Islay: A Race Apart Grand Tours of the Scottish Islands

Among the islands of the Hebrides,

there's one that can rightly claim to have a separate identity.

A place that's set apart from the rest of the world.

As you can see, it's taking a wee bit more than the usual effort

to reach my destination.

I'm in a race against the elements, and the odds,

to reach an island with an ancient pedigree.

Stroke! Phew!

In this series, I'm continuing my island grand tour,

visiting the most northerly of the Shetland Islands,

exploring the Western Isles

and discovering the secrets of the loneliest places in Britain.

To see them through the water like this, it's amazing!

Scotland boasts a wonderful array of islands.

In fact, there are nearly 300 of them,

and that's not counting the myriad stacks, rocks and skerries

that surround 6,000 convoluted miles of coast,

from the Atlantic Ocean to the North Sea.

For this grand tour, I'm heading to Islay, the Queen of the Hebrides.

Lying only 15 miles off the coast of Scotland, Islay can lay claim

to breathtaking landscapes, ancient ruins and a fascinating history.

My route across Scotland's fifth largest island will take me

from its windswept coast, through its historic ports and villages,

to end on its highest mountain.

At one time, Islay was at the heart of a vast Gaelic empire

whose rulers controlled their kingdom by sea.

So this seems to be the most appropriate way

to arrive on the island.

The boat I'm struggling to row belongs to a long tradition of seafaring

that's kept alive by this dedicated bunch of Ileach,

as Islay folk in these parts are known.

Is that right, Rodney? You're an Ileach?

Yes, born and bred, Paul.

What's it feel like to be an Ileach rowing a boat?

Ah, lovely.

On days like this, no better place in the world.

-Well, it's taking my breath away, anyway.

-Aye, good!

Rodney Morrison and his crew, like many Islay folk,

have saltwater in their veins.

This is a skiff, and at one time boats like these

would have been a common sight around this coast.

So, in the old days, fishermen from Islay and all round

-the west coast would have used boats similar to these, presumably?

-Yes, aye.

-It would have been a hard old life, wouldn't it?

-Yep.

Yep, men were men in those days.

Skiffs like this date back to the 19th century

and were used for fishing, transportation and even racing.

And how do you think my rowing is?

-Do you think it's going to stand up to the pace?

-Aye, you're doing fine!

-You're keeping up with the stroke man, all the time.

-Ah-ha.

And just relax when you're doing it.

It's all about rhythm.

That's it.

Oh, missed that stroke.

Oh, it's all gone horribly wrong. THEY LAUGH

These Ileach rowers are not alone.

Coastal rowing is enjoying something of a revival

with races between rival islands and towns.

It looks fun, but it's a serious business.

So, I want to know if I have what it takes.

OK!

-Pull!

-Right.

Pull!

-Pull! Come on, Rodney!

-Ugh!

-Pull!

It's a three-way race

and I'm determined to show these guys what I'm made of.

-Pull!

-Come on, Rodney!

But it's lung-busting, muscle-tearing work

keeping up this blistering pace.

Oh, we're bombing along here, are we not?

Come On! Pull! Pull!

Oh, we're going beautifully now, man.

Pull! Pull! Come on, Rodney!

Ah, we've got them now, we've got the edge on them!

Now, I forgot to ask just how long a traditional skiff race

is supposed to last.

We've been going for a while now,

and there's no sign of the finish line.

It's a long row back.

-It's a hell of a long way back.

-I know!

My back's killing me.

I've got blisters on my hands, blisters on my bum! Ugh!

And then, fate intervenes.

-There's a broken oar!

-'Phew!'

A broken oar. Oh, a broken oar.

Right, OK...

'I'm not too sure if that makes us the winners.'

OK guys, on you go!

'But now, we have to row all the way back to shore.'

Urgh! Put my back into it... Ugh!

What's the furthest you've ever rowed?

Over to Ireland.

-What, rowing to Ireland?

-Yep.

-Really?

-How long did that take you?

-11 hours it took us.

11 hours?!

-The Guinness went down rather well.

-RODNEY LAUGHS

'Thankfully, today, we're not going to Ireland for a pint.'

Feeling a little tender in places, I gratefully land on Islay.

And begin my journey.

I'm heading inland to find the centre of an ancient empire

which rose to power by mastering the seas.

Finlaggan.

In the 12th century, this became the capital of the Kingdom of the Isles.

And this was where one of the most fascinating

and fearsome of Scottish rulers held court.

The Big Daddy of Islay history,

Somerled.

Somerled was of mixed race. He was half Viking, half Celt.

And given my own Norwegian connections,

it's hardly surprising I find his story a compelling one.

He was a true Celtic hero, who is said to have reclaimed the Hebrides

from the Viking invaders and staked a claim to the Scottish crown.

Somerled's game of thrones ended when he was killed in battle

while invading mainland Scotland.

But his descendants, the MacDonalds, continued to rule from Finlaggan.

The ruins here are centuries old, and the low walls all around me

are all that's left of the Great Hall, which at one time was

a centre of administration for the whole of the MacDonald lordship.

Just a few yards from Eilean Mor is the smaller island of

Eilean na Comhairle, or Council Island.

They were once linked by a stone causeway,

but today, I have to make my way by boat.

It was here that judgements were made

and laws passed for an empire which included the Western Isles

and a large part of the west coast of Scotland.

It's amazing to think that 700 years ago,

from this tiny little island, the MacDonalds, Lords of the Isles,

ruled over their empire of the seas, quite independently.

They fought their own battles, they made their own laws,

and on one occasion, even made an alliance with

the King of England against the King of Scotland.

From their actions, they seemed almost a race apart.

Which is perhaps why they've always done things just a wee bit

differently here on Islay.

I'm heading to the island's biggest town, Bowmore.

With its neat little streets and characteristic

whitewashed buildings, it's a picture postcard image of Islay.

But this is no ordinary seaside town.

Bowmore is actually Scotland's first planned village,

and its creation was one of the many innovations made by

a forward-thinking family, who would transform this island.

They were the Shawfield Campbells.

Islay House was once the home of the Campbell Lairds.

I've come here to speak to historian Margaret Storrie

who's written about how this remarkable dynasty

set themselves apart from other landlords.

Now Margaret, I've heard that the Campbells of Shawfield

were regarded, at the time and historically,

as the great improvers of the land here. Is that right?

Yes. Money was being spent on Islay to build

schools, churches, to help with drainage and other things,

and also, of course, one of them decided to clear

the old village from over here, which was the centre of the island,

and build a completely new town of Bowmore.

Bowmore was the brainchild of Daniel Campbell, who was one

in a long line of lairds who sought to maximise the island's potential.

Built along a geometric street plan,

it was inspired by the great cities of Europe he'd visited.

He had been a young dandy on the grand tour

and wanted to build the hilltop town of Bowmore

and built the church at the top of the hill with very wide

Georgian streets, which are double the width to allow the sun

to get into houses on both sides.

The Campbells bought the island in 1726. For the next

100 years, unlike many landlords, who invested in sheep,

they invested in people, developing industries,

such as linen manufacture, mining, fishing and distilling.

In the early 1800s, Walter Frederick Campbell went bigger and better

by building more planned villages.

Touchingly, he named Port Charlotte after his mother

and Port Ellen after his wife.

His plans were ambitious but they came at a cost.

They wanted to make a success of these

villages for the people

but the problem was the population kept going up and up and up

-and it got to 15,000...

-15,000 people living on Islay?

..which is four times what it is now.

But it's an awful lot of people to feed

if you're living on the land.

-Is that when things began to go wrong for the Campbells of Shawfield?

-Yes.

In the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars,

the entire country was in financial crisis.

Cattle and crop prices plummeted.

Walter Frederick Campbell tried to hold on to his cherished ideal

of an ordered society

but in the 1840s, the potato blight in Ireland reached Islay.

He went spectacularly bust to the tune of 800,000, which is worth

nearly three quarters of a billion today.

-Three quarters of a BILLION?

-Today.

-That's a serious debt, isn't it?

-Yes.

In 1847, bankrupt and ruined,

Walter Frederick Campbell left Islay House for the last time.

So he picked up some of his silver and china from here.

-There was a terrific thunderstorm.

-Right.

And everybody thought that this was the wrath of God

coming down on the Campbells.

The legacy of the Campbells, however,

continues to be part of Islay's identity.

And perhaps the most poignant insight into the character

of the last great island improver can be found here.

On the wall of the Port Ellen lighthouse, Walter Frederick Campbell

had a dedication carved to his wife, Eleanor.

It says, "Those who mid storms and tempests stray

"in dangerous midnight hours,

"behold where shines this friendly ray

"and hail its guardian power."

For me, the words inscribed here are not just a tribute to

a beloved wife but also a lasting memorial to a lost ideal.

Pressing on, my Islay odyssey brings me to the

charming town of Port Charlotte, founded by Walter Frederick Campbell.

I've come here to discover

how some islanders in the past became outlaws.

This was a time when high taxes forced law-abiding folk

to take to the hills to secretly produce what is today

the island's biggest export -

usquebaugh.

Government attempts to control the whisky trade forced it underground,

and soon, illicit stills at secret locations sprang up

to make the hard stuff, which was then smuggled off the island.

I've been told that behind these pretty, whitewashed cottages

I'll find someone who knows all about whisky-making the Islay way.

Ah, Duncan!

-How are you?

-Good to see you.

This is Duncan McGillivray and he's going to let me

in on the secrets of this ancient art.

This is an illicit still.

It's quite a Heath Robinson-looking contraption, isn't it?

-Yes.

-Quite primitive-looking.

It's quite primitive but it's quite effective.

But back, say, 200 years ago, there would have been a lot of these

little illicit stills hidden around the island?

They probably would have set it up quite close to a farm,

in a remote place where

there was an abundant supply of water.

'Until the 18th century, only the laws of nature limited

'the production of whisky in the Highlands.

'But then the laws of the Imperial South took an interest.

'No more distilling without a licence and a duty paid.'

'The Highlander ignored the negative and carried on.'

When they had the still up and running,

they presumably had people on the lookout,

standing guard in case the excise men were closing in.

I would think so, yes.

They could pack the whole lot up and move it on to a new site,

just like that.

It's not entirely clear when whisky was first distilled here,

but early Christian missionaries are known to have produced aqua vita -

the water of life.

And here in the peat bogs, pristine rivers and fertile fields,

Islay's farmers had everything they needed

on their doorstep.

So you had all the ingredients here, really, didn't you,

for whisky-making?

Yeah, barley and water, that's the two main things,

and the know-how.

'Take clear Scottish water, mash and ferment with yeast,

'then in a cauldron, boil and bubble,

'and be prepared to wait, to attend, with relishful

'but wary patience, the working of the miracle.'

So there'd be a peat fire boiling up.

The fire would have heated the wash in the still, the vapour

goes up into the neck, down the pipe into the condenser.

The finished product would come out here.

So they would have a cup below that pipe.

Would be a clear spirit, raw spirit.

I suspect it was pretty rough stuff.

-Have you tried it?

-I tried it once and never again.

HE LAUGHS Was it very, very strong?

Oh, it was terrible stuff. It was rough!

It was not matured at all.

If the spirit didn't kill you,

then spontaneous combustion might.

Explosions were not uncommon.

Of course, whisky production today is much safer and it's legal.

It's also big business. There are eight distilleries here

and it's the island's main claim to fame.

All the distilleries on Islay have a pedigree going back at least 100 years,

with the exception of one newcomer here at Kilchoman

which, uniquely, is located on a farm.

At one time, whisky production

was part of farming life on Islay

and Anthony Wills has set up his distillery along those

traditional lines.

Here, barley is grown, peat is cut and whisky

produced in much the same way as it was in the early days.

What I was looking to do

was to replicate how distilling really started in Scotland

all those years ago when

farmers grew a little bit of barley,

they fed their livestock and also made some whisky as well.

150, 200 years ago, there were over 30 farm distilleries

here on Islay, registered distilleries.

And, really, what we're doing here at Kilchoman is replicating

what they did and growing the barley, malting it,

distilling it, maturing it and bottling it here, all on site.

This is the first distillery for 124 years on Islay.

People must have thought you were nuts, surely?

I know, definitely, they did!

And in the spirit of those early whisky pioneers,

Anthony's had to deal with exploding boilers,

a fire and his fair share of trial and error.

So was it worth it?

Slainte!

Mm! Fruity and light, I would say.

It would seem so, and I definitely get the impression that Islay folk

like to do things their way.

And that's not just in their novel approach to producing great whisky.

In the past, they also had a rather unique approach to dentistry.

If necessity is the mother of invention,

then desperation must surely be the grandmother of superstition.

Now, I'll show you what I mean,

because this strange tooth-shaped stone

is a place where islanders came

when they're absolutely desperate and suffering from the agonies of toothache.

Now, the idea was to come down here armed with a nail and a hammer,

which I have.

Drive the nail into the rock with your hammer and cure your toothache.

I'm not sure how successful it was,

but the number of nails here suggest a few folk certainly gave it a try.

And, I suppose, if you did accidentally hit your thumb,

at least that would take your mind off your toothache!

Aargh!

The Tooth Stone is one of the more unusual ancient monuments on Islay,

which is dotted with relics of human occupation, stretching back 6,000 years.

In search of this rich and fascinating past,

Becky Williamson set herself the challenge

of visiting every grid square on the island.

I've walked virtually everywhere on Islay, erm,

I've done the whole coastline,

which took me four years.

And, then, I decided I'd do every single grid square.

Collect the grid squares? And how many of those are there?

743. This is the map that I used. It's all coloured in.

Everything green that you've done.

Everything green is the ones I've done.

-And have you done them all?

-And I've done 741.

So, so I've got two left.

Is there one spot you'd recommend a visitor to go to, above all?

-Above all?

-Yeah.

Probably, Soldier's Rock on the Oa. It's a very spectacular place.

We're headed to grid square NR2947,

otherwise known as the Mull of Oa.

You can walk there,

but the best way to appreciate the dramatic scenery is by boat.

It's a wild bit of coastline, isn't it, really?

Oh, it is. It's amazing!

And to get to Soldier's Rock, as they never say in the movies,

we're going to need a smaller boat.

And we finally arrive at Soldier's Rock.

Why on earth is it called Soldier's Rock?

Well, with a bit of imagination, you can

see the distinct shape of a soldier.

You'd need a lot of imagination.

There's his head and his nose and his...his sword sticking up.

-Uh-huh.

-And his armour. And he looks like a soldier.

-I do see a white band of quartz.

-Yes, it's lovely, isn't it?

Yeah. I can imagine that might be his belt.

That's his belt.

To be honest, I'm not really getting the soldier thing

but this is an impressive sea stack.

I suppose it's standing like a sentinel on guard.

Er, yes, that's what it is, yes. That's what it is, yeah.

What he's guarding is another remarkable natural phenomenon,

carved out of the rock by the sea.

And we're about to enter into... into the cave.

It's wonderful, isn't it?

It's actually more of an arch than a cave, isn't it?

It's more of an arch and you can walk over that arch,

which I've done lots of times, and it's quite scary.

What an amazing place.

What makes it really spectacular is the sunlight hitting

streaks of copper ore on the rock face.

That copper is so green, isn't it?

Isn't it! It's really vivid.

It's amazing!

Impressive though this is, I'm told that when the swell picks up,

this cave is impossible to escape from.

So it's time for me to move on,

heading round the coast to the north-west of Islay

and beautiful Loch Gruinart.

When the tide goes out, it leaves this vast expanse of sand.

This is one of the best places to find an expensive delicacy

that, surprisingly, was once a staple not just for these islanders but in many parts of Scotland.

According to archaeologists,

in the past oysters formed a significant part

of the national diet.

I somehow doubt that the good folk of this island

quaffed champagne with their oysters.

But by the 20th century,

overfishing and disease saw oyster numbers dwindle.

By the 1950s, the native Scottish oyster was extinct.

But here in Loch Gruinart, Craig Archibald is running

a family business that has brought oysters back to these shores.

-Oh, there they are. Can I pick one up?

-Yes.

So that's a year-old oyster. What kind of oyster is that?

It's a giga Pacific oyster, the most commonly cultivated.

'Encouraged by the success he's had with Pacific oysters,

Craig would like to re-establish the breed indigenous to these waters.'

The native Scottish, European oyster, one-year-old.

Now, he really is a tiny little fellow, I have to say.

Any idea how long it will be before you can eat that?

-Yes, I imagine it'll be three or four years.

-Right.

'They may take longer to grow than the Pacific oyster,

'but Craig is hoping his patience will pay off.'

I'm told the native

oysters are slightly sweeter,

but it might be a year or two before we find out.

-Right. It'll be worth the wait.

-I'm sure they will be.

I imagine. Do you think that would make a good breakfast?

Yes. At all times of day.

Never tried an oyster before, but...you know,

now could be the time.

'To quote Jonathan Swift, "It was a bold man that first ate an oyster,"

'and apparently Louis XIV liked them for breakfast,

'so if it was good enough for royalty...'

If you wait a minute or two, the juices come out of that,

-and that's actually your oyster liquor.

-Right, oyster liquor.

'And a spot of local liquor might make it go down a bit easier.'

There we go.

This is my very first ever oyster,

and, frankly, I'm a little bit nervous.

Here we go. Knees are knocking.

Actually, that's delicious. It is delicious.

THEY LAUGH

Oh, what a brave man. Yeah, it's not bad, is it? It's very meaty.

-You didn't expect it to...

-No, no - it's much meatier than I though.

-The texture's not what you imagined it was going to be.

-Wow.

'They say Napoleon downed a dozen oysters before battle.'

'Similarly invigorated,

'I set off on a long march to my final destination -

'the highest point on Islay, Ben Vicar.

'At over 1,600ft, it's not a Munro.

'This is, in fact, a Marilyn.'

Let me explain.

Munros are mountains over 3,000ft,

and Munro-baggers want to climb all 283 of them,

but these are not the only collectable mountains in Scotland.

The next list of summits to tick off are the Corbetts.

Now, these are peaks less than 3,000ft but over 2,500ft.

And after that, you've got the Grahams.

And then you've got the Donalds, or Elsies, as they're sometimes known.

And last but not least, you've got the Marilyns,

and a Marilyn is any mountain with a drop of 500ft or more from the top,

and Ben Vicar is one of these sublime peaks.

If you want to see Islay in all its glory, this is the place to come.

And if you're not out of breath from the climb,

the view from the top is guaranteed to take your breath away.

That's going to be very exciting -

just about to conquer my very first Marilyn!

Here we go.

Whoo!

Well, fantastic feeling and an absolutely magnificent view.

Northern Ireland over there.

The Mull of Kintyre.

I can see the mountains of Goat Fell on Arran.

Behind me I've got Ben Cruachan,

and, of course, the magnificent Paps of Jura.

And just out of sight down there

is Finlaggan, right at the heart of Islay -

once the centre of an extraordinary empire,

ruled over by a people who considered themselves to be a race apart.

Join me on my next Grand Tour, exploring a land of heroes.