5.

It had been many years since we walked the beach together so the letter came as a complete surprise. But the real shock was this letter was from Hamish, the cabbie. I feared it contained bad news, but I wasn't ready for the tale it told. In it he told a story of unimaginable terror on the high seas that I will relate to you here and call "The Saga of Donald McNish"

Young Donald was a seaman. He had signed on as crew and was standing second watch in the starboard bilge aboard a pseudo-research vessel out of Oban. The mission of the ship was to find evidence to support the theory that the Loch Ness Monster, "Nessie", did not in fact live in Loch Ness but spent most of her time feeding and nurturing her young and living the good life in the open seas away from the prying eyes of the world by shadowing colliers and tourist ferries as they passed through the locks at Fort Augustus, traveling down the Caledonian Canal to Loch Linnhe and into the Firth of Lornh around Mull. She would then repeat this trip when the time was right and return to Loch Ness for a "wee roll in the heather", so to speak , tease the tourists with a flash of skin then back out to the rich fisheries in the sea.

So far the evidence had been thin to back this notion which would, in fact, account for the lack of proof being found for Nessie's existance. None the less, the ship sailed on knowing that scientific investigation was mostly years of drudgery.

A good sailor always has his eyes on the horizon for signs of trouble and trouble found young McNish and his shipmates in the form of Fiona and her all girl crew sailing on an unflagged ship registered to a militant wing of the Royal Society for the Preservation of Scottish Folklore. Fiona and her companions had been taught since young school girls that Nessie lived happily in the Loch being a proud part of the majesty of the Highlands and it was Loch Ness' mysterious deep, dark waters that kept her hidden from the naysayers and cruel scientific "experimentation" and any notions to the contrary were akin to heresy. So it was with great excitement when they caught sight of NcNish's ship as this was their chance to make their voices heard and be fair warning to all that would follow.

Fiona ordered her crew to come about and make course along side the scurvy dogs vessel. Unfurling the flag of St. Andrews Cross, they bared their proud, and ample, Scottish bosoms to honor Wallace and the ghosts of Stirling Bridge and boarded and scuttled the research ship and sent her to the bottom to "fatten the eels on the blasphemers bones".

As scuttlings go, it was a rather crude attempt. The crew had adequate time to abandon ship and man their life boats. Arriving back in port, the ragged and somewhat shocked crew was all accounted for, except one: Donald McNish could not be found.

Seen sailing off, bound to Fiona's fantail, wee Donald McNish was last reported cleaning the pigeon foulings off the decks at Fiona's Paddleboat Rental in the moat at Urquhart Castle.

The letter concluded: "she needs you"........Hamish.