 Loch Hourn
August 11 - Loch Hourn. The party fish and catch codling, gurnet, plaice, skate and mackerel; the last caught fron the deck with the rod by Maureen, a rare catch for a ship at anchor.
Weather remains warm, sunny and bright. Went ashore early, about 7, Skipper and Maureen were out in the dinghy and landed me by the dam or 'bother'. I had a cool shower bath under the greenwood tree with the aid of a sponge and a lively dashing burn, but midges made the affair well nigh intolerable. You see if you get the nice rain and the waterfalls you get the midges too, but gnat me no gnats, the one is preferable to dry eastern murk which I deem unsuitable to the Highlands.
Here comes the bride, short, stout and wide,
See how she waddles from side to side.
Apropos of nothing at all, except that I do not want to forget that admirable couplet. I was sitting in the 'Potting Shed' hard at my scribbling when Maureen dashed in with a discovery. She had found some seed pearls in a mussel shell. I found a piece of topaz yesterday. I often think if as I fondly hope I shall one day retire to Loch Hourn I might start a jewel factory and so contribute some small solution to the highland problem.
This place is beautiful beyond description. We have seen many superbly grand and glorious scenes on this cruise; but in general agreement Loch Hourn is deemed to excel them all. The anchorage is snug and quiet, being completely landlocked and surrounded by heights which shelter the wind from all quarters. Everything about the place is so fresh and clean. The gulls snow white, the heather with that schoolgirl complexion, the sound of falling water, the fantastic cirro-cumuli, the beetling precipices of Laorben and Craig na Boa, the bold and graceful scarp of Carn Mairi. The sometimes roseate helmet of Beinn nan Eun (Hill of the Birds), the lazy flight of the heron, the lullaby of the oyster catcher and the butterfly flicker of white as the solan darts volant along the steep slopes on the farther shore of the loch. Reflections and colours varying with each passing moment.
Was called below for a piece it being elevenses and to see the accumulation of months of black oily sludge and grit on Daisy Gardner's crankcase filter. Skipper McClumsie and Maureen are busy with it now and having a whale of a time. We others enjoy a private view of Smab's water colours. Some of her Exhibition Pieces are most attractive. She has caught the spirit of the Highlands in all its varying moods.
August 12th - Loch Hourn.
From Eilean Garbh I climbed the steep
To Uamh Allt's high lochan
By pathless track that save for sheep
Is oft concealed by bracken
Through bog and heather step by step
I heaved my panting carcase ........
Anyhow I got there! I said to myself I will get to that loch. It is over the 750 ft contour and nearer 850 perhaps 900. In past days J. Caesar and I had toiled our way up and fished the loch on an easterly day and had no luck. I thought I would try mine again in these westling zephyrs. By sheer determination I heaved my way up the gradient of one in three and sometimes steeper, easy enough for the stripling, but I carried some weight of years and clambered up in sea boots and had to concentrate hard not to lose either my balance or my way, for as I told you above there is no path and scarcely a sheep track. Not seldom I hauled myself up by the branches of trees as Sir Walter Scott says so aptly:-
"Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain
Assistance from the hand to gain"
Very scant of breath I reached my goal and enjoyed the virtuous feelings which are the reward of effort. I sat on a little knoll about fifty foot above my lochan and consumed refreshments. Setting up my rod I discovered that a part of the reel had come adrift and refused to function. I made shift to repair it quite inadequately with string and started to fish the loch. It is scarcely matter for comment that I caught nothing, though I may have tangled my cast in the reeds which were too prolific, but I was amply repaid for the climb by the prospect of mountain, moor and loch which I could enjoy to the full from my commanding elevation.
The ship's party had evinced a tolerant interest in my escalade. They said "Oh, it's only the Cat, harmless eccentricity". Smab had shown practical encouragement. She had out the outboard and brought me along to my starting place, after which she and her party Mollie and McClumsie went fishing among the Corr Islands along with the seals and porpoises and herons which frequent those parts. I could see them all at it, and rather envied their lazy inertia and horizontal calm, and when later I had successfully made the descent by the side of the dark Uamh Allt (cave of the burn) I had the felicity of being picked up by Maureen and the Skipper who having rigged the dinghy were taking a smart turn to windward. They picked me off the rock Andromeda fashion and the run back to the yacht with a fresh breeze astern was good and exhilarating.
That was a diversion from the normal monotony. I mean Loch Hourn. We had the place, and it is a considerable one, to ourselves. Merely to be there was indescribable delight; for though it is supposed to be the Loch of Hell, it is much more like what I should suppose the other place to be. Of course the extraordinary comfort and charm of living on a yacht is a great addition to the general amenity. Consider our occupations. Smab and Maureen vied with each other in producing marvels of culinary skill. Give the Skipper any sort of a boat and keep him afloat and he's happy, and what did the Mate and Mollie do? They sailed about; they rumbled on the beach and gathered jewels. I went over to the Knoc, the hill by the narrows, round which there is a stretch of emerald green turf and a shingly shallow of sand. They had collected bits of mica, amethyst, topaz and many forms of chrystal and quartz. Many of these stones can be ground and set as gems for personal adornment. They would fetch good prices. I have told you of my activities. At night - more consequences, which we began to find a severe strain not only on the laughter muscles but the literary resources of the imagination. Before we left we named one of the most imposing features of the surrounding heights Mount Pandora. If you ever go there you will recognise it by the dainty pink night cap which it dons at sunset. The only snag was, that too many fish were caught and I overheard Smab concocting a fish pie. Her fish pies in fact are extremely good with the excellent quality of unrecognizability which is a dark secret of the best chefs, but a young relative of mine was once so scared by the prospect of having to consume one that he went a five hour lonely tramp over the hills of Torridon in order to evade it.
Actually I have got a little out of date. We left Loch Hourn at noon of the 12th and proceeded up the Kyles to Kyle Akin where in heavy showers we waited for Smab's Captain Robert, who however did not appear, so we went down to Totaig of happy memory and spent a quiet night in that miniature but snug anchorage.