February 3, 2007

• The Corryvreckan Whirlpool

  
  

  from http://www.bruichladdich.com/corryvrechan_whirlpool.htm Corryvreckan Whirlpool To the North of Jura is found the fearsome  Corryvreckan whirlpool. A natural phenomenon which is visible from the shore. An evil place.   Twice a day the ocean tidal surge of water is funnelled between  the long coast of Kintyre and the equally long Isle of Jura; the  bulge of water is squished through a  shallow and narrow channel between the North Coast of Jura and the Island of Scarba at 9 knots. With the floor of the channel shallowing from 200 metres to 60 metres and  at the same time a rock pinnacle, like a finger, rising up  from the sea bed to 29 metres from the surface, there is no surprise that the whirlpool was once described as a ‘conflux so dreadful that it spurns all description. At the distance of 12 miles a most dreadful noise, as if all the infernal powers had been let loose, is heard … and an eddy is formed which would swallow up the largest ship of the line.’ It is further amplified when  the  strong current flowing from the east meets very strong westerly winds. The author, George Orwell wrote his novel “1984″ while living on Jura near the Corryvrechan. When on his boat in the Gulf of Corryvrechan he was drawn into the whirlpool and his boat capsized. Luckily, he and his crew escaped death. Others have not been so lucky. Folklore has it that near this channel the local villagers were attacked by Norsemen and their homes were looted. The locals lured the marauders back into their boats and led them into these dangerous waters. Using their local knowledge of the tides and eddies, the local mariners were able to row ashore at the very last minute, whilst their attackers were swept into the jaws of the Gulf of Corryvrechan and were sucked to their death in the whirlpool. Another legend is that a Norse prince wanted to marry the local chieftain’s daughter. The Chieftain was not amused and  asked for advice from a wise old woman.  She  recommended that the prince prove himself to the chieftain  by mooring his long boat in the Gulf for two days and two nights.  If he succeeded, he could marry the girl.  The Prince  thought this was a no-brainer; especially as he was advised to have four warps  made from the hair of virgins – this being the strongest form of rope known to the Gods. The boat held its position  during the wild flood and ebb tides that occurred during the first day, but towards the end of the second, during the  final fury of the flood tide, one warp broke, the ship  was taken by the whirlpool,  and the prince was drowned.  His body was washed up near by the small bay of Ban a Mhuc where an ancient scull was found last century.  And the warps?  Well apparently one of the virgins lied. The sound is highly dangerous, and for experienced sailors only in  a well found boat,  with strong engine, and  only between the period of slack water (30 minutes) between tides – and on CALM day. A walk from the end of Jura on a strong westerly wind, at flood tide is well worth the effort.  Alternatively Gemini  water taxi  (click) can take you close enough. ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH (1819–61) The Bothie of Tober-na-Vuolich (1848). Book IX. As at return of tide the total weight of ocean, Drawn by moon and sun from Labrador and Greenland, Sets in amain, in the open space betwixt Mull and Scarba, Heaving, swelling, spreading the might of the mighty Atlantic; There into cranny and slit of the rocky, cavernous bottom Settles down, and with dimples huge the smooth sea-surface Eddies, coils, and whirls, by dangerous Corryvrechan: Comes back, swelling and spreading, the old democratic fervour. from http://www.bruichladdich.com/corryvrechan_whirlpool.htm

  
  

  NOTORIOUS WATERS  At the mouth of the navigable Loch Etive are the Falls of Lora, a dramatic seawater waterfall which unleashes awesome power on a spring tide ebb. At the fringes of the patch is the infamous Corryvreckan whirlpool, created as the tide pours through the channel between Jura and Scarba – regarded as un-navigable by the Royal Navy. To the south and north of our patch, lifeboat cover is provided by our two flank stations at Islay and Tobermory. In addition to assisting vessels in difficulties, Oban lifeboat is often tasked to assist at police or medical incidents. There is certainly no shortage of variety to the work of Oban lifeboat. from http://www.obanlifeboat.co.uk/patch.htm

  
  

  Excerpt from George Orwell: A Life By Bernard Crick from http://www.smithsonianmagazine.com/issues/2001/august/literature_orwell.php In 1947, Eric Arthur Blair took a short break from writing his novel, 1984, which he would publish two years later under his pseudonym, George Orwell. His novel, a profound attack against totalitarianism, would send waves across the world, introducing such terms as “Big Brother is watching you” into the popular lexicon. His experiences during this short break nearly prevented him from writing again. To complete the book, Blair had taken a home on the Inner Hebridean island of Jura. That summer, he invited his young nieces and nephews, including 3-year-old Ricky, out for a boating expedition. Unexpectedly, they came upon the Corryvreckan whirlpool and disaster soon struck. Of the incident, his biographer Bernard Click writes, “Orwell’s bravery, stoicism and eccentricity come across, but also his lack of common prudence, indeed excessive self-confidence or recklessness in practical matters . . . . to take children in an open boat across such a famous tidal race—legendary in the Western Isles—without being sure of the tides, could appear almost crazily irresponsible.” The following account appeared in a local newspaper and was based on an interview with Orwell’s nephew Henry Dakin. Eds. “[W]hen we turned round the point there was already a fair swell, the boat was rising and falling a lot, but we were not worried because Eric seemed to know what he was doing and he did spend a lot of time mending and caulking the boat, and we had an outboard motor. But as we came round the point obviously the whirlpool had not receded. The Corryvreckan is not just the famous one big whirlpool, but a lot of smaller whirlpools around the edges. Before we had a chance to turn, we went straight into the minor whirlpools and lost control. Eric was at the tiller, the boat went all over the place, pitching and tossing, very frightening being thrown from one small whirlpool to another, pitching and tossing so much that the outboard motor jerked right off from its fixing. Eric said, ‘the motor’s gone, better get the oars out, Hen. Can’t help much, I’m afraid.’ So I unshipped the oars and partly with the current and partly with the oars, but mostly with the current, tried to steady her and we made our way to a little island. Even though that bit of it was very frightening, nobody panicked. Eric didn’t panic, but nobody else did either. Indeed, when he said he couldn’t help you very much, he said it very calmly and flatly. He was sitting at the back of the boat, he wasn’t particularly strong, I was younger and stronger and sitting near the oars. We got close to a little rock island and as the boat rose we saw that it was rising and falling about twelve feet. I had taken my boots off in case I had to swim for it, but as the boat rose level with the island, I jumped round with the painter in my hand all right, though sharp rocks painful on the feet, turned but saw the boat had fallen down. I still had my hand on the painter but the boat had turned upside down. First Lucy appeared, Eric appeared next and cried out, ‘I’ve got Ricky all right’. Eric had grabbed him as the boat turned and pulled him out from under the boat. He had to swim from the end of the boat to the side of the island, still hanging on to Ricky. He seemed to keep his normal ‘Uncle Eric’ face the whole time, no panic from him or from anyone. And they were all able to clamber up on to the island. . . . So we were left on this island about a hundred yards long and I could not see all of it because the rocks rose in folds—we were left with the boat, one oar, a fishing rod and our clothes. Eric got his cigarette lighter out, never went anywhere without it, and put it out on a rock to dry. We had not been there three minutes when he said he would go off and find some food. A slightly ridiculous thing, it struck me afterwards, because we had had breakfast only two hours before and the last thing that any of us was thinking of was eating or of hunger. When he came back, the first thing he said was, ‘Puffins are curious birds, they live in burrows. I saw some baby seagulls, but I haven’t the heart to kill them.’ ‘I thought we were goners,’ he concluded. He almost seemed to enjoy it. We waved a shirt on the fishing rod about, and after about one and a half hours a lobster boat spotted us and picked us up. Picked us up with some difficulty, because he could not come up close to the island because of the swell and had to throw a rope across and we clambered along the rope one by one, Eric taking Ricky on his back. The lobsterman landed us at the north of the island and we just walked about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes and came across Avril and Jane working hard hoeing in a field. They said to us, ‘What took you so long?’”

  
  

  Letter from Orwell to Sonia Brownell in April 1947: “I do so want to have you here … we can go round to the completely uninhabited bays on the west side of the island, where there is beautiful white sand & clear water with seals swimming about in it. At one of them there is a cave where we can take shelter when it rains …” TEXT SOURCE The Complete Works of George Orwell, edited by Peter Davison (London: Secker & Warburg, 1998) from http://www.netcharles.com/orwell/pics/jura/8-wbay.htm

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