Complete New Tales of Para Handy (68 page)

“Dan or Dougie will tell you aal aboot it.”

But Macphail was busy in the engines and Dougie, off watch, was catnapping in the fo'c'sle so with a little persuasion, once he had his pipe going to his satisfaction, Para Handy told the tale.

“It aal happened twelve years ago chust a matter of a few weeks after the shup had been launched, and we were on the very first trup wi' her ootside Ardlamont Point. We'd had a few teething problems. The cargo hatch wass letting in watter at the fore end and we'd had to have some of the deck planks caulked, the steam-winch wass the very duvvle to get sterted, the shaft wass leakin' oil and the biler wass apt to prime. But over the piece we got aal this set to rights.

“Worst of aal, though, wass that after less than a week the steam whustle broke doon and the same day that happened, while we wass laid up wan night in Bowling Harbour, somebody stole the stern lamp on us while we wass ashore takin' a refreshment.

“Well, I wassna goin' to risk the vessel in the river without the lamp. We do chust occasionally meet up wi' a shup wi' a better turn o' speed than the
Vital Spark
, Jum, and because of that it iss chust a sensible precaution to be showing a light astern at night. And it would have been madness to sail without a steam whustle, for how would we let a slower shup know we wass preparin' to pass her” — here Para Handy totally ignored the exaggerated snort of derision emanating from the engine-room at his feet — “or cope wi' fog on the Firth?

“Ass luck would have it, there wass an old steamer in the basin at Bowling, waiting' her turn to go into McCulloch's bone-yerd to be broken up for scrap. Sorley McCulloch owed me a few favours for aal the bags of coal he had from me over the years for what the owner doesna see willna hurt him, and I am a great believer in havin' frien's in effery port in the river, for you never ken when you might need them: so Sorley didna tak' mich persuasion to let me have the stern lamp and the steam whustle off the old shup.

“The lamp wass fine, a wheen bigger than we really needed, and set on a higher sternpost than wir ain, but she gave oot a most spendid illumination and there wass no chance of us bein' run doon in the derk if any shup comin' up astern of us should happen to have the pace to overtake the vessel.

“It was the steam whustle that wass the real cracker! Aal solid brass you could see your face in wance the boy had her polished to rights. It wass designed for a shup many times bigger than the
Vital Spark
and when you gi'ed her a blaw, for a stert you dam' near drained oot aal the steam from Macphail's biler tubes and you sure as bleezes put the fear o' daith in whateffer shup you wass passin', or the harbour-master and the longshoremen at whateffer pier it wass that you wass comin' into. We soonded like the
Campania
.

“I tell you we had some high-jinks the next week or two! When Dougie was at the helm, he chust couldna resist blawin' the whustle at any excuse at aal and Dan got real vexed wi' him. It wassna chust playin' havoc wi' his steam pressure, it wass fair dingin' his hearin' wi' the noise o' the blasts. Worse, since he neffer knew from wan moment tae the next chust when Dougie would take it into his heid to let her go, and since he was aye hunkered doon wi' his nose buried in wan o' his penny novelles, he lost coont o' the number o' times that he got sich a fleg when the whustle went aff that he jumped up and banged his heid on the deck beams in the enchine-room.

“If Dougie was here he would tell you himself…

“It wass two weeks efter the new lamp and whustle wass put on the vessel that they really proved their value, but that wass also the occasion when we fell foul o' McIver in the
Grenadier
.

“We wass on the same trup we are today — from the Broomielaw to Tarbert wi' a load o' salt. The dufference wass that, wance we had discharged the cargo, we wass to go up to Lochgilphead for a ferm flittin' that wass to be took over to Otter Ferry on the other side o' Loch Fyne.

“You ken yoursel' what Loch Gilp is like, chust a great spread o' mudflats at onythin' less than half-tide, the toon itself standin' at the heid o' the shallowest stretch o' watter on the river, worse even than the Holy Loch. Of course, that's why Mr MacBrayne's terminal is at Ardrishaig three miles sooth, for there's no right pier at Lochgilphead. A steamer couldna come near it even at high watter. There iss chust a jetty for the likes o' the local fishin' smacks and even the
Vital Spark
couldna get alongside it. We would have to beach offshore at half-tide and the flittin' would be brought alongside on cairts.

“Well, we lay overnight at Tarbert after we'd unloaded the salt, and went ashore to peruse the neebourhood, ass you might say. But we were back on board early. Hurricane Jeck was no' wi' us, ye'll understand. There wass chust me and Dan and Dougie and a young laddie caaled Campbell, the sowl, and him from Fort Wulliam tae. He couldna help that either, the puir duvvle, but they're awful Hielan' roon' aboot Fort Wulliam.

“The thing wass we had to be up sherp in the mornin' to take on some coal for oor ain bunkers — the owner had some sort of an arranchement wi' wan o' the Tarbert merchants. What herm the owner had ever done him I dinna ken, but it really didna bear thinkin' aboot when you saw the quality and quantity o' stanes we wass takin' on. We wanted to be away by eleven at the latest if we were to get to Loch Gilp at the right time o' the tide ready to pick up the flittin'.

“Ass it wass it wass half past eleven afore we nosed oot o' the harbour. The Inveraray Company's
Lord of the Isles
wis chust on the point o' pullin' awa' from the main steamer pier, efter loadin' up an excursion party for Ardrishaig and Inveraray, and it wouldna be long before the MacBrayne steamer frae Gleska was due to arrive on passage to Ardrishaig. Indeed ass we headed north we saw the
Grenadier
comin' thunderin' up the Loch from the sooth, wi' McIver standin' oot on the wing o' the brudge and tryin' to look important. The man neffer had the presence for it, but then when you had wance seen Hurricane Jeck tak' a shup into a pier, onythin' else wass chust a let-doon.

“Though it wass a bright sunny day when we set off, within chust ten minutes we had run into a dark fog-bank that wass that thick, you could have cut it up intae blocks wi' a knife and sold it as briquettes.

“I tell you it wass me wass relieved we had the new sternlight for I knew fine the
Lord of the Isles
wass in our wake, and I didna fancy suddenly findin' her chust a few feet aff oor rudder and lookin' for a right-o'-passage. Dougie lit the lamp and raised it ass high ass he could up the stern-post, I put the laddie up into the bows wi' a bell tae ring to let us ken if he saw or heard onythin' ahead, and we picked oor way up the loch.

“Sure enough, in due course we heard the whoop o' a steamer's whustle dead astern and efter a few meenits we could chust mak' oot the foremast lights and the navigation lights of a shup. It wass the
Lord of the Isles
sure enough. I gave a quick blast on oor ain whustle effery noo and then to mak' sure she knew we wass there, but wi' the illumination o' the new stern lamp there wass no doubt she had seen us. She held her position for a half-an-hour and then we saw her lights swing off to port, and she picked her way in to Ardrishaig pier a mile or so away.

“Ten minutes later, and there came a whustle blast immediately astern again, a kind o' a signal maybe — two shorts, a long and two shorts again.

“ ‘I canna think who this is,' said I to Dougie, ‘but we'd best let him ken we're here.' And I blasted oot the same tattoo on our own new whustle.

“The unseen shup gave the signal back, so we replied again. He whustled. We whustled. I tell you there wass some din on the Loch that mornin', Macphail put his heid oot o' his cubby and said a few un-Chrustian things, but if this unknown shup wass that close astern o' us — despite the bright lamp that he could surely see — then I certainly wass not goin' to risk the vessel by keepin' quiet.

“Occasionally we could mak' oot the masthead light of whatever shup it was that wass followin' us, and at times even the loom o' her bows when the fog lifted for a moment.

“ ‘I dinna like this at aal, Dougie,' I said. ‘She's too close for my likin'.

“ ‘Neffer mind Peter,' says he. ‘We are certainly well into Loch Gilp by now and if we chust swing to starboard and anchor, then she can go where she wants, and we can bide our time till the fog lifts.'

“I put the wheel hard to starboard with a final, long blast on the big whustle, shouted on Dan to stop the enchines, and sent Dougie for'ard to let go the anchor.

“And three things happened aal at wance.

“First, we ran oot of the fog-bank ass suddenly ass we had run into it, and there were the white hooses of Lochgilphead chust a mile ahead.

“Next, from our port quarter came a desperate, furious clang on an enchine-room telegraph ringin' and ringin' ass if somebody's life depended on it.

“Last, from the same direction there wass a most awful grinding sound like steel on stone, and the ear-spluttin' crash of falling objects, breaking glass, and smashing crockery, splintering wud and so on, that seemed to go on and on for effer. When it did stop, their wass such a racket of cries and shouts and screams — and curses too — that you would swear that the day of chudgement had come to Loch Fyneside.

“When I turned to see what the commotion wass, here wass the bow half — no more — of a big shup pokin' oot o' the fog. She had run herself fast aground on the Loch Gilp shallows and I could mak' oot her name quite plain. It wass the
Grenadier
.

“Dougie and me unshipped the punt, and rowed over to see if we could help. But the paddler wass fast aground on an ebbing tide and she'd be where she was for seven or eight hoors till the sea came back.

“McIver was leaning over the brudge-wing chust beside himself and bleck in the face wi' rage.

“ ‘Macfarlane,' he bellowed wance he recognised us. ‘Where the bleezes did you get thon lamp, and thon dam' whustle? Are ye oot o' yer mind completely pittin' gear like that in a steam gabbart?

“ ‘Ah wis followin' ye because Ah thocht ye wis the
Lord of the Isles
and I thocht ye wis pickin' intae Ardrishaig. No' intae this — this — this
sump
,' he howled as he saw the Loch Gilp mud-flats, which were quickly dryin' oot as the tide went doon.

“The owner heard aal aboot it and made me get rid o' the bonny new lamp and the braw big whustle. But I'd had good value oot o' them. There's no' another skipper on the Clyde can boast o' havin' personally grounded wan o' Mr MacBrayne's most treasured possessions — when he wassna even on board of her!

“In aal fairness Jum, I dinna grudge poor McIver a few sausages cowped on our deck. I cowped mair than that on his!”

F
ACTNOTE

Lochgilphead indeed never did have a steamer pier, for the head of the shallow loch was quite inaccessible to vessels of any size. The town was served by Ardrishaig, whose commodious pier also marked the staging post for passengers proceeding on to Oban and the Western Highlands by way of the Crinan Canal, this being the eastern point of entry to that waterway.

MacBrayne's
Grenadier
was a handsome, clipper-bowed paddler launched in 1885. For most of the year she was based at Oban but she became a regular replacement for the
Columba
on the Glasgow to Ardrishaig service during the off-peak months. Her end was dramatic and tragic — destroyed by fire at Oban pier in 1927 in one of the very few incidents involving Clyde or West Highland steamers which resulted in loss of life, in this case her Captain and two of her crew. As far as I know
Grenadier
was never aground, but her predecessor
Mountaineer
stranded in fog on rocks lying off Lismore near the entrance to the Sound of Mull and, though passengers and crew were taken off without any problems, she became a total loss.