‘The cars sound from here like buzzing bees,’ said the Mate.

‘That never find any honey,’ said the Crew.

A large pier ahead confused us, until we discovered two piers on our starboard side—the anchorage being anywhere inshore for half-a-mile south of them. This is an exposed place, for the prevailing summer winds are sou’westerly and quite a sea can beat up here in an hour. We dropped anchor in about four fathoms just south of the first pier and went ashore for stores.

In the sunshine, Fort William was alive with cars and visitors. As the core of extensive aluminium works, it is a busy place. In the summer time it is a natural tourist centre: for motorists doing the Big Glen, for steamer tourist traffic, and for climbers and hikers. Wild Glen Nevis behind it has a youth hostel half-way up. For those who are anxious to keep the Highlands insulated from taint of industry lest, inter alia, it affect the tourist industry, Fort William provides an answer, for the increase in tourism since the establishment of the aluminium works has been enormous. It is not implied that the tunnelling and pipe lines and factory buildings attract visitors (though they may, for we are drawn to behold the more striking works of our fellows), yet it does seem clear that the presence of these things has not kept visitors away. If our trip brought home to us one thing more than another it is that from the independence of crofting and sea-fishing or other natural industry to the dependence on tourism and sport is a regrettable descent in the history of any people, if it is not indeed the end of their history.

The Mate bought two haddock in Fort William and paid one shilling and eightpence for them, so the Crew brightened up a bit. (Some weeks later I went to sea with a seine-net boat, and the fishermen realised just about this sum net—for each box containing six stones of haddock.) Meantime the wind had risen and we were nearly beaten in rowing the two hundred yards to our boat. So up came the anchor and we rolled across to Camus na Gall on the other side, looked at it, went round the point into Loch Eil, looked at that, successfully circumnavigated the deceitful Corpach Islands, and came back to rest in Camus na Gall, which was sheltered, if with slow currents going everyway.

And we were glad we came back, for Ben Nevis that evening was a fine sight, with yellow sunlight on its massive shoulders and pure white cloud in its ravines. When the darkness descended, the town strung itself along the shore in points of light that went deep into the water, wavering like electric eels, while four bright eyes, penstock-high, looked out from the mountain’s dark face. Below, the factory was very bright, and further north the new town of Inverlochy was a faint wash of light.

Inverlochy! That marvellous march of Montrose and his men over the passes, and the surprise and bloody defeat of the Campbells!