If you thought that old ship's captains were all rough, tough, grizzly bearded men who ruled by fear, then you need to hear the story of Betsy Miller - The Queen of Saltcoats.
Betsy was the eldest of 10 children, born and bred in Saltcoats on the Ayrshire coast at the end of the 18th century.
Her father was a successful merchant and captain, but while seafaring was in her blood, it was her brother who was destined to take over the family business.
Betsy had a quiet job in the office, getting out on the waves whenever she had the chance.
In 1833, tragedy struck when her brother passed away, leaving the family and crew leaderless and with debts to pay.
Fortunately Betsy stepped up to the mark and took the helm.
Captain Betsy was in her 40s when she took command of the ship Clytus and the crew of 14 seasoned sailors.
None of those men questioned her ability to lead just because she was a woman, instead she inspired devotion amongst her crew, known locally as the Queen of Saltcoats.
Betsy sailed back and forward between Ayrshire and Ireland trading timber and coal.
While most ships looked for a favourable wind, Betsy had a point to prove and money to make.
Her catchphrase was "I don't wait for the carry", navigating the Clytus across the water regardless.
This incredible Queen was the first officially recognised female ship's captain, but she wasn't the only lady on board.
Her first mate just happened to be her younger sister Hannah and between the two of them, the Miller family improved their business dramatically.
Betsy had humour and grace but no fear of the waves.
Her crew loved her for it and asked no questions when their captain ordered them out into a storm.
She did all of it while still looking impeccable in a pristine dress.
She carried on sailing as captain until her retirement at the grand age of 70.
By then, she was a local celebrity and had a reputation amongst sailors as one of the best captains to cross the Irish Sea!
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At 104 metres across, once with 60 stones but now just 27, the Ring of Brodgar in Orkney is the largest stone circle in Scotland!
Archaeologists will tell you these were erected around 4500 years ago, but we know the truth. These stones were once alive as the Giants of Orkney!
During the day, they were forced to hide from the light of the sun, which would turn them to stone, but when night fell, the islands shook with the sound of their thumping footsteps.
While they might have been clumsy, aggressive beasts, they loved to dance at any opportunity.
Late one evening, as they clambered into the bright moonlight, a giant fiddler pulled out his instrument and began to play.
The tune caught the ear of his companions and the party was soon in full flow.
The giants joined hands and they began to dance in a ring.
Today marks the start of #WomensHistoryMonth so I'm going to tell you a story about a very remarkable lady.
This chunk of rubble is all that remains of Malcolm Canmore's Tower in Pittencrieff Park - Dunfermline and that's Dunfermline Abbey behind, founded by Queen Margaret.
Margaret was an English Princess and around 1069, she was forced to flee into exile with her brother.
Legend says her ship was blown off course and landed in Fife where she was met by King Malcom Canmore. The royal couple were soon married.
The pair seem to have truly been in love even if they were an unlikely match: the warrior King and the pious princess.
It's said that Margaret had a calming effect on her husband, reigning him in a bit.
They lived here in their capital Dunfermline and the city flourished.
The exploits of Rob Roy MacGregor - "The Highland Rogue" make him sound like a fictional character, but he was a living, breathing man with a story that's almost impossible to untangle from legend.
Born in 1671 near Loch Katrine, he was known as Red Rob for his fiery hair.
Officially an excellent cattle drover. Unofficially an even better blackmailer as he ran a protection racket across a wide area.
For a fee, Rob made sure that none of the rich landowner's cows would go missing. If somebody didn't want to pay up, the rogue made sure they did.
The arrangement did ensure safety from genuine danger though.
Rob had a reputation as a fierce fighter and expert swordsman, partly due to his very long arms.
Anybody foolish enough to steal from those under his protection was quickly hunted down and dealt with.
You might think that Orkney has only ancient history to share from the amount of coverage of Skara Brae or the standing stones.
Clearly, the Italian Chapel is a bit more modern, but why is it here in Scotland's northern isles and why does it look so odd?
Read on to find out...
The story goes back to WWII, when Orkney was the main Royal Navy base.
Long causeways needed built between the smaller islands to protect the harbour at Scapa Flow from U-Boat attacks and as luck would have it, thousands of Italian soldiers had just been captured in North Africa
A number of the Italian Prisoners of War were sent to Orkney, no doubt a shock to the system after Africa, with hundreds placed on the tiny island of Lamb Holm.
Living in a very basic camp was nothing new for the soldiers, but for these Italians, one important thing was missing.
Since we're in that indulgent, happy time between Christmas and New Year, I couldn't share a story of tragedy or woe.
Instead, I've dug through the archives for a tale of inspiration from Cramond Brig, found just outside Edinburgh.
James V had been crowned King of Scots at the age of 2, but he hated his sheltered life. Legend says he liked to sneak out of his palaces and travel the local area in disguise.
As he mingled with his subjects, he called himself The Guidman of Ballengeich.
One day, while walking at Cramond, he was set upon by robbers.
He managed to back himself onto Cramond Brig, where it was narrow enough to defend himself with his sword, but things were looking dangerous for James, up against five men.