The Hebridean Mission

As the town hall clock chimes 1.37, the ferry starts to depart from the dock. A cormorant attempts to dry its wings on a rocky outcrop. A seal lurks between the old piers. 3 minutes later and the peat-fired boilers of the boat start pushing up backwards. "left hand down a bit, Mr Philips" and we do the nautical equivalent of a handbrake turn. I can see the tartan furry dice on the bridge swinging at a 45' angle.

We are now in the capable hands of Captain MacAubrey as he attempts to slip past the blockading French squadron and thence across the Minch to the next part of my journey.