16" Barrel Racer Border Tooled Feather Floral, Square Skirt, Chocolate Suede Seat, Large Border Tooled Chaps, #29 Braided Horn, Medium Oil, 12" Border Tooled Fenders, Rear Cinch (Feather Floral), Back panel border tooled, Full Tooled Pommel, Cheyenne roll, and Cantle], 4 D rings on back of cantle, Dual Riggings (Allison Ray and Standard).

Dunakin Castle, Isle of Skye. It is known by several names including Caisteal Maol (Castle Moil). It is the ancestral home of the Clan MacKinnon. It came into the clan around the year 900 A.D. when Findanus, the 4th MacKinnon chief, married a Norse princess known only as "Saucy Mary". It is also the place where King Haakon IV of Norway assembled his fleet of longboats before the Battle of Largs in 1263. Haakon's defeat there effectively ended Norse domination of the islands.

 

Photo replaced on 03 Feb 2011 with a larger version.

Kyleakin, Isle of Skye, Scotland

Castle Moil in the background

 

16" Barrel Racer Border Tooled Feather Floral, Square Skirt, Chocolate Suede Seat, Large Border Tooled Chaps, #29 Braided Horn, Medium Oil, 12" Border Tooled Fenders, Rear Cinch (Feather Floral), Back panel border tooled, Full Tooled Pommel, Cheyenne roll, and Cantle], 4 D rings on back of cantle, Dual Riggings (Allison Ray and Standard).

Kyleakin Harbour, Isle of Skye, Scotland

Postcard of the car ferry MV Broadford which ran between Kyleakin on the Isle of Skye and Kyle of Lochalsh on the mainland from 1954 to 1967. One of many ferries on this crossing all ultimately made redundant by the opeing of a bridge to Skye in 1995.

 

The ruined castle in the background is Castle Moil (Caisteal Maol in gaelic if you prefer). The green patch below the castle is due to the soil having been fertilised by the lime from the falling masonry. Quite a lot more of the castle has fallen since this pic was taken but I believe that in recent years steps have been taken to stabilise the remaining structure.

The amazing view from our apartment window.

Kyleakin Harbour on the Isle of Skye. The ruins of Castle Moil can be seen in the background.

 

Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved

The sea at Beira was extremely rough at high tide - it was impossible to swim as the currents were very strong, which is why the Portuguese beached the Willem Eggerts - to protect the lighthouse. I remember two incidents - the first was when I saved mum from drowning when I was about 7 years old - she couldn't swim and the waves knocked her under. Of course she panicked which made it worse and I had to drag her up out of the surf. The second incident was a year or so later involving one of their friends, Moilly Galvin. Dad warned Molly that the tide and waves were strong but Molly didnt listen and waded out with a lilo. She was ok at first until a wave crashed over her and dumped her unceremoniously on the beach. Molly was not amused but all the adults were in fits of laughter!

i cuando pones el pulpo kon tu buena pantalla de 90 hilos revalda en diaso sakas tu negro de sanchez y el papel ke la buena amelia konsigue un rasero medio choncho un pokito de xilol nomas pa atormentarnos i la estopa tirada en la banketa ,, buena musika en el radio algo ke aplake la lengua i el cel por si alguien la fastidia te mamaste estas bien DEntro te kitas los rieles pa no ensusiar el jale i de a brinkitos alkanzas pa tirar la medalla, raseas rapido porke se endurese el nailon i ese retardante ke buen ambiente patrocina por ahi de las 5 pm de vez en cuando ya cuando andas asta el chongo de las muñekas pones pause y te bas anka la timbona por uno de esos venonosos y un agua negra de vidrio y de rebeka al camello ,, ia tirada la tinta juntas todos los papeles i los abanikas dos tres veses pa ke nose enamoren ya liston craftsamn kae y los deja chulos nomas trucha kon los bordes no keremos nada chueko aya afuera,, por ke esos papeles son los ke nos tienen aki los juntas i duermen kontigo en la noche los estrenas en la moila i cada uno cuenta su historia si es posible los llevas de cumbia a donde andes ya despues alguien mandara un saludo,,,

ke riko esos dias ,, kon el tramo a media vista no falta kien se pare i pregunte ke ases? y nomas labia para no banderiarte pasa la tira i guacha el piso pero no me detengo de kitar i poner bond en la paleta total de rato los likaran aya juarez i la jesa diciendo te vas a kedar lukas kon ese tufo jaja la banda nomas kura y disfruta imprime y lleva acabo,,

ay nomas

 

De!...

Otter sculpture "Teko" by Laurence Broderick outside "The Bright Water Centre" at the Kyleakin Harbour ,Isle of Skye.

Castle Moil in the background.

 

Thank you for all your comments and visits

© Ralph Stewart 2013

 

Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved

 

Caisteal Maol (Gaelic: Caisteal, 'Castle', Maol, 'bare') is a ruined castle located near the harbour of the village of Kyleakin, Isle of Skye, Scotland.

 

The castle, an ancient seat of the Mackinnon clan, was a fortress commanding the strait of Kyle Akin between Skye and the mainland, through which all ships had to pass or else attempt the stormy passage of The Minch. The present building dates back to the 15th century, but is traditionally reputed to be of much earlier origin.

 

The castle is nearly completely ruined. In 1949 and 1989 parts of the ruins broke away in storms. The remaining ruins have been secured to prevent further deterioration. No excavation of the ruins has been carried out, or is planned.

 

Legend has it that a Viking princess named Saucy Mary, daughter of King Haakon, charged toll to all those who crossed the narrow body of water in front of the castle. As a reward, those who paid would get to see her boobs.

Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea,

Now steals along upon the Moon's meek shine

In even monochrome and curving line

Of imperturbable serenity.

 

How shall I link such sun-cast symmetry

With the torn troubled form I know as thine,

That profile, placid as a brow divine,

With continents of moil and misery?

 

And can immense Mortality but throw

So small a shade, and Heaven's high human scheme

Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc implies?

 

Is such the stellar gauge of earthly show,

Nation at war with nation, brains that teem,

Heroes, and women fairer than the skies?

   

[ At a Lunar Eclipse by Thomas Hardy ]

I went out to photograph the castle using a powerful torch but there was so much stray light from the pier at Kyleakin that I ended up just taking a long exposure instead. I might have persevered with the torch had it not been for a heron that got upset each time I used it, taking off and flying around the harbour, screeching.

"There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee."

 

—From The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert Service.

 

This photo showing just a small section of the famous Lake Labarge is a 3 exposure HDR. Original photos shot with a Canon 7D and EF-S 15-85mm Lens.

 

This image is best viewed on black. Press "L" on your keyboard, or click the "+" icon above the photo to see using Flickr's "light box" view.

Photos I shared on my Instagram about my trip to Europe.

 

Follow me on Instagram: www.instagram.com/timokl1/

Festival Grat'moila 2013

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.

 

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.

Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.

He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;

Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

 

www.potw.org/archive/potw22.html

Bill Moliski, Tim Fleming, Micky Fox, Kristy Moil

 

Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea,

Now steals along upon the Moon's meek shine

In even monochrome and curving line

Of imperturbable serenity.

 

How shall I link such sun-cast symmetry

With the torn troubled form I know as thine,

That profile, placid as a brow divine,

With continents of moil and misery?

 

And can immense Mortality but throw

So small a shade, and Heaven's high human scheme

Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc implies?

 

Is such the stellar gauge of earthly show,

Nation at war with nation, brains that teem,

Heroes, and women fairer than the skies?

   

Total Lunar Eclipse between 11pm of 15th to 1am of 16th June, 2011, Karachi.

 

Become a fan of Jim Dawson Photography on Facebook at FACEBOOK or visit Jim Dawson Photography

Otter sculpture "Teko" by Laurence Broderick at the Kyleakin Harbour ,Isle of Skye.

Castle Moil in the background.

  

Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved

 

This the ruin of Castle Moil, with the end of a rainbow off to the left. The sun was setting pretty much behind me.

 

I was disappointed. I was in the pub having a pint when the rainbow came out in full strength - it was the first full rainbow I'd ever seen. There was actually two rainbows - one just above this one. I ran like mad to get my camera, but by the time I got it, and got closer, this was what I was left with.

 

Oh well!!

 

wheres my pot of gold?

A Kyle Pharmacy postcard, I think this is taken on Kyle of Lochalsh pier looking over to Kyleakin, Castle Moil (Caisteal Maol) being visible to the left of the ship.

 

The ship is MacBrayne's SS Lochness which was the mail steamer to Stornoway from Mallaig and Kyle from 1929 to 1947 when she was replaced by the Loch Seaforth.

 

Posted on 12 September 1938, the message on the back refers to the writer's travels "via Glasgow, the Queen Elizabeth and the Exhibition". This is a reference to the Cunard liner, the Queen Elizabeth, which was launched from John Brown's shipyard at Clydebank on 27 September 1938 and the British Empire Exhibition held in Bellahouston Park in Glasgow that year.

The ruins of Castle Moil as seen from Kyleakin Harbour, Isle of Skye.

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Isle of Skye, Scotland

History

MISTY ISLE is a ring netter on the lines of a classic Scottish MFV and was built in 1948 by J. & G. Forbes of Sandhaven. She was commissioned by Macrae & Broadford of Skye for the herring ring net trade and she worked at this for forty years, before moving on to Stornoway Scallops.

 

In her early days, she was skippered by Evander Macrae and her partner in the ringnet trade was a boat called CASTLE MOIL. Later, Evander and Alistair Macrae bought ACORN from Anstruther to be her partner and Alistair took over as captain. She was reputed to be the most sea kindly, safest and fastest boat in this trade and sailed the Minch in conditions which kept the rest of the fleet at home. In later years, she fished for clams, until bought by her present owner.

 

Today, MISTY ISLE is a museum ship but kept seaworthy. Her keel, stem, stern and frames are made of oak and her planking and deck are of larch and pitch pine. Her engine is a Kelvin six cylinder diesel, with one hundred and fifty brake horsepower. Her steering is a chain and drum mechanism, also by Kelvin. She has an old-fashioned deck-hand compass and binnacle.

 

In September 2007, MISTY ISLE was relaunched after a long period ashore in Fairlie, having much work done to her underwater hull, interior, plus the Kelvin removed and overhauled. She enjoyed a trouble free cruise back to the Scottish Maritime Museum at Irvine, and is once again on the display pontoons there. She has also cruised around Arran and the Cumbrae Isles.

Info from National Register of Historic Vessels (NRHV)

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caisteal_Maol

Ione Saldanha exhibition.

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This is the village on the Isle of Skye where the main car ferry from the mainland at Kyle of Lochalsh used to land until the opening of the nearby Skye Bridge in 1995.

 

In the background is the distinctive ruin of Castle Moil (Caistael Maol) a bit more of which has crumbled away since this picture was taken giving it an even more jagged appearance nowadays.

 

On the left can be seen at its mooring the very first car ferry to operate at Kyleakin, the MV Kyle. She was introduced in 1918 and carried a single car athwart-ships (Some say she was a turntable ferry but I believe the "turntable" was fixed cross-wise.) She served Skye until 1938 after which (presumably minus the "turntable") she became a tender to MacBrayne steamers at the island of Coll (in the days before a pier was built at Coll in the 1960s).

Castle Moil, Kyleakin, Isle of Skye, Scotland.

The Creel boat Boy Ryan BRD38 entering Kyleakin Harbour.

 

Thank you for all your comments and visits

© Ralph Stewart 2007

 

Please don't use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved

 

© All rights reserved - Do Not Copy

Lake LaBerge

Yukon, Canada

 

"There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Laberge

I cremated Sam McGee." -Robert Service, The Cremation of Sam McGee

This picture dates between 1936 and 1952.

 

1936 was the date of introduction of the first of three "second generation" purpose built car ferries to Skye, each carrying two cars (or one bus as seen in this picture). They were MVs Moil (1936), Cuillin (1942) and Lochalsh (I) (1951)

 

1952 was the year when the slipway at Kyle was "concreted" over from the freestone structure seen in this picture to prepare it for the "third generation" of car ferries (4 cars and a passenger cabin) as seen here.

 

The 2 car ferries of the class pictured here had been phased out by 1958

Caisteal Maol (Gaelic: Caisteal, 'Castle', Maol, 'bare') is a ruined castle located near the harbour of the village of Kyleakin, Isle of Skye, Scotland. It is also known as Castle Moil, Castle Maol, Dun Akyn, Dunakin Castle Dun Haakon and Castle Dunakin.

  

The castle, an ancient seat of the Mackinnon clan, was a fortress commanding the strait of Kyle Akin between Skye and the mainland, through which all ships had to pass or else attempt the stormy passage of The Minch. The present building dates back to the 15th century, but is traditionally reputed to be of much earlier origin.

 

According to that tradition, Alpín mac Echdach's great-grandson Findanus, the 4th MacKinnon chief, brought Dunakin into the clan around the year 900 by marrying a Norse princess nicknamed 'Saucy Mary'. Findanus and his bride ran a heavy chain across the sound and levied a toll on all shipping vessels. The Princess lies buried on Beinn na Caillich on Skye, her face reputedly turned towards Norway.

 

Whatever the veracity of the castle's traditional history, there is good reason for supposing the existence of a connection of some kind with Norway. King Haakon IV is thought to have assembled his fleet of longships there before the Battle of Largs in 1263 (hence the name Kyleakin - Haakon's kyle). Haakon's defeat at Largs effectively ended Norse domination of the Scottish islands. Medieval and early modern documents also refer to the castle itself as Dunakin (Dun-Haakon), which is again strongly suggestive of a Norse connection.

  

Interior view of the large window on the first level - the thickness of the walls is apparent

The present structure is of late 15th or early 16th century construction. This is supported by historical documents and carbon dating. In 1513, a meeting of chiefs was held here and they agreed to support Donald MacDonald as Lord of the Isles. The last occupant of the castle was Neill MacKinnon, nephew of the 26th chief of the clan (c. 1601).

  

The castle occupies a headland above the village of Kyleakin facing the village of Kyle of Lochalsh across the strait. It is a simple rectangular keep of three stories. The unexplored basement level is filled with rubble and other debris and is believed to have contained the kitchen. The visitor today enters on the main level where the public dining space would have been. Stairs would have led up to the private apartments above.

 

The castle is nearly completely ruined. In 1949 and 1989 parts of the ruins broke away in storms. The remaining ruins have been secured to prevent further deterioration.No excavation of the ruins has been carried out, or is planned.

The Cremation of Sam McGee

BY ROBERT W. SERVICE

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.

 

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.

Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.

He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;

Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

 

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.

Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.

If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;

It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

 

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,

And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,

He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;

And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

 

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:

"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.

Yet 'tain't being dead—it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;

So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."

 

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;

And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.

He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;

And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

 

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,

With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;

It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,

But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."

 

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.

In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.

In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,

Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.

 

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;

And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;

The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;

And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

 

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;

It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."

And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;

Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

 

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;

Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;

The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;

And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

 

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;

And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.

It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;

And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

 

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;

But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;

I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.

I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.

 

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;

And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door.

It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm—

Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."

 

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.

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15.5" Trail Rider Fully Tooled (Floral #1), Round Skirt, Chocolate Suede, Medium Oil,

Sm Tooled Chaps, #18 Leather Horn, 12" Tooled Fenders, JWatt Hardware Package, Stirrups Moved Back 1" From Standard Position.

Festival Grat'moila 2013

15.5" Trail Rider Fully Tooled (Floral #1), Round Skirt, Chocolate Suede, Medium Oil,

Sm Tooled Chaps, #18 Leather Horn, 12" Tooled Fenders, JWatt Hardware Package, Stirrups Moved Back 1" From Standard Position.

Istanbul's waterfront is a lively and vital place. It's a pleasure to see; here in New York we largely forgot we had a waterfront for several decades, and now that we've spotted it again the race is on among developers to make sure that only the rich and privileged get anywhere near it. Leave it to us to duff up a river.

 

The Golden Horn, an inlet of the Bosphorus, separates several of the central neighborhoods in Istanbul. It is crossed by the Galata Bridge and by a busy network of ferries, charter boats, fishing craft, and other vessels. During my visit it's an impossible chalky blue near the shore, as if someone spent the last few centuries grinding up Turkish decorative tiles and tossing them into the water - which isn't far from the truth, in some ways.

 

Today I walk across to Karaköy on my way to Taksim Square, where I will spectacularly not meet up with my sister-in-law Jane. Halfway across the bridge I linger, looking at that powdery turquoise color and the flocks of jellyfish knotting through it. There are rows of fishermen above on the top deck of the bridge, and as I watch the water the midday call to prayer begins to sound, from left and right, from front and back. It's a cacophony and a thrill of noise. The sound, the colors, the rush and moil, draw me through myself like a thread through the eye of a needle.

 

"Wow," I think to myself. "I'm in Istanbul."

 

See the Istanbul Eminönü skyline bigger - dig the mosques.