Suilven's Travels: A Life Changing Celtic Odyssey
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About this ebook
Thirty years ago I quit my job in science and engineering. Even in my late 20’s I was tired and disgruntled with the world and my place in it. I wanted to get off the treadmill, and experience the beauty of Planet Earth, or at least my little corner of it.
My partner Jill Brown and I looked to the world of sailing for travel and adventure. We sold our home, built a 26’ Wharram Polynesian-style catamaran and moved to the ocean. We struggled to make a living in Cornwall, one of the most beautiful maritime counties in the British Isles. I built boats and together with Jill wrote four regional guide books for major publishers. I was also a regular contributor to Practical Boat Owner magazine and editor of Sea People, the journal of the Polynesian Catamaran Association. It took a few years but the dream of adventure became real and the result was an extraordinary voyage around the west coast of Britain in the summer and autumn of 1990.
Suilven’s Travels is my account of this 3 month, life-changing odyssey, which was packed with adventure and challenge. Suilven II departed Plymouth in July and headed north to the Hebrides, stopping in Scilly, Wales, the Isle of Man and Northern Ireland. The story brings to life the landscape and culture of western Britain and in particular Scotland’s Inner Hebrides. It also shows what is possible on a minimal budget if the desire is strong enough to succeed. I was alone for most of the outbound trip, which gave me plenty of time to reflect on the world and my place in it. Jill Brown sailed with me on the demanding return trip when we struggled against autumn gales and rough seas and came close to losing our small boat on a couple of occasions.
Looking back nearly 25 years it’s obvious there has been dramatic change in our world – especially in technology. But the human spirit and the search for meaning in life is growing stronger as more of us realize it is becoming impossible to thrive in a system which essentially alienates us from our Earth, and our true selves. Suilven’s Travels was written to inspire others to step outside the box and live closer to the Earth.
David Skelhon
David Skelhon is an accomplished photographer, writer, sailor, commercial pilot and boat builder. He was born in the UK and moved to the province of British Columbia on Canada’s West Coast in 1996.He is best known in the UK for his contributions to sailing and adventure magazines, and as the co-author of several regional guide books.In Canada, his aerial photography has appeared in national and regional publications and exhibited in public and private art galleries. Portfolios have appeared in Photo Life and BC Magazine. For several years he worked as a freelance reporter/photographer for the Vernon Edition of The Daily Courier.He was a flight instructor for 7 years and recently worked as a bush pilot in Northern Alberta and the Yukon.He loves empowering others and encouraging thinking “outside the box."
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Suilven's Travels - David Skelhon
SUILVEN’S TRAVELS: A Life Changing Celtic Odyssey
By David Skelhon
SMASHWORDS EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
David Skelhon on Smashwords
SUILVEN’S TRAVELS
Copyright © 2013 David Skelhon
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior permission of the publisher.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
* * * * *
ISBN: 978-0-9920552-0-2
David Skelhon Publishing
Coldstream. BC
Cover photo and design by David Skelhon.
Interior photos by David Skelhon.
The author would like to thank fellow sailor Chris Banner of Diamond River Books for his editorial input and generous advice.
* * * * *
Dedicated to
Juliana Skelhon (1949–2012)
&
To friends and family who helped
make my adventures possible.
* * * * *
Preface
This should have been an easy book to write. I wrote most of it in draft form two years after Jill Brown and I returned from our Scottish adventure. It took me another twenty years to complete it.
Perhaps I needed time for the dust to settle. The story is not only about me but about Jill, my partner. We loved outdoor adventures and wide-open spaces. We wrote four regional guidebooks together. We also looked for a deeper meaning in our lives.
I instigated our rebellion away from conventional thinking and Jill coaxed me towards spiritual awareness. I thank her for that. In a way our voyage was a spiritual odyssey—certainly it was my exploration of self as much as an exploration of the West Coast of Britain. It became two journeys in one.
Life seemed simpler back then, but I doubt it was. The Berlin Wall had fallen and there was briefly optimism for a more peaceful future. But as I sailed up the Welsh Coast, Iraq invaded Kuwait and the world was again plunged into war. While I sorted through my old journals to complete this book, I came across something I had written in 1994. I wrote about the inevitable collapse of the world economy from spiraling greed, corruption and relentless environmental destruction. Little has changed in twenty years except technology.
I have refined my perceptions in the last twenty years but decided to keep the story true to my journal. The language sounded a little quaint in places—no doubt moving to Canada in 1996 played a part in that—so I did some re-writing to make it flow better for modern ears on both sides of the Atlantic.
You may wonder why we named our boats Suilven. The name rolls off the tongue and Suilven is a remote and beautiful mountain in the northwest Highlands of Scotland. The classic view of it is from the village of Lochinver, where it is seen head-on, its reddish sandstone forms an isolated dome. It is connected to its other, pyramidal end by a graceful ridge which dips in the middle. Curiously, a bizarre wall constructed from large blocks of stone straddles the ridge and divides the two ends. Why was the wall built? When was it built? Who built it? No one knows and the wall doesn’t appear to serve any practical purpose.
I eventually climbed Suilven in 1994 and experienced the mountain’s magic. I concluded that Suilven has ancient spiritual significance and spiritual exploration is partly the reason for my travels.
I wrote this book to inspire others who are bored, frustrated and hostage to a system that encourages mediocrity, conformity and the diminution of the human spirit. You can kick the system and follow your own dreams. You were born on Planet Earth to do that! You will have to take a great leap in faith, but when you commit, the Cosmos moves in mysterious ways to help you. I urge you to follow your heart. You will be challenged but you will lead a rewarding life.
In addition, our journey was a true adventure, filled with drama, interesting individuals and magnificent land and seascapes. I felt truly alive and at home on Planet Earth. You too can find moments of Heaven here on earth.
David Skelhon, February 2013.
Chapter One
Small Boat, Big Idea
"Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it." (Goethe)
Suilven heeled smartly as the damp gust filled her little tan sail. Her bow skewed around towards the whitewashed cottage on the far side of the loch. It stood a ghostly, luminescent white against the sombre, faded greens and browns of the heather and gorse clad mountains. A pulse of drizzle fell from the gloomy ceiling and gently brushed the sea. The cottage smudged and then faded behind this watery veil.
We had left the village of Ballaculish at the foot of Glen Coe six hours earlier. The forecast was for a gentle northwesterly breeze and fair skies. But this is the West Coast of Scotland, where mountains make a mockery of forecasting. Our anticipated northwesterly had been diverted by the land and piped up the gash of the Great Glen fault, south-west from the Firth of Lorne to the town of Fort William. Its chilly breath ruffled but fortunately did not anger the steely blue waters of Loch Linnhe. However, Suilven, a very slim 15 feet of plywood and mahogany, was very heavily laden with two foolhardy adventurers and a week’s provisions. She was sluggish against the short, steep seas in the loch. As Suilven thumped her way monotonously to windward, Jill, sitting forward, took the brunt of the icy water as an occasional wave sloshed over the foredeck.
Darkness drew near and we hoped the beach on the far side of the loch was sandy. Our original destination, chosen for the long sandy crescent shown on the chart was actually a boulder-strewn disappointment. It did offer a modicum of shelter but it was impossible to drag Suilven to safety above the high water mark. The seas improved as we moved into the lee of an island—half capped in mist and just a drab outline in the June twilight. It was 10 p.m. and we had definitely had enough sailing for one day.
The cottage re-appeared as the drizzle eased. We could see what lay ahead. I groaned—again, our charted sandy beach was a pile of rubble. Let’s follow the shore and find somewhere to drag her out of the water,
said Jill, her voice loaded with exasperation. We tacked close in, slowly clawing upwind of the cottage. It looked hopeless but we had to stop somewhere. Ahead I could just see a flat rocky ledge about two feet above the water. It was littered with boulders, some a couple of feet in diameter but I felt we might be able to manhandle Suilven ashore. We dropped the sail and shipped the oars. Jill rowed us carefully alongside the ledge and I hopped ashore to look for a campsite. I promptly slipped and fell on a slimy carpet of seaweed and as I struggled to my feet I became fully aware of my tiredness. I trudged up the beach. No sand—just a narrow band of shingle beneath a small cliff. It would have to do.
As the tide edged to the top of the ledge, we started to unload, Jill staying remarkably cheerful although she was desperately cold, wet and tired. With most of the weight ashore we tried to drag Suilven up the beach but were too cold and feeble for her very modest one hundred and fifty pounds. Instead, I threw out her anchor, attached to a loop of rope and tied the other end to a bush on the shore. I hoped the anchor would hold so I could pull her in at high water. Despite waves of nausea brought on by fatigue, I dragged the gear up the beach while Jill brewed tea and found some food. By the time we had put the