Nobody knows we are here’
And only CalMac ferry to be sunk or lost. This week, in the first instalment of a fateful night, who tells him the full story, now in print for the first time.
I would get a decent night.
“It was a rough night. It was a force 10 gale. The only reason we were sailing was because it was forecast to improve.
“There was a lot of banging, a lot of noise once we left Barra and got into the Minch. I did not get much sleep after that.
“There was one particularly loud crash, but I just thought it was another thing that had gone wrong. There had been so much that night.
“I had never travelled that route before, in the middle of the Minch, in the middle of a force 10 gale. I just assumed the noises were all about the weather.
“After five to 10 minutes, a crewman said: ‘You had better get up on deck quickly, because we have run aground.’ It was 5.30am. I managed to get partially dressed, but not water proofs. I just had my trousers and jacket on. We were all gathered on deck. There were roughly 13/14 passengers, plus crew. I was half asleep.
“Once they decided everyone was there, they decided to go onto the lifeboats. It was about 6am when we abandoned ship.
It was pitch black.
“There were four lifeboats on the boat. At least three were in the water. We were behind one of the lifeboats. The front boat had an outboard motor. We were being towed by the boat in front, in heavy seas. They headed the boat into the wind to prevent it capsizing, and that was all they could do. We were using the oars just to keep the boat stable.
“We could not do anything. They were open rowing boats, totally exposed to the weather,
Loch Seaforth, aground in Gott Bay, off the Isle of Tiree. and everything that the sea was going to throw at you. One moment you are on the crest of a wave and the next moment at the bottom, and then the next one is on top of you. You could not see anything because the seas were so rough. Beside me was an army sergeant and his wife. She was still in her night clothes. They had just run up without getting any layer of clothing on themselves. There was a stewardess. She was trying to look after a couple of kids. She kept her arms around the children, and tried to shelter them from the spray.
“You do not go through something like that and not be scared, but you are trying to keep the rowing boat on course and afloat. The guy I was sitting next to was the radio operator.
“I asked if an SOS signal went out. He said: ‘No. There was no time.’ The despair kicks in then. Nobody knows we are here.
“There was no sign of the storm abating. We were with a boat heading into the storm, into even deeper water, and
not knowing what was going to happen. None of us knew anything. No conversation was taking place. You could only see what was happening in front of you. It was easier for us to have a conversation between here and Oban than out in the Minch on the boat.
“Everybody has got an oar. You are trying to use it to the best of your ability. If you capsize the boat, that’s it. Everybody is gone. You are wondering if anything you do is going to make any difference.
“Is this it? Are we going to go down? Are we going onto the rocks? Or are we going to get picked up? But the weather is so bad, are they going to be able to do that? The storm did not look like it was abating at all. How is this going to end? There was not much room for optimism. I just put it to the back of my mind.
“At daylight between eight and nine, a fishing boat found us. But we could not transfer onto the fishing boat, because it was so rough. The fishing boat got a line out to the lead boat and began towing us. That took us to Scarinish [on the Isle of Tiree]. It took us over an hour. It was still stormy.”
How did he feel when he reached land? “Sheer relief, at the fact we were OK. It is very hard to describe if you have not been in the situation. It was a very close call. I still cannot believe no one lost their lives.
“We were out there for four hours, in an open rowing boat, in the middle of the Minch, in a force 10 gale, half of that time not knowing if you will be picked up, or if anyone knows anything is wrong.
“We were taken to Scarinish Hotel. There we found out the crew members that had been in the lifeboat were in the hotel before us.” On the open seas, he did not know the fate of that third lifeboat.
“They had seen lights on the island,” John said. “They decided to risk it and went for the beach, knowing there were lots of rocks there. They must have taken a hell of a risk. It is all rock to get to those beaches. You are taking your life into your hands. They found their way onto the beach and to the house, and raised the alarm.
“The Scarinish Hotel took us for a shower, a bath. We were soaked to the skin. There was not a dry part of your body. At 12, I got dry clothes to put on. It was like a scrum with reporters there. How they got there I do not know. CalMac sent out another boat which took us from Tiree to Oban later that evening. My memories of that night were zero - probably a reaction if you are in an accident. It does not register until hours afterwards.
“My car was on that boat. It was a Ford Escort. I can even remember the registration plate. It was brand new. It was a company car. That went down as well. There was TV coverage two or three days after. You could quite clearly see the car bobbing around on deck. I never got the car back. It was scrapped because it spent too long under water.
“I did not take the Lochboisdale to Oban route for another year. I thought I would go back to Tiree. I have a lot of unanswered questions.
“They did not get everyone,” John said.
▍ See next week’s paper for the second part of this dramatic story.
If you want to share your memories of the sinking of the Loch Seaforth with John, or meet up with him on his 50th anniversary trip to Tiree, please contact him via editor@ obantimes.co.uk.