Isle of Lewis (4): The Beasts of Holm and the Iolaire, January 1, 2019

On a sunny July day in 2017, Cousin Don and his wife Pat took me to see The Beasts of Holm, and Don told me of the tragedy that struck His Majesty's Yacht Iolaire on the night of 1 January 1919. 
It was late afternoon as we approached the spot, and the light on sky, sea and tussock was glorious:

 Looking in another direction, toward the wind turbines, the clouds had created a wide pathway in the sky:

and the sea was benign:

Late on the evening of 31 December 1918, the Iolaire left the port of Kyle of Lochalsh to carry sailors who had fought in the First World War back to the Isle of Lewis. At 2:30 am the following morning, New Year's Day, as the ship approached the port of Stornoway, a few yards offshore and a mile away from the safety of Stornoway Harbour, she hit the infamous rocks, The Beasts of Holm, and sank. Those on board would have been able to see the lights of Stornoway. 
The death toll was officially put at 205, of whom 181 men were islanders but as the ship was overcrowded and there was a lack of proper records, the toll could have been higher. The impact of the disaster was devastating to the Islands; they had lost almost a generation of young men from the Islands. The sailors were wearing their uniforms including heavy boots, which made swimming from the wreck difficult, if indeed they knew how to swim. 

The Beasts of Holm, Isle of Lewis   Photo: Ann Barrie

The Beasts of Holm, Isle of Lewis   Photo: Ann Barrie

Monument to the Iolaire, Isle of Lewis  Photo: Ann Barrie

Monument to the Iolaire, Isle of Lewis   Photo: Ann Barrie

Monument to the Iolaire, Isle of Lewis  Photo: Ann Barrie

The tragedy of the Iolaire is why for the people of of the Isle of Lewis, World War I did not end on 11 November 2018, and why they will remember the Iolaire on 1 January 2019.

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Postscript 20 December 2018: My cousin Rory and his wife Rita, who live in Ness on the Isle of Lewis, sent me a commemorative pin which was produced to mark the 100^th anniversary of the Iolaire tragedy. The inscription reads: IOLAIRE 1^st January 2019.

Commemorative pin & newspaper article on the Iolaire  Photo: Ann Barrie

Rory and Rita also sent a comprehensive article, which appeared in the local newspaper, and describes the public launch of a new book Darkest dawn: the story of the Iolaire tragedy, by Malcolm Macdonald and Donald John MacLeod. The book runs to nearly 500 pages, and tells the story of every man on board – those who were lost and the survivors – as well as the stories of their families and the community they left behind. At the launch, Malcolm said that the mystery of the Iolaire and why she hit the Beasts will never be properly known, but he personally believes she made an error in sailing too far up the Minch before turning to port for the final approach into Stornoway. The e-version of the newspaper article is on the www.events.com website, Events _53 08/11/18 – 06/12/18.

Blog by Ann Barrie

Isle of Lewis (3): families

When I was in Tong on the Isle of Lewis last July, staying with Cousin Angus and his wife Annie, we would sit in front of a coal fire in the evenings and yarn about family history. It's interesting what you discover when second cousins get together.
I said it was a pity there were no photograph of our great grandparents, Duncan MacKenzie and Annabella McDonald, both of Lochcarron. Duncan MacKenzie, a crofter and carting contractor, who signed his name with a cross, was born in 1836, and his wife Annabella was eighteen years younger. Duncan died before the turn of the twentieth century, and Annabella and her four children managed the croft on their own with the help of the other villagers.
“Ah, just a wee moment,” Angus said. He rummaged through his files, and produced a faded photograph he had found when clearing his father’s house.This photo, taken in the late 1880s, shows Duncan and Annabella with their two oldest children, Lizzie and Chrissie. (My grandmother, Peggy and her brother John were yet to be born).  I never imagined Duncan to have a long and wispy beard, but there he is:

Duncan & Annabella MacKenzie, with their daughters Lizzie & Chrissie, Lochcarron, late 1880s

Lizzie MacKenzie married a MacLean of Stornoway, and Angus showed me the family gravestone at the Stornoway cemetery:

McLean gravestone, Stornoway Cemetery   Photo: Ann Barrie

Cousin Angus and Annie were married the same year as Bill and me – 1977 – and, like us, had seven and a half years as a couple before they had children. We agreed that although children enriched our lives, we were glad we had that long period of just being a couple. Now Annie and Angus are enjoying being a couple again, as their two daughters have flown the nest. The two of them engage in friendly banter about their origins:  “I’m a Stornoway cove,” Angus told me. “If I was a girl born in Stornoway, I’d be a blone. When we were children there was quite a distinction between town and country, and we townies considered ourselves superior to our country cousins. Annie’s a country girl, so she’s a maw.”

“If we were lucky,” Annie said, “we went to Stornoway once a year, in the bus.”

In summer, the evenings are long in the Outer Hebrides, and it can be hard to remember to go to bed. Near midnight, Angus pointed out that it was still twilight when one looked to the west, as the sun had set just beneath the horizon; then Annie called me to another window and showed me the moon shining in a dark sky over Broad Bay. 

Moon over Broad Bay, Isle of Lewis  Photo: Ann Barrie

Annie and I went for some evening strolls, and discovered poignant reminders of a family who had holidayed in this area for many years, but whose house was now empty and up for sale, with everything being thrown out:

Like Angus and Annie I enjoy porridge for breakfast. Annie has a collection of five different porridges lined up along the top of her cupboard, and I sampled a different one each morning; Angus would cook it in the microwave for me, quick and easy. Since I’ve been widowed, I’ve become a convert to porridge for breakfast – adorned with chopped apple, nuts, crystallised orange peel, and topped with cream and yoghurt. One of the best porridge meals I ever had was at McDonalds in Sauchiehall Street in Glasgow, some ten years ago – I had stepped off an overnight bus with eyes like grit and a raging hunger, and porridge filled the gap nicely.

Angus also served me special meat pies and black pudding from a butcher in Stornoway. 

This photo shows me with my second cousins Don and Angus McLean. Don lives near the airport with his wife, Pat, an Edinburgh girl whom he met when he was at university. Don, like Angus and Annie, is a fluent speaker of Gaelic. Another cousin Rory, who grew up in the south of England and moved to the Isle of Lewis with his wife Rita later in life, made a strenuous effort to learn Gaelic but found it too difficult.

Ann with Cousins Donald and Angus at Tong Park  Photo: Ann Barrie

Blog by Ann Barrie. To be continued.