Memorial to Iain Oughtred, Boatbuilder and Inspiration

 

Iain Oughtred was born in 1939 and grew up in Sydney. He was a shy child, who didn’t enjoy his studies, but from early on he developed a fascination with aeroplanes and boats and the science around them. He became involved in racing the National Gwen dinghies that were a feature of the scene on the Harbour. These were flat bottomed racing boats, designed in 1942, with a hull just twelve feet long, weighing just ten stone (63.5 kg), but with the foresail on a bowsprit and what Iain called a “shy spinnaker” set on a ten foot pole, giving them a massive sail area and requiring incredible skill to keep them from turning over. By the 1950s the postwar availability of new glues and synthetic sailcloth increased the performance, so that he claimed, in an article he wrote in 1958, that one had been timed at 23 mph in a “gale-like wind”. He built seven of them and became the class champion. His long term friends knew him as Isig, from the number on his sail created from black tape.

After working for several yacht designers, in 1964 the lure of the Swinging Sixties brought Iain to London, where he established his own practice in his own distinctive style. There was at that time a huge interest in self-built sailing boats, led by the Daily Mirror sponsoring Barry Bucknell’s Mirror Dinghy at the 1963 Boat Show. Iain knew that a self-build need not resemble a shoe box and started putting out drawings of  hulls that were lovely as well as fast and seaworthy, accompanied by detailed building manuals, ensuring that anyone with the most basic skills could build one. His fascination with Viking designs led to his move to Scotland and then to Bernisdale on Skye, twenty three years ago. There he was truly in his element, working in his boat shaped drawing office and eventually reaching over a hundred designs. He’s best known for one of his last ones, for the community-built Scottish Coastal Rowing skiffs, with over two hundred in Scotland and almost the same number elsewhere. 

Iain was a quiet, deeply spiritual person, who invariably put others before himself. He was reluctant to embrace the internet, preferring to develop a personal connection with his clients, always available to take a call to resolve a problem. His drawings were works of art, invariably sent with a handwritten note adorned with tiny sketches. 

There is no easy way to leave this life, but it was a relief to know that Iain’s final few weeks were made as comfortable as possible in the brand new Broadford Hospital. His good friend and neighbour, Natalie Steele, had insisted on his being shifted from the back to the front of the building, with a view over Broadford Bay. As cards began to arrive from the boatbuilding and coastal rowing communities who owed him so much, and it turned out that one of the hospital staff was even building one of his boats, he was recognised as someone very special indeed. Although beyond the reach of any potential treatment, he was in no pain whatsoever, and so remained fully alert and cheerful. 

In his final days Iain had visits from his son, Haig, over from Lisbon, and his brother David, from Hawaii (what an international family!), also from many friends within easier travelling distance. Then in the morning of 22nd February we got word that he had quietly passed away during the night.

I understand that, by the time you read this, a quiet Quaker service will have taken place on Skye. I suspect that his sailing and rowing friends here and abroad will organise their own events later in the year. And, to preserve his legacy, a group of friends, with the agreement of his family, will be setting up a small charity to ensure that his designs live on and continue to support the tradition, culture and skills of which he was such a keen advocate.

The Scottish Islanders

 

It’s been great fun, and quite emotional at times, getting feedback from people who’ve read The Scottish Islanders. Stories have come in from sailors, including one telling me how her parents met through Jura and she now reads excerpts to her dad in his care home. The book’s not just for the old folk though. There are chapters dealing with approaches to saving the life of an old boat and even building a replica with modern materials, that should encourage those with energy to take on the challenge.

There are also some tales from the west coast, which should provide a nice read once you’re at anchor, and the book should sit nicely on a yacht’s shelf.

Because my publisher friends at the Scottish Yachting Archives decided on a high quality print, there isn’t a sufficient margin to put the book into bookshops and still cover the production costs, so marketing is entirely via social media on sites such as this, and huge thanks are due to admins. We’ve also had some excellent reviews, including the current month’s Classic Boat.

If you’ve already read the book, think about posting a review on Amazon. It’s listed there, but the best way to get a copy is via the publisher’s online shop directly,

shop.yachtarchive.scot

 

The Scottish Islanders in Classic Boat

I'm truly excited that Classic Boat Magazine has carried a nice review of my book in their March edition, following another yachting magazine, Watercraft, who were very quick of their mark. There have been reviews in a couple of newspapers, the Oban Times and the National, and also in the February edition of Scottish Field. To get a mention in the most widely read yachting publication is quite special.

For anyone who doesn't already know, writing the Scottish Islanders was a labour of love that took about a dozen years, but the research for it really went back fifty years to when I first started to explore the coastline and islands of Argyll and further afield. In May 1974 I sailed a small open boat, single handed, from Dumbarton round to Oban, where I’d rented a mooring at the Brandystone in front of Donnie Currie’s house at the south side of the bay.

Two years later I acquired Stroma, Scottish Islander number four. They were a fleet of identical basic racing yachts launched from 1929 onwards. She was just about seaworthy, and in those early days of the craze for plastic yachts very affordable, because old wooden boats could hardly be given away. She was an improvement on the open boat, with a basic cabin. She was mine for over four decades, during which she went into a serious decline, which was not entirely my own fault, followed by recovery, when I rebuilt her over eight years. She is now sailed by new owners, who like me were in their twenties when they took her over. Unlike me, they have now produced a crew, who one hopes will eventually help their parents handle the sheets and pull up the anchor.

During my custodianship I gathered a huge amount of information about the Islanders. In the years before the war they were sailed by some of Glasgow’s best known business families, who abandoned their home comforts each weekend to race against each other, regardless of the weather, sometimes the only fleet seen out on the Firth of Clyde. Their antics excited interest far beyond the yachting fraternity and were eagerly covered in the national press. It was fascinating to find that the mothers and daughters were often among the most competitive, and my researches unearthed some truly surprising stories. Here’s a quote from a Press interview in 1934:

“Do you think,” I continued, “that yachting is good sport for women?”

“The best in the world,” she laughed. “But you’ve got to take it seriously. It’s no use thinking you can only go out on nice days, and sit around the deck looking smart in trousers.”

The story of this remarkable young woman is one of the real highlights in the book. Her family allowed me access to her sailing diary, and photographs such as this one, the long skirt signalling that a woman can work a foredeck as well as any man.

The book moves on to describe the return of the survivors of those families post war, followed by a story of decline, and eventual recovery, when the Scottish Islanders survived in the hands of people who just wanted to sail and who appreciated craftsmanship, style and seaworthiness. Their survival has provided colourful tales of exploits and excursions, as new generations of sailors, very different from the original group, continue to discover the fun of exploring the west coast of Scotland.

I’ve added a photograph of Stroma racing off the Isle of Kerrera in West Highland Week in 2004, with myself and my pals the horseman John Wilson and the late Paddy Shaw aboard. The oldest yacht in the fleet, she won that race easily and we only failed to take the overall prize for the week because we’d spent a day in the Mishnish hotel in Tobermory.

The best way to acquire a copy of the book is on the direct link to the publisher's online shop. It's also on Amazon, but they make a significant deduction, which is painful, given the production cost of a high quality publication, with a small print run. Copies are already available in several marinas, Kip, Largs, Ardfern, Craobh Haven and Dunstaffnage to date, with more to come as we get around. here's the link:

https://www.shop.yachtarchive.scot