The Eighth Sea

i.m. Hilary Chandler

I keep his compass on my desk

That it might steer me home.

A gift his widow gave me with

His hand-drawn charts of . . . → Read More: The Eighth Sea

Hope and Anchor

 

We’ve been holed up proofing Issue 9 at our favourite hideaway quay in the wild west. The place is otherwise more or less unused other than by seabirds, hoodie crows, and the occasional lobster looking for a telephone. Unused, that is, except for . . . → Read More: Hope and Anchor

From the Wheelhouse

 

Who goes to sea knows heart’s care. Groves blossom burghs grow fair meadows beautiful. World quickens. All things urge spirit to embark fare far by flood-ways though melancholy call of summer’s lord the cuckoo bode . . . → Read More: ‘From the Wheelhouse . . .’

SOS MV Naomh Éanna

from breakers’ yard to breaker’s yard . . .?

Image: Andrew McNeillie, mv Naomh Éanna in the breakers’ yard

 

To all who knew the Aran Islands before the Celtic Tiger came and went, leaving such havoc in its wake, . . . → Read More: SOS: MV Naomh Éanna

Agog to go to Gometra

 

My great interest and excitement as this year opens up is to travel to Gometra, an island in the Staffa archipelago, just off Ulva, to the west of Mull. Owned and farmed by Roc Sandford it is one of . . . → Read More: Agog to go to Gometra

Clutag Press 10th Birthday Speakers on YouTube

Norman Ackroyd

 

Katherine Rundell

 

 

Archipelago Issue 8 on the horizon ...

Gulls below Eoghanacht, North Shore, Inishmore

I was in Ireland shortly after Seamus Heaney’s death, in Dublin, then on west to the Aran Islands. Both as seen from the Poolbeg Light on the South Wall at the mouth of the Liffey on . . . → Read More: Archipelago Issue 8 on the horizon …

Weather (not) permitting . . .

 

Picture: ‘Gannet’s eye view’ by Andrew McNeillie

I should have asked my friend the gannet before I set out, for a gannet’s eye view of the chances. But it was not to be and I knew it in my heart. I . . . → Read More: Weather (not) permitting . . .

A Late Voyage to St Kilda

The New Year is already well underway. The long-hand on the clock is stretching towards the light, as a drowning person’s hand might reach for rescue. Spring is beginning to bury its dead. The evenings delay their roosting little-by-little. And when night at . . . → Read More: A Late Voyage to St Kilda

Winter Moorings

 

Anchored stern and bow, sea-logged to the gunwales:

So I have moored my mind for the winter ahead.

To be the more sea-worthy if all else fails

Come better weather and spring buries . . . → Read More: Winter Moorings