The Iolaire of Iona
Of all the ships who’ve sailed the sea and crossed the oceans blue The Argonaut, The Cutty Sark, the graceful QE2, The Vital Spark or Noah’s Ark, there’s none that can compare There’s none with line so strong and fine as Iona’s Iolaire.
1990 was the year that first she surface broke Forty five by sixteen feet of larch on solid oak A ship as grand from John Gaff’s hand as any ship could be From stern to stem a varnished gem of beauty on the sea. From Girvan where her planks were laid she sailed north, homeward bound. With pride the skipper steamed her up Iona’s bonny Sound. She joined the fine Kirkpat- rick fleet beside the Silver Spray. From then till now her stately prow has graced St Ronan’s Bay. In ’ 92 still fine and new came change in her command Passed from Uncle David to his nephew’s steady hand A fisherman of great regard, a man of high renown And now for 15 years has Davy worn the skipper’s crown.
Tramping back and forth to Staffa’s wild majestic coast The finest ship on which to sail with yet a finer host. On days the sea makes others flee, tie up with ease she will With powerful Perkins Sabres and with Davy’s careful skill.
When weather’s poor and form’s bad and wind has blown wave And you’re steaming round the corner and approaching Fingal’s Cave There’s not a sound to bring you round or sight so welcome there As Davy on the VHF and seeing the Iolaire.
Or seeing her ride at anchor when she’s moored up in the sound. A symbol of the welcome and the friendship to be found. In the house with yellow window-sills that lights this Sacred Isle That’s filled with Davy’s mischief and with Carol’s magic smile.
This boat has led a life as rich as any boat’s could be. Knows both the hardships and the bounties borne by the sea. So world wide let’s show our pride, raise glasses in the air And drink a toast to Davy and the noble Iolaire.