When guests contact me in astonishment that their ferry has been cancelled, I am always helpful, but sometimes I can’t resist a wry smile. Actually, at the moment it happens a lot.

As an incomer, I accept the absence of fresh vegetables in the Co-op and the uncertainty of getting on and off the island are part of the bargain. We get to live somewhere stunning (sometimes) and wild (mostly). There are, inevitably, a few extra complications to the remoteness.

It was pointed out to me recently that when I moved here almost two decades ago, the ferry service was actually much more reliable. I think that’s true. I miss the Heb Isles, which, along with the Arran, doggedly sailed to and fro through most weathers.

The Finlaggan is now my favourite. I sit in the same seat every time, much as I used to on my London commuter train years ago.  

My youngest daughter actually took some of her first steps on the Finlaggan. 

We were on the 7am boat off the island, usually occupied largely by Mundell’s lorry drivers. She was wide awake and wanted to walk, holding both my fingers while I bent double to support her. We spent almost two hours like that because every time I picked her up, she cried, and I didn’t want to wake the other passengers!

And the current bow-door issues on both vessels have provided me with another small source of amusement. I seem to be the only car capable of executing a perfect U-turn on the car deck in one smooth manoeuvre. I put this down entirely to my superior driving skills, obviously. Nothing whatsoever to do with driving a small car.

I also love the status as a ‘local’ the ferry journey gives me, I recently took the cups for the Agricultural Show across to be picked up from the ferry office by the person who left without them. I have also delivered the newspapers to Jura shop saving someone else a trip.

But behind the memories there is a serious point. I arrived home today 12 hours later than planned. That meant late-night emails and rescheduling sauna sessions, with all the knock-on effects that brings. And I’m not the only one. Island residents miss bookings, lose business, rearrange work and miss events too. Ferry disruption isn’t just an inconvenience for visitors; it’s part of the everyday uncertainty of living and working here.

So, if you’re visiting Islay, please be prepared for the possibility that your plans might change. If your ferry is cancelled, book the next available sailing as soon as you can.

And please be kind to the CalMac staff. They didn’t build the boats, they don’t control the weather, and they have to deal with the frustration of disappointed passengers all day long.