The galleon had sunk in Tobermory Bay after an explosion, and was believed to hold treasure to the value of well over a quarter of a million sterling. Three hundred and fifty officers and men are said to have gone down with her. She settled in clay to a depth of thirty feet, and many abortive efforts were made to recover the treasure, until, in 1912, modern salvage gear did fish up some goblets, dishes, and coins, if not the vast treasure itself.

The landlord being not only a good host but a very knowledgeable one, Walsh and he were soon deep in a discussion concerning the disposition of the Highland clans in this part of the world, Macleans, Clanranalds, an’ all. Mull is Maclean land and, besides its interesting history, is reputed to be one of the most beautiful of all the western islands. Many a time in a spirited céilidh had we roared out the chorus of

An t’ Eilean Muilleach (The Isle of Mull)

The Isle of Mull is of isles the fairest,
Of ocean’s gems ‘tis the first and rarest;
Green grassy island of sparkling fountains,
Of waving woods and high tow’ring mountains.

Tho’ far from home I am now a ranger,
In grim Newcastle a doleful stranger,
The thought of thee stirs my heart’s emotion,
And deeper fixes its fond devotion.

Dr. Johnson: ‘A most dolorous country.’

For ourselves, after spending many days on its coasts, we sing the song with greater fervour than ever, even if we missed the fountains.

The water front of Tobermory, with its sickle of houses, has a slightly foreign appearance—but this may be due to no more than that it was deliberately built as a fishing station in 1788. The streets on the steep slopes above the front are well laid out and very clean, with red postal boxes and tidy gardens. Trees are everywhere around the bay, which is wide and spacious and an excellent anchorage, being protected on its exposed or eastern side by the island of Calve. By the northern entrance yachts and steamers of all sizes come and go. Our concern over our guests reaching Oban the following day was immediately dispelled when we discovered a twice-daily steamer service to that town—on one trip the twenty-four miles being covered in about an hour and a half. So we stretched our legs on the steep slopes of the town and, proceeding inland, discovered an undulating wooded country not unlike that of the south-west of Ireland.

We had some excellent fresh fish for supper, and congratulated the landlord on such evidence of local enterprise, telling him of our difficulties in this respect on the West. He smiled. ‘Unless a trawler drops in, we get all our white fish from Aberdeen. That’s from Aberdeen.’

So he had the laugh on us. Once up in Kinlochbervie I explained how I had seen crofting housewives buying Aberdeen fish from a roadside van, while some friends were out in a boat in the bay getting quite a good catch. ‘How nice it must be’, said the Crew wistfully, ‘to have plenty of money.’