Part II of an account of a visit to Coll by Prof. L.A. Neckar-de-Saussure of Geneva.
Translated by Rev. David Kellas from Voyage en Ecosse et aux Isles Hebrides.
It is not at all clear that the intrepid Professor ever really intended to visit Coll:
'Since it was blowing from the north, we had no choice which way to go! Coll was the only island we could possibly reach in a day.'
However his crossing must be familiar to most islanders:
'At last I was seeing the Atlantic Ocean in all its majesty. It was a real pleasure to see in all its savage fury what up till now I had only seen so calm. Different kinds of gull as well as skuas flew all around us, while at the same time shearwaters and guillemots swam in ones and twos, balancing lightly on the backs of the great waves.’
The professor’s first impressions of the island are timeless although his account of the weather sounds more typical of a Coll winter than of early September.
'Coll is about eight leagues to the west of Mull; it is five leagues long, and between half and one league across. On Coll there are no peaks, no mountains; you may think of it as a stump of gneiss which comes just a little out of the sea, and lies along the direction of its bed, that is to say, from south-west to northeast. Coll has a rough, rocky, surface; these rocks assume a thousand bizarre shapes along the coast, where, of course, they are more exposed, and are subject to the force of the waves. The action of the water has worn away the sharp edges, and has given a unique polish to their surface.
'Coll lacks the great features which are typical of the Hebridean countryside. Unlike the neighbouring islands, it has no lofty or picturesque cliffs, no huge mountains. This makes the total absence of any species of tree particularly noticeable. But all round the coast you enjoy pleasant views of the different groups of islands which make up this Archipelago of the Hebrides. The Isle of Mull in particular, with its high and rugged mountain tops, and the little islands which surround it, is a most remarkable sight viewed from Coll.
'The island of Coll must offer a rich collection of minerals derived from primitive rocks. An expert in lithology who had plenty of time to devote to the search for crystals could, I am sure, gather here some fine samples, and find some rare fossils as well.
'The only metallic substance that has up till now been found on Coll is galena. I was shown some faint signs of this in an outcrop of quartz. But, as the vein is beside the sea and half-submerged, I only managed to recover some very tiny samples. At high tide the sea covers the whole of the rock in which this "lead-mine" is found, and this fact, coupled with the small quantity of the metal, has stopped anyone from taking the trouble to exploit it.
'Among the dunes I saw several places where the sand had been consolidated, and the grains stuck together by a kind of calcareous cement, forming thin beds of quite hard sandstone. These beds were horizontal, and their recent origin is proved by the presence, mixed with the grains, of fragments of sea shells still with their colour and pearly sheen, no different from the ones you can find in the sand of the dunes and beaches. There, almost before our very eyes, nature was forming beds of solid minerals, and that without the help of the waters of the sea or subterranean fire, since the beds were being solidified in the open air on the surface of the ground. Here, then, was a formation of horizonatal layers built on the top of an ancient formation of vertical layers.
September 2nd. 'A terrible storm forced us to stay in the house. It poured with rain all morning, and the wind was so strong that the house shook. As the sea was all round us, we heard on all sides the roaring of the waves as they crashed onto the rocks of the shore. Nevertheless, we were able to take advantage of the few moments when the rain stopped to go down to the shore and contemplate the imposing spectacle of a furious ocean turning over in immense waves. Nothing could have been more striking than to see these mountains of water coming quickly one after the other and smashing against the rocks with such a noise, sending clouds of foam far into the air. Here, on the wide sandy beaches,long, high, breakers dashed ashore throwing up great clusters of seaweed which they had torn from the bed of the sea. Among these marine plants brought ashore by the storm, I observed one great fucus whose stem was an inch thick and several feet long, and had a bunch of green leaves at the top. This plant only growns in the depths of the sea.
'Along the sandy beach, which was constantly stirred by the waves, troops of oystercatchers ran to and fro, with their black and white plumage. A crowd of gulls, blackbacked and common, with plaintive cries fought among the debris brought in by the water. Watching for the moment when a big wave curls into the air, throwing out its foam, these birds retreat backwards before it, and then, when the foam has run back into the sea, they run after it, jumping here and there to grab the shellfish and marine animals which the wave has brought in.
'Elsewhere, in the caves and gullies, the waves cause huge masses of pebbles to roll backwards and forwards, carrying them great distances, and then, as the water goes back, the pebbles rush together again, back to where they started. This action produces a sound just like thunder. Constantly rotated and subjected to such rough treatment, the pebbles become round and polished, much more so than any of the pebbles I have observed in our lakes at home, or even in the Mediterranean. The same effect is produced on the surface of the rocks which are beaten by the waves.
'In short, a thousand circumstances of all kinds accompany the storms in these latitudes, which are open to the whole force of an Ocean which could well be described as being without limits or controls. There is, after all, no land between this island and America.'
On September 3rd., the Professor visited Tiree and on his retum, the weather continued to bedevil his journey:
'Now that the boat was ready, we all got in, and Mr. MacLean took the helm. It wasn't until we were a little bit out from the land that we were able to see what the weather was really like, since on the shore it had seemed very calm. But as soon as we were in the open sea, we saw the western sky full of black clouds. A violent wind from the southwest blew up in squalls. The sea was furious, the sea-birds, driven by the storm, gave out plaintive cries, and the gannets, which dived constantly into the wild seas, or flew in fear all round us; showed us the change in the weather by the contrast between their dazzling whiteness and the sombre tint of the clouds. Our boat was very small, without any ballast, and, to add to our worries, we had hardly gone half a mile when we realised that the entire crew was drunk! In a crossing so dangerous, and with such a crew, our situation became very critical!
'The sky in the west took on an even more stormy appearance. The danger grew at every instant. More than once we were on the point of being engulfed by immense walls of water, which sometimes plunged us to the depths. If we hadn't had the good fortune to have a man like Mr. Maclean to steer the boat, we would without doubt have perished. We needed all his calm, all his firmness of purpose, to get some respect from our wretched crew. It was in vain that he gave any command, they just wrung their hands, and in their terror and drunkeness did the opposite of what they ought, or carried out as slowly as possible operations that needed to be done as quickly as possible.
'The squalls came with even greater violence, and instead of letting go the sail in the normal way, they held on to it as hard as they could; there was one moment when the boat leaned over so much that the sail touched the waves. At this everyone cried out, and we believed that it was all up with us. The sailors went white, they were in such distress. The noise they made arguing in Gaelic mixed with the din of the sea and the wind added to our sense of unease.
'But Providence,which kept watch over us, got us out of this danger. After much trouble and danger, we came ashore on some rocks on the Isle of Coll - rocks against which we had for some time feared our little skiff would be broken into a thousand pieces. We leapt ashore joyfully, giving thanks to God for our deliverance, and, still amazed to find ourselves safe and uninjured after such a crossing, we made our way joyfully back to the comforts of the Coll House.'
We must apologise to Rev. Kellas for omitting to credit him with the translation of Part I of this account, in the 1992 edition.
Naturally, if the Professor had had the benefit of British Telecom's 1993 map, there's no telling where he might have ended up!
