Ernie Clayton and I had made a fairly late start to a day’s cruising in the Kyles of Bute. We had launched from the old wartime slip near Kerry Point in the Kerry Kyle, with provisions for the day. We made good progress up to Tignabruich and through the narrows and down to the East Kyle port Colintrave. We intended to sail to Rothesay and then return to our camp at Kerry Point. However, as we approached the end of Loch Striven, our curiosity was aroused by a queer structure that appeared to be floating to Loch Striven. In general appearance it looked like a long raft with odd bits of pipe, lattice work, machinery and scrap steel sticking up at odd angles. We turned into Loch Striven when, to our amazement, the whole odd assembly gently slid below the surface of the loch, leaving just a faint smell of oil.

As we sailed up Loch Striven, keeping well away from the immediate area of what we now realised was a rather odd submarine, we could see that some of the loch was ringed off with buoys. I expected to be kept clear by a surface patrol boat, but the whole loch was deserted. We then heard a peculiar noise that seemed to arise right in our dinghy. It was a medium pitched ping-ping-ping, repeated at about 1½-second intervals. We assumed that the submarine was watching us by some sonar device, but no patrol appeared, nor did the submarine re-surface to confirm our ideas.

By now the afternoon was well advanced, and Ernie and I decided to return to camp. We had made some progress up the East Kyle to Colintrave when the wind, which had been very light, failed completely! Ernie rowed much of the way back to the narrows and round the end of Bute. By now the light was failing, and before we reached Tignabruich we were sailing in darkness, a light breeze having made rowing unnecessary. There were still a few house lights on in Tignabruich, and fewer still in Kames as we sailed down the Kerry Kyle.

The slip near Kerry Point is unlit, but we hoped to find the slip easily by watching the house lights in Kames and then estimating our distance. What we had not allowed for was that most of Kames was in darkness, and we tried to come ashore about a mile too soon. Fortunately we recognised some of the rocks, and went about before coming too close to the shore.

The night was beautifully warm, and as we sailed along, the wake of the boat was bright with phosphorescence, just like hundreds of tiny electric light bulbs suspended around our boat.

We finally recognised our slip by the shape of the hills behind it, and as we came closer we could see the telegraph cable marker.

Ernie and I quickly got the boat on its trailer, and as we walked about the slip on the wet seaweed, the phosphorescence sparkled round our feet. We returned to camp well after midnight after a full day’s sailing.