Thursday, July 19, 2007

Kilchoan - rest day - Wed 18 July

We woke to a lovely blue sky, occasional puffy white cloud and a gentle breeze off the water of Loch Sunart. Yesterday was a tough ride to Kilchoan, on the western end of the Ardnamurchan peninsula, virtually the western extremity of mainland Britain. We left Fort William in lovely sunshine, it was a fantastic run down the 12k or so to the Corran ferry, and the crossing gave glorious views back up the Loch to Fort William and Ben Nevis (4,000ft and highest in Britain).

By the time we got another 20k, the heavens opened and for the next hour we had more water dumped on us than I seem to recall. We had to keep going. The road was tough, long hills at times, and also steep long declines which is scary in drenching rain and very little brakes. This kept up as we turned west onto the 30k run to Kilchoan, only to change into sunshine again just before we hit the glorious climb up behind the neck of the Holy Mount, Ben Hiant which rises 1700ft, with the tiny but pretty village of Kilchoan on its western side. The weather is so fickle and unpredictable. We are glad the body is weatherproof, as are 'Pommie Pete's Ortlieb panniers that he lent me just before we left, for which I am daily grateful. Julie's are another story.

Today though was different. No bikes today. Julie is a Stewart, and our ride is more than a bike ride. It is physical for sure, but also spiritual. We are pilgrims, not just tourists. Julie is a daughter of Kilchoan and Sanna Bay. Coming here is not just as a tourist, but as a pilgrim to touch something of her past, her rich heritage which seeps from the very rocky outcrops of these heather covered hills.

The Stewarts were in the front line of Bonnie Prince Charles fight to regain the English and Scottish Crown at the battle of Culloden. There were 500 of them, the Prince himself of the royal line of Stewarts (he was Stuart, the french form from Mary Queen of Scots). The charge of the Highlanders ended in defeat and disaster, and the repercussions and aftermath led to much further bloodshed. We don't really know why the Stewarts were eventually found to be living at Sanna Bay, just around the headland from Kilchoan, a hundred years after the great battle that changed Scottish history forever, one of these being Julie's great great grandfather.

Following Culloden, things became quite difficult for people living in the highlands. One of the things that saved them was the introduction of potatoes, which could be grown in poor soil. They also made money from kelp (seawead), which was used for glass and soap production. Fishing was also a flourishing industry. But all this changed when cattle prices fell, kelp was no longer needed, and the fish had moved on. People struggled, and landowners saw money in something else - sheep. Families living on land owned under the old clan system were moved on (cleared) to make way for sheep. This happened later on the Ardnimurchan peninsular than other parts of Scotland. Families were cleared off lands where they'd been for generations under the old clan system, to make way for sheep farming by the land holders. Families ended up in scattered groups on impoverished soil, and expected to survive.

Sanna Bay was one such place. Villages that existed around the Ben Hiant grasslands were all cleared, and many families ended up at Sanna Bay and Portuairk, a neighboring bay. Thats where several Stewart families were known to be living in the 1840's and 50's, one of them Julie's direct ancestors. They are buried in the lovely little cemetery on the hillside overlooking the beautiful bay of the village of Kilchoan.

We sat there today, having climbed the lovely green hillside. We found numerous graves of the Stewarts, all of Sanna Bay. We knew her great great great grandparents (Allan and Mary Stewart) were buried in this cemetery, but no headstone could be found (many are unmarked). We sat there. In Julie's hand she had her Aussie flag that came with her from Australia. It flew behind her on the bike all the way from PAris, across Normandy, and into Dorset, Devon and Cornwall. The flag followed her up through England, across the Scottish border into the Highlands, to a destiny on a sunny morning overlooking Kilchoan Bay. She dearly wanted to leave her flag, sort of a part of her and the nation that had now become part of her, on the grave of her ancestor, but she was not confident of which grave. Where to put it, she just was not sure.

We looked up behind the cemetery to another hill. We were hoping we might see Sanna Bay, so we walked over the heather and between the thistles to the high mount overlooking the town, and especially the cemetery. When we finally reached the summit, we knew what to do with her Aussie flag. Someone had been there before us. They had made an altar of rocks from around the hillside. It was't tall, but an altar it was. The Scottish would call it a 'cairn'. It was obviously done with meaning, because the top rock was painted especially blue, with the white cross of St Andrew on the blue background - the national flag of Scotland.

It was a touching moment for us, as Julie gently placed her Aussie flag in the top of the altar of rocks, the flag contrasting so beautifully with the Cross of St Andrew painted on the rock. We couldn't quite see Sanna Bay, but we could see the cemetery as if we had been suspended over the top, we could see Kilchoan bay, the isle of Mull to the south across the water, and the outline of the rugged hills of the isle of sky beyond Sanna Bay. We stood holding each other - it was a tender moment for two pilgrims who had cycled a long way for this, especially one - a daughter of Kilchoan and Sanna Bay - who had somehow wanted to honour those who had gone before, and her great great grandparents (Allan and Anne Stewart) who, possibly following the clearances of 1853, and only newly married, decided to leave their families and the the hardship of Sanna Bay, and sail to Victoria, Australia to start a new life in 1854.

We fought our tears as we stood on top of this mountain, watching the flag flutter in the breeze, giving thanks to God for His incredible providential care of the Stewart family, the generations, and especially those a long way off in our own land of Australia.

We turned many times as we walked the long way back to Kilchoan Bay, for the final flutter of the little blue flag before it disappeared behind the heather. We felt it was worth the struggle to get out on such a tough road, the drenching of heavy rain, and now to face again the road back, to in this small way make contact with the generations that had gone before, and the rich heritage we have now to build upon. The rest of the day was just beautiful, neither of us wanting to face the thought of our departure on the bike early the following morning, but face it we did.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Kelvin & Julie

I am also decended from the Stewarts of Ardnamurchan. My g-g-grandmother was Sarah Stewart who was born in the tonwship Buarblaig on the slopes of Ben Hiant. I believe that after the clearance in 1828, she and her parents Hugh and Christian may have moved to Sanna.

Would be great if we could perhaps share any info that you might have on Julies ancestors Alan and Ann. Can't find a contact email address for you anywhere ?

Doug

Anonymous said...

Hi Doug - I have only just found your comment. Sorry it took me so long. I thought our email address was at the top of the Blog Site.

In any case - its kelvin.alley@aue.salvationarmy.org OR kelvin_alley@hotmail.com>.

My number is 02/96537619 (sydney) or 0416 128 440.

Would love to hear more from you. Julie's Dad's name is Doug also, and her great aunt was also Sarah. We are finding that the Stewarts had a habit of repeating their family names. Please make contact again. Regards, kelvin