A new book gives a fascinating insight into the life of a ship captain on the Clyde.

“Hurricane Hutch’s Top Ten Ship of the Clyde” is an insider’s look at 35 years on the firth, and includes many references to Largs and Millport.

Captain Robin Hutchison, 80, who lives in Greenock, first “went to sea” when he was only nine, talking his way on to a fishing boat at Ayr for a week-long trip off the Isle of Man during the war. The book is full of quirky stories about how the Clyde services were run in an era before everything became dominated by ‘point-to-point’ car ferries and before “health and safety”.

It tells of how ships kept to timetable in ‘pea-soup’ fogs in the days before radar - basically going full-ahead, straight into the fog and making turns on various countdowns from someone with a stop-watch whilst listening out for the sound of a pier-hand blowing a whistle.

The book also tells what happened on charters moving cattle off the islands, taking workers to and from the rig-building yard at Ardyne and seeing first-hand the Waverley running aground on the Gantocks one summer.

A lot of the pictures have never been published before — including about a dozen from the Glasgow Museum collections. There’s one of the Jeannie Deans at war courtesy of the Imperial War Museum.

The book also features the Waverley, Queen Mary II, Glen Sannox and the Hebridean Princess amongst Captain Hutchison’s Top 10 and shows just how complex the CalMac operation was in the 50s and 60s.

Captain Hutchison retired in 1995 as relief master of the then privately owned cruise ship Hebridean Princess — a vessel he had captained in its previous existence as MV Columba under Cal Mac.

He has a daughter Kay, founder of London-based Belle Media, the book’s publisher, and a son Glenn who works for a call centre in Erskine. Captain Hutchison’s wife, Ann, passed away 11 years ago. The book contains many humorous anecdotes about life on the Clyde. One, titled “The Ashes”, is about one of the regular cruises they did through the Kyles of Bute throughout the 60s and early 70s. (See below) The book was launched on Thursday January 16 at The Riverside Museum, Glasgow. The decision to hold the launch at the Riverside was taken partly as they helped supply photographs, but also because it’s on the site of A&J Inglis’s Yard, where the Waverley, Maid of Argyll and the Talisman were all built.

There was a second book event at Greenock’s Maclean Museum and Art Gallery.

Hurricane Hutch’s Top Ten Ships of the Clyde, priced £20, is available at WH Smith in Largs or via Belle Media at enquiries@bellemedia.co.uk ..................................................

When cakes were ferry's precious cargo It seems that every morning (come hail or shine) one of the ‘Maids” transported hundreds of cakes and pastries from the Caledonian Steam Packet Company’s very own bakery at Gourock to the awaiting ‘steamers’ across at Craigendoran - ready for their 10am departures to all points West. The cakes were usually transported out on the open deck on standard open ‘baker’s trays’ with not even a loose covering and, therefore, many a seagull got away with a nice wee treat. It seems that in those days health inspectors didn’t carry much sway out on the open water. Typical of the West of Scotland’s sweet tooth that CalMac actually had a special sailing to bring over the cakes.

THE ASHES It was evidently quite common for people to come aboard to scatter ashes of their loved ones at some favourite spot.

The Kyles were particularly popular. These occasions were often relatively formal, with a minister there to say a few words and offer a prayer at the committal, and usually it was left to a sailor to actually scatter the ashes overboard.

The boats would slow down at the agreed point to give the mourning party an opportunity for a dignified short ceremony.

On one such occasion on the Maid of Argyll, Robin Hutchison slowed briefly, signalled to the minister to begin his prayer and he in turn signalled to the sailor who then cast the ashes seaward - right into the following wind! Much coughing, frantic brushing of clothes and the odd bit of laughter followed while the sailor made a hasty retreat - for some reason foregoing his customary ‘wee dram’ in the bar afterwards.