Simply the Best (and Last) Islay Pillage

First there was a pillage video and now I can let you read the story about the last pillage. The story is written by Carl Reavey, Ileach editor, and was published in the Ileach of 14 August. Carl: The last Pillage departed Port Askaig at 8am on Sunday 8th August heading for Tobermory. Its primary purpose was to escape the midges, but there was also a plan to plunder enough whisky from the Mull distillery to provide one third of the spirit for the last edition of Pillage Malt. Fishing boats Highlander, Maggie B and Clansman towed three skiffs, the two Lagavulin Fundraisers ‘ISIS’ boats plus Boo’s ‘Isabella’. The fleet was supported throughout by tenders provided by Bertie Brown and Minty Cracknell.

Aboard the fishing boats were a pretty fearsome group of Pillagers who spent the journey sharpening their swords and preparing to do terrible deeds once they arrived. Blood-curdling tales of expeditions past were told and spirits were high as we steamed north to across a glassy sea preparing to do battle. On arrival at Tobermory Bay, (scene of many terrible naval battles and littered with the wrecks of Spanish galleons) the skiff crews boarded their craft in full battle dress and roared towards the shore, to be met with a nice cup of tea and an excellent meal at the Posh Nosh cafe. Continue reading....

The distillery manager at Tobermory was most welcoming too and cheerfully third-filled the cask. There was also plenty left over for quality control purposes. It was at this point that our Great Leader announced that the weather forecast was suggesting that a front containing some light drizzle would be passing by overnight and that we should therefore delay our departure until morning. This news was met with general rejoicing and so some of us went for a wee sail to practice our techniques while others repaired to the Mishnish.

About six inches of rain fell during the night. The sleeping arrangements (comprising the extremely comfortable and well appointed decks of our fishing boats) were prepared with roofing (a couple of sheets of tarpaulin held on by string), and some of us settled down to sleep. This was OK, in that it is actually possible to sleep while lying in a puddle, but it is difficult to sleep while lying in a puddle and having water drip straight into your ear. In any case, a Pillaging party came back from the Mishnish and danced on our heads while trying to find their sleeping bags which were actually hidden at the bottom of puddles. So most of us just got up and spent the rest of the night laughing. It was fine.

We set off at first light, and fought our way down the Sound of Mull sailing and rowing against the wind and into the rain. One of the skiffs was dismasted when a passing ocean liner nearly swamped us all, but her indefatigable crew somehow got it back together and fixed her using a broom handle, some string and a handful of six-inch nails. Once we passed Duart Castle however, the sun appeared, and our lives started to dry out. We sailed on past the most beautiful scenery in the world, and after a particularly spectacular passage down the Sound of Jura, past the Corrievreckan, the Grey Dogs and the Doris Mor, during which time the skiffs became airborne on several occasions and one went awol for a short while, we arrived at Craighouse shortly after dark. We were not quite so fierce-feeling by this time and it was great to get our brows mopped, a bowl of the world’s best soup, and a really comfortable sleep on the floor of Jura Village Hall.

Breakfast was simply the best, and once we had pillaged another third of a cask of wonderful Jura whisky (they didn’t seem to mind at all...), we set off for Ardbeg and home. An amazing sail in conditions as near to perfect as possible. Ardbeg was tremendous. Thanks everybody. What a great way to call it a day....