The boat with magic at its core

Two days after Andrew Hook's article appeared in Scottish Review about the Hebridean TV series my wife and I left Oban on the Glen Massan, a North Atlantic fishing trawler that has been beautifully converted into a small cruise vessel.

Nothing like any cruise ship I have encountered before, this one has six guest cabins and carries an absolute maximum of a dozen passengers.
But what it has, that the big cruise ships rarely have, is magic at its very core.

Andy Thoms, a semi-retired architect and engineer who with his partner Ken Grant, dreamed and then devised, designed and built this two-boat operation, named it after a fictitious cruise line from the Para Handy stories. The Majestic Line is a rare thing in Scotland's tourism industry; it operates with efficiency and precision in uncertain waters that are subject to fast-changing weathers.

Its secret lies in its ability to adapt in other words, and it does this brilliantly because its crews are competent, resourceful, well-trained and knowledgeable.

The magic and the mystery comes from the places the Majestic Line takes you to – to the islands of the inner Hebrides, to places with puffins, to the inspiration for the music of Mendelssohn, to a little pub at Salen, to a series of sheltered anchorages, to the Well of the North Wind, to a tiny ruined village on the Treshnish Islands. It will give you the raw view that Robert Louis Stevenson had of the treacherous Torran Rocks, which featured so prominently in 'Kidnapped' – and then take you ashore at the sandy beach on Erraid where David Balfour washed up after the shipwreck. But every cruise is different; these are just a few of the places we were taken.

There is much more though – and I know that this is starting to read like a travelogue – but what Scotland has with this operation is a gem. I work in the tourism industry around the world. It's not very often that I encounter a tourism operation that instils so much enthusiasm in its clients. Almost never do I come across one that reintroduces me to life's essentials, that wakes me up and brings me alive like this one has just done.

There is enlightenment and education in all this. It comes from the discoveries; from the intimate knowledge that the crew has of the flora and fauna, of the mythology, the legend and the history of these western islands. None of it is rammed down your throat. It is simply there for the asking if you're interested to find out about it.

I will mention the food because it is outstanding. Michael Grahl, the chef on our boat, has been in the business of providing fine cuisine for nearly 40 years. There can be few who are better at it. The selection of mostly Scottish cheeses, presented each evening by Alastair, the boat's engineer, was a short one-act play; superb, and sometimes hilarious. The house wines are the same as those of the Dorchester Hotel in London, yet without the big mark-up you'll pay down there. The bar bill – paid at the end of the six-day cruise – was pleasantly light. And if you're lucky enough to have the skipper we had, you might even be treated to the pipes played in a way, and in places, that may be beyond your imagination.

Michael Elcock was born in Forres and grew up in Edinburgh and West Africa. He emigrated to Canada when he was 21. He was athletic director at the University of Victoria for 10 years, and then CEO of Tourism Victoria for five