When we think of piracy, images of open oceans and exotic ships might fill our minds. Yet in the early 18th century, piracy took on a very different face in the Scottish Highlands — right in the heart of Loch Lomond. This large, stunning freshwater loch was not only a scenic beauty but a bustling artery of trade and communication. And where there was traffic, there was opportunity for piracy.
In the years around 1715, as the Jacobite Rebellion shook Britain, the waters of Loch Lomond became a battleground — not for fleets of mighty navies, but for control of modest boats, local commerce, and strategic movement.
The Busy Arteries of Loch Lomond: Trade and Traffic in the 1700s
Far from being a sleepy backwater, Loch Lomond in the early 18th century was alive with activity. The loch stretched for 24 miles and connected many small but vital communities: Luss, Balmaha, Inversnaid, Rowardennan, and Balloch among them. Its shores were dotted with farms, hamlets, and estates belonging to clans and Lowland landlords.
The types of traffic you would see on the loch included:
Cattle boats: Moving livestock between the Highland pastures and the Lowland markets.
Fishing skiffs: Small vessels providing the vital supply of fish to local communities.
Passenger boats: Ferries and private boats carrying tenants, merchants, and messages.
Merchant boats: Laden with wool, hides, timber, peat, and sometimes luxury goods like imported wine and fine cloth.
Military supply boats: Occasionally moving arms, gunpowder, and soldiers between key locations, especially during times of tension like the Jacobite uprisings.
With poor roads in the region, the loch was often faster and safer than overland routes, making it the economic lifeblood for many of the surrounding settlements.
But where trade thrived, so did threats.
How Piracy Operated on Loch Lomond
In the 18th century, piracy on Loch Lomond was highly localized, brutal, and personal. It wasn’t anonymous raids from faceless brigands — it was clan-based and deeply entangled in politics, feuds, and survival strategies.
Here's how the piracy worked:
Control of Boats: Outlaw leaders like Rob Roy MacGregor understood that whoever controlled the boats controlled the loch. Without boats, farms and villages could be isolated, unable to trade or summon help. Rob Roy and his followers would seize, hide, or destroy boats belonging to rival clans, merchants, or townsfolk sympathetic to the Hanoverian government.
Ambush and Seizure: Piratical raids were often launched from wooded inlets and craggy coves. A merchant boat gliding peacefully across the loch could suddenly find itself intercepted by armed Highlanders emerging from hidden bays. Goods would be confiscated — sometimes with a rough "toll" demanded, sometimes simply looted.
Economic Extortion: In true pirate fashion, some communities were forced to pay “protection money” to ensure safe passage or retain possession of their boats. Those who paid allegiance to Rob Roy could often move freely; those who didn’t risked losing everything.
Use of Natural Geography: The loch’s many small islands and its mountainous surroundings made it ideal terrain for quick raids and fast retreats. Pirates could vanish into the glens and forests within minutes, making pursuit nearly impossible without boats of their own.
Symbolic Terror: Beyond material theft, boat seizures were acts of symbolic defiance against Lowland authorities and rival Highland clans. Controlling the loch meant asserting dominance in a fractious, unstable political environment.
Dumbarton's Response: The 1715 Loch Lomond Expedition
Faced with this crippling piracy, the town of Dumbarton organized a remarkable counter-operation during the 1715 Jacobite Rebellion. Local magistrates, Lowland volunteers, and professional soldiers orchestrated an ambitious military expedition to wrest back control of Loch Lomond.
Boats were dragged by horses five miles up the fierce currents of the River Leven — an incredible logistical feat.
A combined force of foot soldiers and sailors moved up the loch, using pinnaces armed with small cannon.
Upon reaching Inversnaid and other strongholds, they recovered stolen boats, destroyed pirate hideouts, and established a brief period of law and order on the water.
In this way, the piracy that had choked Loch Lomond’s arteries was, at least temporarily, broken. But the memory of those wild years of economic warfare lived on, feeding into the legends of Rob Roy and the proud, lawless spirit of the Highlands.
A Hidden Chapter of Scottish History
The story of 18th-century piracy on Loch Lomond is a vivid reminder that piracy i
s not solely a maritime phenomenon confined to the oceans. It flourishes wherever trade moves faster than the rule of law — whether it’s a tiny ferry across a Scottish loch or a container ship off the coast of Africa.
For the people of Dumbarton, Luss, and Balmaha, piracy was not a distant legend — it was a real threat to their farms, their livelihoods, and their futures. In the wild beauty of Loch Lomond’s waters, the line between commerce and chaos was often only as wide as a single stolen boat.