Globusz^® Publishing 

Just as things were, to my mind, falling neatly into place, we had the first of a series of several problems, such that the year did not end on the positive note that I had hoped for.

The continuing dispute about the welfare of our animals reached new heights of verbal abuse when I tried to mediate between the farmers and Charles, who had reached another deadlock over a never-ending series of minor disagreements. Almost before I had uttered my first words, Charles turned on me and issued a number of voluble threats along the lines that if I did not support him as the island’s vet, who should have the final say in any matter relating to the animals under his jurisdiction, he would have to take these matters to a higher level and report the farmers for ill treating their animals and restricting his movements so that he could not carry out his work effectively. When I said that I could not believe that they would be cruel to their cattle or any other animal, he then turned on me and issued another torrent of abuse. I tried to calm the situation asking him to specify what he meant by ill treatment. His reply in condensed form was that the problem was of a medical nature and I would not understand. He started flinging his arms around, his voice getting louder and louder and referring to Gerry, Patrick and Ian as, ‘these idiots’, having not the first idea about animals and their needs. I replied that we would not get very far if he kept shouting and insulting people. I was certainly getting nowhere. He then accused me of not having the intelligence to run the islands affairs efficiently, adding that he had no respect for me as the Laird and he had a mind to leave the island.

It all seemed completely irrational. I was not party to the ramifications of the actual disputes about the animals but Charles’s violent outburst did nothing to encourage me to delve deeper into the problem but I knew that in a previous dispute the farmers had enlisted the services of a mainland vet when they thought Charles was wrong in demanding that a Highland cow should be put down. This call for a second opinion resulted in medicines being administered that saved the animal’s life, much to their delight but it so inflamed the relationship between Charles and the farmers that they had lost all confidence in him. I could do nothing to repair this rift. I suggested we all went home to cool down and perhaps talk another time.

Within the next week the relationship between us had reached another low point with further accusations and some recrimination. Charles announced that he would be leaving the next morning. In the event weather and tides did not co-operate so Angus was not able to ferry him to the mainland until the following day. His departure was a sad occasion, and there were some half-hearted attempts to get him to reconsider his decision but it was to no avail. In the cold mist of a wintry morning a few stalwarts at the jetty wished him well for his journey and his future. He more or less ignored everyone and sat in the boat grumpily looking out to sea as Angus cast off and he and his boat disappeared into the gloom.

The poor weather that accompanied Charles’ departure did not abate for several weeks. There were storms with ferocity that we had not experienced before. The rain was relentlessly torrential and the wind reached such a force that at times one was unable to walk without a real risk of injury. Some were actually blown off their feet, usually to the amusement of all who witnessed these tumbles, but it was recognised to be actually quite dangerous to venture out.

During the third week of these conditions our temporary army tents were almost swept away leaving them badly torn and in a very sorry state, with a great deal of their previous contents now in the open and scattered to the elements. There was not much chance to take any remedial action until conditions improved but there continued to be unrelenting forecasts for even more bad weather. Structural damage was occurring to several temporary buildings, and a number of islanders were unlucky with cuts, bruises, and sprained limbs. Matthew and his wife Ruth our doctor and nurse were kept exceptionally busy, their work hampered by the difficulty of actually getting around.

These accidents were bad enough but the most serious happened in Dafydd and Gwyneth’s home when a high wind gusted, bursting open a previously closed door, which dislodged a table causing a Tilley lamp to be knocked or blown over, spilling its contents over the floor and catching fire. Owing to the noise of the wind, Dafydd and Gwenyth, who were upstairs at the time were unaware of any problem until they heard their daughter Alison screaming for help. Eight-year-old Alison had skidded on the paraffin soaked floor and fallen into the flames whereupon her clothing had caught fire. It took a while for her parents to smother out the flames. Their attempt to then cool her leg by applying cold water and not remove her jeans was probably the right thing to do, and their action undoubtedly reduced the burning effect to some degree but her leg was painfully burnt. Doctor Matthew came to their house very soon after the accident and gave advice and medicines to reduce the discomfort. Alison was very brave but the pain must have been intense and some hours later there seemed little relief. Her main concern was that she would be scarred for life, and it certainly seemed that it would be so. Matthew had a dilemma. He thought that further hospital treatment would be desirable, but with the weather conditions outside it was an impossible thing to do. He made her as comfortable as possible and tried to reassure her about the scars that would undoubtedly remain.

In subsequent weeks the weather improved a little, but our situation did not, for several islanders began complaining of flu-like symptoms including chills, fever, headache, aches in the body, and general weakness. All those affected said that they just felt so weak that they did not have the strength to go about their normal activities.

Matthew’s fear was that his patients’ resistance might be significantly lowered over the period of their illness, so that secondary infections, such as bacterial pneumonia, could follow the influenza. However, he was most concerned that his treatment should include dispensing medicine to combat any of the secondary infections, which could cause the most worrying effects resulting from influenza, particularly in the elderly. He could control these infections, if they occurred with antibiotics and other drugs, but he explained that most people recovered from influenza with continued rest in bed, together with aspirin-type remedies that he was now administering, and he had more than sufficient of these in store for future needs.

His concern was justified, for as time went on, it was evident to those who visited Morag in her home that she was not responding as hoped to the treatment. Day after day the doctor emerged with the ever-increasing concern that her heath was slowly failing. Some three weeks later she had a bad bronchial attack and died suddenly in a fit of coughing.

A cloud of despondency covered the island. People had not imagined that illness and death would so quickly come and affect their lives. From the exuberance and excitement of the previous months of our occupation of the island, the enthusiastic activities of building work and the formation of new friendships, so many things were now going wrong. Basic confidences were being challenged.

Jock was immersed in his grief, hardly able to converse as he wandered about hardly believing that his loss of Morag had indeed occurred. Naturally he was unsure of his future alone. Jock and Morag were both God-fearing devotes of the truth of the Bible, together with a strong belief in the Almighty. Most of the rest of us were not well prepared or well equipped to deal with the practicalities the death of one who was regarded as of our family. In a sense the whole island was in turmoil.

I decided that our first task should be to allocate a suitable place for the burial and then build some sort of monument or chapel in which people could pay their respects and worship if they wished. I turned to one person who I considered to be the most likely to be able to express the appropriate condolences for this bereavement, and Miranda immediately agreed to help.

There was an ancient graveyard beside some of the old crofts towards the site of the old village to the south east of the island which we had recently been referring to as Kerry. I went with Paddy to ask him to prepare a grave. While we were there we looked at the possibility of creating a small chapel. There was, Paddy decided, sufficient natural stone laying around for the construction. It would, of course, not be possible for the work to be completed for the funeral but we would give this priority over other building work.

The funeral was held on a cold wintry-like morning, rain and drizzle wafting in on a mist from sea. I said a few words to the gathering, which I was sure, included every member of the island. Miranda added an eloquent and moving speech, remarking on the deep faith that was held by Jock and Morag and feeling that Morag’s life and short time with us was an example of the basic love and happiness that she had shared with us. Many had spent time weaving wild berries and grasses into colourful wreaths and bouquets. Philip was able to play a short lament on his flute and the congregation sang “Abide with Me,” followed by “The Lord is my Shepherd,” before the coffin was gently lowered into the ground.

As the year neared its close there was a general feeling that our run of bad luck should have, by now, run its course and we should look forward to ending the year with a Christmas party, not only for the sake of the children, which was most important, but also to enthuse us all and help lift us out of the doldrums.

Everyone did something to make it a grand party. Giles dressed up and looked a most convincing and amiable Father Christmas, who explained that being an island it had been rather difficult get here during the night and to complete all his deliveries to the children before daybreak. That explained why he was still distributing them to us at lunchtime approached. Every adult also received a present and among the most appreciative were Nick who received a mountain bike, and Jock, who was given a splendid set of bagpipes.

The revelries continued through Christmas such that many saw the party atmosphere as a healing event. Nostalgic memories were exchanged, new friendships were formed and, generally, everyone was revived to eagerly meet the New Year with optimism and determination.