A few pieces on the loss of the Mhari (researched by Duncan Richie)
CREW OF THE “MHAIRI” CN 130
Lost the 8th March 1911.
On passage Carradale to Campbeltown
Sleep on and take your rest,
The storms of life are o'er,
An anchorage ye now have found
Upon that blessed shore.
Anchored within the vale,
No more ye heed the rising gale;
No more ye dread the wild tide race,
For now you see your Pilot's face.
No more ye dread death's dark lee shore,
For Christ your Captain sails before;
The stormy tempest now is past,
The heavenly harbour gained at last.
We must not fret though bowed with grief
When God's own hand takes in a reef,
But take him as our guiding star
Till anchored safe beyond the bar.
John M. Campbell
Laird of Saddell.
In Memory of the
C R E W OF THE "M H A I R I” CN 130
Lost on passage Carradale to Campbeltown 8th March 1911.
We do not know why thus it was
That these brave men were ta'en,
But this we know, our loss though great,
Is their eternal gain.
For well nigh forty-seven years
Brave Watty sailed the deep,
Met many a storm and many a squall,
Yet safely passed through all.
But now with one tremendous squall,
No word or warning to the crew,
The Mhairi reeled, the waters rushed,
The angry sea engulfed the crew.
Not one was left to tell the tale,
No earthy friend to render aid ;
But Christ was there, He took the helm,
He steered the bark to Canaan's shore.
Well may it now be truly said
Of that brave noble crew,
They were lovely and pleasant in their lives,
And in death they were not divided.
The smack can come, the smack can go,
No more on pier will Watty shout ;
No more to the burn he'll turn his steps
To catch a rope when it's thrown out.
Dugie, Johnnie, and Walt so loving and true,
Cut off in their youth as a bud from the tree,
No more 'mongst their chums their fair forms we'll see,
They have sailed to the land where there is no sea.
Oh, cruel, treacherous sea, why thus was it
That thou didst open thy mouth so wide ;
After all 'tis but the casket thou canst keep,
Our dear ones' spirits have crossed the Jordan wide.
Crossed to the land where there is no sea,
Crossed to the land where storms are unknown,
Crossed to the land where the crown is won,
Crossed to the Saviour, and claimed for his own.
Mrs Gilbert McIntosh, Carradale
THE LOSS OF THE SKIFF “ MHAIRI ” CN 130
No eye beheld them when they sank out there so near the shore
No human ear their cries had heard amidst the tempest’s roar ;
With swift, relentless force it came, that squall from o’er the deep,
And the toll was ta’en of four brave lives who sleep their last long sleep
No warning note was sounded as the Mhairi left that day,
And o’er the sparkling water went bravely on her way,
And the hearts of those on board of her beat high with hope once more
That they’d reap a shining harvest ere again they reached the shore.
But now for those brave fishermen their day of toil is done,
For them the strife is ended, for them the battle won ;
But bleeding hearts are mourning in the houses by the shore
For dearly loved ones, lost to them, who will return no more.
What words of ours can comfort them that are so sore bereft ?
‘Tis God alone can heal the wounds that sorrow’s load has left ;
But our hearts are stirred within us and our tears are freely shed
For the widow and the orphans, and for all who mourn their dead.
Nor will they be forgotten soon, for well-beloved were they
By the folk around sweet Carradale, who long will mourn that day
When the fishing skiff, the Mhairi, sank out in Kilbrannan Sound,
And their friends, the McIntoshs, by a sudden squall were drowned.