Finding my Family on Iona

Zoonie
Wed 3 Aug 2022 09:01

Finding My Family on Iona

A night in Tinkers Hole, Mull

As Zoonie moved away from the shores around Loch Tarbert the water droplets stopped falling from the end of our noses, patches of blue appeared in the sky, whisps of fog and low cloud scurried away to the east and a good wind allowed us to sail north-westwards towards the grey shadow that was the Ross of Mull. A big island, we were heading for the south west corner where there was a tiny anchorage between Erraid, a jigsaw piece of an island that once upon a time fitted perfectly onto the main island. The gap that exists between is called Tinkers Hole and is a famous Scottish anchorage which is why we wondered if there would be room in there for us.

Colonsay Island lay to our west as we rove away from the sun, and around us we were surrounded by healthy flocks of Guillemots. Sailing wise our beam reach was short lived as the wind was veering and from the northern tip of the island, we had to motor sail. But the sun was out and visibility was excellent as we approached the pink granite of the Ross of Mull.

More eyeball navigation ahead with glances at the screen and we found our way into Tinker’s hole and had the place to ourselves. A semi-submerged rock on the way in has had white water breaking over it for millenia and for us it made it easy to avoid, also the wind was kept away from the area by the surrounding rocky hills to make the passage even easier. We dropped the anchor in the centre so Zoonie would sit over the tidal stream in the middle whichever way it flowed.

Had there been other boats there we would have had to take a line ashore to stop her swinging and I did see one metal mooring ring fixed to a rock and marked by some old pale blue rope, but no one else arrived. Another one of the few photos I regret having missed taking would have been from the land looking over Zoonie in the hole, but the water was swirling around in smooth topped masses the next morning so the underwater goings on and our imaginings put us off. The pictures of surrounding rocks very close to Zoonie are taken there and if you Google ‘Tinker’s Hole’ there are some good ones of yachts in there. What a contrast in size and space to Loch Tarbert, we thought.

We were surrounded by smooth pink granite, which reminded me of the coast of Brittany. The pink granite is thought to be around 420 million years old. I would love to visit Port Ban on Iona (an acronym for Islands Of the North Atlantic) where the rock is amongst the oldest in the world at 2800 – 1700 million years old. This is Lewisian Rock from the Archean period and is also locally found on Coll and Tiree, the NW Highlands and Western Isles.

Usually, I can use Zoonie’s black course line on the chartplotter made on the way in to an anchorage when it comes to leaving, but we were taking a different route out the next morning, turning sharp right before the isolated rock to transit the wide Steamer Passage into the Sound of Iona. Brightly coloured round buoys marking pots can sometimes be very handy to show where the rocks and ledges are, by avoiding them one is clear of the rocks. Also, by continuing the line of the rocks down into the water can give an estimation of depth, but the surest way is as wide a berth as the available space will allow.

We were feeling very fortunate in being able to get anywhere near Iona with Zoonie, in the settled spell we had at the time.

As many of you will know Iona has been a place of religious pilgrimage since the time of St Columba in the sixth century, but mine was a pilgrimage of a different sort.

My cousin once removed on my father’s side, Liz, has lived there for eight years with her husband Alan. I last saw Liz in Worthing when we were both children over sixty years ago, so I wasn’t expecting to recognise her! Their sons, John and Stewart and their daughter Jenny were arriving on the same day with their partners and children for the annual week-long camp in their garden and eleven family members were expected. I hoped it wouldn’t be too much for them for us to coincidentally arrive on the very same day.

Two sea bed cables extend across from the island to Mull just south of the concrete slip and jetty where the ferry docks from Fionnphort on the Mull side and we were to keep clear of all of that plus the numerous moored boats. We tried anchoring in Martyr’s Bay (where for two centuries from the late 8th to 11th century Viking raiders came ashore on one of their many raids to attack the monks and steal valuable items from the abbey) but the sand was too hard and, in the process, we seemed to have picked up one of the cables. Laying it discreetly back down we circled around once again ‘like a dog trying to get comfortable’ said Alan to us later, having seen Zoonie leaving Tinker’s Hole on his Vessel Finder app and now watching our antics from his garden.

We spied a likely looking cylindrical yellow buoy, just like an Irish visitor buoy, (the rare Scottish ones are blue) and I phoned Liz to see if she knew who owned it. A few minutes later, having cycled around to find people who might know, she came back with the news that yachts with similar problems often pick it up, so we then did the same.

Rob rowed us to the beach of Martyr’s Bay, where once the Puffers used to slide onto the hard sand to deliver the island’s supplies, and we carried the dinghy past little piles of clothes belonging to holiday makers relaxing in the warm sunshine in this pristine and beautiful remote place.

I was thrilled beyond measure to meet Liz again. Our family is small, just my brother, Robin and his two sons and my daughter, Emily and her family and cousin Greg, but suddenly I found I had not only Liz but Alan and their three adult children too. What a gift. And for the weather to allow us to bring Zoonie to within five minutes’ walk of their home was just stunning.

We sat for a couple of hours in their delightful garden where it slopes down to the rocky beach facing the Sound, chatting easily and me making sure I didn’t turn this into an interrogation with all my questions. We were aware they had family coming and would be busy setting up camp later. Also, we wanted to be on board Zoonie to see her through the change in tide to ensure she had enough depth of water below her keel on the low of the spring tide.

The depth went down to 1.3 metres so that was good, we could stay the night and so would spend some more time with Liz and Alan and meet the rest of the family. We watched as they drove their little blue car onto the ferry to collect all the camping gear from the family waiting on the other side. Only residents are allowed to have cars on the island, so there is a big car and coach park on the Mull side.

We prepared to return ashore armed with a bottle of wine and an upside-down peach cake I had made for the camp gathering in Liz and Alan’s garden that evening.

 

 

 




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