Four Go Wild on Isle Martin

Making their way in various ways by various routes, Twister, Eilean Dubh, Sally II and Mollymawk eventually ended up on the Isle Martin pontoon after some pretty rough sailing between Ullapool and Lochinver, nay as far north as Loch Roe (the entrance to which, incidentally, has grown another rock since last visited by the Commodore).

Most leisurely of the four was Sally which made a brisk and boisterous passage from Ullapool direct to the pontoon, there to welcome the intrepid trio and crew of John, Shona, Robin, Donald, Paul and Ali after which some bottles were found.

Here's the proof (and if anyone from the Trust is reading, the cheque's in the post).


As a personal aside, I did feel the island's housing appeared close to terminal dereliction. Windows broken, or missing, weeds and rubbish, cracked walls and an air of desolation. What's missing? People, livestock and the sound of children, of course. People to tend, mend, strim, mow, raise, rear, and cherish the place before it reverts to nature, which some may welcome, of course. I found it rather melancholy, like an abandoned St Kilda.