Staffa

By Dave Goulder 



Poised on the gunnel

using the tide swell till the first foot

fastens to basalt 

and we are on our way.

Rain constant as we proceed

with each stride an adventure

as boots slip then grip the broken steps.

Hands seek a dripping rail – 

an occasional feature foreign to the island,
bolted to the black columns that tower

to the thick thatch of the rock’s summit.



We negotiate a light waterfall,

more descending water augmenting

the drenching rain while just below

the waves break and spill,

lapping our boots with each wet attack.

The wind, however, only a mild threat;

force three or four.


Then my left boot suddenly adheres to a rough surface

and I realise that I am grinning. I am enjoying this. 

Memories of gritstone climbs in the 1950s appear and
 swell

and I feel seriously alive.


I look back to see my wife hanging on to 

the last piece of rotting handrail.

While I am liberated, she feels vulnerable but determined. 

I take her hand and we continue shouldering the streaming 

rock wall till we turn the corner

and enter the cave.


The noise of the contained turbulent water

fills the gloomy space in this vast wet cathedral

and we see that we are surrounded 

by black organ pipes that soar to a roof 

of broken basalt columns long gone.

Today this is not a friendly place

but we go as far as we can

and of course, Mendelssohn is with us.



He won’t go till we do but no,

we are not quite ready, not yet. 

We must savour more minutes in the sodden air

to absorb and store the experience.

It is unique,

just like the island.

It seemed like a good idea. We were visiting friends on the Isle of Mull where I hadn’t been since 1961 so why not treat Mary to a birthday present of a trip to Staffa and Fingal’s Cave. It was the boatman’s first trip of the season and he was going out there even in this post-storm weather. Two by two the other people turned back to the boat, intimidated by the tide’s swell, the steady rain and the very slippery rocks but that did not deter this pair of Sutherland dwellers of many years. Our stay was brief and on our return we were offered a free trip in better weather. We declined the offer saying,”That was so special; a memory to savour. It wouldn’t be the same on a calm day.”