28 September 2006

16.09.06

I arrived down at the pier very early on the Saturday morning, a beautiful sunny day, a light wind and calm seas, everything I’d hoped for.

The only other person at the pier was Jean McLain, we sat upon the harbour wall and looked over at the island, enjoying the morning sun and marvelling at my luck. Jean also has a boat and makes regular trips out, both with passengers and to fish. Next arrived Billy, he had been out fishing the night before and was down early to wash all the fish scales off the decks. Then Meg arrived with her camera, to document the whole event right from the beginning. Shortly after, Billy Campbell and his wife Margaret arrived, carrying six gleaming lamps for me to light on the island, the bronze and gold bases of the paraffin lamps were beautiful in the sun light and provided the first photographic subject of the day.

I wasn’t nervous about the row, just happy that the weather was good and after making sure all the cameras were assigned and loaded, it was simply a matter of waiting until 10.30 am. The fine weather together with the level of community engagement in the project, encouraged a large crowd of local people to form on the pier to see me off. It was quite a spectacle and no one I have spoken to, can remember ever seeing so many people in that place. Looking back at the photos and the video, I am surprised that a lot more was going on around me than I was aware of, as I was sitting down in the boat readying positions and focusing cameras.

My departure from the harbour was not as smooth as I had hoped for. On one side of the boat was the harbour wall, whilst on the other was Sinclair’s boat and so getting any kind of leverage with the oars was tricky. Finally Brian came down and took one end of the oar and acted as leverage for me to push away with. After the first two fluid strokes with the oars, a cheer went up from the crowd and I rowed smoothly out the harbour and round the pier. As I began to straighten out the boat for the channel between the rocks, I could hear the sound of a violin, at first I thought it was coming from the radio on board Billie’s boat but realised that it coming from the pier and looking up I could see amongst the waving arms, and hear above the shouts of goodbye, Karen Stevens on her violin. I was quite moved that she had come to see me off and it was the perfect touch to what was a very happy, sunny event.

Billy Macintosh followed at quite a distance behind the boat, followed then by Sinclair with some passengers and two or three other boats. I think that out of anyone I had the best view from my seat: Dave directly in front of me, the small flotilla of boats in the middle distance and the tiny figures of the viewers sanding on top of the pier with Skerray behind.

I can’t say I really remember that much from the row, I know I went at it full tilt and surprised everyone including myself with the speed I went through the water but rowing like that over a prolonged period of time, it’s easy to slip into a trance like state. When I felt the boat going of course, I would automatically re-adjust. By about three quarters of the way there, looking behind myself to keep in line, I did wonder if I would ever arrive.

I am very proud of my parking it has to be said… I don’t think even Dave could have done much better, just the right speed and angle. However, once stationary (or as stationary as you can be at sea), I wasn’t really sure what to do, Dave couldn’t help because he had the camera and the other two boats were keeping well out of it. The boat hook was fairly ineffectual and I was beginning to panic. Then, like an angel descending from Heaven, Jean McLain came down the steep treacherous stairs that lead from the port up to the island. Jean had landed on the island earlier, unseen by anyone, and I’m so glad she did. She took our rope and at last I felt we had really arrived.

On Sinclair’s boat were Meg, Bazil, Norman and Morag. Whilst unloading the safety boat of all my equipment, several of the group stepped on the island for a look around. For Norman and Billy Campbell (who has lived in Skerray for many years) this was their first visit to the island.

Getting all the lamps and tent up onto the island was almost as much work as rowing the boat but my jubilation at arriving postponed any pain I was to feel. Alone at last on the island, I chose a flat patch of grass behind one of the central houses and pitched the tent lent to me by the Macintosh family. I had been given the left over sandwiches from the previous night’s concert and sat for a while in the glorious sun. I couldn’t believe my luck, Island Roan, alone in that weather. I spent the rest of the day taking pictures, making some short videos and choosing the best places to put the lamps. It was only later when I began filling the lamps with paraffin, that it became clear that they were not all up to the job. I had six lamps with me, one of the storm lamps lost its wick during transit and the other was clearly a cheap modern version and its wick too fell down into the paraffin, leaving me with only four lamps. For a while I panicked and desperately tried to retrieve the wick but the sun had started to go down and I had to accept that I would to try with four. Mike Roper (the local photographer who kindly agreed to help me document) and I had already discussed it before the event and decided that if I could get at the very least one well-lit window, then with a little help from Photoshop, we could get a good image.

As the sun went down, the wind on the island whipped up. At seven o’clock Mike and I made first contact, he was on top of one of the many outlook points near Skerray along with a gang of local people: Meg Telfer, Dave Illingworth, Bill Telfer, Brian and Irene McLeod. Between mobile phone calls from the mainland, trying to locate my position on the island, I tried desperately to light the lamps against the wind. I managed to get one Tilley Lamp going and one storm lamp, I put both in the down stairs window of the house on the far left as you look at the island. The group on the mainland could see neither me, nor the lamps. I was wearing a white jumper and trying to wave my arms, which was difficult, as once up in the air, they tended to lock, one small side effect of a 40-minute row. Despite telephoto lenses and more than one pair of binoculars, they couldn’t find me. I continued trying with the other lamps, but one began to leek paraffin and the task of lighting the meths tongs was becoming ever more dangerous as the wind got even stronger. The first Tilley lamps couldn’t take the wind and very soon went out, on the verge of tears and exhausted from my efforts, I had to call it a day.

Though the evening was beautiful, I knew there would be many disappointed viewers on the mainland. Feeling deeply disappointed and frustrated, I took to my tent. The stars all came out and naturally, the wind dropped…

It took me a long time to go to sleep, not so much because it was scary to be alone on the island but because I was desperately trying to think of how I could have done it differently. In hindsight, it was a big task for one person, I knew how to light the lamps and the night before, Billy Campbell had them all cleaned up and glowing, so we knew they should have worked, perhaps it was just fate, in the same way that the weather was almost freakily perfect for the row, like someone was looking after me, the lamps suffered the opposite fate. Perhaps the lights of Island Roan are not supposed to be seen again.

Yet, when we consider that Mike and the others could not see the Tilley lamp that was lit, even with lenses and binoculars, can we be sure that the lights were actually ever seen on the island, there is no record of it, it’s something we assume because electrical light is so bright and can carry so far.

I had been teased by many about the pirate who allegedly lives on the island. However, I was more alarmed by my mobile suddenly going off at intervals during the night, called by concerned locals, who were checking to see if I was ok. I still find it strange that I get reception there but not in Skerray.

I got up with the sun the next morning, exhausted and the Macintosh family came to collect me at around 9am.

Mikes picture of me rowing towards the island, made the front cover of the Northern Times, fame!

Feeling a bit guilty that I hadn’t managed to complete my project, I was greatly heartened by the response I received from local people the next day in Skerray who had really enjoyed the rowing event and were only disappointed for me that the lamps hadn’t worked. Sinclair even challenged me to row his boat, which is enormous compared to the one I was rowing, but happily will give me another chance to get behind the oars.

I am now compiling the enormous amount of documentation I have and deciding how I will present it all in the community hall on the 14th of October.

19 September 2006

Trial Run

On Friday the 15th I went down to the harbour with Brian for a final trial run, he negotiated the route out of the port which was the trickiest part of the journey and after rowing a little way we swapped so that I could get used to the newly adjusted Humbly bands, they are shorter and made from newer rope. It’s easy to tell when you’ve made a good stroke, the motion of the boat through the water is surer, it flows better and the sound the oars make against the wood is different. Brian informs me that the piece of wood that sits protectively on the rim of the boat surrounding the pin and humbly band is called a Ruth or Rooth. I have contacted the Gaelic Village, am biale, to learn more of the names given to the different parts of these Shetland boats.

After rowing back in and successfully parking the boat, Brian and Dave swapped over. I had become used to the boat during my turn with Brian and so was able to leave the port myself. I had been a little worried about this part of the journey as I was aware that on the day, I would be observed by a crowd and my manoeuvring would be under scrutiny.

Dave was quietly surprised at my technique and remarked on how he was apparently redundant, the training paid off.

It was a beautiful day, fairly calm seas and sunny, I could have rowed all the way to the island easily but wanted to leave that pleasure till Saturday, and as the weather looked set to continue till the next day, I was really looking forward to it.

Back at the harbour, we met Sinclair, a local man who is only at home on the sea. Sinclair is the nephew of Hector, whose name is on the plaque of two lost sailors that is framed against the harbour wall. Sinclair never wears a life jacket, but equally, he never goes out to sea alone. His mother was born on Island Roan and so I asked if he would like to join us in his own boat for the crossing, which he graciously accepted astride his tractor.

That night, Karen Steven played at the Skerray Community Hall. She is an immensely talented fiddle player and has recently released a CD of her work. The CD is a fundraiser for Aberdeen neurosurgical Ward where she was treated for a brain haemorrhage. It was a great evening and rather apt as Karen’s grandmother is Mina MacKay Steven, who was featured in Timothy Neat’s book, ‘When We Were Young’. She was born and raised on Island Roan.

I left early to get a good nights sleep before the event.

13 September 2006

Humbly bands

Today, Dave, Brian and I went down to the harbour to check out the boat again. On Sunday I had joined both men as they put the boat in the water for the first time in quite a while. I was allowed a turn around the bay with Dave but it didn’t last long. The oars are attached using ‘’humbly bands’’, which are basically just ropes, which pass through a wooden pin, which then slots into the side of the boat. The oars I am used to, are not attached using this method and whilst they don’t allow for feathering, they are much more stable. After rowing for a short time in the bay, the first humbly band broke, Dave was able to mend it to a fashion, just long enough for us to run aground…Dave, after some strenuous back rowing was able to free us from the sand and seaweed, but then broke the second humbly band and we were essentially marooned in the bay. Fortunately the water was like a millpond and Brian was close at hand with a very long rope to haul us in.

I like to think that I broke the humbly band as a result of my massive, newly acquired strength since training began, not the fact that the ropes were at least ten years old and completely rotten. The short trip highlighted a few small problems with the boat, all of which, Dave was able to fix, masterfully.

Today we gathered again at the harbour, for a test run with the new ropes and strengthened oar, but despite blue skies, the South Westerly wind was quite strong and it was decided that to go out on the water in that wind would diminish rather than bolster my confidence before the big day. I don’t think I had properly appreciated the effect the wind can have on rowing conditions and I just hope that Saturday is calm and has but a gentle breeze, fingers crossed.

Everything is in place for Saturday, I have my tent, lamps, all camera positions are manned and I am strangely calm about it all. On Friday evening there will be a ceilidh in Skerray Community Hall, with which, there is a lovely connection. The main performer on this occasion will be Karen Steven, whose grandmother, Mina Mac Kay Stevens, lived on the island and was featured in Timothy Neat’s book, ‘’When I was Young’’.

I have only recently found out that Mina’s sister, Nan MacKay, is the aunt of my Uncle’s partner. Sadly Mina died last year and as a result Nan has been spurred on to record her own stories and anecdotes from her time spent on the island. Nan visited the island last week whilst visiting the area, unfortunately I was in Glasgow at the time but we have arranged that I will visit her sometime in October to film her telling her stories. The material will of course be given to the MacKay Country archives.

I am excited about Saturday but as the time draws nearer, I am a little worried about staying overnight on the island alone. However, I draw comfort from Jon Holingdale’s assurances that I don’t need to worry too much about the overnight stay on the island, a) because by the time I get there and have that huge adrenalin buzz and then run around illuminating...I'll be completely knackered and will sleep like a baby, and b) in any case its very rare for the polar bears to arrive before mid-October…

I hope he’s right about the polar bears…
Dave Illingworth and Brian Mcleod at Skerray harbour as they fine tune the boat.

Stop Motion Animation Workshops

Images from three, two day workshops in Stop motion animation with Altnaharra, Farr and Tongue Primary School. The films will be shown in an exhibition on the 14th of October, along with my own work in Skerray Community Hall.


''The Gruffalo''
Produced, animated and filmed by Altnaharra Primary School




''The Witch's Romance''
Produced, animated and filmed by Primary Seven
Farr Primary School



''A Bag Of Gold On Island Roan''
Produced, animated and filmed by Primary Four
Tongue Primary School

11 September 2006

05 September 2006

On the 16th of September there will be no rain, only blue skies and clam sea!!!

So, September the 16th is the day. Probably leaving around 10.30am. It should take roughly 1.5 hrs to row to Eilean Nan Ron.

I have recruited a full crew from the local community of Skerray:

Camera people: Dave Illingworth, Billy Campbell and Celia.
Safety boat: Billie Macintosh
Nighttime documentation of the lights: Photographer, Mike Roper
Providing boat: Brian Macleod

So far I also have the use of six lamps: two from Celia, two from Billie Macintosh, who is also lending me a tent, and two from Billy Campbell. Ideally I would like a few more but six is a good start.

As well as practicing on Modsary Lochen, I will be taking to the sea in a test run early next week with Brian. Understandably he sounds a little worried about his boat, but hopefully by that time I will have the technique down and will be able to put his mind at rest. Jon Hollingdale would have liked to have volunteered for filming but can’t make it, so has offered me the use of his professional rowing machine, complete with mirror, (so I can practice my brave, young thing faces for the camera) any time I like.

Thank you to all these people for volunteering their help, hopefully the weather won’t let us down and it all goes to plan.

In between preparing for the expedition, I have been leading Stop Motion Animation workshops with local Primary School children, the last of which will be tomorrow and Thursday with Altnaharra Primary School.

I have already led the workshop with the four Primary Four pupils at Tongue and the six Primary Seven pupils from Farr. The workshops have produced great results. Stop animation is a very time consuming method of animation but the results are fascinating and really caught the imagination of all the pupils involved. Despite the relatively short time of two days in which to develop a story from beginning to end, we achieved a lot. The students were extremely enthusiastic and responsive, this is reflected in the scope and imagination of the work, all of which was their own. The pupils began by choosing together, a story from the local area, and then transferred the story onto storyboards. The next step was to design and make a stage set for the story as well as choosing appropriate objects and props to aid us in the following day’s filming. The small groups allowed each pupil a chance to have a go at both animating and operating the equipment used in recording, and over the course of the two days, the pupils naturally assumed their preferred roles within the process, in what were two wholly collaborative works. The soundtrack for the Farr animation was provided by one of the Primary Seven girls, who is a very accomplished young bag- pipe player. The entire school provided the soundtrack for the Tongue animation as they performed the Gaelic song, Gleann –Gollaidh, written by Rob Donn. The final, edited version of the animations will be presented to each school and I intend to show the animations at my end of residency exhibition in October.