Globusz^® Publishing 

A colleague who had worked for me on a number of jobs during my previous employment rang up. At first, I thought perhaps it was to arrange a reunion or to invite me round to meet his family again. But apparently he had heard on the grapevine what I was up to and believed that I would welcome his company on the island. He was right, Paddy was one of the most delightful people to know and he was also one of the most practical I had ever met and would turn his hand to almost anything. He wanted to know quite a bit about ‘the job’, as he called it, and then it was as simple as that. He said: “Can do,” as if he had heard all that the job entailed and he would just carry it out as indeed he had so many times in the past.

“Hang on a bit” — I said. “What about the missus, what does she think, and the youngsters, you’ll not be on your own this time you know?”

“Oh, Rene will be OK she’s been to lots of places with me before, as you know. Shaun will definitely come, he’s getting stale and needs a bit of fresh air in his lungs and Colleen will fit into island life, she needs a change of scenery.”

And that seemed to be that. Just like old times, they were a close family and I remembered many happy occasions, and that I had been in their debt for help several times over the years.

“Look — I said — why don’t you bring your clan round for a drink. It’s ages since we last met.”

When they arrived I had a shock, for Colleen was cradling a newly born baby.

“Got herself in the family way” — Rene said after our initial greetings. “Silly girl” — she added.

“Oh, Mum, you do go on, you know you love ‘im to bits.”

“Maybe, but that’s more than I do for the father, and more than the father does for him, leaving you and his baby like that. A kid needs two parents.”

“I know but I’ll manage, he’ll probably have dozens of new parents on the island. What do you think, Uncle Jim?”

She always called me uncle and it was nice to hear again, I was with her family at her birth and always had a soft spot for her.

“I’m sure you will manage very well” — I said. “If you take after your Mum and Dad you will.”

“I’m going to name him Jim after you — she said smiling at me.

“I’m truly honoured”— I said. Feeling quite touched, I added: “Some other friends of mine named their new arrival, Jim, after me, but unfortunately it was a sheep dog and it never seemed to do as it was told.”

“Shaun, how are you”— I continued.

“I’m OK”— he said confidently. “Dad says you’ve got a lot of work for me to do.”

“That’s right. Basically we’ve got nothing as yet that’s working. We’ve got to take everything to this island and put it all together, sort of build a village, and we will need a lot of hands.”

“Sounds great — he said — I’ve never built a village before.”

“You’re not alone”— I replied. “I don’t think even your dad has done that before.”

It was fortunate that Terry, an electrician who had also worked for British Telecom, applied, as I wanted some backup for John on the electricity side. Terry was married to Kathy, a hairdresser, and they had three school age children Allan, Sally and Miranda.

They told me that when they saw my advert they remembered being fascinated by a TV programme where a group of people had tried to re-create the life of a community in an Iron Age settlement. I laughed when they said they could imagine some similarities with my scheme and said this could well prove to be the case, but I hoped there would be an increasing number of mod cons to assist us into the future.

They asked a number of sensible questions and I was able to reassure them, before inviting them to join me on the island.

I was not happy with my meeting with Nigel; he came across with a suave manner bordering on the arrogant. He was a city trader. Early in our conversation it was disclosed that he was very wealthy. At 27 he had virtually made all the money he needed, in fact much more than he needed to retire with a secure lifetime ahead of him to do whatever he pleased. I was somewhat bewildered. It was not just the money: after all who was I, given my financial gain, to be in a position to make judgements on this account. No, it was more a question of; did he have the capacity for this change, this rapid down-market plunge? My judgement was that he would not be able to stay the course. As I edged the conversation to get behind the bravado, it became more evident that he did not possess any practical skills and, more particularly he did not present any sign of ambition or desire to do anything with his time or make any comment or suggestions about island life. His philosophy had been from the start to “make a fast buck” which was the way he put it, not me. In this regard he had indeed been supremely successful it is true. I could not make out why he asked to see me: perhaps it was some form of curiosity about me, and about the scheme I was proposing. Did he really want to make an application to come to this far-flung place where his financial trading skills would be completely unnecessary? What would he do? I could not illicit from him how he saw himself in this picture. We parted, both agreeing to think about it. I never contacted him or heard from him again.

“A teacher, you’re just what we need” — I said. “But why do you want to come to the island?”

Miranda considered her reply carefully.

“I would like to teach children in an environment where there is an absence of two things which I believe are jeopardising, if not destroying education: behavioural problems and bureaucracy. The teacher’s role is progressively being undermined; certainly it is where I teach in suburban London. Having said that, I don’t want to give you the impression that I just want to opt out for those reasons, I still want the challenge of doing a good teaching job but I do not want to be head-on with the aggression of my pupils and all the social problems that exist in society today. Do you know, it’s only a few weeks into the new term and I have been kicked, spat at and sworn at by young children six times already? A fellow teacher is actually on sick leave because she was attacked by a boy of only 9 years old.”

After I had described the lifestyle she could expect on the island, she asked how many children were expected.

“There could be about fifteen, of all ages. It is probable that they would all come under your direct supervision although there may be unqualified help available. Also, you would have to create the school or classroom from scratch yourself, apart from the actual building. If you agree to come I would need a list of your requirements in terms of furniture, books and other materials as soon as possible.”

“How will I know where to draw the line on cost with these requests?”

“You won’t know. What I suggest is that you assess what you think is necessary, bearing in mind that everything we do will start at a basic level. The worst-case scenario, although unlikely, is that I would ask you to teach without any of the items on your list. What would your reaction be to that?”

I did not imagine that this would happen but I was interested in what she would make of it.

“I will prepare for that eventuality, I have some books and teaching aids of my own which I would bring anyway.”

This was just what I wanted to hear, not that she would bring some books of her own, but that she was not alarmed at the possibility of starting with next to nothing. I offered her the opportunity to come and said that she should think it over before deciding and then let me know.

“There’s no need for me to think it over, I can decide now. I would very much like to be part of the venture and I will get started on the list tonight.”

She walked out with the biggest natural smile possible, and I thought that the benefits of my decision were happening even before I was living on the island.

I picked up the phone.

“My name is Robert. I work as an analyst in the field of Information Technology, experience which I imagine you would have little need for on your island, I suppose you would need skills of a more physical nature.”

“It depends. We will have a need for computer skills above the average and I would like to explore what possibilities there are. Will you come round so that we can discuss things in more detail?”

Robert was at my door bright and early the following morning. Overnight I had thought of one or two matters to ask him. I told him all about my proposals for the island in general terms and then came to the subject of computers.

“Robert, I’ve given you an idea about how I hope the islanders will respond to the various basic tasks, many of them using working methods which have been proved over the centuries, but I also want to look forward to the future and to that end I want all of the islanders including of course the children to have access to the internet. I thought also of the creation of a possible ‘Internet Café’ as I believe they are now called and although I am not sure of the benefits it may bring, perhaps a website for the island. What do you think, how can you help and, by the way, you do realise that it is necessary to commit yourself to actually living on the island?”

“Yes, I got the picture about living there. I’m enthusiastic and willing to be among a new group of friends. There is an increasing tendency for more people to be able to work quite successfully from their homes rather than commute to and from an office. About your other questions: I have played around with computers since I was a boy. I have built many computers from the basic components for friends, and for others for a fee. It is considerably cheaper than purchasing from your local computer store, so I could help in that area. A website is quite easy to set up, I have done several. As to its value for you, it would depend to an extent how much you or your islanders wish to communicate with the rest of the world, I can see possibilities with regard to tourism but that sounds rather against the trend of how you introduced your objectives for the island. Perhaps this would be more for the future but on a low scale. More likely perhaps, is individual islanders having skills or products that would be of interest to a wider audience. Take for instance an artist, there would be very little scope for this person to hold exhibitions locally, but the World Wide Web would allow their work to be viewed internationally. An Internet Café is, of course, just a table with a number of computers all connected to the World Wide Web and available for the use of the public for a fee, but with the added bonus of access to a coffee machine. One point I could mention is that for an island community such as yours you must surely have had to strike a balance in your mind as to the inward looking island, can I say ‘isolationist’ attitude and the modernising ‘people of the world’ view. I’m sure it will be a compromise but modern technology will help you. Communication by e-mail is just one, there’s the mobile phone — although reception may be poor or even non-existent — and there is always the possibility of using satellite telephones.”

I indicated that his first task would be to set up the school with the requisite number of computer workstations and introduce computer-training classes.

“Eventually, when the islanders become more free from the essential initial works of the island, I would want you to extend these classes to the adults. I hope it goes without saying that you would cope with the maintenance and upgrading of the systems when required.”

“Let me know how many units you want and I’ll get started right away” — he said with marked enthusiasm.

“I’d rather you made an appraisal of our needs in consultation with Denise. She is in overall charge of education and the like; I think you will find her helpful. She will also have a view on the level of expenditure that can be allocated. I’ll give you her phone number.”

Trying to juggle who was going to do what on the island had not been too difficult so far, for the various jobs had fallen into place as the applications came in, miraculously not duplicating themselves very often. I had not decided on who should be asked to help Gerry with his farm accounts, when a full-time secretary named Kate came to see me. She was a young Lancashire lass, already working in a busy office of a wholesale marketing company, but it was the fact that she came from a farming background that convinced me. She had worked on her parents’ arable farm until her father died as a result of an accident on the farm some three years ago. I offered condolences and asked how her mother was coping. She told me it was hard for her, the farm had been their life but it all had to be sold up.

“But guess what?” She said suddenly, as if we were both family talking together.

“What?” I replied.

“She’s met this man and they’ve gone out together and get on very well, but she’s worried that it’s so soon after Dad and she wonders what people will think.”

“What do you think?” I ventured, slightly tentative about her involving me in her family matters.

“I think he’s lovely” — she said with genuine enthusiasm. “I keep encouraging her, but she keeps saying it doesn’t seem right to get married to Jack when I haven’t found anyone yet.”

“If you come to the island with us you may find some eligible bachelors to speed things along” — I said.

“Mmm, are you trying to encourage me?”

“Yes, too sure I am, I’ve even got a job lined up for you.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“It’s to help a farmer with his secretarial work, you know typing, estimates, purchasing orders, invoices, filing, help him keep to a budget, everything.”

“At least you’re honest with the job description. When do I meet him?”

“Soon, I expect. I hope you will get on together, he’s a foreigner.”

“Really, should that make any difference?”

“It might. He’s from Yorkshire, His name is Gerry.”

“It seems I shall be outnumbered.”

We laughed as I deliberately repeated that it was such a pity she came from across the border. But, I added, I thought they would get along very well, they would have much in common with the farming.

My bell rang and I opened my front door to find a lanky, spotty-faced youth with long red hair falling over his eyes, grinning at me.

“Are you the guy who’s bought an island?”— He asked without an introduction.

“Yes, why do you want to know?”— I replied uncertainly.

“Thought I’d see wot you’re like. Might ‘ave a go an’ come along.”

“What makes you think I would invite you? — I asked.

“You probably won’t, what wiv all the money you’ve got, I aint got nuffin.”

“What do you do?”

“I nick fings.”

“You’re a thief?”

“Yep, an I’m good at it, I’ve just got into your car an nicked the parcel off the front seat.”

“What?” I said aghast, not being able to think of anything more sensible to say.

“It's easy wiv them early Ford’s. Don’t worry, I didn’t damage the car, and ‘ere’s the parcel.”

“So your name is Nick and you nick things.”

“Yep, Nick by name Nick by nature.”

“It’s hardly at the top of the list that I’m looking for with the people I want on the island. Can you offer anything more — more, normal, shall we say?”

“Nope. But the way I looks and sees it is like this. I ‘eard that what yo’ve been tryin’ to do is to ‘av on this island a cross section of society, yep? Well you ain’t got no one like me ‘ave you?”

“No it seems not.”

“Well it’s a sham, a fraud then, aint it.”

“Your way of life does not seem to be something that I want to encourage in you or anyone else.”

“What about givin’ people like me a chance to kick the bad ‘abits.”

Why havn’t you kicked it up till now?”

“You blokes just don’t understand do you? You stand there actin’ like God and choosing them that goes thro’ the pearly gates and them’s that don’t. You sit in your nice ‘ouse wiv a nice bed. All I’ve got is a grotty squat in a part o town yo’d never put yer nose in, a cardboard box an some old cloves, an’ sometimes the’ve got nicked.”

“That’s an irony. How does it make you feel?”

“Just the same as I feel all the time, knackered, no hope, no way out, bugger ‘em all!”

“Did you go to school?”

“Yep, ‘til I got chucked out.”

“What did you do?”

“Nuffin. Then Mum and Dad split up, ‘e chucked ‘er out, then me.

“Where did you live?”

“Nowhere, just on the street.”

“Did you do any work?”

“Nope. Well I did at first, a few odd jobs, labourin’, bricklayin’, and paintin’, then I found stealin’ a lot easier.”

“I’ll tell you what you can do. Come back tomorrow and paint the woodwork on the front of this house. I’ll see what sort of job you do and I’ll stop you soon after you’ve started if you’ve made a mess of it. If it’s OK you can carry on and we will have another talk about what you mean about giving you a chance.”

“OK Gov, what do yer wan’ me t’do ‘bout the paint an’ fings. Shall I nick ‘em?”

I saw the first hint of a positive expression in his eyes and wondered what I was letting myself in for, would I be judged crazy after all?”

“No, I shall pay for them in the same way that most people go about their lives.”

“Ow much do I get paid for doin’ the job?”

“Nuffin.” I said, getting into the swing of the moment. “You’re on probation.”

“Fought you’d say that” — he said as he walked away. “Bye the way, I’ve just nicked your car keys off the ‘all table, and was goin’ to drive your car away. You orter be a lot more careful, there’s a lot of crooks round ‘ere in this area y’know. ‘Ere... catch.”

I awoke the following morning to the crash of breaking glass. My God, I thought It’s that lad, he’s come back to break in. I chased downstairs and found him looking at me through the front room window.

“What the devil are you doing?” I shouted.

“Calm down Gov, this ‘ere window pane was cracked, you wouldn’t want me to paint round it wivout re-glazing it would you?”

“No, I didn’t think you would be so efficient, and you frightened the life out of me.”

“Sorry Guv. I fought I’d get an early start.”

“Where did you sleep last night?”

“In your shed, ‘ope you don’t mind.”

I turned around to go upstairs and get dressed, still unsure if I was losing it or not.

When I returned to the house later in the day I found that Nick had found my ladder and was painting the upstairs window frames, whistling away to himself. My first thought was, my God, I’ve been a fool again. He’s got access to all the upstairs rooms.

“Have you been inside?” I shouted up to him.

“Well, I did get free monfs once for breakin’ an’ entrin’.”

“Not that, I mean, have you been inside the house?”

“Nope” — he said. “Did you wan’ me t’do the inside as well?”

“No, you know what I mean.”

You’re a cheeky blighter. I thought. But I looked over the painting that he had done and could not find any faults with the standard of work.

He spent the next few days completing the painting and doing various other odd jobs for me. He continued living in my shed and I noticed that he had sorted it all out very tidily.

I was going to either rent or sell the house and I realised that whatever path I chose, I would have to separate those items that I would take to the island from those I would not. I decided that Nick could help me with this and gave him the job of disposing of the things I would no longer need.

“Some of these ‘fings are worf somfin’ on the street y’know” — Nick observed.

“If you can sell them — I said — you can keep the money as payment for your work here. Just clear the lot.”

During the next few days everything seemed to be going very well and I came to the conclusion that he would be an asset on the island.

“You can come if you want to.” I said simply.

“Fanks” — he said with a sort of choking effect from his throat. “I’ve seen you in a different way since I’ve been ‘ere. You know, you said to get rid of them fings you don’t want? I got free ‘undred an fifty quid for ‘em an’ I’m givin’ it back to you. Ere, it’s for the island y’know.”

I hesitated but I did take the money, it seemed the right thing to do.

“You’re a good lad” — I said. “I’ve a feeling you might find it a lot easier living there than some of the others.

The phone rang.

“Hallo, it’s the Nuffield Private Hospital in Harley Street. We have a patient named Giles here. He has wanted me to contact you, to ask if you would be able to come along to see him.”

“What’s the problem? How is he?”

“He’s suffered a heart attack and he’s had surgery for a quadruple bypass. He is in the intensive care unit and is comfortable but still very weak.”

“I’ll be along. Are there any special hours for visiting?”

“No, you can come any time.”

I walked into the hospital and found Giles in his private room. He looked drained of his previous ebullience. Numerous patches, tubes and wires on his upper body connected him to monitoring equipment. TV screens gave a colourful yet impersonal indication of his heartbeat, body temperature and breathing with a barely audible monotonous regular beeping.

“Hallo Giles. Sorry to see that you’re out of action.”

“Jim, I’m so glad you could get along so quickly. I’m a bit groggy, but I’ll try not to fall asleep on you. I’m sure you guessed when we met that my work has been my life. I made a mess of my marriage and as a result of that I have virtually no close family. Associates from my various companies are numerous, as you may guess, but this heart attack, so sudden, has made me focus on things to which I have given very little thought to before. This is why I asked to speak first to you, a virtual stranger, but one who when we met made an unusually strong impression upon me.

My doctors have told me that I must give up my active life-style and unremitting series of conferences, meetings and events that take me backwards and forwards across the world day after day. In effect I have to switch off completely or take the inevitable consequences. I have to delegate most, if not all, of my business interests and make a decision about what I should do myself. To be frank, at first, I could not think what I could do, the future seemed to present me with an immense void. Then I thought back to our conversation and decided Jim, I would like to come with you to your island. Like so many of your other island members, I will start a new life too.”

“Giles, you will be most welcome.”

“I have also thought about your criterion of acceptance to the island and decided that when I’m a bit fitter there may be one or two areas of my experience where I may be of some value to the all those concerned.”

“I’m sure there will, don’t concern yourself about those things now, we will find something that suits you between us.” The nurse was making a few discreet hand movements behind Giles so I made my way to leave.

“I’m being urged to leave you to rest Giles. I’ll be off, but I’ll pop in again shortly.”

“Look after him” — I said to the nurse, unnecessarily.

“We will, he needs a lot of rest and a total switch off from all his previous dealings”— she replied.

“Bye then, Giles. Get well soon.”

“Goodbye Jim, and thanks for coming.” Before I had reached the door to leave the room he stopped me.

“Just one more thing before you go, Jim. You didn’t mention the subject and I am not surprised. It confirms my regard for you: The money. I’ve had a word with my bankers and it’s in the system, you’ll have it by the weekend.”

The meeting with Giles sobered me. Only hours before I had been talking to Nick who was hoping to rise from the bottom of the pile, and now here was a man at the top who had fallen. In the recent weeks I had indeed met a cross section of society. I was so excited at the feeling of being able to draw them together as a group and Nick’s words still rang in my ears, “Well, you ‘aint got no one like me ‘ave you?” It was only too true.

He had admitted that he was a thief; it was possible that he was also mixed up in drugs. There could be all sorts of other unsavoury areas of his life but there did not seem any other opportunity for him to change for the better. He was under privileged, with no fixed address, which was the missing key to any government or council based assistance.

Would it be a sham or a fraud if I didn’t include someone like him? Probably not, but his comments had troubled me and, dare I say it, I was beginning to see his good points. I was beginning to like him. Was I his only hope? The decision was entirely mine, there was no island council as yet for me to get the feeling of others or put it to any vote. I would have to carry the can if he became a nuisance on the island.

Graham rang and asked with a pronounced stutter if he could come along for an interview. He was a very quiet individual, sporting a black goatee beard. He worked as an assistant librarian in the city library in Belfast. It quickly became apparent that I was faced with a difficult decision, because he was not offering any skills that I could immediately see as being useful.

“Why do you want to live on this island? I enquired. His reply was considered and controlled but I believe it originated from a deeply felt frustration.

“I w-want to get away from c-c-city life and all that it r-represents, I’ve had enough of the r-r-riots, the noisy and d-d-dirty streets, the r-r-religious b-bigotry, intolerant b-behaviour, and the l-litter and the g-g-graffiti that is regularly d-daubed on my p-p-p-property. I feel I am now an alien in the p-place that I was b-b-born.”

“I can see you have good reason to leave, but what will you do on the island?

“I aspire to b-b-being an author, I w-w-write poetry and have had a few minor w-works accepted.”

“That’s fine but there is much to do collectively on Enniskerry in order to make this new community function, everyone needs to contribute in some way.”

“I s-s-suppose that I could m-manage s-some office work or c-c-certain things at the s-school if there was a n-need.”

Graham did not seem to be a good communicator even when allowance was made for his impediment. I was trying to find a good reason to invite him because I did have sympathy with his desire to leave and seek a new life. I wanted to help but was struggling for ideas on this one, until Nick, having met Graham in a local café asked: “You goin’ to ask ‘im to the island then?”

“I’m not sure — I said — but I don’t think so. I can’t see him fitting in.

“Yer know ‘e was abused as a kid don’t you? Is father beat the ‘ell outer ‘ím until ‘e ran away. I fink you orter give ‘im a chance, ‘e’s ad a rough life, ‘an ‘e’s worked ‘ard to get at what ‘es doin’ now.

“Well, thanks for telling me, perhaps he does deserve a chance.”

I intended that my interview with Ken, a BBC TV producer, was to be my last. He was married to Jenny and they had two children.

Ken came with a purpose and before I could ask him my usual question about why he wanted to go to the island he said, “I’ve been mulling around with the idea of your project since I first saw the advert and I have done a little homework. Do you mind if I ask you a few initial questions to get some things clear in my mind?”

“Go ahead.”

“The history of this island and of small islands in general is that the life was not sustainable. Nevertheless, you have the confidence to think you are offering a way of life that is different, based more on the modern technologies rather than relying on methods that in the past have failed?”

“Yes, past history is not encouraging, but I have put in place a number of things which I believe will get the island off to a good start for the first year and if successful we can build on that.”

“This is exactly why I have come to see you. I went through a similar process of thought and saw the picture, I believe, much as you have. But I wanted to push those ideas forward beyond that first year. Stop me if you can clearly see you and your islands economy and general situation in the future, say in five years time.”

“Some of my ideas will, I hope, continue through into those later years. But carry on I am interested in what you have to say.”

“Am I right in thinking that you wish to operate the island without the use of money and without interchange with the National Economy?”

“Yes and no. I am playing, with increasing advice against the idea of there will be no need for the use of money on the island because each will give according to his or her ability and receive services from others in return. But on your other point, certainly not, I understand fully that the island will have to participate and exchange goods and services. In fact I am continually looking at new ideas that stand a chance of adding support to the island in future years.”

“That is just what I hoped you would say, because although I am among those doubtful about the wisdom of operating without money, I feared that my idea would go against your basic principles. But before I go into that, first allow me a little detour.

“Millions of people have in the past and continue to this day to listen on their radio to The Archers, ‘An Every Day Story of Country Folk’. Peter Mayle wrote a book about the Provence and as a result, millions flock there every year. What have become known as soap operas portraying the everyday life of ‘ordinary’ people captivate young people and others for hours every evening on TV.

I can see by the look on your face that I am worrying you, but please hear me through. What I had in mind was this. We capture on tape and film the whole of your island project from now on as it happens day by day. It will be done sensitively. Your islanders will, in time, ignore that filming is even going on. It will be the story of the creation of your island, the thrills the excitement, the disappointments of the islanders and their fears and successes. It will gradually create a new trendy curiosity. Your island will be unique and millions in their own homes throughout the country will follow the day-to-day life regularly. The value of this will be two-fold. There will be the TV rights, of course, but in the future an increasing number of people will want to come to your island and will pay good money to do so. You could expand on the island to accommodate a suitable unobtrusive number of dwellings for specialised island experiences and this would produce a regular income.

“There is a lot to think about here. I understand and agree with the basic thrust of your proposal, although I’m horrified at the thought of becoming a soap opera. But first, I have to ask you, where does your primary interest lay, how would you like to fit into this picture and how do I know that you will not utilise this film for your own personal gain?”

“These are fair questions, I have in the past worked as a freelance cameraman, and I am conversant with how to edit and produce film in the manner that is required for transmission. I am offering my services to you in order to carry out the filming — gratis. I would like to stay on your island working in this way to ensure the future viability of Enniskerry and I’ve thought of one way in which I can give you a form of guarantee. It is this: I would gather and edit the film on a weekly basis, each of which would represent one thirty or forty-minute programme. I would, when it had been edited and processed, hand it to you, with a written statement to the effect that it is the only copy. The film would then become yours for safekeeping and you would in fact become the owner of the film. It is possible that we could let this arrangement run for any time up to fifty-two weeks of the first year before offering it out commercially. This would be a decision made either by you or with my advice should you need it. I, too, can proceed with the understanding that we will share between us similar views as to what is financially reasonable in whatever situation prevails. I can also supply numerous references regarding my own background history and to my good character if you wish. Further, I would conform to all the other standards that you would expect from other islanders which I believe includes a commitment to actually live on the island for one year. I do have other work that I would like to fit in during the year but you can be sure that I will pull my weight on the island as well as doing the filming.”

I later asked several people about their views on this matter of filming. There were a few that at first expressed a little reticence. But overall, when I explained the longer-term considerations, every one understood and said that they could live with it; and that it was my decision anyway.

I agreed to break one of my journeys to Edinburgh to meet Ian and Madge who were farming near Dumfries in Kirkudbright. Ian was a robust personality, seemingly very fit and confident. He had inherited the family’s Scottish farm quite recently on the death of his father and had considered selling up after the foot and mouth crisis in 2002. When they saw my advertisement they had come to the conclusion that there would be little to lose and much to gain by relocating to the island.

I explained that we already had one farming family who would concentrate on cattle and dairy farming but there was a further need to deal with arable aspects, and suggested that the best solution might be for them to meet Gerry, Doris and Patrick.

I had learned at an early stage to recognise those who just could not comprehend the principal idea of my advertisement. I was continually amazed that people would ring having clearly not understood what they had read. One or two asked for details of the hotels available, three asked about the quality of the golf courses and fees, one thought I just wanted someone to look after my Scottish property while I was away. A few could not grasp the concept of working but not getting paid. Several wanted to know about what I was doing but had no intention of actually taking part. One thought that I was in some way breaking the rules of the minimum wage act. A couple were abusive and accused me of being one of the land owning rich who were exploiting the poor and labouring classes. One seemed to see the island as a refuge for concealing some illegal activity associated with weapons and the arms trade.

In addition, there were several others who telephoned and either they or I decided during the call that island life was not for them. There were others who seemed sufficiently interested to meet me but were subsequently rejected, proving how necessary it was to meet people face to face.

One, Kevin, a well spoken and mature youngster, arrived in a smart BMW and went all the way in the sense that he understood my objectives and could offer skills and knowledge that I was sure could be a valuable asset on the island. Unfortunately he said that he would not under any circumstances commit himself by signing any form of written contract. He stated that it would be meaningless in law and dismissed my response, that if he regarded it as meaningless that he could sign it without fear, with some contempt. He said that any verbal agreement was equally pointless because he could easily deny what had been said. We both became dogmatic about this simple issue, but it was his last comment, although accurate, that suggested that he was not a man of his word. At that moment I made my decision.

Although I very unlikely to take legal action against anyone. It was the word of the individual and their sense of being able to commit themselves in this way that was of prime importance. I saw Kevin’s definite refusal to be a reflection of other characteristics within him that could turn out to be antagonistic to the smooth running of an otherwise contented group.

Another man, a bronzed young Tarzan-like figure, came and almost his first question displayed his reason for applying. His main interest seemed to be in how many single females would eagerly be awaiting his presence on the island. Later he persisted and again asked, how many single girls had actually applied, so I gave him an approximate number. The answer appeared to please him. I could not deny that he was a handsome figure but unfortunately he was also very conscious of his own appearance. He seemed to be constantly looking for a mirror or a reflective surface in the room for him to adjust or smooth his hair. I felt he wished to project his image as the main reason for him to be accepted on the island. Although he seemed to have some skills that would be useful on the island his manner put me off completely. I think he just wanted a good time for himself.

It occurred to me how necessary it was to meet people face to face. A telephone conversation was simply not sufficient to give anything like an adequate understanding of the person.