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South West Scotland 2021: Part Twelve

15 September 2021

So, today would end up an unexpectedly successful and emotional day, but lets start at the beginning.

A reflection shot of Dumbarton castle this morning proved to be an impossible task – with the view here being non existent due to thick fog. Thinking I could return at any time, I just decided to restart my Inverclyde leg of this trip. I could, after all, return to this spot any time.

My first location today was going to be Port Glasgow, and suddenly I found myself very keen to get a foggy minimalistic picture of the lighthouse here. Without a doubt it was one of the easiest shots to get, and I was there and photographing the sight happily, very quickly. The view was perfect, no background clutter to distract, and the lighthouse close enough to be clear in the frame. As I was playing with focal lengths and slight position changes there was even a guillemot happily diving in and around the waters. Ultimately he gave me one of my favourite shots of this trip so far.

Right here as well was Newark castle, so I walked over to that to explore. It was a really lovely looking building, pretty intact for a castle, and, judging by the signs here, one that you can go inside and visit (closed at this early hour of course!) Sadly the building was surrounded with metal barriers and just beyond the grounds the skyline was marred by cranes and building works from the shipyard behind. Finding any position to get a nice shot was impossible at the moment. In hindsight there are a few spots I could have tried, but I didn’t see them today. To the right however, there was a pier, so instead I went over to have a look there. I am so glad I did, because instantly I could see another minimalistic shot in the fog. The tide was ebbing out and the fog was lifting however, so I needed to be quick to keep it as uncluttered as possible. I needn’t have stressed too much however, the shots again were pretty easy, and worked out lovely! This location was a real gift today!

Since the fog was lifting here, I walked back around the grounds of the castle just to double check, taking a reference photo of that from the back on my phone, and then I popped River back in camper while I quickly took a snap of a sculpture I had seen and liked in the town. Again the clutter behind didn’t really give me a nice photo that I liked, but its a nice memory shot that reminds me of the morning.

With Port Glasgow complete for now, and the fog lifting enough to reveal a blue sky, I decided to go from here to find Greenock cut. There should be a waterfall from an aqueduct here, and from photos online it looked amazing! Not unlike Calder Falls, in that it was high, straight and man made, only for me, today, it was completely non existent – worse than Calder, not a drop fell!! Randomly, as I walked around the site I spotted a small, more natural looking waterfall to the back, and down a steep hill. It looked quite pretty so I climbed down the hill and tried a shot of that instead. It was near impossible to get much closer due to a steep drop from here, and I was a little disappointed at the plant growth cluttering the view from here, but it was still really pleasant. River and I just sat in the sun enjoying the peace for a little while before we left to look for something else. I imagine, if there’s water enough for the aqueduct falls to look nice, this one must look huge!

Now, here is where I totally deviated off the photographic plan, and decided that I might try and find something totally personal for myself, and not for the pictures. We were so close to a location I had wondered about for so many years, it seemed today would be the perfect time for me to go on a history hunt. The weather was good, clear, and comfortable, and I had my research with me just in case I wanted to brave this.

Lets give you a little backstory here. For many, MANY years I have been researching my family tree. On my grandmothers side, a line leads to this area with my great great Grandfather, Alexander Beith. He was born in Greenock in 1838. His father, John was born in 1805, and his father James in 1759. Both of those men were baptised in Inverkip but their home address was listed as being in a random, unknown place called Ferry de Keith (1805) or Back ‘o’ the World for the preceding years. (what a fabulous place name right?!!) Looking further back, the Beith family have been here since at least 1705, and James’ mother Janet Shearer was also born here in 1731, so this was home to at least a couple of families back then, if not more. Now this place has long since gone and isn’t on any map today. I had never found it despite years of trying. Before this trip however, I decided to really put the internet to the test, and after hours of searching eventually came across 2 old maps that listed ‘Ferret de Keith’, and ‘Back ‘o’ the World’ in a really remote spot near here. It was very unclear exactly where, so I tried to match the maps with google maps, and after several attempts thought I found the correct river and hill markings. I changed the google view from terrain to satellite, and, as I zoomed in, my breath caught. There, indeed, seemed to be an image of the footings of an old ruin of a farmstead, right here! I couldn’t believe it, over 36 years of searching, and here it finally was. I checked the maps again, and again, and this definitely was the place. Well I couldn’t miss checking in person since I was here, right?

I knew this was going to be a tricky one, since I have never gone off piste as such quite like this before, and I had no idea what to expect. With the complete unknown before me, I left River and my camera gear in the camper, and hiked off into the wilds of the Clyde Muirshiel Regional Park, travelling as light as I could. Phone, small packed lunch, water and a light jacket in case of rain.

Having never done this before, I immediately saw there was no path there, (well its not exactly a tourist location lets be fair!) So to start I simply walked the burn. The water levels were so low it was a massive help here. I then found myself following sheep tracks, wading through ferns and tall grass, criss-crossing the burn and low hills. At one point I spotted a sheep trapped in fencing. It was a horrible sight as the poor thing had gotten his horns stuck and there was no way he would ever be able to retract his head through the wire. He’d been here a while struggling too, since the whole square of the fencing was layered up with wool from his neck. I had to help. He panicked even more as I approached, so I covered his face with my jacket, and proceeded to manipulate his head and horns through the square as best as I could. It wasn’t easy, but he kept fairly calm for me, and once I managed it, he shot off away from me, the fence, and the site of his impending doom, running straight down to the river for a desperately needed drink.

I then carried on my way, following more sheep tracks. I waded through more grass and mossy growths, climbed up a steep hill, followed a fence line, gingerly walked across a wooden fence/bridge thing, and saw a dead sheep behind a fence blocking a hidden narrow, but steep, drop to a small burn (that sight made me sad) I hiked another steep hill, climbed over a fence, and walked on and on towards my ancestral home. After a while of this, I finally saw the remains of a stone building. This immediately choked me right up, so I double checked on Google to be sure – and yes – the location pointer had me right on top of the site. I had found it. 36 years of searching, and here it finally was.

I stood for a while, imagining the farming life here some 250 years ago. It might have been tough, but it actually had pretty much everything here to farm successfully. I had a really good look around, spotting not just this ruin, but a curved wall linked to it and hints at other buildings. I sent messages and photos to the children, showing them that this was where their ancestors had lived and worked for at least 4 generations in the 1700’s and early 1800’s, and sat to eat my lunch. I really took in as much of the site as I could, honouring the memories of those people who called this place home. It had been such an adventure getting here, I really didn’t want to leave!

I finally had to say farewell however, and contemplated the long trek back. Opposite the river from here, was a steep hill, a tree plantation and (according to google) a road. It looked tricky, but it was much more direct than the hike I had just struggled through. I decided to give this a try (belated apologies to any landowner if I trespassed by the way!!) I simply hiked straight across from here and tried what I could. Down a steep hill, slipping and sliding as I went, across the river, over a fence, up a steep hill, through a tricky boggy bit in the tree farm, over a rocky crag, fallen and dead tree stumps, more bog and suddenly, I hit the road. It was far from easy, but much quicker, and all I needed to do from here was to follow the road a few miles back to the van. As I walked back to Fred, shaking spiders and grass seeds from my jacket all the way, I found myself with a really big satisfied smile on my face. This had been such an emotional adventure, I was pretty much on a high all the way, despite my exhaustion.

The clouds had begun to roll in by this time, but I didn’t have any great plans for the rest of the day other than a gentle park and view location. This was going to be the Lyle hill view point overlooking Gourock bay, and I hoped for a sunset shot here. As the clouds thickened it gave me some nice moody shots but when it didn’t look like anything else was going to happen, I simply settled for the evening and made myself some dinner. No sunset perhaps, but I had gotten some nice moody shots, that was something, and there was always tomorrow morning. However, as I was eating I spotted a red afterglow in a small section of the sky and jumped out to grab that as well. I’d missed the best of it I realised, but it had coloured a little bit of the sky. I came came back to the van and half hour later had to jump back out again a third time! As blue hour had set in I noticed there was colour hitting a much greater area of the underside of the clouds, and that, teamed with all the town lights that were now on, made the scene look quite stunning!

The red in the sky lasted an eternity, but once it got totally dark, I settled back down for the night and hoped the dawn would be as promising as it hinted. Its a curious thing that sometimes the colour of the sunset lasts mere minutes, and other times it seems to linger on well into darkness. I wonder why that is…