….Tony said that Beryl said that Michael said that Sarah said that Steve said, "this is a tock!" "A what-?" said the rather bemuddled recipient of the peculiar comment while gazing perplexed at the very obvious gap between the speakers forefinger and thumb. The Speaker frowned and turned to Tony standing on his other side and said "A what" Tony turned to Beryl and said "A what", and Beryl turning on Michael (who took one step back) said "A what"…and so the exclamation of confusion passed back around the circle, a bit like a sequence from a Hollywood dance routine, until it reached the idiot who thought of the idea in the first place. He replied "a tock" and this stunning revelation which everyone knew all too well by this stage was pasted beck to the original source of the inquiry. He did not seem much better off with his newly acquired knowledge but thought he'd pass it on anyway. Meanwhile, rapidly approaching from the other direction in a similar fashion was an equally unidentifiable transparent tick! The end of this odd behaviour, other than the learning of a few names, a lot of laughter and confusion was the beginning of the North Uist Expedition, 1980.

It had been the first evening together on site, and we had all crammed into the small marquee in front of the old crofters cottage at the southern foot of Mount Eaval. Stretching away in front of the cottage was a sea lock which penetrates inland a short distance from the labyrinthed channel which divides North Uist from the next small island south, Grimsay. North Uist lies about midway down the chain of islands which make the Outer Hebrides. It is a very bleak and rugged Isle with its mainly lo lying heather clad moorlands only broken by the abrupt angular dwelling which dot the Islands flatter regions, and the many freshwater lochs, irregular in shape, which cover a large proportion of the Islands surface. Trout and wildlife abound and the delicate highland flora always adding a touch of finesse to the wild scene. So, amidst this array of splendour and far from the noise and pollution of man and city came thirty-nine, to experience in the raw, all that a Hebridean expedition can offer.

One of the first major activities to get underway was the canoe capsize drill. I was very impressed that almost the complete expedition showed such willingness to be strapped into a canoe and then to invert themselves for three seconds before releasing the spray deck and executing a forward roll out. For many it was their first time in a canoe and credit is due to Angela and Nicky who put everyone through their paces with such proficiency and in not altogether welcoming conditions. However to my amazement the result was a spat of regular swimming sessions in the loch, the logic behind which I have to admit left me confused! Canoeing was a strong activity throughout the whole expedition and included an all comers regatta, as well as two overnight canoeing bivvies on Loch Obisary. It was to the demeanment of male chauvinism that the canoeing honours were taken by a certain Yorkshire lass, Angela Greetham, who gave a fine display of canoeing ballistics, and earned the first prize - half a Bar Six!! This was not the meagre, even ridiculous reward that you may at first think. The trading power of a tent was very much dependent on its chocolate reserves, and the price of a milligram of Cadbury’s Milk Chocolate at the end of the day on the Eaval Stock Exchange would be dependent on the timings of a store run by any particular group. Mark Hopwood, our Camp Administrator kept a tight control of camp reserves with an almost uncanny intuition for market trends.

So Angela carried off the chocolate for aquative supremacy in the field of canoeing and it is indeed a pity that supremacy in the highly technical sport of lilo racing was never established. In the first heat both delicate hybrid machines were accidentally rendered inoperable after a spell of scrummaging on the part of Martin Walker (Definitely not encouraged by his opposition) Hence dashing the leaders hope of 'chocolate’. Both bungs were lost. However, thanks to Dave Wilson, Mark Johnson, Mark Norman and Kevin Daines, for so enthusiastically preparing the most fiendish course possible.

The only other aquatic activities other than regular and liberal dousing tactics of certain groups for each other, was the sailing of the 'Harvey Wall banger' on Loch Obisary. Once in operation the magnificent surroundings added to the fun and enjoyment of sailing her, and some sailing instruction was achieved.

Rock climbing was led by Simon Lord and many of the expedition received their first introduction to the sport on a small cliff not far from the camp. The basic techniques, principles and safety procedures were instructed before the climbing of a few short rock pitches was undertaken.

Exploring of our surrounding environment, including Islands further afield, mainly on foot was another major expedition activity. There must have been a party ascending Eaval most days of our stay as well as walking the North Uist coast line. Overnight bivvies of one or two nights were undertaken to the bird reserves at Balranald; to Loch Eport where a successful fishing bivvy took place; two to the South Uist mountains; and two real bivvies, one to the island of Ronay and one to the summit of Eaval itself, taking no tents, the night is spent in the wonderful organic properties of a plastic bag! A number of groups undertook project work and some interesting findings are displayed in the appendices.

The ornithologists led by Tim Short took a look at the flight directions of the birds and at the relation between the numbers of common and rarer species of birds observed at a particular location along the coast. Angela Newton led some Marine Ecology doing two small studies, one on seaweed, and the other on limpet shells. Jo Haddock and her team produced quite a number of delightful sketches and these will hopefully go on display at the conference.

Evening activities proved both a valuable and enjoyable part of the expedition as well as being quite diverse. One afternoon Nicky and myself carefully and diligently laid out an orienteering course to be done without maps but on bearings and paced distances. A fair course we thought and not without the odd surprise (one check point was on a 'dun’ in the middle of a loch, with the next out over the water opposite the little stone stronghold). Competitive spirits were at fever pitch as group after group dashed off at ten minute intervals. The resulting mayhem which followed contrasted strongly with the quiet peacefulness in which the course had been laid. One group threw away the compass after the second check point, others were seen high up on the Eaval ridge! Nicky spent much of the evening as acting orienteer warden in the seemingly impassable mid-section of the course. However a victorious group arose to claim the ‘chocolate’, and comprised Claire and Kieren Dempsey, and Iain Martin. Participants held the course organisers firmly responsible for the apparently unrealistic check point distances, and no energy was spared in the defending of their case.

A lively camp ‘wide game' ended with a precise night evacuation of Kierin by fishing boat after he very unfortunately received a badly sprained back. Kieren's early departure is the one sad note of the expedition.

The remaining evenings held little pattern. Vocal expression was tried on many occasions, with the help of S.H.S. song books, mental acrobatics performed on some lateral thinking exercises, some interesting recitals resulted from a game of 'Just a Minute’ and a great deal of confusion over what the man in the 'Land of Nog’ was wearing. A camp song was written, a very interesting and worthwhile debate was held on the subject of the distribution of the world's wealth, and a new team came up with a frisby called 'Ultimate’ was introduced to the Island. The last night became the occasion for all those individual talents to come out and much cultural (?) edification resulted from the ensuing collection of poems, sketches, stories, verse and jokes. The evening was rounded up by Stephen Bradley who gave us a magic show involving a short routine of very fine illusions.

The remaining evenings held little pattern. Vocal expression was tried on many occasions, with the help of S.H.S. song books, mental acrobatics performed on some lateral thinking exercises, some interesting recitals resulted from a game of 'Just a Minute’ and a great deal of confusion over what the man in the 'Land of Nog’ was wearing. A camp song was written, a very interesting and worthwhile debate was held on the subject of the distribution of the world's wealth, and a new team came up with a frisby called 'Ultimate’ was introduced to the Island. The last night became the occasion for all those individual talents to come out and much cultural (?) edification resulted from the ensuing collection of poems, sketches, stories, verse and jokes. The evening was rounded up by Stephen Bradley who gave us a magic show involving a short routine of very fine illusions.

It has been a good expedition and the next day we arose early to pack up camp and head for home. The Hebrides had once again provided their magic on which to build another unique S.H.S expedition. I remember the evening peace and tranquillity that reigned supreme in the camp as a reddened moon huge and very low over the waters in front of the cottage and the last remains of the deepest blue sky were slipping below the horizon to leave in its wake the first stars. It was occasional breath-taking beauty like this coupled with the physical challenges of the environment, shared wit a group of very alive people, which made it for me. No doubt each individual had his/her own reasons for what went towards making the expedition, but I feel the overall conclusion of most of us that North Uist '80 was a very enjoyable and worthwhile experience.

STEVE PAYNTER