Page 4 - Climb May15 teaser

VISIONS
OF AN
ISLAND
STORY | MIKE HUTTON
For some climbers, Pabbay’s neighbouring isle of Mingulay offers the ultimate adventure, with its high, rugged and intimidating cliffs. Others find Pabbay offers a more accessible challenge, with plenty
of opportunities to the view the routes before committing to the inevitable onslaught.
Either way, you get the opportunity to live like Robinson Crusoe and climb routes that have only had a handful of ascents - or if you’re really lucky, none whatsoever.
As I slumped into my seat at the Oban ferry terminal the world started to spin. (On a previous journey to the island of Lundy, gale force winds had caused M. S. Oldenberg to list with such a force that I had spent three hours vomiting into the Bristol Channel). Fast forward a year and
I was not keen for a repeat performance, and
so had requested some drugs from my doctor. Mistakenly popping twice the stated dose I entered a heightened state, and the vibrant green of Nick Bullock’s hoody began to trip me out.
I later learned from top winter climber and anaesthetist Leanne Callaghan that I had severely over-indulged on the prescription drugs and was paying the price. We boarded The Boy James, Donald MacLeod’s prize possession in the form of a Lochin 33 fishing boat, and I could taste the diesel as his lads fired up the twin Perkins engine.
As we sailed into the sunset, I lay dazed
and confused as Barra faded and other islands dominated the view; Vatersay, Sandray, Lingay and many more looked like charming places.
The uninhabited island of Mingulay was our actual destination on this particular trip, but
after dropping the team on the dazzling sands of Pabbay’s beach, Donald took us on a welcome diversion to The Great Arch. It was surely the most beautiful rock feature I had ever seen (and the drugs had waned off at this point, I hasten
to add). The sheer scale of it is mind-bending. Glowing fiercely in the evening light, this hundred metre cliff of perfectly-sculpted Lewisian Gneiss literally disappears into the inky black ocean.
The vision impregnated my mind and I vowed to return one day soon. When that day did come, the circumstances by which we made it to Pabbay were totally out of our hands. A series of road works put paid to any early arrival at the ferry terminal, and we caught the boat by seconds.
All hopes of getting the place to ourselves vanished in flash as I learned that a certain clan of climbers had laid claim to the island for the period we were there. It later turned out that all my preconceived ideas that they would spoil the peace were proved wrong, and they ended up being
a fine bunch with which to share a Hebridean adventure of a lifetime with.
20
WWW.CLIMBMAGAZINE.COM
MAY 2015