Early on Thursday 15 May 2025, Lord of the Isles sits patiently at Kennacraig Ferry Terminal
Some of you may know that CRSC Membership Secretary Stuart Craig still laments the withdrawal of his favourite CalMac ship in November 2024. He still talks about nothing else! Well perhaps, just perhaps, he has managed to find a new favourite. Here Stuart describes a trip to Islay that he took last year.
My favourite, special ship Hebridean Isles was retired at the end of 2024; sent to King George V Dock to await her ultimate fate. A sad episode in the recent history of Hebridean shipping, one might say – or at least I am saying it! I do have a souvenir from her, however: a certain red plastic seat from her upper deck, which now occupies a special corner of my man-cave, because my wife won’t let me put it in the dining-room. So now that my favourite CalMac ship had been taken away from me, and all the other good people of the Hebrides, I felt obliged to invent a new ‘favourite’ for myself. And what better than that other ‘maiden aunt’ Lord of the Isles. I had actually spent more hours leaning over the deck rails of ‘LOTI’ than any other CalMac vessel, but as the new summer season of 2025 dawned I realised that I hadn’t actually sailed on her for seven years. I had to put that right.
After his early start, Stuart was first to board Lord of the Isles
As is often the case, the timetable alterations imposed by an ageing fleet, and their extended overhaul times, can work in the favour of the ferry enthusiast, just as much as it frustrates the travelling public. By mid-May Finlaggan on the Islay route was delayed on her return from annual survey, and so Lord of the Isles was placed on the Islay run to run in tandem with Isle of Arran. A detailed look at the timetable revealed that with an early start (0700) I could sail on Lord of the Isles to Port Ellen, cycle across the island and re-join her at Port Askaig at 1530. As the cycle would only take a couple of hours this meant a fair bit of hanging around at Port Askaig, however as the weather forecast looked superb this looked like an opportunity too good to miss. But then yet another propitious calamity arose, which again favoured my plans. Isle of Arran developed a bow visor issue which meant she would only sail to Port Askaig – and not Port Ellen – as this would prevent her running too late due to the necessity of her having to reverse much of her traffic on. On the day earmarked for my trip she would be departing Port Askaig at 1245 – perfect timing for me.
The early start was the tricky bit. I had to be at Kennacraig for 0630, and so I popped the tent, as well as the bike, into the car and made for Claonaig, where I knew I could find a wild-camp pitch just across the hill from the Islay terminal.
The incredible sight of a huge whale carcass stranded above the high-water line
I set off in the afternoon of Wednesday 14 May, crossing the Clyde on Sound of Seil and then Loch Fyne on Loch Tarbert. By 2000 the tent was pitched on my chosen spot and the midge-net looked out.
To briefly escape the blighters I pedalled off on the bike towards Skipness, and soon encountered a much bigger beastie. Just along the shore I spotted an incredible sight. A huge whale carcass lay stranded above the high-water line, its decaying, massive flanks banded chestnut and grey.
The poor creature was a hump-backed whale, which I later learned was washed-up here from the Kilbrannan Sound three months before, perhaps a victim of entanglement.
I reckoned it must have been at least ten metres long, but I didn’t venture too close in case the smell put me off my impending tent-side dinner.
The Mariners Cafe awaits its customers, mainly lorry drivers wanting their big breakfasts
I slept fitfully, as I usually do when camping. A quick reccy outside at 0030 revealed a stunning star-studded sky, and another head-pop-out at 0400 confirmed that a beautiful dawn was already well underway. I’m packed up and parked at Kennacraig Ferry Terminal at 0530, which must be the earliest I’d ever presented myself at a CalMac office. Lord of the Isles sat patiently at the pier, and already there was a bustle of activity. By the departure time of 0700 all were aboard, and I had the honour of embarking first, pushing my bike up against the starboard ramp. Do these side ramps still work, I wondered?
Most of the vehicles boarding were commercial: white vans, non-white vans, trucks. The drivers, who had probably had an earlier start than me, made straight for the Mariners restaurant for the big CalMac breakfast. One chap had his plate piled so high I wondered if he would still fit in his cab later. The knock-on effect of an early start and a big breakfast was that, to a man, they were all stretched out fast asleep in the Observation Lounge by the time we reached the end of West Loch Tarbert.
As ‘LOTI’ turned southwards past Gigha away to starboard I spotted Isle of Arran exiting the Sound of Islay – only the upper half of her superstructure visible above the horizon.
I re-familiarised myself with the interior of Lord of the Isles. She has lots of cosy corners to take in, but a reclining seat in her ‘zizz’ lounge got my vote as I endeavoured to add a half hour to last night’s sleep tally.
Some time later I was back out on the upper deck looking at the treacherous rocks that mark the outer passage into Port Ellen floating by. We rounded the buoy and quickly tied up. I could see that I now had three hours to get myself to Port Askaig. This gave me ample time to cycle across the island – I’d even had time to cycle round to the Ard to get a photo of Lord of the Isles berthed at Port Ellen.
Stuart Craig’s new favourite, Lord of the Isles, alongside at Port Ellen
My cycle route had been well considered in advance. To avoid the long, straight, but busy, A846 to Bowmore, I took the parallel B8016 up towards Glendale. With a slight tailwind this turned out to be a joy. I turned north-east onto a C-road just before Laggan Bridge, despite a sign telling me that the road was closed. Two miles further on the reason for the closure became clear: a small hump-backed bridge was in need of repair, it seemed, but I could squeeze past. Turning left at Cluanach, stopping to watch a male hen harrier drift past, I now had a climb up over the moor road towards Ballygrant. The fields on either side had short, stubby leaves pushing through parched soil. Rain is needed soon, but not today, thank you.
At Ballygrant I joined the main road to Port Askaig and the breeze downhill had me at the pier fifteen minutes before Isle of Arran appeared around the corner. Easy-peasy!
Arriving at Port Askaig, Isle of Arran looks right at home in the majestic scenery
Loading the ferry at Port Askaig took almost an hour. The ship would be full and careful planning was in evidence as the man in the white hat pointed out the order in which the vehicles were to be loaded. The cars had the easiest time – some performed U-turns on the car deck while the last column remained facing the wrong way. The big stuff, tankers of grain or fuel, was reversed onboard skillfully. There was one last delay until a taxi pulled up at the linkspan and one lady passenger – whom I presume had turned up at Port Ellen – was ushered aboard, a look of relief on her face. And we were off. The ramp was pulled up, and we wheeled away to starboard.
An empty upper deck as Isle of Arran arrives back at Kennacraig after ” a decent day”
As we headed out into the open sea there was hardly a sound except for the rhythmic thrump-thrump of the ship’s diesel engines and the faint soporific swish as we parted the waters. Across from me two white-haired ladies , sitting side by side, were holding their faces up to the sun, like a couple of chilled-out sheep. Nearby a posse of whisky-drinking Germans were laughing and toasting each other, no doubt after a successful outing to some of Islay’s distilleries.
The sea mid-crossing was as calm as it could possibly be. This must have been how Coleridge imagined his ‘painted ocean’. The deck crew got busy once their car marshalling duties were over. A young CalMac lady was meticulously applying a coat of white paint to a railing on the port side. She seemed engrossed in her work, using a variety of brushes, like a focussed Frida Kahlo. When I next spotted her, on the car deck at Kennacraig directing traffic, I noticed a splodge of white paint on her cheek. Should I tell her?
Disembarking at Kennacraig was easier than the embarkation at Port Askaig, but then that is what all that planning was about. The reversed-on lorries escaped first, and of course, the cyclists were last. I had hoped I could hopscotch on and off Arran to shorten my drive home – and add a couple of more ferries – but even though it was only 1530 I would miss the last ferry from Brodick, which seems daft timetabling. But hey, I’d had a decent day.
MEMBERS NIGHT – 11 February
Stuart Craig will be one of the speakers at the forthcoming CRSC Members Night on Wednesday 11 February, held in the Maldron Hotel, Renfrew Street, Glasgow and starting at 7pm. Please do come along – non-members are especially welcome to attend. If you are not a Club member, then why not join this friendly association of ship enthusiasts? Click here for your £15 introductory membership and you’ll get all the benefits, including CRSC’s highly prized colour magazine, an annual Review of west coast shipping and exclusive access to photo-rich ‘members only’ posts on this website.
Published on 5 February 2026