Mingulay I, 1975

LEADER'S REPORT

The next time you meet one of those people who would have you believe that Paradise is a Utopian dream, a state of perfection unobtainable to mere mortals, nod sagely and turn away, for far too many people know about Mingulay already.

Mingulay is perhaps one of the remotest sites that the SHS visits, and this character of isolation, together with the variety of scenery there, make it one of the best. I was not leading an activities expedition however ( as any member of the party will tell you) , but one where the primary objective was to enjoy ourselves. For many of us this meant the opportunity to do some original project work.

The origin of the expedition was the conference where I met many of the people who were to eventually come. Yet each expedition has also a spiritual origin, and I suspect that this had been developing in us for several years prior to the conference. After all the skills of living together are not easily learned and I was glad to have so many members who had been on expeditions for the past five years.

The events which led to the delay in getting to Oban could fill this report by themselves. However, when we finally arrived with all the food and equipment we added further confusion to that normally present on Oban pier. The food was hurriedly unpacked and then loaded into one of those red MacBraynes boxes and labelled to go... to Tiree! I could see it was one of those days.

In contrast the tranquillity on Barra was delightful, although as the Sound refused to calm down we were delayed. Eventually we left Barra and crossed to Mingulay, and, with the food and equipment moved from the landing site to the Priest's House, two days of activity and Inventiveness began. Furniture was built, pits dug, water laid on, and a flag devised to signal occupancy of the lats.

But what of Mingulay itself? There is little that can be added to this description by Donald Campbell written in 1967:

"A green grazed bowl, sand blown ruins, and a shingle sheltered bay at the centre of a semicircle of barren hills which soon end in superb precipitous cliffs and the Atlantic. Above all the lingering sense of its history of violence, poverty, and disease - of man fighting a losing battle against the elements - that is Mingulay."

Soon the days were flying by filled by the Mingulay Test Match, the 180 yd assault on Hecla, whaling in the Campari, - all were high spots. But we managed to find time to work as well, Ian on botany, Craig on animal behaviour, Tim collecting and recording the fungi, Si on marine ecology, and Ben mapping the village. Brinley drew while Calum and John did their best to catch small mammals for a survey. Tony did his best to catch larger ones for rabbit pie. I hope all our work will be on display at the conference where we should have enough space to set out our studies fully.

There is perhaps one activity that should be documented further. For the first time in over a century Mingulay saw the brewing of homemade beer. For several days the whole camp was devoted to seeing that it was kept at a high enough temperature to allow it to ferment. Amazingly fermentation was complete in six days and the brew bottled. After about ten minutes the first tasting session took place and it was declared utterly awful, earning the name 'Pooh juice' which it justly deserved. Attempts to persuade challengers to come forward to take part in the great "Pooh juice"  drinking contest were not over successful. However, there was nothing in the rules to say how long the juice had to remain drunk. Peter Cowley was duly awarded the prize for managing a pint in about six seconds. It's not that he wanted to drink it that quickly you understand, but it is not wise to take longer over it than can be helped.

Very many thanks must go to Craig for doing an excellent job as Camp Administrator. His hard work meant that I could spend much longer in bed, and we did have faith in him, didn't we? I must also record my sincere  thanks to Ian as medic, for his general assistance and common sense was vital to the expedition. Finally thanks go to the S.H.S administration for their work that made Mingulay I a success.

All good things come to an end as did Mingulay I, and four of us were to remain while the others departed. Well I remember watching so many new friends waving frantically from the rail of the 'lona1 as she steamed out into Castle Bay. A strange feeling of loss came over me and I stopped waving...because my arm hurt.

-NICK DEELEY

Above: Departure day for Mingulay II, R to L. Ian Wright, Nick Brown and Nick Deeley and a visiting kayakist.    Left : John Taylor plays a tune

The expedition medic Ian Wright butchering a dead sheep which had been harassed and killed by Greater Black Backed Gulls! Photos courtesy of Ben Buxton