by With numb feet, I picked a path across the smooth slate and plunged into dark, glassy water. Seaweed licked my legs with gnarly, caramel-colored fingers. As I sliced through the still, salty bay, a scrubby black cormorant was circling above me. Floating on my back, I returned to his sight, then saw a buzzard who was also watching from a nearby rocky outcrop.
Swimming where otters and seals are common is felt to disturb the natural balance on Luing (“Ling”), a sparsely populated island in the Inner Indies. The largest of the Slinte Islands flourished in the late 19th century, when 15 quarries produced hand-cut slates that roofed buildings around the world. But the industry failed after the Second World War, when slate production on the mainland became faster and cheaper, and the quarries went under water.
The island’s population of more than 600 people left and only around 167 people now live on the Ship. Not only is there no pub but there hasn’t been one for a hundred years. The small village shop keeps unorthodox times. Meanwhile the wildlife – common and green seals, red deer and fallow deer, otters and birds – is thriving.
Luing is a place to visit if you want to switch off, reconnect with nature and live in complete soul-nourishing peace. The Cadzows, the owners of most of the island, are among the few locals to stay. During the lockdown, looking for new opportunities, the younger generation decided it was time to make a few changes.
This year, youngest son Jack Cadzow designed and built WildLuing, the first luxury accommodation on the island. Due to the attractive collection of rooms visitors can catch the five-car Harbor ferry from near Oban and find a Ship for themselves. Eight larch-clad suites offer stunning views over a range of hills and tidal bays. There is a kitchenette stocked with eggs, fruit, cereal and fresh bread, and you can watch the sun rise over the picturesque island of Torsa from your bed.
Guests can be collected from the ferry in a four-wheel drive, or you can bring a car. Don’t forget to fill up in Oban if you do, though, because of course, there’s no petrol station here. Around the headland from WildLuing, Cullipol is one of the island’s two villages. Next to the flooded quarries is a conservation area, where a few white cottages with slate roofs shelter under rocky cliffs. One current resident had left a simple sign in her window reading “coal please”. In the winter, you wouldn’t want to miss the coal man’s rounds.
As children, the Cadzows lived in a farmhouse near a small slate beach, at Blackmill Bay. “Mum used to ring a bell,” Jack told me, as his spaniel bounced through the bog and a labrador clawed a crab behind a jetty. The only other sound was the whirring of a small cottage wind turbine.
The silence here is powerful. Sitting in my suite, with no TV or radio, I opened the door to make sure Luing was still there. One morning, I decamped to a slate slab by the water’s edge and sat in the bright sunlight by splashes that could have been an otter, but were more likely a cormorant. Time ticked on, no hassle.
I finally saw a stuffed otter belly up in the Observatory before dinner. The open plan Observatory is the focal point of WildLuing. Step inside and the candles, laughter and lovely smells are a big sensory hug after the all-encompassing quiet of the island. Windows around the dining table look out over Torsa bay, with a high-spec kitchen extending to one side and a large, comfortable lounge on the other.
In the evenings, Jack brought around suppers of Lussa gin or Jura whiskey and the friendly staff of WildLuing cooked an incredible supper. First I tried slices of well-marbled Luing beef; the next night I feasted on fresh oysters from the bay, local langoustine and sweet squat lobster.
Jack Cadzow’s grandfather was the first to breed the fluffy and docile Luing cattle that roam the island, establishing the breed by crossing short beef cattle with Highland cattle. New projects on Luing include revitalization, and a new lake and wildlife trails are underway. Jack’s brother is involved in bringing shooting parties to stay at WildLuing in the season. Plans are also underway to bring back Luing’s heritage slate industry – albeit on a much smaller scale.
Sustainable activities include walking, cycling, guided kayaking and sea safaris. There are ruins on the island and there is plausible Norse graffiti. A covered Rib can take guests across to the Scarba, another enigmatic island also owned by the Cadzows, for a short walk and lunch in a hut.
On the way, I passed a sea eagle’s nest and came close to the choppy waters of the famous Corryvreckan whirlpool, which forms above a submerged rock pinnacle. On Scarba, I walked an easy track past lichen-covered trees. Heather covered slopes leading down to the sea, their ridges often crowned with oxen, their horns in silhouette.
Just as the rain set in, the valley opened up to reveal a ramshackle hut below. Inside, the plasterboard was crumbling from the walls but a fire was lit and WildLuing’s chef, Iain, whipped up a tablecloth and spread frittata, spicy red pepper soup and homemade venison rolls.
On the return trip, a playful gray seal kept popping its head out of the water. Further up, at a small rocky bay with steep hills behind it, I was struck by the solitary figure of an ox staring out to sea. “Stags come down to this beach when they realize they are no longer king of the hill”, Jack’s wife Emily told me. As sheets of rain rolled up the valley, the great animal stood contemplating the Atlantic, as others had done before him. There are some things on the Slate Islands that haven’t changed in a long time. On a Ship, some have – for the better.
Fundamentals
Natalie Paris traveled as a guest at WildLuing (07765 870111; wildluing.com), which offers rooms (sleeping two) from £200, with group bookings and exclusive use possible. British Airways (ba.com) flies to Glasgow from London for £76; the Harbor Ferry to Luing (argyll-bute.gov.uk) is a 2.5 hour drive further north
