Complete New Tales of Para Handy (12 page)

Such excursions are a distant memory but the gardens at Benmore between the Holy Loch and Loch Eck remain one of Argyllshire's greatest treasures. The millionaire Edinburgh brewing family, the Youngers, gifted the estate to the nation in 1925. As well as being a spectacular attraction and an asset for visitors and locals alike, Benmore — managed nowadays as an adjunct to the Royal Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh — has an outstanding flora and is also a major research station, especially renowned for a rhododendron collection of 250 different species.

The church at Kilmun stands on the site of the oldest Christian foundation in this part of the country, established in the early seventh century by St Munn, an Irish monk who had previously served in the Columban community on Iona.

The present building, completed in 1841, is the third to have been erected on the site looking out across the Holy Loch. It is unusual in many respects, particularly for the way it has been constructed to encompass and shelter, on its north-eastern corner, the mausoleum built in 1795 as the resting-place of the Campbell Dukes of Argyll, whose ancestors used Kilmun as their burial-ground, and most of whose descendants are interred here.

The church is of great beauty and considerable interest: many thousands of visitors come to see it each summer. The stained glass and the woodwork are particularly fine. So is its organ, installed in 1909 and unique in being powered by a hydraulic pump — operated by the local mains water supply — the last such in the country. It is, quite simply, a splendid instrument, the unexpected jewel of a tiny kirk, and one which would not be out of place in any of the larger churches in the land. It was a gift to the congregation from the Youngers of Benmore.

How the organ and all its works was first brought to Kilmun I do not know: but it is perfectly possible that transportation was indeed provided by a puffer, for it could certainly not have arrived in any way other than by sea.

10

Hurricane at the Helm

I
had arrived in Oban by train late one September afternoon on my way to Lochboisdale in South Uist. The MacBrayne steamer
Mountaineer
sets out on the 10 hour crossing three days a week — at 6.00 in the morning. I had reserved a sleeping-berth so that I could pass a comfortable night on board and avoid an unconscionably early rise in the morning, waking instead in time for breakfast as we approached Tobermory.

As I climbed up the gangway from the South Pier I happened to glance across the bay and, to my considerable surprise, saw a familiar but totally unexpected maritime silhouette. So it was that, a short while later, with my baggage safely stowed aboard the paddler, I made my way along an esplanade thronged with a great crowd of visitors enjoying an early evening stroll before dinner, and out onto the town's North Pier.

Para Handy was seated on the hatchcover of the
Vital Spark
with his pipe in one hand and a mug of tea in the other, studying the toes of his boots with apparent interest.

“Good evening, Captain,” I said. “You are about the last person I expected to find in Oban.”

“Well, well,” he said, looking up with a start. “It's yourself then. This writing business must be doing well, eh, if you can afford a nice wee holiday at this time of year? Not that it's any of my business…

“Ah well then,” he continued after a few moments, once he realised that I had no intention of unburdening myself of any confidences about my present financial condition, “yes, we are chust here perambulating aboot the Sound of Mull for a week or thereby. The owner has got a contract to tak' in the winter coals to some lighthooses and so here we are.

“I wish I could offer you something but would you credit there iss nothing on the shup…”

It was not too difficult to persuade the Captain to join me in making the short journey to the bar of the Argyll Hotel.

“This iss not familiar watters for the
Vital Spark
,” he said a few minutes later as we settled to a table near the fire, “but I have Hurricane Jeck with us on this trup and it iss certainly familiar to him.”

I remarked that I had not been aware that that intrepid mariner had had much experience in the islands trade.

“Cot bless you, yes” said Para Handy. “For aboot eight months he wass aal over the Hebrides for Mr MacBrayne, chust after his spell as master of the clupper
Port Jackson
.

“Jeck had a hankerin' to settle doon, for that wass the time he wass walkin' oot wi' the widow MacLachlan from Oban, before the problem he had at the Gleska Mull and Iona Soiree, Concert and Ball wi' her and Lucy Cameron.

“Nothin' worked oot for him, he had the very duvvle's own luck ass usual, he lost the gyurl and then he lost the shup and in chust a matter of months he wass back goin' foreign again, this time on the
Dora Young
.”

I indicated that I would be more than interested in the story by calling for the Captain's glass to be refilled.

“It wass this way,” he continued, sniffing the amber liquid with some satisfaction. “Mr MacBrayne took him on ass skipper on the
Handa
when she wass on the Oban to Tiree service.

“You'll mind she wiss aal hold, very broad in the beam and she carries only a couple o' dozen passengers, but Jeck ran her ass if she wass the
Columba
and his manners wass that sublime that folk thocht it a rare preevilege chust to be allowed on board the shup.

“Wheneffer Jeck took the pier at Tobermory he'd be oot on the wing o' the brudge, wi' his kep on three hairs and wi' a cheery wave for aal the world. When he had docked her he wud sweep off the kep wi' a most dapper bow to the gyurls on the quayside and it soon wass that the maist o' the weemenfolk o' Tobermory wud come doon each mornin' chust to waatch the
Handa
berthin'.

“It wassna chust his manners that wass sublime, it wass his cheneral agility ass well. Ass he came into Tobermory Bay he'd be leanin' maist elegant ower the enchine-room telegraph on the wing o' the brudge, and he'd run her in at full speed, headin' straight for the pier, and leave it till the very last moment afore he'd ring doon for full speed astern, and caal to the helmsman to birl the wheel, and lay her alangside ass delicate ass if she wass an egg.

“It wass a performance that became namely wi' visitors ass weel and efter a month or two of Jeck bein' on the run the pier wass bleck wi' folk each mornin' aal come to see the show. And he wass that dapper, and such a perfect chentleman, that it wass a preevilege to watch it aal, though Jeck's critics (maist of them ither captains who was chust jealous for his success) said he wud get his come-uppance wan o' these days.

“You probably ken that the
Handa
is no chicken. She wass built in 1878 at Port Gleska, and ass the years went on she has needed mair and mair upkeep.

“That wass Jeck's undoin'. Wan mornin' he wass oot on the wing of the brudge ass usual, waitin' till the last meenit to ring for full power astern, and when he chudged the last meenit had come and pulled on the telegraph lever, did the dam' thing no come awa' in his hands, the base of it aal rusted to nothin', and wi' the force o' the pull Jeck went tumblin' backwards doon the brudge ladder and landed sprauchled oot on the main deck.

“It wass aal of a half-meenit afore the folk on the pier realised that the
Handa
wassna goin' to pull up in time that mornin' and there wass wan richt clamjamfrey ass they aal struggled to get out o' the path of the shup!

“She rammed the pierhead bow first, and embedded hersel' eight feet into it! It wass two days afore they could get her pulled oot and two weeks till the pier wass fully repaired!”

“Mr MacBrayne would be none too pleased,” I ventured.

“He wass really quite reasonable,” said the Captain. “It had to be admutted that if the telegraph-handle had stayed in the wan piece the accident would never have happened, so part of the blame had to be wi' the shup.

“Forbye, the reputation o' the man had reached Gleska and the clerks in the Heid Office wass able to see that the
Handa
wass earnin' more money than ever for Mr MacBrayne, what wi' aal the folk thinkin' it wass a privilege to sail wi' sich a chentleman for Captain.

“So while the
Handa
wass awa' bein' repaired, Mr MacBrayne made Jeck First Officer on the
Flowerdale
on the Outer Isles service. Though she wassna his own command, she wass a much bigger shup wi' a lot o' prestige, and Jeck took to her to the manner born.

“Pretty soon he wass enchoyin' the same sort of reputation wi' the
Flowerdale
in Castlebay ass wi' the
Handa
in Tobermory. She used to lie over at Barra from six in the evening till early the followin' mornin' and Jeck wass aye welcome in the hooses in Castlebay, for he wass a fine cheerie chap and carried a perty aboot wi' him whereffer he went. There wass many a gyurl in Castlebay had her kep set on Jeck but he wass havin' too mich of a spree to be thinkin' o' settlin' doon, and mony's the hert he broke in the months that followed.

“The trouble came at the year's end. The
Flowerdale
tied up at Castlebay on Hogmanay evenin' and since she wassna sailin' till fower o'clock next mornin' Jeck went ashore to tak' a ne'erday dram or two with a wheen o' his Barra friends. He took the enchineers wi' him, for Jeck wass aye verra considerate of the boys who made possible aal the speed he could get oot o' the shup, and aal the manoeuvrability she had, for Jeck could turn her on a postage stamp, her havin' two propellers.

“He could caal for full astern port, full ahead starboard, and spin her roon' in her ain length like a peerie in a close. Jeck took great pleasure in showin' his agility wi' the shup and it's a good thing that Captain McKissock was fast asleep in his cabin when Jeck wass in cherge, for he wass a true chentleman of the old school and would not have looked kindly on Jeck's high-jinks and cheneral frivolity.

“Onyway, that Hogmanay nicht, Jeck and the enchineers got back on board chust before sailing time. Jeck wass in fine trum, but he could carry his dram like a chentleman and nobody wud have known it. The enchineers wass feelin' no pain either, but since they were oot o' sight o' the cheneral public it didna really matter what they looked like.

“Jeck headed for the brudge, the enchineers for their control room, and at fower o'clock off they set like hey-ma-nanny for Coll and Tiree.

“For more than three hoors
Flowerdale
tore through the watter like a greyhound, Jeck hummin' a whole repertaree of Gaelic song to himsel' in the wheelhouse and the helmsman on watch tap-tappin' the time wi' his feet.

“Chust gone half past seven in the mornin', wi the dawn comin' up fast over the hills of Ardnamurchan, Jeck wass connin' her into the bay at Arinagour on Coll at near on 18 knots, a beautiful sight for the folk launchin' the passenger flit-boat aff the beach, as the shup came hurtlin' roon' the headland wi' a rake on her like Jeck's kep on a Setturday night.

“The lads in the flit-boat had seen the sheer poetry and drama o' Jeck's arrivals at Arinagour often enough in the past weeks but it wass aalways an impressive performance. He wud head her straight for the beach and wait till the very last possible moment on the brudge wing afore he rang doon for full astern port, full ahead starboard, and spun her roond in her length and dropped the anchor.

“He wass determined to get the New Year aff wi' a bang and he hung on and on, draped casual across the brudge wing and never movin', till even the boys in the flit-boat began to get anxious: but then he snapped to like a sodger, rang his instructions to the enchine room, and gave the flit-boat a smert naval salute.

“And nothin' happened. She kept racin' for the beach at a good 18 knots. Jeck rang and better rang on the telegraph till he wass near demented, but there wass neffer a cheep frae doon below.

“He ran into the brudge-hoose and grabbed the wheel, and spun it desperate-like to starboard to try and steer the
Flowerdale
oot the bay. It wass too late. She had too much pace and he had too little space to mak' it work, and he ran her straight onto the sandbar at the eastern headland at full speed. Mercifully it wass a chentle slope, and she slowed doon ass sweetly ass if she wass under control. Nobody wass hurt and there wass no real damage to the hull, either. But they had to wait three days before the tides wass right for the
Fusilier
and the
Chevalier
to be able to tow her back into deep water.

“By that time, Jeck wass lookin' for another chob.

“Tuppical of the man's ill-fortune. You wud have thocht it wass
his
fault, the way MacBrayne treated him.

“It wass the enchineers should have got the seck. There wassna a man jack o' them sober doon below. There wassna wan o' them awake either, come to that. They'd all had mair nor they could tak' at Castlebay, and they wass aal fast asleep in the enchine room. Jeck could huv rung the telegraph till he wass black in the face!