A COLLEAGUE was worrying about her hair appointment last Saturday – whether she would be able to achieve it or not. This wasn’t because the rules might change and the hairdresser might not be able to open. Up here our shops and hair salons have been open as normally as anything is in these strange times to which we are becoming adjusted. No, this was because she had seen the weather forecast and checked the ferry information site.
It looked like being very gusty with warnings of possible cancellations. One of the problems of uncertain days like that is whether to take the chance of going over and not getting back, or not go and have the irritation of discovering that the ferries sailed as normal.
READ MORE: FMQs: Patrick Harvie quizzes Nicola Sturgeon on Covid Christmas guidance
When we had a storm the other weekend there were no ferries on the Saturday, which meant no post and no papers. And there was a 22-hour power cut as a power line was down and the fixing team couldn’t get over until the following day. People do complain, especially when the problem is a mechanical breakdown rather than the vagaries of the weather. A dear old lady who died a couple of years ago used to say when she heard people moaning that if they didn’t like it they shouldn’t live on an island! This is very true and I try to remember her wise words when I am tempted to complain.
We do rely on our ferries though, and were grateful for the continuing regular service we got during lockdown. Everything of course has to come over on them. The bin lorry, the oil tanker for people’s central heating boilers, workmen, groceries for the shop, bread and milk and post, and twice a week the courier brings the parcels ordered on the internet and bulky stuff like building materials.
READ MORE: Coronavirus Scotland: New Christmas rules explained in full
We are lucky in having two ferries. Apart from the car ferry to Oban there is also an hourly passenger ferry making the short crossing from the north of the island. Covid restrictions mean only four households can travel on the wee ferry at the same time, which means you sometimes stand in the queue on the slip trying to work out who ahead of you might be together and whether you will have to wait for a second trip or can squeeze on the first. In “normal” times the doctor comes over on this ferry for the twice-weekly surgery, but fortunately prescriptions do still travel this way and are collected by volunteers to be picked up at the shop.
In the 19th century there were three ferries. The north end to Port Appin cost 6d each way with cows being 9d each. A ferry went from the south of the island to Mull at a cost of 2s 6d, and even more expensive was the one across to Kingairloch in Movern to the west which was an exorbitant 3s 6d. Before the railways came there was also a steamer that connected Glasgow, Mull, Fort William and Skye and called at Lismore twice a week.
READ MORE: Covid: Nicola Sturgeon urges caution as fears of spike over Christmas loom
As the islanders became gradually less self-sufficient (as more and more land was turned over to sheep and mixed farming declined) and there was a demand for “luxury” goods like tea and sugar, a pier was constructed in 1882 near where the car ferry still goes from. This called every day on its journey between Oban and Fort William, bringing post and manufactured items and taking off eggs and dairy produce.
By 1958 there was a boat twice daily and now we have four sailing to Oban. The first off at 7.45am and the last back at 5.15pm means that high school pupils can choose to travel every day rather than weekly board in the hostel in Oban and it’s also possible to travel over to work. The 7.15am from the north end means that you could, if you have an “off island” car, feasibly travel as far as Fort William, returning on the 6.20pm like any other commuter. Whatever else you might need vet, bank, supermarket, petrol for the car are just a short sail away.
It’s interesting living on such a connected island. To me it feels safe and secure and I like the feeling of there being sea all around and the peace that descends when the last ferry has gone. But when your carefully laid plans are disrupted by wind or tide or technical fault, it’s hard not to look at the mainland to east and west and feel not a little frustrated that it’s so near and yet so far. But then I remember the wise old lady’s words and just shrug and smile ruefully and take my dog for a walk over the cliffs.
Rosemary Barry
Lismore
Why are you making commenting on The National only available to subscribers?
We know there are thousands of National readers who want to debate, argue and go back and forth in the comments section of our stories. We’ve got the most informed readers in Scotland, asking each other the big questions about the future of our country.
Unfortunately, though, these important debates are being spoiled by a vocal minority of trolls who aren’t really interested in the issues, try to derail the conversations, register under fake names, and post vile abuse.
So that’s why we’ve decided to make the ability to comment only available to our paying subscribers. That way, all the trolls who post abuse on our website will have to pay if they want to join the debate – and risk a permanent ban from the account that they subscribe with.
The conversation will go back to what it should be about – people who care passionately about the issues, but disagree constructively on what we should do about them. Let’s get that debate started!
Callum Baird, Editor of The National
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules here