Hansard

I feel greatly privileged—if a little hesitant—to participate in this debate, in which we are remembering a tragedy the cruelty and impact of which are almost beyond comprehension. I congratulate Alasdair Allan on his beautiful speech. Sadly, I cannot speak Gaelic, but it is the language of my soul and I love to hear it whenever I can. I thank all those who have spoken of their own direct relationship with the terrible tragedy.

I am the child of island parents who came from Tiree rather than Lewis. My father was at sea for his whole life, and, from an early age, my mother made us aware of the risks that his job brought and the joy and relief that everyone at sea experienced on reaching safe haven. Islanders understood then—as they understand now—the power of the elements to shape their lives, their opportunities and their futures.

The Isle of Lewis is an island of great warmth, generosity, humour and sense of community, even if it has—as other places do—a sad history. It was only when I began to visit Lewis as a young woman that I learned of the terrible tragedy of the Iolaire, despite its immensity and despite my great interest in the history of the Highlands and Islands. Those who suffered did so within their families and communities, and that part of our history has been left largely unreported. That is why this afternoon’s debate and the events surrounding the centenary are so important.

When we look at tragedy, we sometimes say that it is hard to imagine what it felt like or what its impact was, but, when we start to imagine, the horrors become overwhelming. It is not just that young men were lost at sea; they were returning safe at the end of a war during which they must have suffered terribly and seen the brutality of war at first hand. We are talking not only about the loss at sea of young men but about the loss of 201 souls who were returning to small communities, where their loss wiped out a whole generation from individual villages. They were not just coming home; they were coming home on 1 January to celebrate the new year, which, in those days, was the only day of celebration in the whole year on the island. That day—new year’s day—signified the importance of family and community and of mutual support. As well as being a time for reflection on the past, it was a time to look at prospects for the future.

The fact that those young men were lost not on a foreign field but within reach of safe haven and within sight of home as families gathered on Stornoway harbour to meet them makes the tragedy one that is almost beyond words. For many, its consequences and impact went unspoken for generations. It is important not just to remember the event but to understand the importance of renewal, to do what we can to support fragile remote rural communities and to maintain optimism for the future, remembering that migration from parts of Lewis reflected the pessimism that followed the tragedy. Events that might seem small on a national scale can have a catastrophic effect on small communities.

I congratulate all those people who have been involved in marking the centenary on the sensitive, creative, thought-provoking and challenging events that they have produced. A moving example of those events and a good symbol of the work that has been done is the shinty match that is to be held on Lewis on 1 January between the Lewis shinty team and a team from Kinlochshiel Shinty Club from Kyle of Lochalsh, from where the returning sailors departed for the last part of their journey. I have particular pride in that event because of a family connection to it, but it is a powerful symbol of what was lost. Young men—some of whom were shinty players—lost their potential and were denied their futures. Two young teams will play the game that the men who lost their lives were denied. Given the renaissance of shinty on the island in recent years, that act of remembrance should also be one of renewal whereby the new generation of young islanders will offer their respect for the past and their determination to play a part in securing the cultural, sporting and economic future of the island they love.

This is a time to remember a time of immense sadness, but it is also a time to recognise the strength of the human spirit in the darkest of times, which was evident in the communities affected. Given the strength of those communities in renewing themselves, it should be a time of hope for the future, too.