Black Sabboth: The demarcation lines in the battle to preserve Sunday observance in the Hebrides do not act as boundaries between comfortably perceived stereotypes

THE omens have not been good. First, last Thursday, the heavens opened. This was not the usual permadrizzle of the Western Isles. It was a torrential downpour, a deluge, locals joked, of Biblical proportions.

For hours Stornoway, the capital of Lewis and the Outer Hebrides, was inundated. The rain soaked everything, not even sparing a 6,000-capacity "super marquee" pitched in the grounds of postcard-perfect Lews Castle as the venue of the Hebridean Celtic Festival, the cultural highlight of the summer.

Then, island wits added, there came more evidence that God was none to pleased with plans by ferry operator Caledonian MacBrayne to begin Sunday sailings to the strictly Sabbatarian island today.

The "boat" that was to make the Sabbath-busting journey, the MV Isle of Lewis, developed major engine trouble. Sailings were cancelled; would-be festival-goers stranded.

"What's next?" asked one Lewisman, dashing the dour stereotype of islanders with a single quip. "Plagues of locusts? Showers of Frogs? Thunderbolts?"

A ferry, nonetheless, is due to set sail today, stressed chiefs at the government-owned operating company, which is usually known, lovingly, simply as CalMac. As engineers worked frantically to diagnose and repair the MV Isle of Lewis, other – smaller - vessels were redeployed from Arran and the Uists. One way or another, passengers will today be able to make the five-hour crossing from Stornoway to Ullapool in Wester Ross, in the Scottish mainland of seven-days-a-week superstores and working Sundays.

They will do so, people outside the islands imagine, amid a bitter dispute, a fundamentalist quarrel, a battle of black and white. But nothing could be further than the truth. Because Lewis and Harris, the two communities styled as "isles" that make up the biggest land mass in the Outer Hebrides, have long been teaching the rest of Scotland how to disagree on huge matters of principle without falling out.

Phil Preston, chief executive of CalMac, yesterday took time out to praise his opponents, most represented by a body called the Lord's Day Observance Society. "The discussions we've had with the society have been extremely dignified and courteous," he said. "Naturally they were difficult meetings for both sides, but they were handled in a very measured and gentlemanly way."

Those against Sunday sailings are eager to avoid their image, in mainland media at least, as grey killjoy or humourless fundamentalists.

Father and son Donald and Gordon Macleod own Stornoway's main campsite and caravan park - and depend on CalMac for much of their business. They even hire an extra field each year to cater for festival visitors. But they are firmly opposed to the new sailings, fearing that they will lead to the loss of what Gordon last night called "that special time out of the busyness of everyday life. Sunday was given to us as a day of rest – and people need to rest. Six days of work is plenty."

Gordon, however, admits that his views are tricky to reconcile with his qualms about people being "almost held captive" on the island, and that the Sunday sailings business case for the tourist industry is hard to dispute. "But it's always portrayed as an oppressive thing," he complained. "Whereas a lot of people here actually see it as a precious freedom."

Yet the principles on either side of the debate are pretty resolute. This is not an argument about public opinion, about how many people want the Western Isles to stick to its almost unique Sabbatarian traditions and how many simply fancy being able to come and go when they please. This is an argument about fundamental rights and wrongs, as seen by the two sides. In one corner the Sabbatarians don't care if they are in the majority or not. They draw their authority from the Bible. In the other CalMac don't have to worry about the views of Western Isles Council or the local population. They draw their authority not from the Bible, but from legally more binding human rights legislation.

Donald Martin of the Lord's Day Observance Society and Stornoway's Free Church (Continuing) is impressively adamant. Martin yesterday disregarded a question as to the basis on which he claims to speak for the majority on Lewis. "I'm speaking from the Bible," he replied instead. "In the Commandments, God gave man ten laws, and if we agree that we shouldn't be killing or stealing, then we should also be keeping the Sabbath: it's not for us to pick and choose. I would challenge anybody to find a place elsewhere in the UK, where God's law has been jettisoned, which has changed for the better. And I think more and more people on the mainland are looking at Lewis and thinking, 'you guys have a point': people are tired of 24/7, of constantly being ruled by emails and Blackberries - they want a day off."

As for the notion that this should be a matter of individual choice, belief and practice, however, Martin sees no room for compromise. "CalMac may talk about equality and human rights, but the Fourth Commandment exists for the good of man, and according to God's word, Jesus Christ is the Lord of us all, whether we like it or not. However, concerning the ferry, it appears that people have decided by one means or another; they've done what's right in their own eyes - but it will bring more anarchy, more societal break-up and putrefaction, if we lose that foundation of God's word."

Martin speaks for many. Lewis remains strong in its determination to follow Sunday observance. More than two out of five of the Western Isles' 26,000-strong population go to church, compared with a national average of just 8%. There are no buses on Sundays and leisure facilities are shut. .

True, most hotels and bars routinely open on Sundays. But the only shop that ignores the Sabbath is a petrol station mini-mart on the outskirts of Stornoway, and many guest-houses or B&Bs also avoid guests arriving or checking out on a Sunday, even though private businesses, subject to routine licensing, are free to trade as they wish.

Yet there are those who wish to move around on a Sunday. Lewis isn't the religiously constrained backwater it is sometimes made out to be. And it hasn't been for years. Visiting the Hebrides as long ago as the 1930s, the poet Louis MacNeice described his "shock" at encountering "the vices of the mainland", as opposed to the "insular vices" he expected.

"For a lot of outsiders – and certainly most of the media – it's like we're some kind of Brigadoon," commented one local, echoing sentiments widely expressed. Instead, in many ways, Stornoway is just like any other town, from the new Tesco superstore opened just last year, to the up-to-the minute fashions and music tastes of its young crowd, with late-license extensions operating until 4am for the Thursday and Friday nights of the festival, and a full bill of local pop bands on at Era nightclub for those less fond of Celtic sounds.

CalMac has form on breaking the Sabbath. Three summers ago it began its first regular Sunday sailings between Lewis/Harris and the rest of the Western Isles. It has been lobbied for years to put in place seven-days-a-week services between the islands and the rest of Scotland. After all, its archrivals, airline LoganAir, takes off on the Sabbath. CalMac won't now be put off by boat breakdowns, which its spokesman admitted "aren't that unusual".

Western Isles Council, which wants to keep boats in harbour on the Sabbath, was earlier this month presented with Sunday sailings as a fait accompli. CalMac said it had received legal advice that observing the day of rest put them in breach of human rights legislation, specifically the 2006 Equality Act.

The company however, stressed that it only consulted the lawyers after a pro-ferry delegation from Lewis itself threatened to pursue this route. "There have been all sorts of stories about dirty tricks, and how we've been plotting this for years – but actually if that was the case, why haven't we done it sooner? We don't actually require permission from the council. The impetus here came from the islanders, as a result of which we found we were in fact acting unlawfully."

There will be many on the islands who mourn the passing of the strict Sabbath as the CalMac ferry takes off for Ullapool today. But not always because they believe a sin is being committed. "Our Sunday is almost always portrayed in negative terms, but I know a lot of people who've been attracted to move here, or chosen to stay here, because the way of life that involves a different kind of Sunday is what appeals to them," said one born-and-bred local resident who – like many of those canvassed for this article – preferred not to be quoted by name.

"I was brought up in a very religious household, though I wouldn't really call myself a believer, and I'm all for the Sunday ferries, as I was for the Sunday flights when they came in seven years ago. It will help us in all sorts of ways, there's no doubt about it: my concern is just that Stornoway turns into any other town, and we actually lose our unique selling point.

"The only people quoted as supporting the Lewis Sunday are always from the Kirk or the Lord's Day Observance Society, as though it's exclusively a religious issue, and it's actually much bigger than that: it's to do with the quality of people's lives. I'm a parent, and like a lot of people here I spend time with my family on a Sunday – and I don't do it by going shopping."

There will be no unseemly protests when the first ferry sails, islanders predicted yesterday. The debate, they said, is too civilised for such public acts. Moreover, Sabbatarians would have to decide whether they could actively object. Would a protest be classed as a work of necessity, charity or worship - these being the three exceptions to the Sunday rule.

Many supporters of the change, however, have reportedly booked for the round trip to Ullapool, returning tonight, simply because at last they can.

However, it was still not clear, because of the engine trouble, when the boat will leave. Last night, however, there were whispers of a "festive" reception for the repaired MV Isle of Lewis, if, as was expected, it crept into Stornoway harbour in the wee small hours of this morning. The Hebridean Celtic Festival, in its 14th year, was scheduled to end at 2am on the Sabbath no less. Revellers, would-be Sabbath-busters hinted, may well greet what would be the first official Sunday sailing.