Only silence as the ferries rust in peace
From a distance the Glen Sannox looks stunning but, as we gradually draw closer, the flaws come into focus, writes Peter Swindon.
The once glowing white paint is yellowed with rust and there are deep scars in steel panels. The red paint on the hull also has streaks of rust.
The bulbous bow, which should be smooth for efficient sailing, is a patchwork of flat steel plates. It is due to be cut off, scrapped and replaced.
The rims of portholes are dark with rust and the yellow trails snake down to the huge letters that spell out Glen Sannox. What appears to be windows on the bridge are squares of black paint hastily added before the official launch by First Minister Nicola Sturgeon in 2017.
On the windows that have been fitted there is plastic protection peeling away, which flaps loudly in the harsh winter wind. It is the only sound from the ship, which floats silently on the Clyde at Port Glasgow, salt water lapping at the rusting hull.
There are no workers on the deck but the only sign of industry is the scaffolding on deck and at the stern. There is no welding or hammering.
It is like a ghost ship. The second ferry, Vessel 802, looks like a raised wreck.
It sits quietly on the slipway, unseen from land but visible from the Clyde.
Again, there is no sign of workers, save for three people in bright-orange jackets who appeared to be holding a meeting at the port side.
Scaffolding creeps around the steel structure and bright lights illuminate the inside of the part-built ship – but there is nothing to see. No sparks flying, no clash of hydraulic hammers on rivets. It seems like a shipyard in stasis.