The Lighthouse Stevensons - Bella Bathurst [78]
several vessels came so near the Rocks as to cause, in the minds of the surveyors, who witnessed their temerity, serious fears for their safety. On one occasion in particular, a large vessel belonging to Yarmouth, with a cargo of timber, was actually boarded between Mackenzie’s Rock and the main Rock of Skerryvore by the surveyors, who warned the Master of his danger in having so nearly approached these rocks, of the existence of which his chart gave no indication. On another occasion, a vessel belonging to Newcastle was boarded while passing between Bo-Rhua and the main Rock; and so little indeed had the Master (whose chart terminated with the main rock and shewed nothing of Bo-Rhua) been dreaming of danger, or fancying that he was in a cable’s length of the reef, that he was found lying at ease on the companion, enjoying his pipe, with his wife beside him knitting stockings.
Perhaps the worst hazard of all at Skerryvore was the lack of any adequate shelter. The Bell Rock works had been well equipped with all necessary materials – granite from Aberdeen and Edinburgh, boats and supplies from Leith and a well-trained workforce drawn from the many fishing villages along the east coast. Skerryvore only had Tiree. From an engineer’s point of view, the island was a dismal prospect. It had no harbour and no shelter for shipping. It had no raw materials. Everything, from stone to wood to workers, had to be imported. The land was sandy, and the trees were brought by boat. ‘It is said,’ noted Alan, ‘that this total absence of fuel in Tyree is the result of the reckless manner in which it was wasted in former days in the preparation of whisky; but, however this may be, certain it is that the want of fuel greatly depresses the condition of the people.’ If the NLB seriously intended to build a light near the island, then ‘craftsmen of every sort were to be transported, houses were to be built for their reception, provisions and fuel were to be imported, and tools and implements of every kind were to be made.’
Perhaps Robert’s belief that a light on Skerryvore would be a simple business was merely a piece of shrewd politicking, designed to lull the Commissioners into advancing the money. If so, it was not a theory that worked. They peered again at Robert’s estimate (£63,000), then at their balance books, and then at the glut of building works already underway. They set up a special Skerryvore Committee to deliberate further. Finally, they insisted on making a journey to Tiree in the summer of 1835 to see for themselves. During the trip, their steamer lost its boiler rivets just off Skerryvore itself, and a fire broke out in the boiler room, crippling the ship. Though the fire was eventually extinguished, the experience concentrated the minds of the Commissioners wonderfully. Being stuck on a disabled ship just off the most dangerous rocks in Scotland was, they decided, a remarkably persuasive argument for a light on the Skerryvore, no matter what the expense.
The person elected as resident engineer for the works, however, was not Robert, it was Alan. By 1835, Robert Stevenson was sixty-three, still as energetic as ever, but clearly too old to spend four years heaving stones around on a sea-drenched reef in mid-ocean. In the twenty-four years that had passed since he completed the Bell Rock his business had swelled, his standing increased and his children had grown up. The constant journeying had kept Robert fit. Time and fine living had given him substance without fat. In portraits, he had kept the fierce gaze of his youth, but gained a weathered glow to his cheeks. Somewhere in his expression there remained that strange deceptive twinkle of his youth. He felt no particular weakness and remained as sharp as ever in mind and limb. But, as he grudgingly acknowledged, he was in no position to attempt such an immense and potentially debilitating project.