OUTER HEBRIDES
Home to the world’s only beach airport, tales of whisky salvage and unforgettable sailing, Barra is the perfect base to explore the Outer Hebrides, says Jonty Pearce
Barra is the perfect base from which to explore these stunning islands, says Jonty Pearce
It is around the coast where Barra shines, offering some of the most spectacular sailing in the Hebrides
There is always something thrilling about watching the far-off peaks of Barra and neighbouring South Uist gradually solidifying into recognisable landscapes as the distant land is approached. Aboard the charter Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 42i, Ab Fab, we played a guessing game of which mirage was which island until Barra’s 295m Grianan summit was identified. Perched near the southernmost end of the 100-mile-long Outer Hebrides chain, Barra has long been famed for its beauty. Adorned with white beaches, lonely moors, isolated lochans and soaring hills, the island offers a great centre from which to explore this remote part of Scotland. Its main harbour, Castlebay, is dominated by the imposing Kisimul Castle, the stronghold of Clan Macneil, which sits on top of the rocky Bágh a’ Chaisteil islet.
Canna in the Small Isles is generally regarded as a sensible, secure harbour to await good conditions for crossing the Sea of the Hebrides to Barra, and we had followed this sage advice. Luckily the weather favoured our Penguin Cruising Club trip. Dawn was just breaking as we slipped our mooring in Canna Harbour; initially we were hard put to see if our companion yachts were awake, but then reassuringly they followed us like fledgling ducks past the harbour’s leading lights as the sky brightened.
We skirted the island’s northern coast, not totally trusting the ship’s compass as we traversed waters renowned for magnetic deviation derived from the iron in Canna’s appropriately named Compass Hill. As we sailed on westwards, the sun rose over the silhouette of Morvern’s mountains, and Skye and
its Cuillin range slipped by on our starboard quarter, lit by a soft amber light of dawning. Forcing our eyes forward we searched the east for the first sight of Barra, our destination, some 35 miles away.
The sea state was slight and the southwesterly wind gentle, so we hunkered down with bacon sandwiches and hot coffee in the warmth of Ab Fab’s sprayhood to tease the unsheltered helmsman. A snort alongside announced the presence of a pod of dolphins, which immediately attracted the crew’s full attention. As they eventually finned for the horizon, talk naturally turned to boats. It was in these waters in 1941 that the SS Politician, loaded with 264,000 bottles of malt whisky, was shipwrecked in fog. The subsequent ‘rescue’ of her cargo formed the basis of the author Compton Mackenzie’s book and film Whisky Galore. The locals of Barra and Eriskay, suffering the privations of wartime rationing and whisky drought, formed illicit ‘salvage parties’. The men even donned their wives’ old dresses in order to avoid their own clothes becoming stained with incriminating ship’s oil as they played cat and mouse with the excise men. How many bottles were actually ‘saved’ is unknown, but secret stashes have been known to turn up, and individual bottles have sold for up to £6,000.
Our own passage was bathed in warm sunlight, so we left Eriskay safely to starboard, parted from Barra by the shallow, rocky and navigationally challenging Sound of Barra. Castlebay’s approach is well signposted with navigational aids for the benefit of the ferry traffic; we identified the outlying south cardinal mark of Bo Vich Chuan before following three pairs of marks that guided us into the anchorage where the village, with its stone cottages, castle, and pier front Barra’s capital. We headed for the recently opened Castlebay Marina, which has 28 visitor berths.
After the long day sail our crews were eager for some rest and recreation time, not ignoring the opportunity to sample the temptations on offer
from the shops and bars. For a relatively small island, Barra has much to offer; visits to the castle and other historic sites, including the abandoned Balnabodach village. There is plenty of spectacular walking and for wildlife lovers, the seal colony at the appropriately named Seal Bay.
Barra is also home to the only beach airport in the world to be used for scheduled airline services. If you anchor at North Bay and walk towards Traigh Mhòr bay you can watch the Twin Otter planes landing. Posts in the sand mark the three runways, which are washed clean by the tide. But it is around the coast where Barra really shines, offering some of the most spectacular sailing in the Hebrides.
While it is just a short sail to neighbouring Eriskay, we opted for a sail south to the Bishop’s Isles, an archipelago of rocks and islands lying to the south of Barra. The larger islands Berneray, Mingulay, Pabbay, Sandray are now deserted, while Vatersay’s settlement of Caolas is the westernmost permanently inhabited place in Scotland. Rather than retracing our steps back out to sea round Muldoanich, we took the narrow but deep Fisherman’s Passage. Leaving Castlebay we passed south of Sgeir Dubh on the Rubha Glas beacon leading line, turning south when Sgeir Dubh’s bearing was 335° to pass Snuasimul close to port; the channel is narrowed by rocks to a width of only 50m and we all held our breath as we passed through. We were rewarded when we spotted the white sands and azure sea of Vatersay Bay sparkling in the sunshine. We dropped the anchor and sat on deck, basking in the warm sunshine, mirroring the few seals which had hauled themselves out onto land. Replenished by a cup of tea, we continued on our way to Mingulay, making sure we gave good clearance to the islands of Sandray and Pabbay once we had left Vatersay Bay. Six small peaks and dramatic steep-to west-facing cliffs signalled we were approaching Mingulay.
We sailed to the island’s eastern side where we anchored and then beached the dinghy on the white sandy beach. Swell can make coming ashore tricky but luckily the conditions were ideal. Once inhabited, Mingulay is now home to a plethora of seabirds. We walked around the eerie ruins of a former islander’s home; just its four walls still standing. Back on the beach we ate lunch under the watchful eye of several razorbills before returning to the boat and weighing anchor for our return to Castlebay, surely the perfect gateway to the rest of the Hebrides.
A great centre from which to explore this remote part of Scotland