Day 1
Friday 11th May - Ardnoe Point to Loch Glashan
Off at last, in Murdo's car to Crinan, whence I was about to walk west for a mile, in order to walk back in from my extreme-southwest start at Ardnoe Point. Intrigued by the bald word "Grave" on the OS map, at the extreme headland, with apparently an intermittent footpath to it, I was at first astonished by the clear, wide track - until I realised this was part of a new system of "forest walks", heading uphill to a viewpoint, while my route plunged into lush undergrowth and trees, and was hard to identify in places.
Boggy, mossy and reedy, it was nonetheless undoubtedly there, with even the occasional trace of footfall; it was also adorned with bluebell, pink and white campion, iris, orchis, buttercup and celandine, and loud with birdsong; latterly it emerged on to the rocky foreshore, where plants reduced to thrift and birdsfoot trefoil. Just as I despaired of finding any grave in the tangle of forest and bracken between a cliff and the shore, I spotted the top of an arched stone, and there in a grassy clearing was a simple memorial which read:
Erected by Isabella Estoh
In memory of her husband
JOHN BLACK
Feuar and Fish Cliver of Greenock
who died of cholera
on his schooner Diana
and is buried here
28th July 1832
Aged 45 years
Was she Spanish or Portuguese, I wondered? Did he find romance on his travels? Did his widow pay for burial here rather than at sea, because a cholera victim could not be brought into a village churchyard? Apparently there are many such sailors' graves around the British coast; this one seems quite carefully preserved. How many such sad stories there must have been.
Ah well, back to the 21st century, and to Crinan, with its moorings for the yachts of the wealthy, as well as other large boats, by its sea locks. It's a picturesque place indeed. Allan and I set off along the canal towpath, which is well-kept as a tourist attraction, with information board details ranging from the flora and fauna (warblers, otters and 25 varieties of butterfly among them) to the royal history of nearby Dunadd, seat of the kings of ancient Dalriada. The variety of terrain is amazing, from forest and sea to huge estuary, mudflats, and Moine Mhor, whose peat is four metres deep; here the wildlife is said to include 10 species of dragonfly. Further up the series of locks towards the long Summit Reach, the opposite bank is covered in mature deciduous forest, with the odd settlement on shore among the trees.
When we turned north into the planted forest, Allan and I made a short detour to view some impressive prehistoric cup-and-ring carvings on flat rocks. Then we said our farewells and he headed back to his car, while I walked for a few hours more, finding a real shortage of dry flat spots large enough even for my little Akto, anywhere near water, and eventually settling a short way up a bank, above Loch Glashan, close to rather unsightly new felling.
