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In Our Own Words...
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RETURN FROM IONA by Donald Nelson
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The Colmcille, a 37ft Curragh was built in Dingle, Kerry,
and launched at Easter. On 9th June this year, it left
Derry on a pilgrimage with a crew of 12 rowers to commemorate
the voyage of St. Colmcille/Columba who died 1400 years
ago. Now five weeks later a new crew went to Iona to bring
her home. Donald Nelson continues the story………
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Friday 25th July
One week after the pre-voyage briefing we met at Portrush
harbour at 7.30 pm. I decided a night crossing might be
calmer. Often on a summer evening the wind dies away and
so it did, this time. This was a new crew except for myself
as skipper and Jim Allen. I took my son John as navigator
and my reserve, an essential member of the crew as we
found on the outward voyage to Iona. Instead of going
over in the comfort of the motor cruiser as arranged (but
which was no longer available) we loaded our watertight
plastic barrels and gear into an open fishing boat, not
the easiest place to sleep. Arriving at 4.00am we shattered
the dawn silence with our exhaust noise.
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Saturday 26th July
The next morning a breakfast of porridge and toast was
very welcome in the Abbey refectory; then it was back
to the harbour to stow our gear in the ‘child’s
hut’ belonging to the Abbey. The curragh was extracted
from its cramped position in the boat house, and launched
using our inflatable rollers. We made a test run to Staffa
five miles to the North, landed, and had a look at Fingal’s
cave. While most of the crew were ashore she grounded
on the falling tide, but because of the flexibility of
the canvas and lathe hull she sustained no damage, apart
from a broken oar, which had been used as a lever.
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Sunday 27th July
On the Sunday after breakfast of porridge and toast in
the Abbey we loaded the barrels and gear into the curragh,
which was hauled out on the beach. Then at 10.30am we
went back to the Abbey for morning service at which I
was asked to speak to the congregation. The first hymn
was,
‘Jesus calls us to each other,found in him are no
divides,
race and class and sex and language.’
I said, I thought that these words exemplified our mixed
crew and also the majority of people in the North of Ireland.
I found it a very moving experience to speak to a packed
Abbey. A very poignant sermon was preached by John Harvey,
a previous leader of the Iona community;
‘Who are we, what are we doing, why are we here?’
A question that was repeated frequently during the course
of the voyage home!
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At 12.30 pm we made our farewell, on the crowded beach,
and as we boarded the boat each of us inadvertently took
some Iona sand on our feet, a constant reminder of our
pilgrimage. We rowed past the Ross of Mull within an oar’s
length of the rocky shore, in perfect weather. At Rubh
Ardalmaish Point we set sail and for 8 miles lazily drifted
down the coast. An inquisitive inflatable came out and
they photographed the curragh under sail, with our cameras.
We rowed to the Garvellacks where St Columba’s mother
lived, near enough to be useful, far enough to be out
of the way. What an awkward, rocky place it was with no
safe mooring, a few went ashore briefly to see the beehive
huts. It was 8.30pm and a fair wind so the sails were
goose-winging and a course was set for Easdale, where
we arrived at 11pm in the dark. Within minutes locals
appeared offering us accommodation, ‘The Hall, the
pub, the restaurant’ Fiona called from her bed, opened
the restaurant, moved the tables to give us sleeping space
on the floor, and let us use the kitchen and toilets.
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Monday 28th July
The next day locals along with Jim, Kathryn and Dan gave
us an impromptu Ceilidh on the pier. We were excited with
the prospect of a strong tide through the Cuan sound,
but we were too early for the full tide. We stopped to
rest at Toberonochy and found a notice saying, ‘MEET
DONALD NELSON AND THE CREW OF THE COLMCILLE AT CULLIPOOL
TONIGHT’- but we were a day ahead and had to go on.
Off Shuna Point a fishing boat changed course and came
alongside. The skipper shouted across, ‘Which is
Donald Nelson’. It was Hugh McQueen, whom I had hoped
to meet at Cullapool. He understood we had to go when
the weather allowed, (the forecast was force 8 with rain)
we must be in the Crinnan Canal tomorrow.
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David Clough from Kilmartin House, Dunadd, had offered
to meet us and put us up for the night and he was down
with a mini bus within half an hour of our arrival. All
we needed was our bedding and some food. He supplied the
rest including a beer all round. Kilmartin House is a
newly opened museum, all the work of David and his wife,
and it is just about the best I have seen, its design,
layout, audio visuals - it is a triumph for free enterprise.
It lies within a fascinating area for archaeology for
Dunadd was the Seat of the Kings of Dalriada who ruled
North Ulster and SW Scotland as one Kingdom, and who gave
Colmcille the island of Iona.
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Tuesday 29th July 8am
The following day we were the first boat into the canal
but were not allowed to row. We did not even have to ask,
the next boat ‘Cracker’ in from St Kilda offered
us a tow. The forecast was correct, the wind increased,
with heavy rain all day. No overnight arrangements had
been made for Ardrishaig and the canal Office tied up
their phone for about half an hour trying to contact someone.
Eventually, although he Minister was away, we got into
the Church Hall and with the heat turned on full we quickly
dried out. It calmed in the evening but the forecast was
bad for Wednesday.
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Wednesday 30th July
Wind NW 4-5: we were the first out of the canal and we
hugged the coast almost too close at times, passing inside
rocks close to the shore. It’s marvellous what you
can do with only nine inches draught. Yachts, out in the
open, were reefed right down and still lying over, it
was blowing 5 and gusting 6, and the rain was continuous.
As we rounded Barimone Head the wind tried to push us
backward. I had both feet on the gunwale holding the steering
oar. I was horizontal then the handle broke. The reserve
crew put his back to it. Norman the Chief Stroke yelled
at the crew, they responded and we moved ahead, we had
just proved we could row in a force 6, I heard someone
say, ‘Why are we here?’.
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We rowed smartly into East Lough Tarbert, they did not
expect us in the bad weather and our berth had gone to
another, but we got the berth of a local motor cruiser
which was away and would not return in this bad weather.
Peter asked a truck driver at a nearby filling station
if he would help transport our barrels. We were soon in
the Church Hall, heat on and clothes steaming. Kathryn
was delighted to find a piano tuner just finishing and
our musical trio lifted our spirits from the prospect
of being storm bound. The one toilet was not prepared
for a crew of 16 and gave up !!
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Thursday 31st July 8am
Mr McSporrin, the Sexton, called to wind the clock and
as he was a plumber our problem was solved. He told us
the history of the McSporrins and the Church as he showed
us around. By mid morning the wind was moderating and
the broken steering oar was fixed. I decided to go for
Campbelltown, resting at Skipness point, under the invisible
eye of the radar dome. Our chart was small scale and the
coast is without definite landmarks, so the crew groaned
with disappointment when Carradale was not the next headland,
but a further five miles. A child had brought the news
of a strange boat approaching and the Minister and half
the village were waiting. As soon as the boat was secure
above the high water mark, we were transported in a fleet
of cars to the Church Hall about three miles away, and
a fish supper was provided for all.
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1st August
The next day after the Rev. Dunlop lead us in prayer,
the cars returned us to the boat and in a fresh 4-5 from
the NW, we departed. The sail was hoisted but we were
blown down wind three miles before we could get it down,
leaving us with a very hard row against force 5 gusting
force 6. We eventually rested under the ruined church
at Macrinnan Point, berthing two hours later at the pontoon
in Campbelltown where the Minister, John Oswald, the press
and the local radio were waiting. We were told there was
food in the fridge at the hall, and to our delight we
found the ladies of the church had our evening meal ready
and waiting. That evening most of us went to a local ceilidh,
which was a strange mixture of old and new.
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2nd August
A perfect day for the channel crossing, wind NW 1-2. After
a short prayer with the Minister we said our farewells.
We had to row against the last 4 hours of the flood and
be at Sanda for the full ebb across the North Channel.
We were at Sanda in 3 hours, and through the Sound to
the Mull of Kintyre. A fishing boat and two yachts changed
course in our direction and the new Ballycastle/Campbelltown
ferry passed very close slowing down and blowing its horn.
Hoisting the sails we created a respectable bow wave,
without the use of human energy. We were at peace with
nature watching gannets, petrels, fulmores and terns and
twice we were approached by porpoise. When the wind died
the crew went back to the oars, and Fair Head gradually
towered above us.
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The Rathlin ferry radioed us to go inshore, but that
manoeuvre caught us in a counter tide, so out we went
and fought the tide for an hour, gained half a mile, then
worked our way up the shore to Ballycastle. A very tiring
finish, but one filled with mixed emotions - exhilaration
that we had completed the pilgrimage, joy at our home
coming, sorrow that it was over so soon and we didn’t
have longer to stay with new found friends. We were a
team and only as a team could we have come through. This
voyage has changed people and their outlook on life, my
mind went back to the Abbey on Iona.
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