Globusz^® Publishing 

I waved my friends away one calm afternoon, and after they had circled and headed away, I walked to one of my favourite places on the island. It was a spot where I could look across the sound in the direction to the mainland and it was there that I sat reminiscing on the differences that this stretch of water, dividing us from a landmass in the distance, made to all of us living here on Enniskerry. Attitudes to all things were so much different. My retrospective mood made me remember what we had achieved from the beginning to now, which was our third year on the island. I know that most, if not all of us, would sum up their time here, as having been a most rewarding period and something that had become a major part of their life experience. Laid down on the soft grass and watching clouds float overhead, I recalled some of the advancements that had been made so far.

My mind wandered back to my first visit and the conversation with Hamish, the ferryman. We had met many times since then as he still ferried people across from time to time. We would share a drink when the opportunity occurred either on the island or on the mainland. He was a man of few words but genuine in his satisfaction that things were going well for us. Of course, as with all the local people, he was greatly saddened by the death of Morag but he indicated that one small thing had encouraged the locals to view me and my objective favourably; it was the knowledge that I refused to be known as the Laird of the island.

I mused over all the interviews I had carried out, chuckling to myself about my doubts concerning Nick and marvelling at his growing confidence in a range of activities that was almost unbelievable. There was Graham too, who seemed to have turned a corner thanks, in no small measure, to Nick’s efforts. Miranda had become a stalwart headmistress at the school. I particularly remember her unfailing attention to Richard and his problems, and she was so proud that Jane had gained a place at university. Then there was Giles, how greatly he had affected and put his mark on the venture. Also Ken for his constructive ideas to take us positively into the future and Angus for his generosity, plus of course all the others, each with important values to add to the sum total of experiences. But, I thought to myself, I must stop picking names like this; everyone was indeed part of a whole. Each and everyone could take the credit for their own contribution.

I also looked back on the actual day of arrival and the raising of the flag on the lodge, which became a moment to cherish and the unfailing help given to me by the council throughout, which was indeed remarkable.

It would be misleading though to remind myself only of the successes. Young Alison had been badly burnt in a fire at their home, there had been the totally unexpected death of Morag and there had been the unpleasant exchanges between our vet Charles, the farmers and myself. I never heard anything more about him. I regretted not getting this one right at interview and feel sorry about the consequential unhappiness that he caused, but I have to say I did not regret his departure. It was the only major personality clash.

The visitation by vandals was also particularly unpleasant event but was resolved satisfactorily. The fortunate saving of three lives at sea deserved bravery medals for those who had carried out the rescue even though it had the unfortunate outcome, as some saw it, in that they were not given sanctuary in this country.

In the overall picture these negative events were, by far, outweighed by the more pleasant exchanges. There were so many compensations as, for instance, the excitement when the children found the skeleton in the cave. Although they had searched long and hard, they were unable to find any treasure. However they made the most of their experiences to tell long, scaring stories to the newest children on the island. Then there was their unbounded joy when they successfully played an April Fool’s joke on some of the fathers.

Jock had kept well and was playing his bagpipes on almost every social occasion. His whisky still is now in operation. The liquid it supplies is available and distributed to all of us on any visit in small quantities. He prefers the excitement of regarding the whole enterprise as illicit and secretive and we all join in as part of the act.

Only last week Colleen gave birth to a six-pound baby boy who they named Jason. As they had promised themselves they held a naming ceremony in the same chapel for Jim and Jason and asked me to carry out the formalities and become the modern equivalent of a Godfather to them both. As with their wedding ceremony celebrations we assembled for the reception in the main hall of the hotel.

I saw this birth as another sign that things would thrive here into the future.

I watched as a group of oystercatchers winged over my head on route to the loch, the sound of their wing-beat the only disturbance to my wandering thoughts. I looked out towards the mainland and saw the Island Queen returning from a shopping expedition and realised how much Angus continues to get pleasure from the shouldering the responsibility for all transportation between the island and the mainland together with fishing and sailing trips for visitors with help from Kate. He finally, but reluctantly, accepted a wage for his work for the island as every other person had done. Although he continually enjoys all the work he does for the island, I hope that some of his regular duties will soon reduce as talks are underway with Caledonian MacBrayne who are considering reinstating their ferry service to the island. In addition to all this, the BBC had committed themselves to a complete TV series of An Every Week Story of Island Folk.” Ten weeks of the series have been shown to date and there seems to be an impressive following with ratings up there, rivalling London’s East-Enders and Coronation Street, suggesting that one day it could do for TV what The Archers did for radio.

My thoughts were broken, by a cheerful voice calling: “Hi there, Jim, don’t forget that I’m cooking you a meal tonight.” I turned and watched Denise, as she came walking towards me. Denise, who had been such a reliable ally in the whole venture, was often in my thoughts. She, with her good sense, had been able to turn many mountains into molehills. She smiled and gave me her hands: “Come on, she said, the sun’s going down and it’s getting cold. Have you been daydreaming long?”

“Yes, I suppose I have — I replied — and I enjoyed every minute of it.”

Together we made our way back to the lodge. Denise busied herself with the plates and within a short time the aroma of good food was in the air.