“They’ll ask me how I got her, I’ll say, ‘I saved my money’, they’ll say, ‘Isn’t she pretty? That ship called Dignity…’”
Or Complacency. Or Incompetence.
CalMac’s ferries are meant to be a lifeline. Time and again, they’re a liability to the hardworking, and often left out, people of Scotland.
I’ve been lucky enough to have been brought up to appreciate everything our islands have to offer and every year my family and I make an Easter pilgrimage to Iona and head over to Islay in February and October. My grandfather is from Islay and before that, my family worked and lived on Jura for generations. Iona is equally of special importance to me as it’s where my other grandfather is buried.
Last week, my family and I set off for Iona the long way after one of CalMac’s larger ferries was out of service. Seven days later, when it was time to leave, we set off again the long way after CalMac texted the night before to let us know nothing had changed. So be it, we’ll leave earlier and get home around the same time anyway. Or so we thought.
We arrived at Fishnish on Mull at 10:30am but didn’t leave the terminal until 1:40pm. Getting home before dark was no longer achievable. An all-too-common story.
Figures obtained through FOI requests reveal that CalMac cancellations for technical reasons have risen more than tenfold in a decade – from 709 in 2015 (just 10.4% of call-offs) to 7,371 in 2025 (54%).
It’s not the politicians, most of whom live and work in the central belt, who must pay the price for this consistent failure. Their commute doesn’t hinge on a text message the night before.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for many others.
The tourists, who drive significant economic contributions into our islands, regularly have their plans disrupted. Some are then forced to cancel. The long-term impact is they are attracted elsewhere.
The CalMac employees are also among those who fall victim to Holyrood’s inadequacy. Anger pours through phone calls where they apologise for problems that aren’t their fault. Onboard, the staff work over breaks to ease backlogs they didn’t cause.
Ferguson Marine’s shipbuilders shouldn’t be left out of this conversation either. Unrealistic targets have hung over their heads for years at the cost of Scotland’s ruling party grabbing their desired headlines.
Most affected, however, are our islanders. Those already battling the realities of living and running businesses on small islands with visitors for only half the year.
Is that a legacy that politicians want to be remembered for? Leaving otherwise thriving communities disconnected and unable to run or grow. The blame seldom rests on their shoulders, and little suggests they understand how heavily it falls on everyone else’s.
When Australia suffered its own ferry fiasco and one boat had to be docked in Edinburgh for six months, its infrastructure minister, along with the chair and chief executive of the state-owned ferry company, resigned. In Scotland, not one minister or executive has lost their position as a result of CalMac’s incapability to serve Scotland’s islands effectively. Nor will they take any responsibility. The reluctance to apologise culture of previous governments is still very much visible in the Scottish Parliament today.
It can be easy to dismiss this issue if it doesn’t directly affect you; we are all suffering. Potholes, NHS waiting lists and a depleting education system might strike a lot closer to home.
But this is not just an islands problem, it’s a Scotland problem.
The money you pay to subsidise CalMac, disappears down a black hole. Exports of seafood and Scotch whisky are disrupted. The breathtaking views are no longer as accessible. When productivity plummets, so do your living standards.
And it’s not just the economy Scotland loses. It’s our values too.
There is an irony here, for at the heart of the parliament’s chamber lies the ceremonial mace. Inscribed upon it are the parliament’s values; wisdom, compassion, integrity and justice. Its presence, to mark the beginning of a new parliament whose purpose is to serve the land and the people of Scotland to a standard that both deserve, and be a constant reminder to MSPs of the principles they should aspire to uphold, day in, day out.
However, when a minority are losing out on lifeline services purely based on where they live, those four etched words become hollow. The message citizens instead receive, is that in Scotland, if you’re small enough, disparate enough, and your voice isn’t loud enough, you don’t matter enough. You will be ignored.
For our political parties on the campaign trail, this slow-moving disaster is an opportunity to highlight a national scandal that has been allowed to cripple communities over years. Islanders can’t take another political point-scoring match. They need change that reaches them.
Only then will our government be sailing in the right direction to serving our islands with ships, deservedly, called dignity.