The Small Isles

We waited for a favorable tide to set through the Sound of Mull before leaving Oban around 2:30 p.m., Sunday, July 31^st. Shortly, we crossed south of Lismore Island and experienced our first flirt with tidal races.

Sort of like running a huge rapid, races occur when the tidal stream is squeezed through a narrow channel or falls over an undwater cliff. The result is fast moving water at the surface and sometimes some impressive standing waves.

Fortunately, the flow was headed our way and Windleblo ran the race like a kayak, bobbing and weaving through the three knot current. The dinker, however, didn’t fare as well, getting shoved around as we towed her behind.

We got through to the big eddy, no harm, no foul, and continued on our way under leaden skies and a following breeze. Wing-on-wing, we moved toward Tobermory at a five knot pace.

Arriving there, we took a mooring for the night. Next morning, we dinghied ashore to take in the sights in this quaint town, the cultural center of the Isle of Mull. A museum visit, grocery top up, and latte stop later, we returned to Windleblo to catch the flood tide north. The weather continued classic Scottish – cool and on-and-off damp.

Winds calm, we motored around Ardnamurchan Point, which was just as well. This area can be particularly nasty when Atlantic rollers combine with strong tidal currents in unsettled weather. We skated by quite nicely under engine power toward our first Small Isle – Muck.

Kind of like last season when I had to see the Gulf of Bothnia just because it sounds like a cool place, we had to go to Muck because of its name. Ever since I learned of the island’s existence when aboard the Mahina Tiare III in 2008, I wondered what it was like. Now, I would find out.

Muck is the smallest of the Small Isles, only about two miles long by one mile wide. The official population? Thirty-eight people. Once anchored in the south harbor, we rowed ashore for a look around.

We first came across a small green building with a sign inviting us inside. It read, “Welcome to The Green Shed, Hand Made Gifts from the Isle of Muck, Please Come in and Look Around, Open 24 Hours a Day, 7 Days a Week.”

We entered to find the premises unattended, with instructions on using an honesty box to pay for one’s selections. Knitware, jewelry, candles, soaps, woven rugs, lithographed cards, and all manner of hand-made crafts adorned the walls and shelves. A selection of freshly harvested vegetables rounded out the inventory.

Our exploration continued with a walk across the island on what appeared to be the island’s only road, a two track paved affair that wound through unforested pastureland. Along the way, we were greeted by two bicyclists, three walkers, and about 180 sheep.

We did an about face at the north harbor and retraced our steps to the boat where Emily cooked us a vegetable medly over couscous. We retired shortly thereafter as the tides demanded an early call the next morning.

Weighing anchor by 0800, we were helped by the tidal stream as we beat north in 10 knot winds to our next Small Isle – Rum (pronounced “room”). Very different from Muck, Rum is the largest Small Isle and the tallest, with peaks reaching 2,665 feet.We anchored in Loch Scresort, the island’s only sheltered cove.

After lunch, we dinghied ashore to explore. A short walk into our exploration, we encountered Kinloch Castle. Sitting at the head of Loch Scresort, the castle took three years to build, starting in 1897, and some 300 craftsman were employed. Construction was financed by the Bullough family, the island’s owners before it was acquired by the Scottish Natural Heritage in 1957 to be maintained as a nature preserve.

We found a tea room in the island community center and enjoyed some tea and cakes. Emily and Jocelyn settled in for a few rounds of Bananagrams while I walked a nature trail through Kinloch Glen.

Returning to Windleblo around 5, we dined on roast pork, apples, and potatoes prepared by Jocelyn. Tomorrow, we head further north to the island of Skye.