NOTE: Some of this is identical to what is written on Wikipedia, as both were written by the author of this website, stardust5980 (aka celesteshipping5980).
NOTE TWO: Huge thanks to Kenneth Kennedy and Kerry Kennedy for providing Kenneth's book 'ALL AT SEA' which provides almost all of the information on this page.
The Lost Tribe
- Life continued as normal following the completion of the Mendellsohn in Scotland saga, with repair work continued, such as replacing the faulty oil pump drive ring, refitting the mainmast, and touching up paintwork. Fishing trips continued, however, the presence of trawlers in the area was drastically reducing the amount of available fish to catch, thus the fishing trips gradually fell out of popularity and bookings plummeted.
As money concerns were getting more alarming, they received another call from the BBC, who were producing a television drama about a Lithuanian Jew who had escaped from home to live in the West in the nineteenth century named The Lost Tribe and required a sailing boat for it, deeming De Wadden suitable enough. They were to be in Lossiemouth on the Moray Firth on the east side of Scotland on February 10th, choosing their departure date as February 1st, 1980.
Their determined route was to take them up along the West Coast to Fort William, entering the Caledonian Canal for a long transit to Inverness, then another thirty miles to their destination of Lossiemouth. Kenneth and Alec would serve as crew as usual, with Alec's dog coming along to keep them company. They found a third crew member in the form of Jackie, whom Kenneth had been building a wall for. Jackie was insistent he came along and so he joined the crew as a third mate, acting as the cook. He was noted as being excellent with pressure cookers.
Their first leg, covering February 1st, 1980, ended with a night tied up at Tighnabruich pier, so they all retired to have a meal and later drank around the stove, with Jackie providing entertainment in the form of his accordion. Soon everyone went to bed, and throughout the night snow had fallen, with six inches of snow collecting on deck and freezing all of the ropes. Despite the challenge given by nature, they pushed onward for the mountains of Arran on the morning of February 2nd, 1980.
The ultimate target for the day was Campbeltown, passing the Kyles of Bute, Loch Ranza, and Kilbrannan Sound along the way, getting to their destination without a hitch, and spending some time in the town with Jackie as their guide.
They set off the day after, February 3rd, 1980, at 8:30 am to round the Mull, this time having a pilot aboard to avoid a repeat of last time, keeping a keen eye on charts and tide tables. The crossing was a success, rounding the Mull with zero trouble, and heading onwards for Gigha. By afternoon visibility had worsened and the easterly wind was getting stronger. They hugged the coast as usual for some shelter, keeping a sharp lookout due to the reefs in the area. They were able to pass safely into the bay, with Alec serving as the main lookout. They again visited the town, just as they did at Campbeltown, trying out a local hotel. They also visited a bar, surprising the owner as it was winter and tourism was low during those months. He was curious as to why three men had appeared in the town from a schooner. After some drinks they returned to the ship, checking the weather forecast before retiring for the night.
The next leg was to take them to Oban, setting off at 9:00 am on February 4th, 1980. The wind was still strong but fortunately remained easterly so they could still take shelter by hugging the coast. The snow experienced on the first morning of the voyage had returned, reducing visibility to mere yards, forcing the compass to be used for navigation whenever the snow decided to show itself. They were soon to pass Fladda, but the snow had grown stronger and lasted longer, making it a huge risk to attempt crossing the narrow channel between Fladda and the island next to it, so Kenneth turned the ship around. completing a full circle, then starting another. Kenneth sounded the foghorn to alert any vessels who may have been nearby.
Fortunately, the snow was gradually thinning, and halfway through the second turn Alec spotted the lighthouse at Fladda, and after it was made known Kenneth spotted it too. Swiftly, they got the ship into order and set again on course, dashing the channel while they still had relatively decent visibility. Upon passing Inch Island they were fortunate that the worst of the snow had seemingly been and gone, with light turning to darkness. By the time they reached the southern end of Kererra, it was dark, and the wind had increased to near gale force.
Passing up the sound, they took the ship to a boatyard on the northern end of the island, choosing to anchor there for the night. As they approached the anchorage about six small yachts came into view as barely visible shadows, dropping anchor two hundred yards away. The ship turned her bow into the wind, and after raising the riding light, Kenneth and the rest of the crew retired to the saloon. Over time, the ship began to swing broadside to the sea. She swang back in place, but slowly, at the same time drifting over towards the yachts as the anchor dragged on the seafloor.
Before any action could be taken they passed a yacht, surrounded by another three. De Wadden was enormous compared to the small boats and would cause serious damage to them in the event of a collision, which would be a costly mistake. Kenneth started the engine in order to move the ship away from the yachts, however, a collision seemed unavoidable until the yawing reduced, and the anchor managed to get stuck on something. Each swing from then on saw them narrowly missing the yachts, and soon Oban Lifeboat came alongside after being called out by someone who saw De Wadden drifting towards the yachts. The crew of the boat tried to persuade them to head up for a pier in Oban, motivated partially by the fact some of them were owners of the boats. Still, the anchor had finally held well and the yachts were no longer at risk so after some deliberation the unhappy crew reluctantly had to agree. The night remained anxious, for the wind put the ship at risk of dislodging anchor again, however, it eventually reduced allowing some time for rest.
The next morning, February 5th, 1980, they had a clear sky and a flat calm ahead of them, perfect conditions to make as much ground as possible. Alec was called to raise anchor, but the windlass engine had failed to start. An hour's work was spent repairing it, after finding a crack in a pipe. The engine was finally started but as the chain came up it stalled. They had to then repeat a process: Restart the engine, then assist the windlass manually. They did this until the anchor had breached the surface, with a large chain wrapped around it that was connected to the system of chains the yachts were attached to. Fortunately, the chain was removed easily by hanging the chain from the bow by a rope and lowering the anchor so it would go loose, dropping the chain back in the water and bringing up the anchor into the hawsepipe.
By the time this was all done, it was lunchtime. Kenneth feared they were behind schedule, setting off as soon as possible en route to Corpach, the start of the Caledonian Canal. There was a low chance of reaching there before nightfall, however, they continued onwards at a speed of 6 knots up Loch Linnie. Their bad luck continued as the weather grew harsh, with the snow returning and winds strengthening. It was also pitch black before they came to the Corran narrows. Visibility was practically nonexistent. They were able to spot Ballachulich Bridge, marking the end of the wide part of the loch. Having no way to determine their location or headway via sight, Kenneth cut the ship's speed to a crawl, positioning Alec on the bow with a searchlight.
The light picked up quite quickly, revealing a huge marker beacon directly ahead that was the visual signal for the entrance of the Corran Narrows. They were dangerously close to running aground, forcing Kenneth to take action by ordering the engine into reverse and opening the throttle as much as he could. The bow swung violently to port, the propeller forcing as much water past the rudder as quickly as possible as they managed to clear the tower, it disappearing into the snow.
It was decided that they would lower anchor as they circled towards the beach, retiring once it had caught on something. It did so fairly quickly, and once the bow had turned to the wind there was finally time for some peace. Jackie was keen to set off again after the weather cleared and visibility improved, however, their 'luck' was likely to soon run out so they all retired for the night.
The next morning, February 6th, 1980, they set off again, passing through the narrows on approach to Fort William. They were able to reach the entrance to the canal at Corpach without any problems and contacted the lock keeper for some advice on navigating locks. He gave a very simple yet indiscernible response, telling them to go as far as possible until there was no space left to move forward. After making it through the lock, Kenneth quickly ventured ashore to pay the fee to use the canal, which came to £91. Kenneth noted the fee as being 'extortionate'. They continued to navigate the canal, making their way through two locks until coming to a leg of the canal which followed a wide curve for around a mile.
The wind had picked up as they travelled along the curve, pushing the bow towards the bank, rising about eight feet in the air as it slid up the bank. The ship remained lodged on the bank for some minutes before sliding back into the centre of the canal with a rough grinding noise. Hastily the crew took the ship to the closest pier, taking time ashore to inspect the bow, finding no damage. They took time to have a break as they awaited their turn to navigate 'Neptune's staircase', which was the next set of locks up ahead. They were told to keep an eye out for a fishing boat which would soon pass, signalling their turn for the locks. Kenneth tied the ship from the stern and turned the engine on so they could cut the line and get ahead instantly, wasting no time.
As the boat passed, the crew onboard gave strange looks towards the unique ship, wondering where they were headed. As soon as they passed the stern rope was freed and they moved ahead, navigating the first lock without a hitch. This trend fortunately continued, navigating lock after lock after lock, tiring the crew out. Jackie gave Alec some whisky to restore his energy, though Alec did not drink and thus wasn't inviting to the idea, but forced it down him anyway, with some winces. Alec fell drunk almost instantly, and upon reaching the next lock he was stumbling about on deck, laughing as he tried to throw a rope ashore. Kenneth headed on deck to help him. Alec didn't know what was going on as Kenneth took the rope from him and threw it to the lock keeper, who was getting in on the laughter. Jackie was cracking jokes about Scotsmen being unable to take a drink.
Soon after, as was common on voyages outside of the Clyde, they were met with engine trouble as it refused to rev and they had major difficulty in starting it. After making it through the last lock they tied up at a small pier, taking leave for a meal in a nearby hotel as a reward. Kenneth was concerned for the engine, and they discussed why it could've had such issues. After some wine, their confidences were restored, with Jackie motivating the crew; 'you can do it, Kenny'. They had all tried their luck at impressing the waitress before leaving, all failing. They returned to the ship and retired for a night's sleep.
Kenneth woke at 7 am on the morning of February 7th, 1980, immediately heading for the engine room as Jackie and Alec prepared breakfast. Everything in the fuel system was running clear, and there were no leaks to be found either. He stopped to have some food before returning later, choosing to inspect the fuel pump. It was constructed in two parts, the 'top half held down onto the six cams by four bolts'. Kenneth removed the side cover and the bolts, revealing six springs, three of which were broken. He promptly began to search through the piles of spares left by the previous crew over the past 60 or so years, and to his luck discovered a box with six intact springs, wrapped in greaseproof paper. It took some time to repair the damaged springs but they were moving again around lunchtime, the engine running without issue.
They swiftly made their way through the locks at Gairlochy and up Loch Lochy, spending the night in a lock at Laggan, waiting for the morning of February 8th, 1980. it had snowed heavily overnight, coating the deck in six-inch deep snow, however, it was melting at a fast rate. After making it through the lock the charts were studied to see what the next obstacle would be, which was a swing bridge that carried a main road over the canal.
Upon reaching the bridge they were spotted and it began to rise until a fire engine had come up, meaning the bridge operator had to lower it again for the fire engine had priority. Kenneth had not anticipated this thus the ship was still moving forward at 4 knots, now three shiplengths from the bridge. While there was enough room to stop, they had lost steerage way which forced the bow to turn to starboard and hit the bank. The stern subsequently swung around and hit the other bank. The bridge was now rising again however Jackie signalled for the operator to stop. They would have to use something ashore to winch the ship free. Jackie devised a plan to hang a ladder from the bowsprit in order to get ashore without having to lower the dinghy. With some struggle, it worked, and they were ashore to head towards a tree off the stern which they would use to winch the ship free. Their longest mooring line was not long enough to reach from the windlass to the tree, so they tied another to it. They were fed through a fairlead at the stern all the way up to the windlass. Eventually, Alec and Jackie started the windlass engine to reel in the rope. Initially, the stern moved towards the centre of the canal, then the bow began to wedge itself free, moving out towards the middle. Kenneth was on the path ashore watching, though had to make a dash for the bowsprit ladder, narrowly making it back onboard.
They would have to recover the rope, unable to afford to leave it behind. Fortunately, a man walking his dog came down the path on the side of the tree and after explaining the situation he agreed to untie the rope. He was given urgency for as soon as there was slack the current would force them forward. Jackie informed the bridge operator that they were ready to move as Kenneth started the engine, calling for Alec to slacken the rope. The man at the tree was struggling to untie the knot, exhausting any slack Jackie and Alec could give him. The ship was at this point too close to the bridge to stop, and it was still not open. The man at the tree untied the knot just before it was thrust out of his hands as the last of the slack ran out. They narrowly cleared the bridge by a mere 3 feet, causing immense anxiety in the operator and the crew, especially Kenneth who was at the helm. The 300-foot-long rope was now trailing behind the ship as the ladder hung from the bowsprit, partially in the water.
After clearing the bridge they took some time to recover the ropes and the ladder, leaving the ship idle. They were able to descend the next locks successfully, and made their way through Loch Oich, reaching the locks at Fort Agustus. They experienced delay waiting for their turn to head to Loch Ness, putting them behind schedule. Kenneth decided to sail through the Loch in the dark, however before they could set off Jackie begged to make a stop to stock up on whisky, for they had almost run out. They were able to tie up to a small pier as Jackie ran off to buy the whisky, and they set off as soon as he returned.
The leg through Loch Ness was 30 miles, but the night was clear and there was a flat calm with little to no traffic on the straight run so they were not anxious about trouble. Alec took the wheel, heading for a small blue light far ahead. It was an unusual colour for what they assumed was a navigation light, however, that was a concern for when they reached it. They all took time to eat in the wheelhouse, keeping an eye on progress and any threats of collision such as other vessels. They had covered about half the lock at the point where a scraping noise rang out and the stern made an unusual movement. There was a muffled bump alongside it as the engine note changed. Vibration could be felt through the floor.
Kenneth shut the throttle before heading to the engine room to look for anything unusual, however, there was nothing to be seen until he noticed that there was more water leaking from the stern gland than was typical. He touched the casing to get a sense of where the vibration was coming from, and it was coming from the propeller shaft. He quickly headed back up to Jackie and Alec to inform them of his fears; a lost propeller blade. Vibration increased severely upon returning the engine to normal speed, however, it was able to make normal speed despite being down a blade. The propeller was made of iron and thus was prone to breaking if it was hit sharply. They continued ahead to try to reach the end of the loch, making good headway still. The blue light was flashing quickly, still a mystery to them. They took anchor for the night in 40 feet of water upon nearing the end of the loch, a quarter mile from the blue light. Kenneth tightened the stern gland to stop the leaking, and they all sat down to eat.
Their meal was interrupted, however, by furious shouts coming from the bow. There was a man in a rowing boat who explained that they had anchored in a government experimental area full of 'Nodding Ducks'. He was invited onboard and offered whisky and a meal by Jackie. He explained that he was a 'student in charge of an experiment to generate electricity from wind power'. The blue light was actually to warn people to stay away which they should've been made aware of upon entering the canal. They quickly re-anchored elsewhere, dropping off the student who was pleased with how welcoming Kenneth, Jackie, and Alec were. They all took their leave for the night, hoping the propeller shaft would survive an unbalanced load for the rest of the voyage, which was around forty miles.
At 8 am on February 9th, 1980, they set off on the final leg of the canal, with their destination being Inverness. They were free of any trouble for the first part of the day, save for a near incident involving power lines, with the mainmast barely clearing them. Halfway along a slow bend towards the last locks was a mooring small hire cruises, with about twenty sitting bow-on to the canal. As the relatively large De Wadden approached the mooring point, a gust of wind caught her bow and put her on a collision course with the cruisers. There was a bungalow onshore and the owner of the cruisers was watching from a window as De Wadden was approaching, unaware of the threat she posed to his boats. Kenneth had thrown the rudder hard over but the schooner was not making enough headway. As one last effort, he shut the throttle before opening it as wide as possible, which fortunately threw the bow clear of the boats, mere inches from collision. Alec had been waving at the man in the window to alarm him of the danger, however, he took it as a casual greeting and did not panic or have any knowledge of the temporary threat posed to his boats.
After that dilemma, they made it through the last set of locks, entering the Beauly Firth in the early afternoon, heading eastwards for Moray Firth, where their ultimate destination of Lossiemouth resided thirty miles away. The bilge pump was able to cope with the leaking stern gland and the engine in spite of an unbalanced load was running well. On approach to Nairn, thick fog rolled in which forced them to slow speed. The bow was not visible from the wheelhouse, thus Kenneth left Alec to steer as he headed for the bow. They were sailing purely by compass, sounding the foghorn every two minutes. The sound of waves lapping on a beach was steadily heard dead ahead, forcing them to stop the engine and turn the bow away from the sound. They then dropped anchor in thirty feet of water before retiring to eat, ringing the bell at steady intervals.
Fortunately, the fog took its leave after not too many hours, revealing the lights of Nairn, as well as a red navigation light, marking the safe channel into the harbour. They were instructed to follow the green light and thus had to move. After about half a mile, due to the falling tide, they grounded on a sandbank. Luckily there was no damage due to the soft sand and the calm water. They would now have to wait for the tide to rise at 2 am, unable to move until then. Jackie offered to cook up a meal for everyone, while Kenneth and Alec tuned up the VHF radio for use.
The night soon approached, however tide was not rising at an ideal pace thus Kenneth considered calling for a tug to tow them free. Burghead Coastguard was communicating with fishing boats via radio, thus Kenneth requested Jackie to contact them and ask for assistance. They said they would make enquiries as to the situation before getting back to them, however, before they could even give them an update the tide had risen high enough to sail off the bank, getting underway once more. Jackie quickly informed the Coast Guard that they were underway again and no longer required help, being told that De Wadden was visible on their radar and that they would monitor her progress.
Some time later they were contacted by the coastguard, who said 'De Wadden, De Wadden. This is Burghead Coastguard. You are too close to the shore. Alter course, head further north'. Action was taken immediately to remedy the situation, altering course about ten degrees. This same call was being repeated over the next thirty minutes, however, Kenneth felt apprehension about more course changes for he had calculated they were halfway across the firth. He altered course east. The coastguard then realised they had mistaken a fishing boat for De Wadden, and informed them that they were clear of any danger. The crew was tired, however, dawn was beginning to show itself on their final day of the long voyage, February 10th, 1980.
The harbourmaster soon called, providing information that they were close to the harbour. They were informed that the sea was too rough for them to make safe entry, thus they were forced to continue onwards for Buckie, situated ten miles away. A small fishing boat came alongside, telling them to 'head for yon wee black hill and you can't go wrong'. Kenneth handed the wheel over to Jackie in order to take a coffee break for some much-needed energy, however halfway through making his drink a roar sounded. Jackie shouted 'God Almighty. Look at this'. Kenneth was able to get up on deck in time, seeing an enormous 20-foot swell coming for the bow, its imposing facade towering over the relatively small schooner. The bow steadily began to mount the swell, riding over the crest and nose-diving into the trough. They came through four of these swells, making it through without damage or any man overboard. Fortunately, there was nothing left that the remnants of the recent gale gave and they soon came towards Buckie, being met by a small pilot boat at around 10 am. The pilot came aboard and took temporary command, taking the ship towards a white tower at the harbour entrance. After some time he handed the wheel back to Kenneth for he was used to fishing boats which were more powerful and did not give slow responses to rudder and engine orders.
Alec eventually came up and got Kenneth's attention, telling him there was water bouncing off the ceiling of the engine room, caused by a blocked bilge pump allowing the water level to reach the engine's flywheel which was throwing up a 'curtain of water' Kenneth cleared the blockage in good time, getting soaked in the process, rushing back to take the wheel. The pilot was surprised at the soaked skipper, but they were almost at the harbour so he had no time to ask questions.
They would have to make a right-angle turn to port upon passing the entry beacon, a risky move. Jackie was stationed on the bow, keeping an eye on the harbour wall. Nerves were high, however, the ship, unwieldy and with an unbalanced, broken propeller, cleared the turn with about six feet to spare. Minutes later, they were tied up at the quay, met by an enthusiastic director and staff. They wouldn't be able to make it to Lossiemouth until the next afternoon, however, the director had no issue with this, letting them spend the rest of the day to themselves. They went ashore to eat before retiring early for well-deserved rest.
On the morning of February 11th, 1980, everyone bought thermal undergarments to combat the east coast weather, as well as batteries, a food exclusive to the east coast of Scotland. After lunch, they set off for Lossiemouth with a pilot aboard to escort the ship. There was a strong current running across the harbour mouth so Kenneth had them sail in at full speed to have steerage way. It was a success, getting in without hitting anything and pulling off another awkward manoeuvre to turn her around a sharp corner into the inner harbour. After this, they were able to pull towards the quay and tie up to the harbour. The quay was littered with props provided by the BBC and sightseers.
After almost 11 long days, they had made it without damage, save for half a propeller. Filming began the day after, February 12th, 1980. This time around the crew was not taken on as extras, so Kenneth spent his time looking for a new propeller, however had no luck for the shaft was of Dutch design and had an unconventional taper, requiring it to be removed for modification. Kenneth decided to delay the work until the BBC was finished, allowing them free reign to work on the ship. Jackie was forced to depart for home early, for urgent business had picked up.
Kenneth and Alec would beach De Wadden in the outer harbour and remove the remains of their damaged propeller, taking it onboard. Kenneth took a broken blade he had lying around and fused it to the damaged propeller, making a makeshift but functional propeller that was not efficient. They were now ready to make the long way home, after a week's worth of filming and the propeller debacle. They departed at full tide on February 18th, 1980, anchoring for the night in a sandy bay north of Nairn at 5 pm.
By 11 am on February 19th, 1980, they were entering the first of countless locks on the journey home, starting at Inverness. At one point the propeller had thrown the stuck-on blade, so they were left with half a propeller for the rest of the voyage. The first flight of locks went off without a hitch until a lock operator opened the sluice gate too quickly, forcing a surge of water to push the stern, sending the bow into the gate, the bowsprit smashing through the rails, cracking and dislodging it. A discussion quickly began as to who was to blame for the incident and it was decided that the ship was allowed to carry on, leaving the mess to the lockkeepers. They were soon back in Loch Ness, anchoring at Drumnadrochit for the night, having to fix a rope to a tree due to the deep water causing anxiety that the anchor may slip. They spent another thirty minutes hammering and tightening bolts to reduce the stern leak, which was being done whenever they stopped, before heading to bed.
On February 20th, 1980, they reached Fort Augustus and made it through the locks, sailing across Loch Oich on approach to their stop for that evening, Laggan Avenue. They were able to reach the basin at Corpach on February 21st, 1980, putting to sea for the final leg of the journey home the morning after, February 22nd, 1980. The weather was being fair thus they made it down Loch Linnie well, nearing Oban by nightfall. They took anchor in a small bay on the west side of Kerrera, heading to bed.
They left for Gigha on the morning of February 23rd, 1980, the sun shining brightly. At some point fog began to roll in from the south, reducing the sun to a mere haze. They made way for Fladda hoping to keep an eye on the white tower to ensure they were heading the right way, however, visibility was far too poor. They soon came alongside a navigation buoy, initially plotting a compass course from it but then changing plans and circling it until the fog left. As they rounded the buoy at an idle, a prawn boat appeared out of the mist, coming alongside. A man on the boat recognised Kenneth and asked him if he was the man who delivered firewood to his mother at Clachaig. After some thought, Kenneth recognised him too as a resident on a small croft some miles from Dunoon, responding with 'Fancy meeting you here'. Turns out the man had taken up prawn fishing as a job. Kenneth asked for his opinion on the fog, with the man replying by saying that he believed it would clear up fast, and that Fladda was vaguely to the south.
The tide had been steadily falling thus the man in the prawn boat had to leave, while De Wadden and her crew continued to circle the bouy until a breeze came up, pushing the fog way clear. They spotted the white tower instantly and made their way for it, making it to Gigha, taking anchorage in the bay. They rowed ashore later in the night to look for peacock feathers, at the request of Edith, Kenneth's wife. Kenneth made it to the village, shop in the pitch black town, being answered by an anxious woman who handed him the feathers he asked for in exchange for the fee. He came back onboard and stashed away the feathers before heading to bed.
They set off once more on February 24th, 1980, a wet and windy day at first, waiting for the weather to clear until leaving at lunchtime. They were heading for the Mull, and towards 10 pm they were nearing the lighthouse, however were met with yet more fog which reduced visibility. They continued onwards via compass, listening out for the lighthouse horn to get an idea of their proximity to it. Eventually, they came right beside it, the fog beginning to clear. They pushed onwards around the Mull, heading for Sanda Island. They took the passage between Sanda and the mainland to save some time, almost colliding with Sheep Island.
Some hours later they stopped at Campbeltown, yet again servicing the stern gland. They took their leave and went to bed, waking early on February 25th, 1980 for the final run. The sea was calm, allowing them to reach the coal pier at Dunoon by 3 pm. They were forced to wait with the ship as the tide fell so they could access the stern shaft to repack it. As soon as the last of the work was done they headed home, choosing to remain at the coal pier for the foreseeable future.[1]
References
1. Kennedy, Kenneth M. (1985). All At Sea. Retrieved 2024-05-02.