Boat On The Isle Of Skye

We almost did not make it to the Isle of Skye. We drove up to Mallaig on a rainy, blustery day more suitable for March than for August. We braved a winding highway along coastal crags, and a one lane road through a northern rainforest, before we arrived at the old port town. Ferry service was delayed, and nearly cancelled. A busload of Italian tourists arrived at the last moment, saving the day. With this new influx of customers, the potential for profit outweighed the cost of bad weather and the Scottish ferrymasters finally launched their craft. The whole way there, my Scando-Celtic wife, fair-haired and five-foot-eleven, stood on the forecastle shooting her camcorder into the ocean spray. She stayed the course, while I repeatedly sought shelter in the passenger cabin. "I must have Viking blood," she boasted. Yes, I thought - that and the shutterbug gene. We saw this boat on the shores of Skye shortly after reaching land.