Argyll Coasts and Islands Hope Spot Blog 2025
Marine Science student with a strong interest in conservation and restoration
The residency was the creation of Argyll Coast and Islands Hope Spot ,the first designated Mission Blue Hope Spot in the UK; and itself part of a string of community-led coastal conservation initiatives that have grown up recently in this part of Scotland. It was very generously supported by The William Grant Foundation and Kilchoan Melfort Trust.
Artists are professionals with businesses to run, and so I also gratefully acknowledge the time given by each of the artists attending. This was networking. This was research. I’ve experienced similar gatherings whilst working in the heritage sector. It’s the kind of experience which stays with you; the impact trickling quietly into your work as the years progress..
Our group was hosted on the Kilchoan Melfort Trust estate itself, at the Degnish peninsula on the shores of Loch Melfort, south of Oban. This is a fantastically beautiful spot, even from a terrestrial point of view. The groomed grounds and natural inlets in which it sits provide a welcome sense of shelter in an environment which it was easy to see could also feel wild and exposed in less friendly weather. The Kilchoan Melfort Trust approach to conservation combines practical work in the land and seascape with a holistic approach to creativity and the role the spirit plays in driving this forward. It was refreshing and comforting to see this combo sitting side by side in its mission statements. The trust provided our comfortable accommodation into which we could retreat and dry off after a day’s snorkelling in the cold waters; day one of which was off the pier on the estate itself. The weather was so generous, fine and clear. It made everything under the water seem even more vivid. The cityscape of life clinging to the pier, swimming and floating around it was spectacular. It was a gentle introduction to those who had not snorkeled before, in safe near waters; but just as good to those of us who had.
Our group was hosted on the Kilchoan Melfort Trust estate itself, at the Degnish peninsula on the shores of Loch Melfort, south of Oban. This is a fantastically beautiful spot, even from a terrestrial point of view. The groomed grounds and natural inlets in which it sits provide a welcome sense of shelter in an environment which it was easy to see could also feel wild and exposed in less friendly weather. The Kilchoan Melfort Trust approach to conservation combines practical work in the land and seascape with a holistic approach to creativity and the role the spirit plays in driving this forward. It was refreshing and comforting to see this combo sitting side by side in its mission statements. The trust provided our comfortable accommodation into which we could retreat and dry off after a day’s snorkelling in the cold waters; day one of which was off the pier on the estate itself. The weather was so generous, fine and clear. It made everything under the water seem even more vivid. The cityscape of life clinging to the pier, swimming and floating around it was spectacular. It was a gentle introduction to those who had not snorkeled before, in safe near waters; but just as good to those of us who had.
Our cohort was selected to cover a range of creative disciples. A writer, an illustrator, film maker, sculptor, printmaker, curator, animator, theater professional. So many creative stops covered! Like the spiders web, a small shake on any of those creative strings could impact the Argyll Hope Spot conservation cause a good distance away. The immediate challenge for all of us, of course, will be how to consciously incorporate our experience into our work moving forward. How do you write about your first snorkelling experience? How do you recreate that sense of being underwater on stage? How do you absorb not only yourself, but everyone else in a film or animation exploring something, like the sea, which cannot otherwise be seen at all!?.
We talked, absorbed, made notes, drawings. How do you visualise what it’s like to feel, sense, and be part of everything that is the sea? Well, we begin by looking, feeling, listening each time we step in and out of the water. Each time we pull on the wet suit, dodge stepping on the sea squirts underfoot; each time we marvel at the barely visible pipefish in the seagrass or the black tribes of brittle stars pushing through the detritus on the seabed like a wave of locusts.
The residential days were carefully curated to acknowledge the land, seascape; human and non humanscape as a whole. Inevitably, in Argyll this must also explore how Gaelic culture has impacted and shaped the environment and what role this plays in the future of Argyll going forward. Turns out our safe swimming support professional was also our Gaelic language professional.. a memorable combo! ‘Dan the Merman’ gently infused the whole experience with the language. He reminded us all that viewing the environment through the lens of a native language can change everything. Since Gaelic is born of a culture that was itself created by the environment in which each person was more directly connected to their landscape. It is a language which can more readily and lyrically reflect what can be seen and felt there. It also turns out there were a couple of our artists amongst our cohort who had some Gaelic to chat in too. So few speakers now. Its hard to find them unless your put your snorkel on. Seems to me Gaelic and the underwater realm have a lot in common just now. We need to shout about them both.
So many thanks go to all the organisers and supportive local artists whose ‘neck of the loch’ we were guided carefully through. For me, so many thanks also go to anyone who was able to help me identify species. I always say ‘ just because you dont know what its called doesnt mean you dont know it’; but it does help you know it more. Thanks to the different approaches to latin/english/gaelic in this case, I can find out so much more about the ecology of life under the waves at the Argyll Hope Spot. I can research it, write about it, visualise it; be poetic or scientific about it. Most of all I can swim amongst it, be part of it and celebrate it. I can even celebrate what I can’t see. On our last swimming day, we visited a site at Tayviallich. The wind was blowing, the rain was lashing and the water was murky. As I swam, all I could see was a mist of green, yellow and grey. Within that mist were particles of everything that lives and moves within the water, animal, vegetable and mineral. I love the really tiny things, the stuff you cant see; the microscopic life and everything at the very bottom of the food chain. It has sustained life in what is now the Hope Spot for millions of years. As I swam I could just about make out an enormous snakelocks clinging to the reef and marvelled at the veil of life it was feeding on and swishing around us both in that moment.