FIRST WORLD WAR
Seaman ALEX MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 1 Aird,
Son of William and Mary Mackenzie, married to Marion
Royal Naval Reserve,
Service number: 3360/C
Date of death: 1 January 1919 at the age of 42 (Iolaire)
Gunner ANGUS MACIVER
Last address in Lewis: 3 Aird,
Son of Angus and Annie MacIver, of Stornoway; husband of Margaret MacIver, of 3, Aird Point,
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 14 March 1917 at the age of 41
Seaman FINLAY MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 4 Aird,
Son of Finlay and Effie MacLeod, of Aird Point, Stornoway.
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 25 September 1919 at the age of 22
Gunner KENNETH MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 4 Aird,
Son of Finlay and Effie MacLeod, of Aird Point, Stornoway; husband of Jessie MacLeod, of 5, Aird Point, Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 2 October 1918 at the age of 33
Seaman ALEX MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 5 Aird,
Son of Donald and Catherine Mackenzie, married to Margaret
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 1 January 1919 at the age of 41 (Iolaire)
Leading Seaman JOHN MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 5 Aird,
Son of Murdo and Effie MacKenzie, of 5, Aird Point, Stornoway, Ross-shire.
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 10 August 1918 at the age of 28
Seaman DONALD MACDONALD
Last address in Lewis: 6 Aird,
Cousin of MacLeods of 5 Aird
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 25 April 1917 at the age of 27
Private MALCOLM SMITH
Son of Angus and Mary Smith, of 7, Aird, Point, Stornoway, Scotland.
Last address in Lewis: 7 Aird,
Canadians
Date of death: 21 November 1916 at the age of 31
Seaman MURDO MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 10 Aird,
Son of Murdo and Margaret Macleod, husband to Anne
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 1 January 1919 at the age of 43 (Iolaire)
Driver NORMAN CAMPBELL
Last address in Lewis: 12 Aird,
Son of Donald and Jessie Campbell, of 12, Aird Point, Stornoway.
Ross Mountain Battery
Date of death: 9 August 1915 at the age of 20
Seaman JOHN CAMPBELL
Last address in Lewis: 13 Aird,
Son of Mrs. Marion Campbell, of Upper Aird, Portnaguran, Stornoway, Ross-shire.
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 15 March 1915 at the age of 33
WILLIAM CAMPBELL
Last address in Lewis: 13 Aird
Son of Norman Campbell
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 11 June 1918 at the age of 32
Private JOHN MACDONALD
Last address in Lewis: 15 Aird,
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 22 April 1916 at the age of 22
SECOND WORLD WAR
Seaman MURDO MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: Aird
Son of Donald and Catherine Mackenzie, of Stornoway, Isle of Lewis.
Service: Royal Naval Reserve (Patrol Service), HMS Greenfly
Date of death: 2 November 1939 at the age of 28
Able Seaman JOHN MALCOLM MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 5 Aird
Son of Norman and Catherine Mackenzie.
Merchant Navy
Date of death: 30 October 1940 at the age of 32
Second Officer NORMAN MURRAY MACDONALD
Last address in Lewis: 7 Aird
Service: Merchant Navy
Date of death: 11 March 1943 at the age of 21
Able Seaman ALEXANDER MACDONALD
Last address in Lewis: 7 Aird
Son of Malcolm and Annie Macdonald.
Merchant Navy
Date of death: 23 February 1943 at the age of 31
Seaman NORMAN SMITH
Last address in Lewis: 7 Aird
Son of Norman and Mary Smith, of Stornoway
Service: Royal Naval Reserve (Patrol Service),
Date of death: 19 August 1940 at the age of 33
Lieutenant MURDO SMITH
Last address in Lewis: 7 Aird
Son of Donald and Bella Smith; husband of Mary Smith, of Fort William, Ontario, Canada.
Service: Royal Canadian Navy Reserve,
Date of death: 23 December 1944 at the age of 45
Seaman ALEXANDER CAMPBELL
Last address in Lewis: 12 Aird
Son of Donald and Janet Campbell, of Stornoway, Isle of Lewis.
Service: Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 28 August 1940
Private MALCOLM MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 14 Aird
Son of Norman and Margaret Mackenzie, of Stornoway, Isle of Lewis.
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 11 September 1944 at the age of 39
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
Monday, 2 January 2012
Village memorial: Aignish
FIRST WORLD WAR
Deckhand MALCOLM MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 5 Aignish
Son of Donald and Catherine Macleod
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 1 January 1919 at the age of 19 (Iolaire)
Private MALCOLM MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 8 Aignish
Son of Murdo and Margaret MacKenzie, of 8, Aignish,
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 12 May 1915 at the age of 19
Died of wounds in France
Private MURDO MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 8 Aignish
Son of Murdo MacKenzie, of 8, Aignish, Stornoway, Scotland, and the late Margaret MacKenzie.
Canadians
Date of death: 8 August 1918 at the age of 28
Gunner RODERICK MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 8 Aignish
Son of Maggie MacKenzie, of 8, Aignish, Stornoway, Ross-shire; and the late Murdo MacKenzie.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 10 June 1918 at the age of 20
Seaman ALEX MACRAE
Last address in Lewis: 10 Aignish
Son of Evander and Christina MacRae, of 10, Aignish, Stornoway, Ross-shire.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 3 March 1916 at the age of 25
Seaman MURDO MACKAY
Last address in Lewis: 13 Aignish
Son of John MacKay, of 13, Aignish, Stornoway.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 18 January 1917 at the age of 26
Leading Seaman MALCOLM MACASKILL
Last address in Lewis: 16 Aignish
Son of William and Mary McAskill of 16, Aignish, Stornoway.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 12 November 1918 at the age of 31
Gunner JOHN MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 18 Aignish
Son of Murdo and Mary Macleod, of 18, Aignish, Stornoway.
Ross Mountain Battery
Date of death: 9 August 1915 at the age of 22
Private KENNETH CAMPBELL
Last address in Lewis: 19 Aignish
Son of Donald Campbell, of 19, Aignish, Stornoway,.
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 29 April 1917
Lance Corporal KENNETH MACSWEEN
Last address in Lewis: 21 Aignish
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 11 August 1915 at the age of 21
Second Lieutenant DONALD MACKAY
Last address in Lewis: 24 Aignish
Son of John and Christina Mackay, of 24, Aignish, Stornoway, Lewis.
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 17 November 1918 at the age of 31
Private RODERICK ROSS MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 24 Aignish
Son of Murdo and Jessie Macleod
Gordon Highlanders
Date of death: 1 December 1914 at the age of 17
King's Sergeant HECTOR MACDONALD
Last address in Lewis: 25 Aignish
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 25 March 1918 at the age of 23
Lieutenant JOHN MUNRO
Last address in Lewis: 27 Aignish
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 16 April 1918 at the age of 28
Gunner TORQUIL MUNRO
Last address in Lewis: 27 Aignish
Son of John and Margaret Munro, of 27, Aignish, Stornoway.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 31 January 1919 at the age of 24
Second Hand MALCOLM MACIVER
Last address in Lewis: 28 Aignish
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 1 January 1919 at the age of 37 (Iolaire)
SECOND WORLD WAR
Gunner KENNETH ANGUS CRICHTON
Last address in Lewis: 6 Aignish
Son of William and Henrietta Crichton; husband of Catherine Crichton, of Stornoway, Isle of Lewis.
Service: Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, also 65 (The Norfolk Yeomanry) Anti-Tank Regt
Date of death: 2 February 1943 at the age of 32
Seaman ALEXANDER JOHN MACIVER
Last address in Lewis: 23 Aignish
Son of Donald and Catherine Maciver, of Knock, Stornoway, Isle of Lewis.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 1 September 1940 at the age of 20
Deckhand MALCOLM MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 5 Aignish
Son of Donald and Catherine Macleod
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 1 January 1919 at the age of 19 (Iolaire)
Private MALCOLM MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 8 Aignish
Son of Murdo and Margaret MacKenzie, of 8, Aignish,
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 12 May 1915 at the age of 19
Died of wounds in France
Private MURDO MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 8 Aignish
Son of Murdo MacKenzie, of 8, Aignish, Stornoway, Scotland, and the late Margaret MacKenzie.
Canadians
Date of death: 8 August 1918 at the age of 28
Gunner RODERICK MACKENZIE
Last address in Lewis: 8 Aignish
Son of Maggie MacKenzie, of 8, Aignish, Stornoway, Ross-shire; and the late Murdo MacKenzie.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 10 June 1918 at the age of 20
Seaman ALEX MACRAE
Last address in Lewis: 10 Aignish
Son of Evander and Christina MacRae, of 10, Aignish, Stornoway, Ross-shire.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 3 March 1916 at the age of 25
Seaman MURDO MACKAY
Last address in Lewis: 13 Aignish
Son of John MacKay, of 13, Aignish, Stornoway.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 18 January 1917 at the age of 26
Leading Seaman MALCOLM MACASKILL
Last address in Lewis: 16 Aignish
Son of William and Mary McAskill of 16, Aignish, Stornoway.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 12 November 1918 at the age of 31
Gunner JOHN MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 18 Aignish
Son of Murdo and Mary Macleod, of 18, Aignish, Stornoway.
Ross Mountain Battery
Date of death: 9 August 1915 at the age of 22
Private KENNETH CAMPBELL
Last address in Lewis: 19 Aignish
Son of Donald Campbell, of 19, Aignish, Stornoway,.
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 29 April 1917
Lance Corporal KENNETH MACSWEEN
Last address in Lewis: 21 Aignish
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 11 August 1915 at the age of 21
Second Lieutenant DONALD MACKAY
Last address in Lewis: 24 Aignish
Son of John and Christina Mackay, of 24, Aignish, Stornoway, Lewis.
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 17 November 1918 at the age of 31
Private RODERICK ROSS MACLEOD
Last address in Lewis: 24 Aignish
Son of Murdo and Jessie Macleod
Gordon Highlanders
Date of death: 1 December 1914 at the age of 17
King's Sergeant HECTOR MACDONALD
Last address in Lewis: 25 Aignish
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 25 March 1918 at the age of 23
Lieutenant JOHN MUNRO
Last address in Lewis: 27 Aignish
Seaforth Highlanders
Date of death: 16 April 1918 at the age of 28
Gunner TORQUIL MUNRO
Last address in Lewis: 27 Aignish
Son of John and Margaret Munro, of 27, Aignish, Stornoway.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 31 January 1919 at the age of 24
Second Hand MALCOLM MACIVER
Last address in Lewis: 28 Aignish
Royal Naval Reserve,
Date of death: 1 January 1919 at the age of 37 (Iolaire)
SECOND WORLD WAR
Gunner KENNETH ANGUS CRICHTON
Last address in Lewis: 6 Aignish
Son of William and Henrietta Crichton; husband of Catherine Crichton, of Stornoway, Isle of Lewis.
Service: Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, also 65 (The Norfolk Yeomanry) Anti-Tank Regt
Date of death: 2 February 1943 at the age of 32
Seaman ALEXANDER JOHN MACIVER
Last address in Lewis: 23 Aignish
Son of Donald and Catherine Maciver, of Knock, Stornoway, Isle of Lewis.
Royal Naval Reserve
Date of death: 1 September 1940 at the age of 20
Village memorials
In the coming weeks, this blog will feature a daily post, remembering those from each village in Lewis who made the supreme sacrifice in the First and Second World Wars. The series will close in the spring with a similar output by street in Stornoway.
The parent site, Faces from the Lewis War Memorial, will undergo a major refurbishment in 2012, with a move to present each casualty and his information on an individual page.
The parent site, Faces from the Lewis War Memorial, will undergo a major refurbishment in 2012, with a move to present each casualty and his information on an individual page.
Sunday, 1 January 2012
The Iolaire story
This is the full story, as told in five parts between 7.30pm on December 31st and 9.10 am on January 1st.
It is Hogmanay 1918, and the war has been over for seven weeks. Survivors from the Western Front and the war at sea are flocking home. As are hundreds of sailors from the Highlands and Islands of Scotland. Three trains pull into the harbourside station at Kyle of Lochalsh, and hundreds pour onto the platform and adjoining quayside to join a ferry home. The Skye men can take the short hop to Kyleakin, or join the steamer north to Portree. The sailors and soldiers from the Outer Hebrides have a longer journey ahead of them.
The mailsteamer for Stornoway, the Sheila is alongside at Kyle, but it very rapidly becomes clear that she has nowhere near enough space to accommodate the hundreds that want to go home to Lewis and Harris. So, a cable is sent to the naval base at Stornoway, and Rear Admiral Boyle sends HMY Iolaire to Kyle to relieve the congestion. Iolaire, the former private steamyacht Amalthea arrives in the early evening, bumping into the pier as she docks.
A disorganised scramble occurs, where the throng of men divides between the Sheila and the Iolaire. No record is kept as to who goes on board which vessel. Some start off by boarding the Iolaire, then switch to the Sheila. Others do the reverse swap. Finally, at half past seven, Iolaire casts off and heads north. The Sheila follows suit in short order.
The year 1918 is drawing to a close and Big Ben in London is about to start striking the midnight hour. Six hundred miles to the north, HMY Iolaire is ploughing her way north through the Minch, passing between Raasay, Rona and the Scottish mainland. The weather, which had been reasonable upon departure from Kyle, is turning increasingly windy. A heavy swell is beginning to rise in response to the strong southerly wind. The lighthouses, which serve as reference points for mariners in the Minch, blink their messages to Iolaire. Milaid, on the rocky cliffs near Kebock Head; Rona; Tiumpan Head on the eastern extremity of the Point Peninsula; and Arnish, near the entrance to Stornoway Harbour.
In dozens of houses in Lewis, glasses are charged to the New Year. The last year of war is ending.
Dry clothes are draped over beds, a stew is heating over the fire. In the blackhouses in Ness, and the town houses of Stornoway. A kettle is at the ready on the stove. A plate, cutlery and cups on the table. From Eoropie to Brenish, from Lemreway to North Tolsta, and between Manor Park and Newton, the same scene is repeated over and over. Only two hours to go, the boat won't make Hogmanay. But it does not really matter, the boys will be home soon.
The clock strikes midnight. It is 1919.
Conditions in the Minch are now poor, and all on board Iolaire are glad that the journey is nearly over. The passengers, most of them familiar with the passage to Stornoway, are snoozing their way, lulled to slumber by the steady if roughish motion of the waves that Iolaire rides. The captain goes down below to rest, his second-in-command takes over on the bridge. A fishing boat is also on its way home to Stornoway, and is running a broadly parallel course to Iolaire.
The passengers can now see the lights of Stornoway ahead, as well as the familiar signal of the Arnish Lighthouse and its secondary beacon. All begin to stir and start to prepare for disembarkation, which is now only about a quarter of or half an hour away. But all is not well. The sound of waves striking shore becomes audible over the noise of wind and swell.
The next noise is a far greater one. Iolaire changes course abruptly, as the crew realise they have overshot the harbour entrance. But it is too late. At 1.55 am, the ship comes to a crashing halt on the rocks of the Beasts of Holm.
Iolaire was mortally damaged by her grounding, and would eventually slip from the rocks and sink into the depths beside the Beasts of Holm. Only her mast would be left showing above the waves.
Flares were let off, which were spotted by the fishing boat and the Sheila, which were running into Stornoway behind Iolaire. Conditions, however, were too severe for any direct help to be offered by any vessel, as they would place themselves into severe danger. One intrepid man managed to bring a hawser ashore, which was to become a literal lifeline for nearly four dozen souls. Others attempted to use the lifeboats, which were almost immediately swamped by the heavy swell, or smashed on the rocks nearby. For Iolaire only grounded about 50 yards from shore. Those who jumped into the sea drowned almost at once, or were smashed onto the rocks, left lifeless. A life-saving apparatus, a breeches' buoy, which had been brought from Stornoway, came way too late to be useful.
Some of those that survived made their way to Stoneyfield Farm, about half a mile from the scene of Iolaire's sinking, and their terrible news was relayed to Stornoway. The flares had been spotted from the town, but had been (mis)taken for celebratory rockets.
The houses waited. The stew over the fire, the teapot on the stove. The clothes on the bed, and the made up table. The families, friends and other islanders waited. Then news filtered through into, and from Stornoway. The Iolaire was lost. Several dozen had been saved. But so many more were not. A night of terrifying uncertainty drew on. Would he be among the saved?
It is early January, and daylight is still many hours away.
It is just after 9 o'clock, and the sun rises over the mountains of mainland Scotland. Its light sweeps west, and shows up a ship's mast protruding from the sea, only a few dozen yards from the shore of Holm Point. The figure of a man can be made out, as he holds on for dear life. As he has done for nigh upon seven hours. Others had been with him, but their strength had given out, and had fallen into the sea below. The man is saved from his precarious position. He had been one of about three hundred on board Iolaire who had left Kyle the evening before, expecting to arrive in Stornoway at 2 am. Instead, two hundred would never return home, and some sixty would never be retrieved.
A gruesome sight presented itself on the shores, beaches and rocky outcrops of eastern Lewis, around the bay of Stornoway. East to Knock, north to Sandwick and Stornoway, south to Grimshader. One hundred and forty bobbed on the tide, lost in the Iolaire. Those that could be retrieved were taken to the naval base at the Battery in Stornoway, to be identified and collected by family.
Those who had not yet had news of the tragedy would soon receive it, as elders of the church went round, the bearers of the news of loss. A brother, a father. An uncle, a nephew. A son, a cousin. No village was spared. No family who was not directly or indirectly affected. The stories abound, but are not readily told.
It is 2012, and dawn has broken on a new year. Three years ago, several hundred gathered at the little memorial at Holm Point to remember. It was a beautiful mild winter's day, with not a breath of wind. We looked south, across the Minch, where the jagged humps of the Shiants, the distant lines of Skye, and on a day of exceptional clarity, even the hills behind Kyle can be made out, 75 miles away. In this day and age, a short journey. In 1919, a journey that was never completed by two hundred and five souls.
Rest in peace.
A full listing of names can be found here
Postscript
The exact cause for the foundering of HMY Iolaire has never been fully cleared up, and theories abound. There are accusations of a cover-up by the Royal Navy, drunkenness on the part of the crew, and speculation on the factors played by the weather. It is not the object of this blog to apportion blame, or determine the exact cause for the tragedy. This is a tribute to the two hundred and five who perished at the Beasts of Holm that New Year's night in 1919.
It is Hogmanay 1918, and the war has been over for seven weeks. Survivors from the Western Front and the war at sea are flocking home. As are hundreds of sailors from the Highlands and Islands of Scotland. Three trains pull into the harbourside station at Kyle of Lochalsh, and hundreds pour onto the platform and adjoining quayside to join a ferry home. The Skye men can take the short hop to Kyleakin, or join the steamer north to Portree. The sailors and soldiers from the Outer Hebrides have a longer journey ahead of them.
The mailsteamer for Stornoway, the Sheila is alongside at Kyle, but it very rapidly becomes clear that she has nowhere near enough space to accommodate the hundreds that want to go home to Lewis and Harris. So, a cable is sent to the naval base at Stornoway, and Rear Admiral Boyle sends HMY Iolaire to Kyle to relieve the congestion. Iolaire, the former private steamyacht Amalthea arrives in the early evening, bumping into the pier as she docks.
A disorganised scramble occurs, where the throng of men divides between the Sheila and the Iolaire. No record is kept as to who goes on board which vessel. Some start off by boarding the Iolaire, then switch to the Sheila. Others do the reverse swap. Finally, at half past seven, Iolaire casts off and heads north. The Sheila follows suit in short order.
The year 1918 is drawing to a close and Big Ben in London is about to start striking the midnight hour. Six hundred miles to the north, HMY Iolaire is ploughing her way north through the Minch, passing between Raasay, Rona and the Scottish mainland. The weather, which had been reasonable upon departure from Kyle, is turning increasingly windy. A heavy swell is beginning to rise in response to the strong southerly wind. The lighthouses, which serve as reference points for mariners in the Minch, blink their messages to Iolaire. Milaid, on the rocky cliffs near Kebock Head; Rona; Tiumpan Head on the eastern extremity of the Point Peninsula; and Arnish, near the entrance to Stornoway Harbour.
In dozens of houses in Lewis, glasses are charged to the New Year. The last year of war is ending.
Dry clothes are draped over beds, a stew is heating over the fire. In the blackhouses in Ness, and the town houses of Stornoway. A kettle is at the ready on the stove. A plate, cutlery and cups on the table. From Eoropie to Brenish, from Lemreway to North Tolsta, and between Manor Park and Newton, the same scene is repeated over and over. Only two hours to go, the boat won't make Hogmanay. But it does not really matter, the boys will be home soon.
The clock strikes midnight. It is 1919.
Conditions in the Minch are now poor, and all on board Iolaire are glad that the journey is nearly over. The passengers, most of them familiar with the passage to Stornoway, are snoozing their way, lulled to slumber by the steady if roughish motion of the waves that Iolaire rides. The captain goes down below to rest, his second-in-command takes over on the bridge. A fishing boat is also on its way home to Stornoway, and is running a broadly parallel course to Iolaire.
The passengers can now see the lights of Stornoway ahead, as well as the familiar signal of the Arnish Lighthouse and its secondary beacon. All begin to stir and start to prepare for disembarkation, which is now only about a quarter of or half an hour away. But all is not well. The sound of waves striking shore becomes audible over the noise of wind and swell.
The next noise is a far greater one. Iolaire changes course abruptly, as the crew realise they have overshot the harbour entrance. But it is too late. At 1.55 am, the ship comes to a crashing halt on the rocks of the Beasts of Holm.
Iolaire was mortally damaged by her grounding, and would eventually slip from the rocks and sink into the depths beside the Beasts of Holm. Only her mast would be left showing above the waves.
Flares were let off, which were spotted by the fishing boat and the Sheila, which were running into Stornoway behind Iolaire. Conditions, however, were too severe for any direct help to be offered by any vessel, as they would place themselves into severe danger. One intrepid man managed to bring a hawser ashore, which was to become a literal lifeline for nearly four dozen souls. Others attempted to use the lifeboats, which were almost immediately swamped by the heavy swell, or smashed on the rocks nearby. For Iolaire only grounded about 50 yards from shore. Those who jumped into the sea drowned almost at once, or were smashed onto the rocks, left lifeless. A life-saving apparatus, a breeches' buoy, which had been brought from Stornoway, came way too late to be useful.
Some of those that survived made their way to Stoneyfield Farm, about half a mile from the scene of Iolaire's sinking, and their terrible news was relayed to Stornoway. The flares had been spotted from the town, but had been (mis)taken for celebratory rockets.
The houses waited. The stew over the fire, the teapot on the stove. The clothes on the bed, and the made up table. The families, friends and other islanders waited. Then news filtered through into, and from Stornoway. The Iolaire was lost. Several dozen had been saved. But so many more were not. A night of terrifying uncertainty drew on. Would he be among the saved?
It is early January, and daylight is still many hours away.
It is just after 9 o'clock, and the sun rises over the mountains of mainland Scotland. Its light sweeps west, and shows up a ship's mast protruding from the sea, only a few dozen yards from the shore of Holm Point. The figure of a man can be made out, as he holds on for dear life. As he has done for nigh upon seven hours. Others had been with him, but their strength had given out, and had fallen into the sea below. The man is saved from his precarious position. He had been one of about three hundred on board Iolaire who had left Kyle the evening before, expecting to arrive in Stornoway at 2 am. Instead, two hundred would never return home, and some sixty would never be retrieved.
A gruesome sight presented itself on the shores, beaches and rocky outcrops of eastern Lewis, around the bay of Stornoway. East to Knock, north to Sandwick and Stornoway, south to Grimshader. One hundred and forty bobbed on the tide, lost in the Iolaire. Those that could be retrieved were taken to the naval base at the Battery in Stornoway, to be identified and collected by family.
Those who had not yet had news of the tragedy would soon receive it, as elders of the church went round, the bearers of the news of loss. A brother, a father. An uncle, a nephew. A son, a cousin. No village was spared. No family who was not directly or indirectly affected. The stories abound, but are not readily told.
It is 2012, and dawn has broken on a new year. Three years ago, several hundred gathered at the little memorial at Holm Point to remember. It was a beautiful mild winter's day, with not a breath of wind. We looked south, across the Minch, where the jagged humps of the Shiants, the distant lines of Skye, and on a day of exceptional clarity, even the hills behind Kyle can be made out, 75 miles away. In this day and age, a short journey. In 1919, a journey that was never completed by two hundred and five souls.
Rest in peace.
A full listing of names can be found here
Postscript
The exact cause for the foundering of HMY Iolaire has never been fully cleared up, and theories abound. There are accusations of a cover-up by the Royal Navy, drunkenness on the part of the crew, and speculation on the factors played by the weather. It is not the object of this blog to apportion blame, or determine the exact cause for the tragedy. This is a tribute to the two hundred and five who perished at the Beasts of Holm that New Year's night in 1919.
93 years ago today - 09:00
It is just after 9 o'clock, and the sun rises over the mountains of mainland Scotland. Its light sweeps west, and shows up a ship's mast protruding from the sea, only a few dozen yards from the shore of Holm Point. The figure of a man can be made out, as he holds on for dear life. As he has done for nigh upon seven hours. Others had been with him, but their strength had given out, and had fallen into the sea below. The man is saved from his precarious position. He had been one of about three hundred on board Iolaire who had left Kyle the evening before, expecting to arrive in Stornoway at 2 am. Instead, two hundred would never return home, and some sixty would never be retrieved.
A gruesome sight presented itself on the shores, beaches and rocky outcrops of eastern Lewis, around the bay of Stornoway. East to Knock, north to Sandwick and Stornoway, south to Grimshader. One hundred and forty bobbed on the tide, lost in the Iolaire. Those that could be retrieved were taken to the naval base at the Battery in Stornoway, to be identified and collected by family.
Those who had not yet had news of the tragedy would soon receive it, as elders of the church went round, the bearers of the news of loss. A brother, a father. An uncle, a nephew. A son, a cousin. No village was spared. No family who was not directly or indirectly affected. The stories abound, but are not readily told.
It is 2012, and dawn has broken on a new year. Three years ago, several hundred gathered at the little memorial at Holm Point to remember. It was a beautiful mild winter's day, with not a breath of wind. We looked south, across the Minch, where the jagged humps of the Shiants, the distant lines of Skye, and on a day of exceptional clarity, even the hills behind Kyle can be made out, 75 miles away. In this day and age, a short journey. In 1919, a journey that was never completed by two hundred and five souls.
Rest in peace.
A full listing of names can be found here
A gruesome sight presented itself on the shores, beaches and rocky outcrops of eastern Lewis, around the bay of Stornoway. East to Knock, north to Sandwick and Stornoway, south to Grimshader. One hundred and forty bobbed on the tide, lost in the Iolaire. Those that could be retrieved were taken to the naval base at the Battery in Stornoway, to be identified and collected by family.
Those who had not yet had news of the tragedy would soon receive it, as elders of the church went round, the bearers of the news of loss. A brother, a father. An uncle, a nephew. A son, a cousin. No village was spared. No family who was not directly or indirectly affected. The stories abound, but are not readily told.
It is 2012, and dawn has broken on a new year. Three years ago, several hundred gathered at the little memorial at Holm Point to remember. It was a beautiful mild winter's day, with not a breath of wind. We looked south, across the Minch, where the jagged humps of the Shiants, the distant lines of Skye, and on a day of exceptional clarity, even the hills behind Kyle can be made out, 75 miles away. In this day and age, a short journey. In 1919, a journey that was never completed by two hundred and five souls.
Rest in peace.
A full listing of names can be found here
93 years ago today - 03:00
Iolaire was mortally damaged by her grounding, and would eventually slip from the rocks and sink into the depths beside the Beasts of Holm. Only her mast would be left showing above the waves.
Flares were let off, which were spotted by the fishing boat and the Sheila, which were running into Stornoway behind Iolaire. Conditions, however, were too severe for any direct help to be offered by any vessel, as they would place themselves into severe danger. One intrepid man managed to bring a hawser ashore, which was to become a literal lifeline for nearly four dozen souls. Others attempted to use the lifeboats, which were almost immediately swamped by the heavy swell, or smashed on the rocks nearby. For Iolaire only grounded about 50 yards from shore. Those who jumped into the sea drowned almost at once, or were smashed onto the rocks, left lifeless. A life-saving apparatus, a breeches' buoy, which had been brought from Stornoway, came way too late to be useful.
Some of those that survived made their way to Stoneyfield Farm, about half a mile from the scene of Iolaire's sinking, and their terrible news was relayed to Stornoway. The flares had been spotted from the town, but had been (mis)taken for celebratory rockets.
The houses waited. The stew over the fire, the teapot on the stove. The clothes on the bed, and the made up table. The families, friends and other islanders waited. Then news filtered through into, and from Stornoway. The Iolaire was lost. Several dozen had been saved. But so many more were not. A night of terrifying uncertainty drew on. Would he be among the saved?
It is early January, and daylight is still many hours away.
To be continued.
Flares were let off, which were spotted by the fishing boat and the Sheila, which were running into Stornoway behind Iolaire. Conditions, however, were too severe for any direct help to be offered by any vessel, as they would place themselves into severe danger. One intrepid man managed to bring a hawser ashore, which was to become a literal lifeline for nearly four dozen souls. Others attempted to use the lifeboats, which were almost immediately swamped by the heavy swell, or smashed on the rocks nearby. For Iolaire only grounded about 50 yards from shore. Those who jumped into the sea drowned almost at once, or were smashed onto the rocks, left lifeless. A life-saving apparatus, a breeches' buoy, which had been brought from Stornoway, came way too late to be useful.
Some of those that survived made their way to Stoneyfield Farm, about half a mile from the scene of Iolaire's sinking, and their terrible news was relayed to Stornoway. The flares had been spotted from the town, but had been (mis)taken for celebratory rockets.
The houses waited. The stew over the fire, the teapot on the stove. The clothes on the bed, and the made up table. The families, friends and other islanders waited. Then news filtered through into, and from Stornoway. The Iolaire was lost. Several dozen had been saved. But so many more were not. A night of terrifying uncertainty drew on. Would he be among the saved?
It is early January, and daylight is still many hours away.
To be continued.
93 years ago today - 01:55
Conditions in the Minch are now poor, and all on board Iolaire are glad that the journey is nearly over. The passengers, most of them familiar with the passage to Stornoway, are snoozing their way, lulled to slumber by the steady if roughish motion of the waves that Iolaire rides. The captain goes down below to rest, his second-in-command takes over on the bridge. A fishing boat is also on its way home to Stornoway, and is running a broadly parallel course to Iolaire.
The passengers can now see the lights of Stornoway ahead, as well as the familiar signal of the Arnish Lighthouse and its secondary beacon. All begin to stir and start to prepare for disembarkation, which is now only about a quarter of or half an hour away. But all is not well. The sound of waves striking shore becomes audible over the noise of wind and swell.
The next noise is a far greater one. Iolaire changes course abruptly, as the crew realise they have overshot the harbour entrance. But it is too late. At 1.55 am, the ship comes to a crashing halt on the rocks of the Beasts of Holm.
The passengers can now see the lights of Stornoway ahead, as well as the familiar signal of the Arnish Lighthouse and its secondary beacon. All begin to stir and start to prepare for disembarkation, which is now only about a quarter of or half an hour away. But all is not well. The sound of waves striking shore becomes audible over the noise of wind and swell.
The next noise is a far greater one. Iolaire changes course abruptly, as the crew realise they have overshot the harbour entrance. But it is too late. At 1.55 am, the ship comes to a crashing halt on the rocks of the Beasts of Holm.
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