The Shiants is that funny group of islands just southeast of Lewis, 8 miles south of Lemreway, 17 east of Harris and 12 miles north of Skye. The owner of the archipelago, Adam Nicholson, has written an excellent book on the isles, and also keeps a very nice website - I have little to add to either of them. It is just one of those places, not unlike St Kilda (still awaiting my footfall) where each island hopper really should have been.
My visit was part of the Islands Book Trust program last June. After Adam Nicholson's talk, which I missed because of the unsurpassed bustimetable for South Lochs, four boats were going to ferry the 110 people (give or take a few) from Lemreway to the Shiants. This started at 11.30 a.m.. Unfortunately, two boats could not be there, due to mechanical problems. So we were left with a 12 man RIB and the Eishken estate boat. Needless to say, it took a while for everybody to be ferried across. A return trip took about 40 minutes. By the time my turn came along, it was 4pm, rain had started and the fog had come down. On the way across, the fog was as dense as peasoup. Something tells me, judging by some pretty large bowwaves that rippled the otherwise glassy sea that we were crossing the path of the QM2, which was heading south as well. Half an hour after leaving Lemreway, the strange shapes of the Shiants loomed up out of the mist. Our group of 11 were put ashore on the narrow isthmus between Eilean Tighe and Eilean Garbh. You can't miss Eilean Garbh: it rises a stupendous 500 feet out of the sea, at an angle of 45 degrees. Earlier arrivals had actually climbed to the summit of the island. I had to contend with scrambling off the little beach onto Eilean Tighe, and making my way to the wee cottage. This was doubling as a hostel for a party of Czech archeologists, commissioned to carry out a dig on the island. The cottage is notorious for its rats, and for having the worst expiry-dates in the Western Isles. Coffee with a best before date of 2001? Hmpf. I made my way to the extreme south of Eilean Tighe, through the fog. Slight problem: the island is surrounded by cliffs, which plummet 250 to 400 feet straight down into the sea, and I was a little disconcerted to find myself at the top of them. On return from the far south, the fog was lifting and the views cleared. The Galtenach, a string of rocky islets to the west of Eilean Garbh, loomed up under the blanket of cloud. When I got back to the cottage, the outlines of the lochs in the Eishken area were visible under the cloud, as was Scalpay (off Harris). It was such a shame that I only had about 2 hours there. But, I still managed to shoot this little collection of pics. For those of you who may never have the chance to go there.
Last week I posted my third entry on the subject of the Lewis Sunday. It appears to be an emotive issue, on which people hold very strong views. That's putting it mildly, by all accounts. The invitation for me and my "heathen friends" to man the ferries, buses and shops on a Sunday was benign, in comparison to the vitriol I have seen strewn about on another messageboard, on precisely this subject. It got so nasty that the administrator of the relevant board deleted the thread concerned after repeated complaints of personal abuse.
I have recently written about the Iolaire disaster. An updated list of names of all those on board HMY Iolaire is now available on the website, link to the right of this entry. I am particularly endebted to Malcolm MacDonald of the Stornoway Historical Society. I can only echo his dismay that such a list was never published in the 87 years since the disaster took place. It would have been so much easier when the survivors were still alive, as well as the families of those grieving for loved ones. The last survivor died in 1992. Some of the stories have been handed down through the years. Even when the final version of the name list comes on-line, in the next week or so, it can never be a definite list. The bodies of many of those who drowned were never found. ]]>
The debate about Sunday sailings across the Sound of Harris has hotted up considerably in recent weeks. In my role as observer, I am writing this with a slightly lopsided smile on my face. Because it's a debate on a background of double standards. 
Now that we're in the last six weeks running up to the Dating Festival at the Fank, I would feel it incumbent upon myself to offer a few words of advice regarding secondary arrangements. 
The weather continues to be interesting this week, after two weeks of flat boredom. The barometer was rusted shut on the 1030 mbar position, although the weather did give rise to some beautiful sunsets, as pictured on several blogs. But today, we're back to Hebridean changeable weather. Heavy showers, bright intervals. The strong winds are expected tonight. After giving the eastern seaboard of the USA a good helping of snow, we can now expect the relevant weather system to give us a good helping of rain and wind. Barometers will be shedding their cobwebs - later in the week, Hebridean instruments will be tipping to the 965 mbar mark. 
With a bit of luck, and providing my reading of the weather charts is correct. I think it's a timely reminder that we are actually nothing against the forces of Mother Nature. People in these islands are only too aware of that, but those cocooned away in airconditioned and heated offices tend to overlook that fact. Until they venture out of doors and get blown off their feet, slide around hopelessly on iced up surfaces and can't see the bonnet of their car for the fog. 
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This saga continues to rumble on and on. The
