Some of my recollections.

This was the first trip I went on, and living in S E Kent it was (not quite) but almost as far away as I could get in the British Isles so I was a little apprehensive as to what to expect. I'd been to a talk with slideshow at my school by someone who'd been on an earlier trip so I had some idea but it still felt like quite an adventure. We travelled by overnight train to Glasgow and then (I'm filling in the gaps by looking at what you'd have to do now) train from Glasgow to Fort William? I'm fairly sure our port of departure was Mallaig and therefore we got the West Highland Line, a picturesque route through the Scottish scenery, this fits with my memory because I am fairly certain we crossed the Glenfinnan viaduct shown here.

© Copyright Phil Champion

18/9/2013 -So it may well have been that the ferry crossed from Mallaig to Lochboisdale. I certainly remember stopping at the school - on more than one occassion - probably on the S Uist trip as well. As I said above, once it had got dark, I'd gone into the ferry lounge but soon started to feel ill - I eventually decided to go out on deck and be sick as I thought that would make me feel better. I approached the rail and was about to throw up when I noticed the lights of the harbour and that we would be docking very shortly so I decided not to bother! Roger, sending me that info, brought back a memory of having some sort of soup at the school when we arrived, I'm thinking something like packets of powdered asparagus or something similar - it was just about the last thing I fancied but having it and being on terra firma, I soon felt ok again. Maybe someone else will remember if that is true. Well, unfortunately, as you can see from Roger's photo, the school is now boarded up - whether that means they have a new one or not I don't know, but the photo should bring back memories for some of you.

Old Schoolhouse, Lochboisedale, South Uist 2013. Photo Roger Butler

We transferred by MacBraynes coach (it was probably in reality bus similar to the one shown above).

The bus took us to the end of the road and from there we had to walk, and from what I remember it was quite a way across very boggy terrain. The journey was made more difficult because of the large number of lochs that had to be circumnavigated. Looking at an OS map now I make it about 2.5 miles to the nearest point on the road at Cladach Chairinis from the croft at Eaval.

I had my birthday while on N Uist and I remember Greg Surrell doing a card for me, I still have it somewhere and when it next comes to light I'll scan it and upload it.

Another recollection - we had a mini chess tournament whilst on N Uist, I had played before - only at a rudimentary level but I participated. The names were put in a hat and drawn. My first game was against Alex Ryba and he beat me in just about the minimum number of moves possible (it may not have actually been 'fools mate' but it was equally quick!) Anyway, my participation in the knockout was very short lived, it turned out that Alex had been junior chess champion in Manchester (or have I made that up to make me feel better?)

Leader Report (From the 1972 SHS report)

I wonder how many of us really knew what to expect on North Uist, despite the pre-expedition circulars and duplicated maps? As we "brunch-waded" through the peat bog in the pouring rain to reach the site, with the memories of a most unpleasant Minch crossing all too fresh, I suspect some of us thought themselves quite crazy.  What was the infectious spirit which moulded us into a community from this soggy start?  — The magic of the Hebrides!

The site, at the foot of Ben Eaval, was the one the Society used in 197O.  It is very remote from roads and settlements — by far the most isolated ever used for a Junior expedition.  As town-dwellers (and most of us were) it was a unique experience to live for a while in this primaeval (sic) place.  A favourite song in the evenings pointed out the contrasts:

'Let me take you by the hand and lead you

through the streets of London,

I'll show you something to make you change

your mind.'

We were indebted to the islanders, and especially to Ewen Nicholson and his friends.  They ferried our heavy equipment from Baymore and brought over our mail and bread when the dreaded 'ROCK BOTTOM’ and 'VINGA' misbehaved. Despite Peter Carey and Gareth's attentions, both boats were barely serviceable and our seaward excursions were limited.  We did a good deal of boating on Loch Obisary however, in a boat kindly loaned by the Estate, and the fishermen found these trips very rewarding.  The new canoes were great value, and even the leader ventured out once. There were long trips across the lochs, and the hydrographers used them for survey work.

Some other projects were ornithology (including the discov­ery of two Golden Eagle eyries), soil analysis, sketching, settlement and archaeological mapping, meteorology, a pollution survey, geology, a stream survey, climbing, a loch survey, and peat stacking.  Everyone spent at least one night away from camp on a bivvy.  We had parties to Baleshare, along the 'North Uist Circular' to Sidernish and Loch Eport school (where David Vale and David Mark were always hospitable), Langass, Lochmaddy, and two fishing bivvies to the islands on Loch Obisary.  Rumour has it that we caught over 8O pollack, though not so many trout. The following pages will contain reports on some of these activ­ities, but here I must single out sketching.  Greg, Ed, Roger Butler and Ian Crombie were those mainly involved though others tried their hand, too — the results were excellent.  We also compiled a survey of bird life for the B.T.O. which will be used in the Bird Atlas of Great Britain, and our pollution work will be passed on to the Conservation Society.

The food was well received, through the efforts of Mark Rayne, a leader's ideal C.A.  The traditional feast on the last night but one passed well — in all respects!

The weather was disappointing on the whole.  We had no storms, apart from the night of the crossing, but low cloud and drizzle persisted.  However, we partly defeated the meteorolog­ical depressions with our enthusiasm, and the last few days were much better — just in time for the arrival of the Chairman and Membership Secretary.  The Membership was found to be in good heart.

MUSIC — that elusive ingredient of a good expedition — was much in evidence, though we found an evening meeting rather un­comfortable sometimes;  the cottage at Eaval was not built for 39.  The terrain made pitching a marquee impossible while the weather and the midges combined to make outdoor meetings haz­ardous in the evenings.  Peter Booth and the North Uist male-voice choir (?) did well to maintain interest.  Mark Jacob's musical offerings will not be forgotten either!

To provide an opportunity for everyone to visit the whole island, we arranged a coach trip for a complete day near the end of our stay.  This was a great success — we visited the R.S.P.B. Reserve at Balranald, the 'dig' at Udal, and spent time shopping in Lochmaddy.  What happened to the leader in the peat bog on the outward journey must pass unrecorded, but it gives me the opportunity to thank the Estate Factor, Mr Shaunessay, and his wife, for their hospitality and help throughout our stay.

A visit one evening from Mr Rick Sibson started some geo­logical prospecting.  Mr Sibson had been studying the ancient fault-lines of the Hebrides, and made the journey to the site specially to outline to us the geology of our area.  We learned we had a Tertiary dyke by our waterfall, and that 'fossil earthquakes' could be found on Ben Eaval.

Finally, a 'thank-you’ to all the officers.  I felt each one contributed everything he had to offer, which is all a leader can ask.  And the 'boys'? (hateful term).  Thank you for being the expedition and making it all worth while.  One of you wrote after the expedition:

"I am sure almost everyone returned more fit, more knowledgeable and more independent than when he set off...'

If that was so (and I hope it was), can we ask for more?  Haste ye back!

ROGER WEATHERLY

Final musings from me, the coach trip around the island, to Balranald and possibly the burial mound in the photos above. At one point we stopped at a beach, one of the white sandy bays, there wasn't anything for miles around - apart from a canoe on the shoreline. Assuming it had been washed ashore we rushed over to have a look at it. Because there were paddles and I think life vests inside we had second thoughts about it being washed up and decided to leave it alone. Sure enough, a few minutes later a couple of local lads arrived and climbed in and paddled around. Where else could you abandon a canoe and come back some time later and expect it to still be there? Did someone lose a contact lens there?

Walking around the lower slopes of Eaval with a small group, lead by Mark Rayne, he was telling 'jokes', the one that sticks in my mind - "I called out to a man who had a banana in his ear, and with what looked like custard and jelly in the other, he shouted back, -you'll have to speak up - I'm a trifle deaf" (It was funny at the time - ah, those days of innocent pleasure!)

If I think of anything else I'll add it and indicate there is new content. If anyone else has memories or photos please get in touch.