Sunset

We had a colourful sunset here this evening, and I share a few of the pics I took between 5.30 and 6.00pm.

Wednesday 21 October

After a wet start, the weather has very slowly brightened up through the day. Now, half an hour before sunset, the sun has appeared from under the cloud cover and bathes the area in a golden glow.

Rumours that Al-Megrahi has died are untrue. The man, convicted Lockerbie bomber, was recently released from prison in Scotland back home to Libya, on humanitarian grounds.

And the bomb squad was out in Stornoway this afternoon to deal with a suspect device. No news on the nature of this device, just a lot of fuss in one of the town's streets.

Relationships

Kathy made an interesting observation on my previous post "Change" - does writing blogposts form relationships between people?

I think it does. Very much so. The "Call for Support" blog is demonstrative of that, as we share the sad and the happy, the triumphs and disasters in our lives. And sharing such does form a bond. The blogs being abandoned means the bond is weakened if not lost. I don't think that Facebook could really replace that, and certainly Twitter cannot. We'll have to see how things pan out.

Missing diver's identity confirmed

On October 3rd, a diver went missing whilst spear-fishing off Ardnamurch Point, on the Scottish mainland. Ten days later, the body of a man, dressed in a wetsuit, was found washed up on the shores of Loch Slapin in the Isle of Skye, 30 miles to the north. Police have tonight confirmed the identity of the man as that of Iain Rodger, a 66-year old man from Kilchoan in the Ardnamurchan peninsula, who had been reported missing by his wife on October 3rd.

My sympathies are with Mr Rodger's family and friends.

Change

This evening, as I was browsing my Twitter-feed, I noticed a message from Sandra about her dog, Jake. See Call for Support for details. The fact that I found this on Twitter was already an indication about the changes that have happened in our erstwhile community that we called J-land. Many have moved over to Facebook and use Twitter alongside. I browsed some of the blogs that were in Sandra's sidebar, and found many to be defunct or not updated since the move from AOL. Jan, who was once the figurehead of AOL Journals, has now not updated her journal since last June. And there are so many others like her.

Makes me quite sad in a way. But, such is life. Change happens, and not always for the best. Facebook is cluttered with the messages about various games, and I usually don't bother to trawl through all that. I am following about 140 people on Twitter, and as I glance at my Tweetdeck window, it is about as much as I can handle.

Just a memory from 3 years ago

Tuesday 20 October

Fairly bright today, although there is a cloud cover. The sun peeps through some of the cloud at times. The easterly wind is gradually increasing, but the gale we were promised is not likely to materialise on the coast.

The RNLI is now offering a service whereby you can be notified by text if your local lifeboat is launched - or any lifeboat indeed. They also relay on Twitter whenever they launch. The texting service involves a monetary donation for each text. I take an interest as I have an open view of the harbour entrance, and frequently see the lifeboat coming or going.


One of the most dramatic rescues I have witnessed myself took place 3 years ago. Within about 20 yards of me. I copy the entry from my Northern Trip journal for 1 July 2006:

... Just as we're having lunch, the sound of the helicopter becomes noticeable. The helicopter is right outside the house, hovering over the basin. Hotel Lima is tending to a yachtsman that we noticed earlier, struggling to control his boat in the force 6 winds. His boat lies overturned, and a winchman is going down to assist the hapless sailor. Newton Street very quickly fills up with spectators, the police are in attendance, directing traffic and all who are outside are drenched by the water which the helicopter's updraft is spraying around. The yachtsman manages to make dry land under his own steam - his own two legs. Meanwhile, the wrecked boat lies on its side in the basin, and slowly drifts towards its mouth. The lifeboat moves to the mouth of the basin and launches a dinghy. There is a sandbar across the basin, which makes it impossible for boats to leave it at low tide, and the tide is falling right now. The wreck is towed to Goat Island, where the damage is assessed. The boat is not holed, so it's left anchored on a mooring....

Classical music

Rachmaninoff
The link plays a recording of a record, which is more than 50 years old. Jose Iturbi, who died in 1980, plays Rachmaninoff's Prelude no 3 in c# minor. The recording is deeply personal, as it was one of the records that my mother gave to my father on his birthday in the late 1950s. Technical quality is not terribly good, and that's not just due to the method of recording - holding a mike in front of an audio speaker. The record itself is a tad crackly. This record set me off on a journey around the world of classical music, which I explored using the BBC World Service's programs in the 1980s and 90s. The late Gordon Clyde, who died last year, presented The Pleasure is Yours, until 1990, followed by Brian Kay and Gordon's personal friend Richard Baker. I recorded pieces of classical music on cassette tape - and that tally stood at about 200 tapes some 6 years ago. I have not added since.

I am a very critical listener, and entertain pop music only on sufferance, as the musical quality is usually measured in the negative ranges on a scale of 1 to 10. Exceptions apply, such as these guys from 1977. Did I mention I play the piano?

1956 or 1965?

I was looking up the 20th century concert pianist Solomon Cutner, who lived from 1902 to 1988. He was a gifted pianist, whose career was cut short by a stroke. This paralysed his right arm, but in spite of that, he managed to finish a recording session on which little evidence of the stroke can be heard. The Wikipedia article links to an obituary in the New York Times, which states that the stroke occurred in 1965. Everywhere else the date is given as 1956. Transcription error? Don't think so. The NYT also states that the pianist recorded in the 1960s, which is not correct.

Portrait courtesy Macconnect

Monday 19 October

A gradual change is occurring in the weather today. After a glorious sunrise just after 8 am, the morning stayed sunny albeit cool - mercury at 10C. By lunchtime, a blanket of cloud started to move up from the south, and at 2pm the sun had gone. The front edge of a rain front is just coming ashore in South Harris, 50 miles to the south.
Visibility is extremely good, 50 km (30 miles), and earlier on I could clearly see the mountains of the Applecross Forest, 60 miles to the southeast on the Scottish mainland.

Out at sea, mauve stinger jellyfish are reported to be swarming. These creatures, a nuisance to humans, are deadly to fish, particularly farmed fish. A large part of the economy of Western Scotland depends on fish farming, and the Marine Conservation Society is monitoring the situation closely. If the jellyfish come into a fishfarm, they can decimate stock, leading to damage worth hundreds of thousands if not millions of pounds. This happened in Ireland in 2007, when billions of mauve stingers killed salmon in fishfarms off the north coast.
Picture courtesy glaucus.org.uk.

9 November

This is a date that is obviously still a couple of weeks away, but I am having a problem. For the past few years, I have marked this date as being the anniversary of the infamous Night of Broken Glass [Kristallnacht] in 1938. On that night, Nazi supporters, police and troops went on the rampage across Germany, destroying Jewish-owned property and synagogues. This was a concerted and premeditated act, laying down for all to see what Nazi Germany was all about. The burning flame, on the left of this post, is a reminder of what happened that November night. And what was to follow.

After the unspeakable atrocities of the Second World War, Germany was divided into four by the victorious allies. The British, French and American sectors became West Germany, whilst the Soviet sector was turned into East Germany, a communist state. Berlin was similarly divided. Until 1961, people from the East fled to the West in droves. A barrier was erected across Berlin in August 1961, later replaced by a high, concrete wall. Similar barriers were put up along the borders between East and West Germany. Anyone trying to flee from East to West was shot on sight, no questions asked. The advent of Mikhail Gorbatchov as leader of the USSR in the 1980s heralded a start of change. And when this wind of change blew across eastern Europe, it blew away all the communist regimes within the space of a few months in 1989.

The Berlin Wall was torn down on 9 November 1989, and you can see my dilemma. Do I remember the Kristallnacht, and not celebrate the reunification of Germany? Do I celebrate the reunification, and ignore the Night of Broken Glass? Or can the two be reconciled? The city of Berlin is mounting a huge celebration on 9 November 2009, the 20th anniversary of the Fall of the Wall. I wonder if anyone will think of the Kristallnacht then. For the two are inextricably linked. The Kristallnacht heralded the start of tyranny - perhaps the end of the Berlin wall heralded the end of it. Maybe that's the way to look at it. I'll think about it. I'm not convinced.

Queen Mary 2

As seen from Stornoway, from 12 miles away at 3.21pm today.

Sunday 18 October

Fairly bright and sunny today, quite a nice afternoon. As I type this, I find out that the Queen Mary II cruiseliner is passing down the Minch - and right on cue, she appears from behind the Coastguard Station. I can only just make her out on the distant horizon, 12 miles away. Hebrides News has an extensive write-up about the QM2.

Spent part of the morning raking leaves - and judging by the state of the trees, that will have to be repeated a few times more. Last night was very windy and wet, but the day dawned bright, cloudless and innocent. I'll post a picture of the QM2 later today.

Hurricane update - 18 October

One of the most powerful hurricanes this season is currently in the Eastern Pacific: hurricane Rick carries sustained winds of 180 mph near its centre, with gusts up to 220 mph. Rick will weaken as it moves north, due to lower ocean water temperatures and less favourable atmospheric winds, but could still pack a punch as a category I to II hurricane on landfall by the middle of this week.

Typhoon Lupit will pass north of Luzon Island, Philippines, on Wednesday, as a strong typhoon, with winds of 130 mph. 

Hurricane update - 17 October

Hurricane Rick, which formed south of Acapulco on Thursday, is now a category IV hurricane as it moves west northwest, parallel to the south coast of Mexico. Sustained winds near its centre are at 125 knots, that's 140 mph (220 kph), and will exceed 140 knots by tomorrow. That makes it a category V hurricane. As the storm veers north, the seawater temperatures (currently near 30C) will fall, and the atmospheric conditions will no longer be conducive to sustaining this intensity. By the time Rick makes landfall in Baja California, expected on Wednesday or Thursday of next week, it will be a category II hurricane. Still enough to cause extensive damage and disruption. Website Baja Insider is giving the local view, albeit somewhat behind.

From the archives: Friday 15 October 2004

This morning, I took the 9.36 bus down to Elgol (Ealaghol in Gaelic - top image courtesy Flickr user vtveen, lower image courtesy Kennethverburgh.nl). It took its time, arriving at Elgol Pier at 10.15. Once you reach Elgol, it's a very steep descent from 110 to 0 metres. Not much to be seen there, apart from a stunning aspect of the Cuillins. Unfortunately, I haven't got the pictures available. Sgurr na Stri stands out between Camasunary and Coruisk, and the teeth of the Cuillins rearing up to the left. Rubha'n Dunain tapers out just beyond Soay. I climbed up the hill until the sign that said Camasunary 2 1/2 miles, Sligachan 10 1/2 miles. I joined that path and commenced an airy cliffwalk, and if I say airy, it was. It quickly became fairly rough, and required a bit of scrambling. Not to mention that point where it ended at the edge of a 100 ft precipice. Yikes! I'd missed a turning that was not signposted. Half way up the coast a glen comes up from the hinterland, and it takes a bit of mapreading to find the onward route. It remained a fairly tough undertaking, and was knackered by the time I collapsed on the beach at Camasunary. Lots of flotsam and jetsam up there. There is also a farmhouse and at the far end, right underneath Sgurr na Stri a bothy. This contained two sleeping platforms, one of them actually occupied (this was 1.30pm) by a sleeping person. Lots of candles in bottles. A shelf contained spare food. This bothy was fairly tidy. I've heard stories of people abusing these remote hide-outs for lonely booze-ups. I dabbled about Camasunary for a bit, then went up the hill and slowly, very slowly, made my way to Robostan, where I'd be waiting for a bus back to Broadford. I arrived there at 4.40, bus not being due until 5.30. So I decided to walk for a bit, rather than stand there and freeze. Half a mile beyond Strathaird House I came upon a lame sheep. It didn't run but merely hobbled painfully. When I stopped a little distance behind it in order not to scare it into hobbling into the road, into the path of an oncoming car, it looked round at me. Mutely saying "Now then, are you really going to kill me?". But I crossed to the other side of the road and it hobbled away. A few miles further, in sight of Torrin and the Red Hills, a German couple pulled over and offered me a lift to Broadford. Which I accepted. They were due to travel back to Karlsruhe the next day, but would fly to Frankfurt Hahn. Some 80 miles away from Frankfurt. Arrived back in Broadford at 5.45.

Saturday 17 October

No complaints about the weather, although the wind is a tad nippy. Mercury dipped to freezing overnight, but is currently nicely back up into double figures.

It is low tide at the moment, and it is quite a low tide, bearing in mind it is springtide. For those not much versed into matters tidal, when you get a springtide the flood tide comes in very high and the ebb tide very low. A few years ago, during an especially low tide, I was able to go out onto the exposed seabed and collect about 8 clams. No surprise then when I say that I never found another clam in the area concerned! It is quite disconcerting to think though that 6 hours later there was 17 feet of water above the place where I had been picking those shells.

Our MP has asked for the summer timetable for the ferries to be extended into November. Its current validity runs out next Saturday, October 24th. He states that the slashing of ferry fares, due to a government subsidy scheme, has promoted ferry traffic last summer. Mr Macneil appears to be unaware though that the tourist season tends to end at the close of the midterm break, i.e. by the penultimate weekend in October. Five years ago, when I was travelling western Scotland, I could not help but notice that everything ground to a stop by October 24th or thereabouts, and that was not related to the ferry services. Being in the Isle of Skye at the time, which can be reached by bridge, it was very noticeable. Also, the Stornoway to Ullapool ferry service is the same right through the year. Other services in the Western Isles do see a reduction in service though.

Friday 16 October

A beautiful sunny morning in Stornoway, with hardly a breath of wind. Quite cool, at present only 8C / 46F. Overnight low was +2C / 36F.

Far-right Dutch politician Geert Wilders is returning to the UK after overturning a ban on his entry to the UK, previously imposed by the UK Home Office. Mr Wilders produced an anti-Islam movie, Fitna, in March last year, which raised a furore but was in my mind too stupid to waste 15 minutes of my time on. Geert Wilders is the leader of a political party in Holland, which is as intolerant as the country's reputation is tolerant. I do not understand why he is so revered over there - I think he's a proper disgrace.

Late last night, two hillwalkers were taken to safety from the Steall gorge near Fort William, after becoming disoriented in the dark. I know the area myself, and it is quite tricky to negotiate in daytime. If you're on the south bank of the river, you have to cross it using a single wire.



Water of Nevis at Steall


Wire bridge at Steall

Pictures courtesy Flickr-user HighlandSC

From the archives: Tuesday 12 October 2004

Well, all good things must come to an end. On Tuesday morning, I moodily packed up my things. Unfortunately, when I came down to Kildonan, my backpack was transported to the house for me. So its weight came as an unpleasant surprise. Said goodbye to my hosts and lumbered across to the pier in 60 minutes. That is actually normal time, especially bearing in mind I diverted through the Lodge Gardens. On arrival at the pier, the Eiggach were in great confusion regarding The Boat. It was very well known that the regular one, Lochnevis, was away for its refit. The Raasay, a very much smaller craft, was taking its place for cargo. At midday, a mast appeared above the pier and everybody streamed down to have a look. No passengers. At 1pm, another cry "the boat is here" sent me scurrying down the pier again. This time round, it was for passengers. I could see nothing of it until I got to the point where John Cormack was standing. "Erm, John?" I went. "Did they wash Lochnevis at too high a temperature?" The Ullin Staffa was really wee. But a lot faster than Lochnevis. It covered the distance to Mallaig in 60 minutes, where the regular ferry takes 80 minutes. On departure from the pier at 1.15, the sea was choppy, and we took over a fair amount of seaspray. Some of the kids turned green and were sent out on deck for some fresh air. One young girl was beyond help and proceeded to spew up over the side. Nice. The adults stuck to their devices for keeping seasickness at bay. Arrival in Mallaig at 2.15, and we had to clamber onto the loading ramp for Coruisk, the Skye ferry. This materialized at 2.40. Coruisk was taken into service on 14/8/03, only to be taken out again before the month was out because she had lost a propellor on entering Mallaig Harbour. I had to wait for a bus for 2 hours at Armadale. I walked down the road to Aird for a bit, sat on a grassy knoll and had a coke in the local pub. On return at the main road, I stood waiting for the 5.35 from Armadale Pier, when one of the shopkeepers advised me that "this was not a stop". No. But the bus would stop there anyhow. However, I didn't want a row, so I dutifully toddled off to the Pier and boarded the number 52 for Broadford at 5.35.

From the archives: Monday 11 October 2004

Went out earlier than before, and tootled across to the Pier to start with. From Kildonan Farm House, you can actually short cut to the Pier via the cliffs. Of course, you must cross some fences :-\, but they're there to keep the sheep in. I finally reached the point opposite the pier, and came across Lady Runciman's Bathing Hut. No longer up to spec, as several planks were missing from the walls, and Lady R would have been severely embarrassed changing in there. Whether she actually did go for a dip in the days of yore, history does not recall. My attempts to cross Pier Bay were thwarted by deep and wide streams. And the sea of course. I had to wind my way around the obstacles and found myself outside Shore Cottage. No problem, I just walked round to An Laimhrig. There I partook of a cup of Nescafe, 50p, and chatted to a yachtswoman who was over with her family out of Ayrshire. Later that day she would sail, with hubby, young boy and dog, to Soay, 15 miles away under the Skye Cuillins. Apparently 2 people live there, but the Arisaig boat Sheerwater delivers their mail. Why the Western Isles (Mallaig based) or even the Bella Jane (Elgol, right opposite Soay) cannot do that, nobody knows. Later on that day, the golden labrador would bite Diesel, the Carr's dog, for mischievous behaviour. The lab behaved impeccably. Diesel, a lil monster, did not. I marched up Pier Hill, past Galmisdale and up the path to the Scurr. That is well eroded and little better than a mudchute. I did comment on that to some people, but did not receive much of an active reply. Once underneath the Scurr ridge, I diverted to Lochan nam Ban Mora (Loch of the Big Women) to find the bench, which had been placed there earlier in the year in memory of Brigg Lancaster.

He had died early in 2003 in a road traffic accident on the island, when his jeep left the road at Sandavore, and it rolled over. As this happened at 2am, he was not found for another 8 hours. Although he was still alive when he was found, he succumbed to his injuries. Brigg, aged 31, left a wife and a one-year old girl. The plaque on the bench simply reads 'honesty'. A bottle of whisky is commonly left at the bench, for people to have a dram. Unfortunately, the Famous Grouse had been smashed. I just sat there in complete silence, looking over the water of the lochan. Later on, I went on my way. I met Brigg only once, before he got married to Tasha Fyffe. He seemed a decent enough person.

Although I have visited Eigg for 15 years, I still managed to get lost amongst the lochans. I had to get the map out (disgrace) to remind myself of their location.

Next stop: Lochan Nighean Dougaill, Lochan of Dougal's Daughter. Her lungs were alleged found floating on the surface of the lochan after she was abducted from the nearby township of Grulin. The abductor was a kelpie, one of the good people, of whom we cannot speak. Grulin was cleared in the 1850s, and now only ruins and the bothy remain. With some difficulty, I managed to wind my way around to the Twin Lochs, at an altitude close to 1,000 feet. Corra-bheinn towered some distance to the northeast, above its own lochan, which I could not see. I had to stay that high because of Glen Charadail, which cuts deeply into the hills here.

The Twin Lochs can be crossed at midpoint, but be prepared for wet feet. The traverse to the western end of Lochan Beinn Tighe is a nightmare, 2ft high tussocks of heather and boulders. I disturbed 3 sheep, missed by the shepherd George Carr, so he has a job to go and retrieve them lol. Clambering over more boulders round the shoulders of Beinn Tighe, I finally managed to reach reasonable terrain at 3.15. I collapsed on the shores of the lochan and took a 45 minute break. Then followed a fairly speedy descent towards Laig, but not without the infernal barbed-wire fencing. And when you ignore clear warnings in the terrain that you're standing above a cliff, well, you have to clamber. Don't you. LOL. Reached Laig at 17.30, and the main road at 18.05. Although it's only a mile, there were plenty of blackberries to distract me. I came across Liz Lyons and Morag MacKinnon, outside's the former's pigsty - sorry, yard. Morag's cows were blocking the road further on at the summit of Bealach Clithe, so that was an interesting exercise in shooing the damn creatures to the side. Arrived back at Kildonan at 18.55. A good, long day, and I was well knackered. Asked for a rum coke - for those who don't know me, I hardly ever touch liquor.

Hurricane update - 15 October

The Atlantic hurricane season remains as lifeless as the proverbial dodo, but the East Pacific season, which runs concurrently with the Atlantic one, is roaring. This evening, storm number 20 formed, some 400 miles south of Acapulco and what will be Rick is expected to strengthen very quickly indeed, to hurricane force as early as Saturday (GMT) and major hurricane by late Sunday. Although the storm is currently heading away from land, it is expected to veer northwest, and could be on a collision course with Baja Califormia - with winds of at least 115 knots - early next week.

The West Pacific typhoon season is also in conveyor belt mode. After tropical storm Parma finally disappeared from the weather charts after gracing them with its presence for 17 days, we now have tropical storm Lupit east of the Philippines. By the time this storm reaches Luzon Island, it could be a category IV typhoon. As if Luzon hasn't already had enough typhoons this season: after 3 helpings of Parma, preceeded by a deadly deluge from Ketsana, Lupit could deliver another heavy blow with 125 knot winds and the usual catastrophic downpours.

It is habitual to retire hurricane / typhoon names if a storm, carrying that name, has caused catastrophic loss of life and / or damage to property. There will never be a hurricane Katrina, or a typhoon Durian. Ketsana is also unlikely to reappear again in 6 years' time (the lists of names rotate on a 6 year cycle). Last year, no Western Pacific typhoon names were retired. There will be quite a handful this year, unless I'm badly mistaken.