Field Notes #0017 | Tarbert in the Rain
Arriving by ferry to one of Scotland’s oldest working harbours.
“Some places make themselves known long before you arrive. Tarbert wasn’t one of them. It stayed hidden behind the rain.”
Location: Tarbert, Argyll
Date: July 2026
Purpose: Hydrographic survey (bathymetric survey of the marina)
Weather: Dreich, persistent drizzle, westerly wind with occasional sunshine
Camera: iPhone
Time on location: 10:00–late afternoon
Arrival
The first ferry of the morning slipped quietly away from Portavadie at 09:30, crossing Loch Fyne towards Tarbert. Twenty minutes later, at around 10:00, we eased into the harbour.
The journey itself had already been memorable. I’d spent the previous night at Portavadie Marina after driving four and a half hours through some of Scotland’s most spectacular scenery. It had been one of those Highland drives where every bend reveals another loch, another mountain or another glen.
Tarbert, however, had other ideas.
The harbour was almost invisible behind the rain and low cloud. The hills disappeared into the mist and the weather wrapped itself around the village, hiding much of its character until you were standing amongst it.
As soon as I stepped ashore the familiar smell of the sea mixed with fresh rain filled the air. A cool westerly wind pushed steadily through the harbour while somewhere in the distance a steam horn echoed across the water. Around me, yacht masts gently clinked together while fishing boats quietly unloaded their catch.
It felt unmistakably like a working Scottish harbour.
A Day’s Work
The reason for visiting Tarbert wasn’t photography.
I was there carrying out hydrographic survey work within the marina, mapping the seabed ahead of proposed improvements to the harbour, including additional boat set-down facilities and a new slipway.
I spent the entire day working around the waterfront, but one of the unexpected pleasures of this sort of work is that you’re rarely confined to one place. You become part of the harbour for a few hours, watching it quietly go about its business.
That also gives you time to notice things.
A Harbour Built on History
Tarbert isn’t simply another pretty west coast village.
Its history stretches back through Viking times, medieval Scotland, clan history and the industrial age.
Its very name tells the story.
The Gaelic Tairbeart refers to the narrow strip of land separating East Loch Tarbert from West Loch Tarbert — literally a place where boats were dragged across land rather than risk the long and often dangerous voyage around the Mull of Kintyre.
Legend tells of King Magnus Barelegs using this very route during the 11th century to claim Kintyre as an island.
Walking around the harbour today, reminders of those centuries remain everywhere.
Old stone buildings.
Harbour walls.
Fishing gear stacked against weathered walls.
Thomas Telford’s harbour improvements.
Tarbert feels like somewhere that has simply evolved rather than been redesigned.
When the Sun Tried
The weather never really improved.
It remained thoroughly dreich.
Not heavy rain.
Just persistent drizzle.
The sort of rain that somehow manages to soak everything without ever becoming dramatic.
Every so often the sun tried to break through.
Those few rays completely transformed the harbour.
Moments earlier it had felt heavy and subdued.
Then suddenly the stone buildings warmed, the boats reflected a little brighter and the whole village seemed to wake up before the cloud quietly reclaimed it again.
The Photographs Found Me
I rarely go looking for photographs.
They usually find me.
Something simply catches my eye and I stop.
That happened all day.
An old wooden skiff sitting quietly at low tide.
A forgotten industrial building.
Rain droplets collecting on wildflowers growing beside the harbour.
The Scottish flag pulling hard in the westerly breeze.
Each photograph became another small piece of Tarbert’s story.
The One That Stayed With Me
If I had to choose a favourite image from the day, it would probably be the old Sailmakers building.
The castle is older.
The harbour is grander.
But buildings like this quietly disappear.
They’re part of Scotland’s more recent working history and often vanish without much thought.
Photographing them feels important.
Not because they’re beautiful in the traditional sense.
Because once they’re gone, they’re gone.
Hidden Beneath the Water
One discovery never made it into a photograph.
While surveying the marina we located the remains of a small wooden boat lying beneath the seabed.
Around sixteen feet long, only the hull remained.
It had clearly rested there for many years.
Perhaps another old skiff.
Perhaps simply someone’s forgotten working boat.
Either way, another quiet reminder that Tarbert’s history isn’t only found above the water.
Sometimes it’s buried beneath it.
The People
Harbours are never just about boats.
They’re about people.
Several locals stopped to chat while walking their dogs, curious about the survey work and the proposed improvements to the harbour.
There were smiles.
Friendly hellos.
Conversations about the new slipway.
The dogs somehow added character to the whole place.
It’s funny how often they do.
Looking Forward
If I return — and I hope I do — I’d like to experience Tarbert under completely different conditions.
A calm sunrise.
Red sky reflected around the fishing boats.
The harbour walls glowing in early light.
More time exploring around the castle.
Walking the Viking portage itself.
Flying the drone along the coastline.
There’s still plenty left to discover.
One Thing I Learned Today
The obvious photograph isn’t always the most interesting one.
It’s easy to point a camera towards the castle or the harbour.
Harder—and often more rewarding—to notice the weathered sign, the abandoned skiff, or the rain-soaked flowers beside the wall.
The small details often tell the bigger story.
Tarbert reminded me to keep looking for them.
Equipment
Camera: Apple iPhone
Editing: Apple Photos (iPhone)
Closing Notes
Sometimes the best photographic days aren’t the ones with dramatic sunsets or perfect conditions.
Sometimes they’re simply honest.
A wet ferry crossing.
A day’s work.
A harbour carrying a thousand years of history.
A handful of photographs that quietly tell its story.
And the thought, as I drove away, that if I were ever to call Argyll home, Tarbert would be very near the top of the list.
📓 Marcus’s Notebook
Favourite Photograph: The Sailmakers building.
Favourite Moment: Watching the harbour brighten as the sun briefly broke through the cloud.
Next Time: Sunrise, the Viking portage, more of the harbour walls and fishing boats, and a drone view of the coastline.
One Thing I Learned: Keep looking for the small details—they often tell the biggest story.
Every trip is different, and so is the equipment I carry. The cameras, drones and accessories used on this outing are all part of the kit I rely on in the field. If you’re interested in the equipment behind the photographs and videos, along with my thoughts and recommendations from real-world use, you’ll find everything on my Equipment page.