A SKIFFER IN A LONGSHIP by Ali Grant

A chance conversation with Mid Argyll’s Kerr Mitchell led to me volunteering to row a Viking longship as part of the Loch Fyne Viking Festival, re-enacting the legend of King Magnus Barefoot. Here’s an insight into what life as a Viking was like.

WEDS

I pitched up at Tarbert in a blaze of sunshine. It’s a beautiful harbour town with a stunning wee castle. I wandered up a few steps to check this out and admire the views, where I was joined by a herd of woolly beasts, sporting the kind of coats that were like my very own Viking one. Suddenly I felt at home! They had a fine set of horns as well, 4 in fact, and they didn’t seem sure if they wanted to be goats or sheep.
                       

                                       

I wandered back down and bumped into Bob from Troon Coastal Rowing and his lovely partner, Mary and we settled ourselves in the Figgate Bar for the evening.

THURS

In the morning, we transformed ourselves as Vikings and headed to Inverary to greet the incoming longship. 

       

A crowd of roaring Vikings banging on their shields made for a dramatic arrival at the shore. No sooner had the  ship beached, than the Viking’s were out and charging up the jetty, to the sound of real horns being blown and more clanging of shields, Bob from Troon and myself in amongst it all.

It’s thirsty work being a Viking , so we made a very noisy raid on the Loch Fyne Whisky Shop who caved in right away and hastily pacified us all with a dram each. The George Hotel put up more of a resistance and the Vikings had to accept defeat and cough up £90 for a round! Thirst quenched, we roared down the main street, stopping to gain control of a bouncy castle, despite a valiant effort by the wee kids playing on it.

Then it was off to kidnap the actual Duke of Argyll, who clearly wasn’t dressed to be marched through the water and bundled into a longship. Oh well, we did un-kidnap him again, returning him safely to shore. Then it was back in the longship and off to raid.

The next victims were to be found in the sleepy town of Ardrishaig, some miles up the Loch. I climbed in the longship and took up my oar. My fellow crew were all strapping Vikings, who it transpired were in fact The Causeway Archers,  all the way from Ireland who were a good shot with a bow and arrow, but lousy rowers.  So, a bit of a ‘timing’ nightmare on a grand scale, with 10 oars. Thankfully a breeze got up and we were able to put the boat under sail, which meant we could enjoy its magnificence.

As we were on a tight time schedule, we transferred into one of the traditional boats in our flotilla and made ourselves comfy after pillaging its bar, towing the longship behind. As Ardrishaig approached, it was time to get back on the oars and get battle-ready. Ardrishaig were having none of it though and ambushed us from sailing dinghys, squirting us with huge water guns.

                   

As we rowed for shore, the baying crowds were also ready for us, the Primary School having constructed a giant trebuchet, a Viking catapult. Let’s just say we get pelted by water from all angles, with wet sponges, water balloons, B&Q orange buckets… and ended up drenched.

Despite all the action, the day was only just beginning and I downsized into a St Ayles skiff and set off on a 12 mile race down Loch Fyne with the 2 Mid Argyll boats competing for first place. My own boat with a crew made of from Royal West, Troon, Row Porty and Mid Argyll, slaughtered the opposition by miles! We rowed into Tarbert to be greeted by a lone piper, a huge burning beacon and cheers from the waiting crowd. It was a great feeling.

That night, in a pub full of Vikings and Archers, we graciously accepted the prize of a lovely engraved bowl and a bottle of whisky. We had a dram each and poured the remainder into pint glasses to share around the pub, as is the Viking way.

                     

It is probably worth mentioning that 5 minutes before our departure for the race, Kerr Mitchell of Mid Argyll sustained some nasty injuries in a fall. He played these down and managed the 12 mile journey, alternating between coxing and rowing. He wasn’t with us at the prize giving because he did in fact end up in hospital with torn ligaments in his foot and an injured elbow, so we awarded him the trophy.

FRID

Even Vikings need a day off, so I packed my rucksack and took the ferry over to Portavadie for the day, where I enjoyed miles of forest tracks and quiet beaches all to myself. Bliss.

SAT

Re-enforcements arrived in the shape of Larry and Jan and there was no time to lose, so we headed up to the castle to make Vikings of them. The bear, lynx and wolf had reappeared and the Causeway Archers were on hand to show us how to keep them at bay. Jan and Larry were hooked right away, with Larry quickly progressing from hitting the actual target to random shots into the grass behind, thankfully avoiding the wee bunnies basking in the sunshine.

We then watched a Viking battle re-enactment, complete with swords and axes. Some of these guys more than looked the part, in fact, if they weren’t being Vikings, they’d just be plain scary. It was a nice educational diversion though.

Battle over, we headed down to the harbour to watch a bit of torture and humiliation – the ‘Greasy Pole’ challenge. Basically, a whole tree log is greased with Fairy liquid and secured horizontally over a harbour wall. At the end of this, hangs an empty bottle. Bold (or foolish) Vikings were invited to try their hand at shimmying along the slippery pole, retrieve the empty bottle and holding it in their hands, somehow turn around and shimmy back along. Those completing the challenge, swapped the empty bottle for a full bottle of whisky. Hurrah! However, if this sounds easy, it certainly wasn’t and it was painstaking to watch. Those who looked like they were making good progress were rewarded with a bucket of cold sea water chucked over them, with the slightest flinch being enough to send them into the water below. Many just didn’t have the strength required to make it to the end, the majority failed on the turn and others, inches away from victory, dropped the empty bottle into the sea and therefore had nothing to swap. Aaaargggh!

As if that wasn’t enough excitement, the real spectacle was to come, with the official launch of the longship and the re-enactment of King Magnus Barefoot’s claiming of the Kintyre peninsula in 1093. It was said that if a Viking could row / sail around a piece of land, then they could lay claim to it. This wasn’t possible for claiming Kintyre as it was joined to the rest of Argyll by an isthmus, so Magnus portaged the boat instead, from West Loch Tarbert to East Loch Tarbert and today, the whole thing was done again. The boat itself is a magnificent construction of some 40ft long and a beam of 11.5ft. It is constructed from spruce and built right in the spot that the tree was felled.

        

…and so to the launching of the boat which was towed along the main street by rows and rows of Vikings and the whole of Tarbert who had turned out to wish it luck.

There was just a short time to eat and then scrub up for the evening ceilidh. There’s something surreal about seeing Vikings dancing the Orcadian strip the willow, but maybe they did! That suave Ancient Mariner, Malcolm and Carole had also now joined us with their amazing boat, which doubled as luxury accommodation for Larry and Jan. I suggested to Malcolm that it was like something out of the 1970’s, but that was meant as a compliment because I was thinking about ‘The Saint’ and ‘The Avengers’ kind of 1970’s.

          

The finale of the Saturday night was very beautiful. Earlier in the day, a small rowing boat, which had seen better days, was moored in the harbour just in front of the ceilidh tent. Around 11pm, darkness had descended and the Causeway Archers assembled to shoot a flight of flaming arrows into the air, to land in the boat and ignite it. It was a very serene affair and we watched in silence. The clever bit, however, was that the boat had been carefully set up with fireworks and therefore when an arrow hit a particular point or the flames consumed it, brightly coloured fireworks leapt into the sky. What a stunning and very emotional end to another great day.

   

SUNDAY

Sunday was the day we planned to leave early and start the long drive home. Glorious sunshine and the chance of a row over to Portavadie to escort the Viking longship talked us out of that one. So, myself, Jan and Larry roped in Malcolm and the equally suave Ian Sinclair from Mid Argyll and headed off across the Loch to the luxurious new marina complex in Portavadie.

                 

 We lounged about until the Viking ship arrived and we were all treated to a hearty feast involving pulled pork. Tasty.

There had always been talk of how we would get back from Portavadie again and whether we would have to hop on the CalMac ferry, but as it was, no one was going to stop us getting back in that skiff and simply rowing ourselves back across. For our dedication, we were saluted by a porpoise and a seal.

Whilst we were working up to actually leaving, we accepted the offer of coffee on Malcolm and Carol’s boat and sitting on deck in the sunshine, it was hard to leave, but eventually, we did.

IN SUMMARY

I met so many beautiful, inspiring and interesting people on this trip. I learnt things I didn’t know and saw things I’d never seen. There were so many boats to row or sail, with all kinds of oars and all kinds of rowers and I like to think we soaked up the whole experience.

Thanks to Larry and the Heart of Argyll whose photos I’ve used :-)