Box and Fiddle
Year 09 No 03
November 1985
Price 30p
12 pages
8 month subscription £3.75
Editor – Ian Smith, 50 Mount Vernon Road, Stranraer Tele 4098
B&F Treasurer – Mrs Cathy Andrew, 22 Lochinver Crescent, Foxbar, Paisley Tele 2824
The main features in the above issue were as follows (this is not a comprehensive detail of all it contained. The Club reports, in particular, are too time consuming at this stage to retype).
Editorial
I know that it was passed at the AGM that the publication date was to be the first of the month, but, so far it has just not been possible.
As there were only about half the Clubs represented at the AGM, the other half have been slow to respond. However the message is getting through now and we will still try and get near the new publication date.
Reports gleaned from various sources go towards an increase again in support at Club level and that is good news. Some are still finding the going rough and no doubt they will be digging in and holding on.
No more letters will be printed re the AGM. It is time to call a halt.
Brilliant Festival at Perth
by Ian Smith
Bill Wilkie certainly pulled out all the stops for his 1985 Festival Concert. Early in his career, Bill toured the Continent and the Far East in shows with Peter Sellers and like artistes, and the experience shows, both in his production and ease of performance on stage.
The balance of the show was perfect as it sped along and, of course, the ingredients absolutely right for the Scottish audience, with Ian Powrie and his old friends Jimmy and Joan Blue, Mickey Ainsworth, Dave Barclay, Jack Cooper and young Duncan Black.
What a performance they gave us and as it said in the programme it was ‘simply the most wonderful sound in Scottish music’. Before they finished they had the crowd clapping, stamping and calling for more.
This year, Bill deviated from his custom of presenting a Continental artiste and instead featured one of Scotland’s own professionals, Jimmy Cassidy, who dazzled the audience with the sheer brilliance of his performance. No electronic gimmicks here, just an ordinary accordion and Jimmy Cassidy ably accompanied by Blanche McInnes (piano), Ken Black (bass) and Dave Blyth (drums). It is not surprising that Jimmy Cassidy is experiencing meteoric success in his professional career.
Jimmy hails from Milnathort and, of course, received his accordion training from the wee man himself. As a student Jimmy was a consistent winner at the Perth Festival. He was the Junior Scottish Solo Accordion Champion (Trad) for three consecutive years, then went on to win second place in the Senior Scottish then at the age of 16 became the All-Scotland Accordion Champion.
The variety artistes (which are necessary for a good balance) took up little more than 30 minutes of this mammoth show. Tops in their own particular sphere they included George Duffus, funny as ever, John Scrimger, Perth Theatre’s accomplished musical director with the lovely singer Helen Goodison and the popular Maggie Firth dancers. The rest was all accordion spiced as it was with a delicate sprinkling of beautiful fiddle music.
The atmosphere was tense and the standard very high for the finals of the All Scotland Accordion Solo (Trad) Championship. Jimmy Blue was the adjudicator, but, of course, everyone adjudicates the great contest in their own mind and I’m sure most would agree that we have a worthy winner in Neil Caul from Kirriemuir.
Special mention must be made of Blanche McInnes, a talented and accomplished musician if ever there was one. Her excellent work as accompanist is always noticeable and on this occasion her backing of Jimmy Cassidy was demanding and flawless and with only the briefest rehearsal. Bass player Ken Black and drummer Dave Blyth also gave a remarkable performance.
With seven halls running from 9am, nine adjudicators, hundreds of competitors and a huge and highly proficient staff and everything going like clockwork, ‘Scotland’s Greatest accordion Event’ seemed to be a pretty true statement.
Senior Scottish Traditional
1) Neil Caul
2) Graham Jeffrey
3) Mark Anderson
Senior Scottish Pipe Music
1) Elizabeth Steven (Caithness)
2) Alan Morrison
3) Michael Philip
Junior Scottish Traditional
1) James Coutts
2) Alan Gardiner
3) Lynn Gould
Junior Solo Pipe Music
1) James Coutts
2) Alistair McLeod
3) Lynn Gould
Senior Ladies Scottish Trad
1) Karen Leitch
2) Jennifer Forrest
3) Dianne Armstrong
Junior Girls
1) Lynn Gould
2) Yvonne Kirk
3) Laura Martin
Own Composition
1) Michael Philip
2) Neil Caul
3) Brian Morrison
Trios
1) Neil Copland (Dundee)
2) Elizabeth Steven
3) Jennifer Forrest
Scottish Country Dance Band
1) Karen Higgins
2) Karen Leitch
3) Jennifer Forrest
Junior Fiddle
1) Paul Anderson
2) Rebecca Hunter
3) Allison Dewar
Senior Fiddle
1) Joan R. McLauchlan
1) Duncan W. Chisholm
3) Inga Scott
CLASSICAL
7 Years and Under
1) Ross Irvine
2=) Iain Anderson & Mhairi Smith
4) George F. Napier
9 Years and Under
1) Liam Smith
2) Donna Muir
3) Mhairi Coutts
11 Years and Under
1) Wayne Robertson
2) Scott Jarvis
3) D. A. Banford
13 Years and Under
1) Angeline J. McCloy
2) Russell Torrie
3) Leslie Gibb
Area Junior Championship
1) Craig Drysdale
2) Gordon Haddow
3) Fiona C Kenneth
Preparatory Solo
1) Colin McNeill
2) Scott Anderson
3) Stuart Holmes
Elementary Solo
1) Fiona Linton
2) Eleanor Barr
3) Angela Taylor
Intermediate Solo
1)
2)
3)
Higher Intermediate Solo
1) Craig Nicoll
2) Andrew Thomson
3) Kenneth Turley
Open Solo
1) David Preston
2) James Grant
3) Alan Preston (Shotts)
Area Advanced Championship
1) Nicola Reid
2) Michael Paton
Entertainment
1) Clyde Valley Keyboards
2) David Martin
3) Pamela Mutch
Preparatory Duet
1) Donna Muir & Lillian Campbell
2) Rhona & Ross Irvine
3) C. McNeill & Lesley Morrison
Elementary Duet
1) Russell & Lindsay Torrie
2) Alan Locke & Campbell Love
3) J. Armstrong & Leslie Baird
Intermediate Duet
1) Ian Stewart & Kenneth Turley
2) Stewart Law & Angeline McCloy
3) Susan Brown & Iain Newton
Higher Intermediate Duet
1) Gordon Haddow & Craig Drysdale
2) Graham & Lorna Jeffrey
3) Alisdair Mathiesion & W. Sweeney
Advanced Duet
1) David & Alan Preston
2) James Grant & Scott Leslie
3) Norma & Linda Frater
Preparatory Band
1) J. R. Brown Prep Band (Wishaw)
2) Bill Smith Junior Band
Elementary Band
1) Lola Blair Boys’ Band (Glasgow)
2) J. R. Brown Elementary Band (Wishaw)
Intermediate Band
1) Fife Accordion Band
2) Dundee Accordion Band
3) Gillespie Accordion Band
Advanced Band
1) J. Blair Advanced Band
2) J. R. Brown Advanced Band
Group Section
1) Dundee Accordion Band
2) Fife Accordion Group
3) Second Dundee Quartet
Bell Trophy Championship
1) Gordon Stewart (Kirkcaldy)
2) Iain Wood
Graham Geddes
by Jimmy Clinkscale
Aberdeen bandleader Graham Geddes seems to have been around the Scottish danceband scene for so long that it is difficult to appreciate that he is still only 24. In this profile Jimmy Clinlscale, of the Clinkscale Music Centre, Aberdeen, takes an in-depth look at the man and his music.
Graham Geddes rates his father Wattie and his mother Ina as having the biggest influence on his career, and Ina certainly must get the credit for pointing him the way of the accordion.
Graham recalls amusedly, “I was nine at the time, and my sister Rosemary had tried the piano, but was reluctant to cross Dyce every time she had a lesson. So my mother told me ‘If you want to learn an instrument, it must be something that can be thrown under the bed, as I don’t want to clutter up the room’.”
As a reward for having his tonsils out, Aberdeen musical enthusiast Tony Barron bought the youngster a 50p cardboard accordion, and a new young Scottish star was born.
Lessons from Mrs Willis Garrard and Pete Farnan led to Graham becoming a bandleader by the age of 14.
Says broadcaster Robbie Shepherd, who has helped Graham along the way “He came through the ranks as they say, and now has to his credit a most impressive list of awards to prove his ability, not only as a solo artiste, but with trios, bands, aye, and even hos own compositions, winning most of the premier awards in the Scottish traditional accordion music circles.
“As a bandleader, he’s the ‘boss’ – choosing musicians and adapting their talents to suit his own style of playing.”
None of the tall, slim, fair-haired young bandleader’s family had any real musical talents, but Graham quickly changed that. He won his first trophy in 1973, was North of Scotland Champion in 1976, won at Aberdeen Festival the same year, and triumphed at the North-East Festival at Keith two years in succession. He also won the piping section and trio section at Musselburgh.
Now ten years a bandleader, his talents have taken him to Cairo, where he played at a St Andrew’s Night at the British Embassy; a tour of France; and countless gigs at top venues from the Shetlands to south of the border.
Only recently he was playing in Canada where he was offered a full-time job by bobby Brown.
“Although I am heavily committed for 1986, I am still seriously considering Bobby’s offer. I am young, free and single with no real ties, so I may well take up that offer next year. But an engagement in Vancouver is very much on the cars next year anyway.”
Although Graham emphasises that he leads what is still very much a Scottish dance band, at many engagements, and particularly in Aberdeen, his line-up is very much a ‘showband’.
The current line-up is his right-hand man, Fife-born David Little (piano), Shetlander Tommy Sutherland (drums/clarinet), John Anderson (vocals), Pamela Murray (double bass) and Doug Mills (jazz violin) all from Aberdeen with Hebbie Gray frequently guesting on fiddle. “I am very fortunate to have Hebbie Gray to assist me,” points out Graham.
With Graham now singing (he took a Diploma from Trinity College in an external examination) and also playing electric keyboards, the band has a great degree of flexibility.
“I don’t have a second box as I wish to achieve an individualistic sound, which I think I have succeeded in. My main worry, like all bandleaders, is keeping the band together. Although I began by playing a Hohner Atlantic IV, I now have two Victorias which I think are ideal for all types of playing”.
A prolific writer with more that 30 compositions, he has now produced his fifth album – “At Home with Graham Geddes” – and is hoping to publish a book of songs.
He has been bandleader and arranger for four of Ross Records ‘Auld Meal Mill’ albums, acted in the same capacity on a John Mearns solo album, and cut a single with Robbie Shepherd ‘Up the Dons’ to mark Aberdeen FC’s recent soccer triumphs at home and abroad.
He has featured extensively on radio; appeared in two Grampian TV series; and has done many ‘Accordion Bonanzas’ all over Scotland.
A recent spot on ‘Take the Floor’ from Keith produced a flood of congratulatory letters – including one from Dublin piper and pipes manufacturer Leon Rewsone, who was extensive in his praise of the band’s calibre.
One of the band’s most unusual and deeply satisfying TV appearances was a live network Hogmanay show for the deaf – filmed in Aberdeen. And the band have also played for the deaf at Aberdeen Beach Ballroom.
Graham explained that hearing people help their deaf counterparts by miming the dance, and the vibrations from the floor assist in assessing the beat. “We really got a great deal of satisfaction out of doing these performances” says Graham.
Although he rates the TV appearances as the highspot of his career to date, he is very enthusiastic about the regular Saturday nights at Aberdeen’s Beach Ballroom which attracts more than 600 folk. The band also play at civic receptions there.
As a traffic supervisor with Servisair at Aberdeen Airport – not far from his Dyce home – he is used to starting work at 5am and then often not getting to his bed until 2am the next morning after driving home through the night in the band’s Toyota van from far-flung engagements.
He has a soft spot for Shetland and will be returning in January to feature in Jimmy Burgess’s squad for Up-Helly-Aa – having been personal musician to Jimmy for his Guiser Jarl role.
For relaxation, he turns to private flying (he had already completed three hours solo flying) and songwriting. Although he enjoys an occasional lager, neither he nor his band ever drink alcohol while working.
“The regular order is always five cokes,” laughs Graham. “I firmly believe that drink and work don’t mix, and people respect you for adopting that attitude. Mind you we all eat like horses.”
Graham’s own favourite player is Irish accordionist Dermot O’Brien, who now lives in the USA, and will be appearing at the ‘Auld Meal Mill’ again next year.
Among the people he would like to pay tribute for their help to him over the years were the late Bill Spence, who gave him many books for his music collection, and the late Ronnie Cooper.
“Ronnie was a man and a musician I much admired. He wasn’t a man prone to giving presents, but I remember leaving Shetland on the St. Clair, and Ronnie pressing a box into my hand. It contained a Norseman’s tie-pin which I much treasure. It was a very touching moment.”
Although his hobby is flying, Graham Geddes has his feet very firmly on the ground. He has no immediate plans for marriage – “my musical career is the thing that counts just now” – and it may well be that he will be lured to the great professional music opportunities in Canada.
Meanwhile, his playing talents, bandleader-arranger attributes, and disciplined professionalism makes this personable North-East young lad a potent force on the Scottish band scene. Just keep the tunes coming Graham!
Reflections of a Scottish Fiddler
By Arthur Scott Robertson
The war to end all wars had ended itself on 11th November, 1918, and I, at the age of seven, found myself with rather confused tangential recollections of pervading sadness and gloom; of a nation fighting for freedom and at the same time denying it to those summoned to fight.
Some returned, but so many did not. Our croft was in the valley of Grunafirth, from which it in turn took its name, and lay 18 miles north of the town of Lerwick.
A house of four rooms provided adequate accommodation for the family, and careful husbandry ensured a healthy subsistence level. In the ben, or best ,room was a piano and suspended on the wall a fiddle. My father was the fiddler, my mother pianist and church organist, but both instruments had remained mute during the years of international conflict and anguish.
Ecstasy
A time, however, had to come when music would serve as a palliative to melancholy, and only then was I introduced to the magic of instrumental harmony. Transported, this, my very first ecstasy lives with me to this day.
The need for a fiddle for me was immediate and I was spared a lengthy wait; but I have no recollection of ever of ever using a half- or three-quarters size instruments.
Until I went to school in Lerwick I played mostly by ear for probably three years, and during that time came under the influence of Willie Hunter of Billister, a fiddler of great ability and greater modesty. He was the first of those talented musicians who, all my life, appear to have been waiting in the wings, ready to advise and assist me. In due course I shall pay grateful tribute.
It was inevitable that over the years I should by observing, listening, trial and error, reach firm conclusions on how to play and interpret Scottish fiddle music. These I hope to impart in due course, without tutorial intent. I have to declare an aversion to dogma and bigotry. Jocosely the two ugly sisters of music, in culinary allegory they may be referred to as the diet of cultural constipation!
1920-24
After resisting the idea for years I finally accede to the encouragement of attentive friends who feel I should express myself on the subjects of fiddle playing and life. Living is easy – you’ve only got to breathe, but fiddle playing is infinitely more difficult. It is an art offering little reward apart from the satisfaction of personal achievement.
My prime intention is to produce a light-hearted portrayal of how I adjusted and thereafter re-adjusted along life’s kharmic groove, interpolating casual fiddle playing wherever it fitted best. There was no incentive until……..but that comes later. I shall be ambitiously anecdotal, objective, reasonably chronological and hopefully interesting.
Amused
Glancing at what others do I am amused to discover that an increasing number of people appear to have forgotten their birth date. ‘Born at an early age’ is a jestful legend, but when the laughter subsides no date is volunteered. It is safe to say that men are more guilty than women, but then they usually are, aren’t they? If a fiddler claims that he started to play at an early age the cynic would probably ask why? But more seriously I believe we all have asked ourselves the question as discouraging situations arose, but then just resolutely carried on.
Let me now be retrospective and revert to the period 1920-24. An only son in an isolated crafting environment, my attitude to it was polarised in a distaste for the bucolic life and predilection for fiddle playing. In later life I never miss the opportunity of a holiday in the country. Particularly unpopular were the daily long walks with father over the hill pasture during the lambing season, but one day he told me an interesting story.
Pointing to a spot not far away he informed me it was known as Mary Morrison’s grave. Before his day and before roads were made this poor old woman had died on her way home from a distant village. Not unusually, a rough coffin was constructed from the tarred timber of an old boat and Mary was buried where she died, in an unconsecrated, unmarked grave. We walked over to where there appeared to be a slight depression in the ground. Father pushed his staff about three feet into the soil and made positive contact with the wooden coffin. It had been perfectly preserved in the moor, but when the staff was withdrawn, gasses were released which made us move quickly up wind.
Twelve dwelling houses nestled in Grunafirth Valley and in only two was the fiddle to be found – our house and that of my uncle. They were conveniently juxtaposed and gave shelter to Grunafirth’s only three fiddlers – my father, my uncle and just qualifying for mention – me.
Indispensable for dancing in Shetland, as elsewhere, the fiddler was a man of considerable importance. But in a more general context people listened appreciatively to fiddle music and each district gave chauvinistic support to their local favourite. My parents used to pass on to me the names of these dilettantes with respectful comment.
Friendly Fiddler
About 15 years ago, my wife Nelly, son Neil and I were spending a short holiday in the country. A friendly fiddler who lived nearby used to call occasionally for a chat, a tune, a dram or preferably all three. Recalling that fiddler X of earlier repute had lived in the vicinity I inquired of my friend if he had known or known of him.
Oh yes, as a young man he had known X – a very good player, but he always had some difficulty with ‘The De’il Among the Taylors’. Thereafter, any confidence I may have had in hearsay evaporated.
In the early ‘20s a neighbour working in Edinburgh came home on holiday and brought with her an HMV photograph. It bore a label depicting a dog peering into the horn and used barrel records. Invited to come and listen I was thus introduced to the playing of James Scott Skinner and experienced my second ecstasy. It was inconceivable to me that a fiddle could be manipulated to produce such magic and from that day I have held the conviction that Scottish traditional fiddle music is unmatched by any other. The permutations of bowing and fingering are unlimited and to this day fall far short in exhaustive exploration.
Christened James Skinner, he paid homage to a favourite dancing master, William Scott, by adopting his surname as a middle name. Eventually he was more familiarly referred to as Scott Skinner.
He started to play the fiddle about 1850 at the age of seven, and in 1852 came under the influence of Peter Milne of Tarland, who inculcated in his the distinctive characteristics of Scottish idiom. Later he was to emerge as a dancing master. In 1855 he enlisted in Dr Mark’s celebrated troup of ‘Little Men’, at that time performing in Aberdeen.
He moved with them to their headquarters in Manchester, there to start a six years’ course which he did not complete. However, he had the good fortune to meet Charles Rougier, and under his tuition studied Kreutzer, a French violinist of considerable stature.
Prolific Composer
To this, Skinner attributes his significant progress in both classical and traditional music. A prolific composer and outstanding player, he imparted original ideas and renewed vigour to a rather ailing tradition. Undoubtedly, our leading composer I rather feel he permitted himself to compose too many tunes, consequently many below his optimum. Those who claim to play in his style are simply only playing his compositions. His style was as singular as his temperament, but there are 100 other ways to demonstrate individualism.
Shetland has always depended on the sea as the provider of both food and subsidy. Local fishing activity apart, many of the male population had to join the Merchant Navy or settle for other nautical employment. In the ‘20s some were attracted to whaling in the Antarctic, enlisting with Salvasen of Leith on seasonal engagements. South Georgia was the base, working with Norwegian crews.
Return
One year, two young men from Grunafirth were recruited and missing their company, I looked forward to their return with anticipation. One arrived with a small, rather unpredictable monkey he had acquired in South America. It had an obscene habit of excreting in its hand and then throwing the product at whoever it did not like. Unhappily, I was often selected for target practice and I abhorred it.
The other whaler had managed to memorise about four bars of a Norwegian tune he had picked up from a workmate. I, in turn, committed it to memory and thereafter tried it out for identification on a succession of Norwegians, but without success. Finally, after I started to compose, I incorporated it in my tune ‘Shetland’s Voes and Gios’ without any sense of guilt. Had I not plagiarised this little phrase it might have been lost.
My father and mother were religious – sensibly, but firmly so. On Saturday, preparations for the Sabbath were routine. The livingroom floor was scrubbed and all thereon made to shine. Father’s white shirt with starched cuffs and starched collar were laundered and suspended on the pulley.
More than likely I would have been contemplating tomorrow’s obligatory mountaineering stroll to church, or perhaps thumbing through the new ‘Magnet’ to discover what the obese Billy bunter had been up to. In any case, as sure as night follows day was our departure for church the following morning.
High Principle
My mother was organist and had to be there, father, a choir member, and I sat with him. Our minister was the Rev George Brewster, a man of high principle and multiple attributes who commanded respect from all who knew him and listened to his preaching.
I gradually found myself genuinely incapable of grasping the suggested implications of original sin, virgin birth and vicarious atonement.At the same time I was imbued with the conviction that the power of reasoning was a divine gift and that it alone could resolve the internecine mental conflict of dogma versus reason which consumed me. Reason prevailed.
It became traditional that I would have something to eat on he way and before we entered church. About two-thirds along the way there was a large conoid stone with a flattened side and on it a ledge on which I could sit and eat. But above the ledge was a sharp protrusion which jutted into my back and removed any semblance of comfort. I would have been better eating on the hoof, but was single-minded and/or stubborn. This rock was thereafter known as the bread stone and I still point it out to traveling companions.
Aware in the summer of 1924 that I should be leaving home and going to school in Lerwick that year, I seem to remember accepting it as inevitable with appropriate detachment. The future was opaque. Would it possibly provide the third ecstasy?
As the future advanced in my direction, the receding past became more and more kaleidoscopic than real. It is well, therefore, to take a parting look at the old home and be reminded of those things which engender nostalgia.
I was born on the island of Bressay, from where my parents returned to the family croft in Grunafirth when I was two years old. There are a few ill-defined recollections of Bressay.
The Great War was imminent and my father more than once told me of a dream experience he had on the night prior to Britain’s declaration of war on Germany on 4th August, 1914. He did not sleep well, drifting much of the time between consciousness and unconsciousness, but all the time he appeared to hear the interminable sound of marching feet. He accepted it as a premonition of the grave tidings in store.
The school was in the next valley at Laxfirth, and it accommodated about a dozen pupils. To reach it I had to traverse two miles of rough hill ground daily. The lack of a village hall necessitated the school being used for concerts, occasional religious services etc.
Novel Items
The first concert I ever attended was in the school. My mother sang ‘The Cameron Men’ in rich contralto and a young man, Willie Hunter, played melodiously on the fiddle, More of him anon. There was also a novel item on the programme which merits special mention. When he retired a local deep sea man had acquired one of these gramophones with a large fluted horn probably the first to come into the district. He now carried it onto the stage and prepared for action; wound it up, swiveled the horn round towards the audience and laid on the first record – or was it an album? The turntable was released, the soundbox placed on the record with care and the sound emerged. The audience were entranced and while they continued to be entranced the operator assumed a statuesque-like posture on centre stage, proceeding to scrutinize the assembly with great interest. It was unforgettable.
Again in the school, a startling precognitive assertion was made at an evangelical meeting. This itinerant preacher visited the district regularly, was a good man, wore long leather leggings and was obviously ambitious. At this particular meeting I remember only one sentence towards the end of the sermon – “I’m not going to be an angel – I’m going to be an archangel.” He has never been proved wrong.
There was an indefinable quality of fiddle playing which belonged exclusively to William A. Hunter of Billister, Nesting, Shetland, a quality which set him apart from contemporaries. When I first knew Willie he was serving his apprenticeship in Lerwick as a blacksmith / farrier.
Careful Attention
As circumstances permitted he cycled home, 18 hilly miles distant, for an occasional weekend. If neighbouring crofters knew he was due home there might well be three horse waiting at his door to be shod. With never a sign of reluctance he would accept the inevitable, have a bite to eat and get on with it.
I never missed the opportunity to accompany my father when either of our horses required attention. With considerable impatience I would wait and watch while each animal received the measure of careful attention to its footwear which a ballerina might well envy.
Shoeing over, Willie’s mother would take us all in for supper – home bakes and tea before a blazing peat fire. Then always, no matter how tired, the patient, gentlemanly Willie would take down his fiddle and play. I could not know at the time that I was listening to one of the finest natural fiddlers Shetland has ever produced. He never sought the limelight and was always quite content to participate in group playing.
Completing his apprenticeship, Willie emigrated to New Zealand, leaving behind his fiancé Annie Irving of Whalsay. The evening before he left I cycled over to say goodbye, and as I did heartbreak was in the air. It was late when I left for home, a beautiful moonlight night, but I had forgotten that on the way I had to pass the cemetery at a desolate spot. My grief was forgotten as I pedalled furiously past it.
Four years later, Willie returned to Shetland, led Annie to the alter and settled down with his own smithy. They have been my life-long friends and sadly Willie is no longer with us. He was one of nature’s modest gentlemen and before he left us I composed two tunes – ‘The Modest Fiddler’ and ‘The Modest Fiddler’s Wife’.
I am so pleased I did – bless them both.
Heavy Gunfire
The Battle of Jutland was fought to its inconclusion in 1916, the news only to reach Grunafirth as it filtered through security. However, when it did, my aunt immediately associated it with heavy gunfire which had been heard to the east of Shetland about the same time. She could relate that gunfire continued well into the night and that, just in the interests of safety, she propped a pillow up in front of her face before going to sleep. ‘Protection is not a principle, but an expedient!’
A Naval Flying Boat Station was established at Catfirth, about six miles away, and I recall generous ratings sharing their ration of Fry’s Five Boys chocolate with me. They obviously did not fly without mishap, because I remember passing by Catfirth years later and observing the nose section of a flying boat in use as a shelter for ducks. It was somehow fitting that this aircraft fragment should continue to be associated with heavier than air flight. At the same time I am by no means certain that the Catfirth ducks could ever have aspired to such aeronautic distinction.
Adjoining our croft house a more recent utility annex had been built, quickly becoming an inestimable multi-purpose convenience. My mother used it for washing, my father and uncle for cutting down kail and turnips for animal food. The meal girnel stood handy inside the door. As required, my aunt could caird and spin there in comfort, always prepared to sing for me on request. Barbara Allen comes to mind.
Seclusion
It also offered a degree of seclusion indispensable for the confidential exchange of gossip, and from time to time my aunt’s favourite crony would be invited in of an evening. I always endeavoured to attend, but was not a welcome guest. These two devised a doggerel esparanto and mistakenly concluded I would not be able to understand it. But I was, and therefore had to exercise iron control of facial expressions as I listened. There were startling details of what people in our valley, and beyond, had been up to, and I quickly realised there was indeed more to life than just breathing. It need hardly be said that when I was later subjected to information regarding birds and bees I received it with silent amusement.
Sheepdog
The annex was also the home of our sheepdog, and black-and-tan endowed with the traditional Grunafirth name of Dash. In his youth there had been dogmatic (sic) assertions that he was retarded, and there was supporting evidence. Whenever experienced dogs were rounding up sheep Dash had difficulty in deciding who was, or should be, chasing who. If the proximity of sheep was ever, in his opinion, a threat to his safety he would leap into the yard and then peer anxiously over the protecting dyke. All the known stratagems for discouraging such craven behaviour were tried, plus a few incipient experiments in canine psychiatry; all to no avail until, without warning, a metamorphic change was observed to be taking place, and Dash became a sheepdog of improving competence.
Denied entry to the house at any time he did enjoy the concession of leaning his left shoulder on the door jamb and from that viewpoint observing what his betters were doing within. He could also savour the salivating odours of cooking food, but was too loyal a servant to develop any socialistic ambitions regarding his possible eligibility to share such luxury. No stranger to the immutable law of cause and effect, he well knew that if he permitted his left shoulder to edge just a little too far beyond the door’s jamb a fairly solid projectile would leave my mother’s hand and arrive in an area where his body was likely to intercept it.
Problem
In later years, when I would decide to go home for a weekend by push-bike or motor-bike, Dash would meet me on the road about a mile from home. Nobody knew I was coming. How did he?
This midsummer morning in 1924 I sat in the livingroom, conscious of familiar background noises – my mother’s morning routine. Dash leaned against the door jamb and a ray of brilliant sunlight by-passed him through the open door, revealing a dozen dust particles suspended in leisurely motion. I was dealing with a problem and the dog wore a sympathetic look as he kept me under observation.
In prospect for me was either a Further Education Course at Anderson Educational Institute, leading hopefully to university, or a three-year commercial course at Lerwick Central School leading nowhere in particular.
The decision, for some unaccountable reason, was left to me, and not for the last time in my life I chose the path of least resistance – opting for the latter. Hopefully, a path along which stumbling blocks could be transformed into stepping stones.
Whalsay
My mother, Katherine Hutchison, left her native island of Whalsay when she was appointed to teach in Laxfirth School. There she met and later married my father, John Scott Robertson. Earlier in this narrative, Laxfirth School was mentioned as the venue for occasional concerts and religious services.
Our eventual home in Grunafirth was not far away and within easy walking distance of both was Billister, the focal point for random ferry traffic to and from Whalsay. On my early holiday jaunts across the tidal sound I developed an apprehensive aversion to sailing over currugated salt water, and ever since have had a preference for unturbulence both at sea and ashore.
Magic
In the ‘20s this was a magic island, offering an optimal variety of new and exciting diversions. Sea fishing was foremost and I followed the example of all Whalsay youths and learned to swim. My Aunt Margaret, with whom I lived, was a supreme hostess and to cross her threshold was to enter an ambience of loving, cheerful concern. She had a son and two daughters, all school children. Her husband, my mother’s brother Peter, had been lost when his ship HMS Ramsay was sunk on 8th August 1915 (an armed boarding steamer, sunk by German auxiliary minelayer Meteor in North Sea). In Shetland’s ‘Roll of Honour’ I find the names of three Whalsay hutchisons who served on and went gown with the Ramsay – all related.
HUTCHISON, John, Seaman, RNR, C 2805
HUTCHISON, Peter, Seaman, RNR, B 2753
HUTCHISON, William J, Seaman, RNR, A 2519
My aunt was one of those remarkable women of that day who accepted widowhood with the same measure of courage as that required to raise a young family without a provider. Canonisation is only achieved after passing beyond the portals which separate time from eternity, but to me she epitomised saintliness and bravery in generous endowment as she accepted the mundane challenge. Once in hospital for a fairly severe operation, her morning reading was interrupted to prepare her for the operation. When she was wheeled into the theatre there was a delay and she was returned to the ward to wait. She promptly asked for her book and was able to finish her story before the operation.
The Whalsay fisherman, apart from his professional understanding of fish and fishing, was often found to be a keen and knowledgeable ornithologist. He may have sailed all over the world doing a youthful stint in the Merchant Navy, then returning home to fulfill his destiny as a family man.
An interesting recollection relates to the herring fishing fleet, at that time all under sail. The market was in Lerwick and returning from the fishing grounds north of Shetland the boats all passed through Linga Sound, close inshore. As each boat passed a prearranged observation point on Whalsay, someone would be waiting to receive a signal specifying the catch. The helmsman at the stern would take off his cap and start a backward/forward motion holding his cap above his head. Each sweep forward of the cap indicated 4 cran (16 baskets), and from this information those at home were enabled to make a rough daily estimate of income.
As I first knew Whalsay, so will I always remember it ; a tranquil moral community living close to nature and sustained by it. Avoiding invidious comparisons, if the word civilization means what I think it does, then it surely peaked on this island in the ‘20s.
Music Lovers
Fiddle playing was endemic and such players as Glybie and Gibbie o’ da Creads will long be remembered. The people wwere all music lovers and in a small shop near Cready Knowe, the shopkeeper Andrew Polson kept his fiddle ; we never failed to give it regular exercise. Music and magic all the way.
The years have passed, life’s patterns changed and my link with Whalsay increasingly tenuous. Nature has taken its toll of older friends, but with those who remain the priceless bond of friendship is unimpaired.
Magnus Gray Jnr of the whaler Diana
On 8th May, 1866, the Hull whaler Diana sailed from Lerwick bound for Davis Straits, Greenland, in search of whales and seals. The ships compliment was 51, including 26 Shetlanders. Of these, two were from Dury in the parish of North Nesting, Magnus Gray and his son Magnus, aged 16.
They entered Greenland waters on 17th May with the anticipation of hunting until early August. They would then be clearing the area in time to avoid being trapped in the ice ; but with dire consequences the Diana was trapped and thereafter she was missing until she staggered into Ronas Voe, Shetland, on 2nd April, 1867.
The crew was ravaged by starvation and scurvy ; eight corpses lay on the deck. A total of 13 died including the captain, nine of them Shetlanders, but Magnus Gray Jnr and his father survived. The details of this disastrous voyage can be found in the book ‘From the Deep of the Sea’ by the ships surgeon C. E. Smith.
As the faculty of child memory develops, visitors to the home tend to be indexed in relation to whatever brings them there. I recall with pleasure and a sense of historic privilege the appearances of our postman Magnus Gray. The ageing postman of 1920 was the quondam ship’s boy of 1866.
Boyhood Image
After an adventurous life at sea, Magnus embarked on the sea of matrimony and was married to Mary Leask, also from Dury. Some years later he moved with his family to Kirkabister four miles away, leaving his three sisters in the old home in Dury. Kirkabister is within easy access of Brettabister Post Office, which served the parish of North Nesting, including Neap, Kirkabister, Housabister, Laxfirth, Billister and Grunafirth. This was where we find Magnus in his ultimate role of crofter / postman. His delivery mileage would be 10 / 12.
I retained a vivid boyhood image of Magnus arriving with mailbag on back, supported by a strap over each shoulder. His bag was seldom empty as he could never resist a request for him to carry back parcels and letters for posing. His sisters in Dury always had a meal waiting for him before he took the road back.
Brettabister Post Office had no telephone. The nearest was at Skellister Post Office three miles to the south, so the people of Dury had the doubtful option of walking six miles to Skellister to phone for a doctor or six miles in the opposite direction to where the doctor lived at Voe. Only bad news came by telegram. Delivery was on foot by a volunteer from the Skellister area – remuneration two shillings and sixpence ; payable by the recipient.
Phenomenon
Magnus died in 1924 and was predeceased by one of the three sisters at Dury. My parents were told by the two remaining sisters that before Magnus passed on they say him or rather his feynes (a premonitive apparition), approaching the house. Such a phenomenon would be classified as supernatural – but was it? It is a reasonable postulate that everything, micro or macro, atom to constellation, physical to metaphysical, is within the control of natural law. And if this law was framed by a cosmic intelligence quite beyond our comprehension, nothing can possibly be supernatural. However, if normal is accepted as the level of our understanding then what we cannot understand must obviously be supernormal. We know what happens – we know not why.
But we do know why the good ship Diana and the ship’s boy Magnus Gray have earned honourable mention in the annals of nautical disaster.
Letters to the Editor
Sir – May I, through the courtesy of your paper, bring up points noted on my visit to the Perth Music Festival this year, which, incidentally, along with the rest of my family, was thoroughly enjoyed.
Firstly, as last year, there was an extreme lack of practice facilities for contestants before they went about their various competitions.
On enquiring about this, I was told it was all down to safety, as there was always the possibility of fire risks.
On witnessing the congestion in the main corridor linking the Lesser and Main Halls i.e. competitors instruments lying around, competitors waiting to go on stage, plus the public at large roaming around, I would ask the organising body to have a very close look at the matter.
Point 2 : The condition of the grand piano in the Main Hall. From remarks made, this instrument leaves a lot to be desired. Bands, trios etc pay for the privilege of entering their respective competitions, and a duff piano does them no favours. In fact one pianist promised to bring a mallet next time to get some response from the keyboard.
Being a musician myself and having heard the piano, I offer my heartfelt sympathy.
So come on Perth, live up to your reputation and people will still say it was a great day.
Ted Brown
Harlaw Reservoir House
Balerno
Sir – Firstly, may I apologies for the lateness of this letter in reply to letters in previous issues. This was due to me not being able to get copies until mid-October.
Never in the history of the ‘B&F’ have I read anything as hypocritical as Mr Dunbar’s letter in the September issue regarding the ADM.
As I was unable to attend I do not have first-hand knowledge of the events, so I cannot comment, but I findit hard to believe that Mr Dunbar has the cheek and nerve to quote rules and guidelines on how to conduct a meeting.
May I ask him to recall the AGM of the East Kilbride Club in 1984 and ask him to justify some of the comments and events of that meeting?
May I also express my dismay at yourself for abusing your position as Editor to make a biased political statement in your September editorial.
The ‘B&F’ is the newspaper of a social association with no political aims and therefore should not be used as a mouthpiece for political comments whether they be the view of Labour, Conservative, Liberal, SDP, SNP or even the Monster Raving Loony Parties, and judging from comments on the AGM we must surely have a few comments for the latter.
So may I appeal through the ‘B&F’ for Messrs Blue, Dunba rand other members of office in other Clubs to shut up, review their own ideas and put egos, prides and prejudices aside so we can get on with the one aim we as members of the NAAFC should all hold.
Let’s start promoting our music and leave fighting and political speeches to boxers and politicians.
Grant Crawford
East Kilbride
CLUB DIARY
Aberdeen (Dee Motel) –
Alnwick (Nag’s Head) – members only
Armadale (Masonic Arms Hotel) – 5th Dec 85 Keith Dickson SDB
Ayr (Aftongrange Hotel) –
Balloch (Griffin Hotel, Alexandria) – 17th Nov 85 Wallochmor
Banchory (Burnett Arms Hotel) –
Banff (Royal Oak Hotel) –
Beith (Anderson Hotel) –
Belford (Community Club) –
Biggar (Clydesdale Hotel) –
Bridge of Allan (Walmer Hotel) -
Buchan (Buchaness Hotel) –
Callander (Glengarry Hotel) – 12th Dec 85 Colin Dewar Trio
Campbeltown (Royal Hotel) –
Castle Douglas (Thistle Inn) –
Cleland (Dalrymple House) –
Coupar Angus (Royal Hotel) –
Crieff & District (Arduthie Hotel) –
Dalriada (Royal Hotel, Lochgilphead) –
Derwentside (Working Men’s Club, Consett) –
Dingwall (venue? ) –
Dunblane (Hydro) – 3rd Dec 85 Lothian SDB
Dundee (Queen’s Hotel, Nethergate) –
Dunfermline (Northern Roadhouse) – 3rd Dec 85 Angus Fitchet & Bobby Crowe
East Kilbride (King’s Park Hotel, Rutherglen) – 28th Nov 85 Raymond Chuchuk
Edinburgh (Abbey Suite, Abbey Lane) – 4th Dec 85 Tartan Lads
Ellon (Ladbroke Hotel) –
Falkirk (Park Hotel) –
Fintry (Clachan Hotel) –
Forres (Brig Motel) – 11th Dec 85 Inverness Fiddlers Society
Fort William (Caol Community Club) –
Galashiels (Maxwell Hotel) –
Galston (Theo’s Restaurant, Galston) –
Glendale (Black Bull Hotel – Wooler) – members only -
Gorebridge (Rangers FC Social Club) –
Highland (Drumossie Hotel) – 16th Dec 85 Dingwall Club
Islesteps (Cargenholm Hotel) –
Kelso (Ednam House Hotel) – 27th Nov 85 Jennifer Forrest SDB
Kintore (Crown Hotel) –
Langholm (Crown Hotel) –
Lesmahagow (Masonic Hall) – 12th Dec 85 Walter Beattie SDB
Livingston (Golden Hind, Blackburn) – 19th Dec 85 Wallachmor
Lockerbie (Bluebell Hotel) –
M.A.F.I.A. (Black Bull, Milngavie) –
Montrose (Park Hotel) –
Morecambe (Yorkshire Hotel, Lancaster) -
New Cumnock (Crown Hotel) –
Newtongrange (Dean Tavern) –
Newton St Boswells (Railway Hotel) –
North Cumbria (Howard Arms) (prev called Gretna Club) – 20th Nov 85 Ian Holmes / Kenny Wilson 18th Dec 85 Elmbank Sound
North East (Royal Hotel, Keith) –
Oban (Park Hotel) –
Orkney ( venue?) –
Ormiston (Miners’ Welfare Social Club) –
Peebles (Ex-Servicemen’s Club) –
Perth (Salutation Hotel) –
Premier NI (Wilson’s of Crumlin) -
Renfrew (Masonic Hall) –
Rothbury (Queen’s Head Hotel)
Shetland (venue?) -
Stranraer (Railway Club) – 3rd Dec 85 Ian Muir
Thornhill (?)
Thurso (McKay’s Hotel) –
Turriff (Royal Oak Hotel) – 5th Dec 85 Allison Bruce & Hazel Sangster
Tynedale (The Royal Hotel, Hexham) –
Walmer (Bridge of Allan) –
Wick (McKay’s Hotel) –
THERE WERE CLUB REPORTS FROM :-
1. Aberdeen
2. Banff & District
3. Callander
4. Castle Douglas
5. Crieff & District
6. Dalriada
7. Dingwall & District
8. Dunfermline & District
9. Dundee & District
10. East Kilbride
11. Forres
12. Fort William
13. Galston
14. Kelso
15. Kintore
16. Langholm
17. Lesmahagow
18. M.A.F.I.A.
19. North Cumbria
20. North East
21. Perth & District
22. Renfrew
23. Shetland
24. Stranraer
25. Thurso
CLUB DIRECTORY AS AT SEPT 1985 (Clubs didn’t necessarily notify the Assoc when they closed so the following may not be entirely correct. Only the clubs submitting the reports above were definitely open.)
1. Aberdeen A&F Club (1975)
2. Alnwick A&F Club (Sept 1976)
3. Armadale A&F Club (Oct 1978? or 80) originally called Bathgate Club (for 2 months)
4. Ayr A&F Club (Nov 1983 – per Nov 83 edition)
5. Balloch A&F Club (Sept 1972 – per January 1978 issue)
6. Banchory A&F Club (1978)
7. Banff & District A&F Club (Oct 1973)
8. Beith & District A&F Club (Sept 1972 – per first edition)
9. Belford A&F Club (joined Sept 1982)
10. Biggar A&F Club (Oct 1974)
11. Buchan A&F Club
12. Callander A&F Club (
13. Campbeltown & District A&F Club (c Dec 1980)
14. Castle Douglas A&F Club (c Sept 1980)
15. Crieff A&F Club (cSept 1981)
16. Dalriada A&F Club (Feb 1981)
17. Derwentside A&F Club
18. Dingwall & District (May 1979 – per first report)
19. Dunblane & District A&F Club (1971)
20. Dundee & District A&F Club
21. Dunfermline & District A&F Club (1974 – per first edition)
22. East Kilbride A&F Club (Sept 1980)
23. Edinburgh A&F Club (Apr 1981) prev called Chrissie Leatham A&F Club (Oct 1980)
24. Ellon A&F Club (
25. Falkirk A&F Club (Sept 1978 - )
26. Fintry A&F Club
27. Forres A&F Club (Jan 1978)
28. Fort William A&F Club (21st Oct 1980 – per Dec 1980 B&F)
29. Galashiels A&F Club (joined Sept 1982)
30. Galston A&F Club (Oct 1969 – per first edition – closed March 2006)
31. Glendale Accordion Club (Jan 1973)
32. Highland A&F Club (Inverness)
33. Islesteps A&F Club (Jan 1981)
34. Isle of Skye A&F Club (
35. Kelso A&F Club (May 1976)
36. Kintore A&F Club
37. Langholm A&F Club (Oct 1967)
38. Lesmahagow A&F Club (Nov 1979 – closed May 2005)
39. Livingston A&F Club (Sept 1973 – per first edition)
40. Lockerbie A&F Club (Nov 1973)
41. M.A.F.I.A. (early)
42. Montrose A&F Club (joined Sept 1982)
43. Newtongrange A&F Club (joined Sept 1979)
44. Newton St Boswells Accordion Club (17th Oct 1972 see Apr 1984 obituary for Angus Park)
45. North Cumbria A&F Club (originally Gretna started June 1966 – had to move to a venue in the North of England and changed name – eventually changed back when they returned to the Halcrow Stadium. No breaks in the continuity of the Club)
46. North East A&F Club aka Keith A&FC (Sept 1971)
47. Oban A&F Club (Nov 1975)
48. Orkney A&F Club (Mar 1978)
49. Ormiston Miners’ Welfare Society A&F Club
50. Peebles A&F Club (26 Nov 1981)
51. Perth & District A&F Club (Aug 1970)
52. Premier A&F Club NI (cNov 1980)
53. Rothbury Accordion Club (1987??)
54. Shetland A&F Club (Sept 1978)
55. Stranraer & District Accordion Club (1974 – per first edition)
56. Sutherland A&F Club (
57. Thornhill A&F Club (joined Oct 1983 – see Nov 83 edition)
58. Thurso A&F Club (cSept 1981)
59. Turriff A&F Club (March 1982)
60. Tynedale A&F Club (Nov 1980)
61. Wick A&F Club (Oct 1975)
Not on official list at the start of the season (closed, did not renew membership or omitted in error?)
62. Bonchester Accordion Club (Closed?)
63. Bridge of Allan (Walmer) A&F Club (Walmer Hotel, Bridge of Allan) (c March 1982)
64. Cleland (cNov 1981 – March 1985) originally called Drumpellier A&F Club (for 2 months)
65. Club Accord
66. Coquetdale A&F Club (Feb 1974 or c1976/77 – 1981/2?)
67. Coupar Angus A&F Club (cSept 1978 - ?)
68. Cumnock A&F Club (October 1976 - forced to close cDec 1982 - see Jan 83 Editorial)
69. Denny & Dunipace A&F Club (Feb 1981)
70. Dornoch
71. Dumfries Accordion Club (Oughtons) (April 1965 at the Hole in the Wa’)
72. Dunbar Cement Works A&F Club (Closed?)
73. Gorebridge (cNov 1981) originally called Arniston A&F Club (for 2 months)
74. Gretna A&F Club (June 1966)
75. Greenhead Accordion Club (on the A69 between Brampton and Haltwistle)
76. Kinlochsheil A&F Club (
77. Kirriemuir A&F Club (cSept 1981)
78. Monklands A&F Club (Nov 1978 – closed cApril 1983)
79. Morecambe A&F Club (joined Sept 1982)
80. Newcastleton Accordion Club
81. New Cumnock A&F Club (cMarch 1979)
82. Renfrew A&F Club (original club 1974/5 lapsed after a few years then again in 1984)
83. Straiton Accordion Club (c1968 – closed March 1979)
84. Torthorwald A&F Club (near Dumfries)
85. Wellbank A&F Club
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Quarter Page - £23
B&F Treasurer – Mrs Cathy Andrew, 22 Lochinver Crescent, Foxbar, Paisley Tele 2824
The main features in the above issue were as follows (this is not a comprehensive detail of all it contained. The Club reports, in particular, are too time consuming at this stage to retype).
Editorial
I know that it was passed at the AGM that the publication date was to be the first of the month, but, so far it has just not been possible.
As there were only about half the Clubs represented at the AGM, the other half have been slow to respond. However the message is getting through now and we will still try and get near the new publication date.
Reports gleaned from various sources go towards an increase again in support at Club level and that is good news. Some are still finding the going rough and no doubt they will be digging in and holding on.
No more letters will be printed re the AGM. It is time to call a halt.
Brilliant Festival at Perth
by Ian Smith
Bill Wilkie certainly pulled out all the stops for his 1985 Festival Concert. Early in his career, Bill toured the Continent and the Far East in shows with Peter Sellers and like artistes, and the experience shows, both in his production and ease of performance on stage.
The balance of the show was perfect as it sped along and, of course, the ingredients absolutely right for the Scottish audience, with Ian Powrie and his old friends Jimmy and Joan Blue, Mickey Ainsworth, Dave Barclay, Jack Cooper and young Duncan Black.
What a performance they gave us and as it said in the programme it was ‘simply the most wonderful sound in Scottish music’. Before they finished they had the crowd clapping, stamping and calling for more.
This year, Bill deviated from his custom of presenting a Continental artiste and instead featured one of Scotland’s own professionals, Jimmy Cassidy, who dazzled the audience with the sheer brilliance of his performance. No electronic gimmicks here, just an ordinary accordion and Jimmy Cassidy ably accompanied by Blanche McInnes (piano), Ken Black (bass) and Dave Blyth (drums). It is not surprising that Jimmy Cassidy is experiencing meteoric success in his professional career.
Jimmy hails from Milnathort and, of course, received his accordion training from the wee man himself. As a student Jimmy was a consistent winner at the Perth Festival. He was the Junior Scottish Solo Accordion Champion (Trad) for three consecutive years, then went on to win second place in the Senior Scottish then at the age of 16 became the All-Scotland Accordion Champion.
The variety artistes (which are necessary for a good balance) took up little more than 30 minutes of this mammoth show. Tops in their own particular sphere they included George Duffus, funny as ever, John Scrimger, Perth Theatre’s accomplished musical director with the lovely singer Helen Goodison and the popular Maggie Firth dancers. The rest was all accordion spiced as it was with a delicate sprinkling of beautiful fiddle music.
The atmosphere was tense and the standard very high for the finals of the All Scotland Accordion Solo (Trad) Championship. Jimmy Blue was the adjudicator, but, of course, everyone adjudicates the great contest in their own mind and I’m sure most would agree that we have a worthy winner in Neil Caul from Kirriemuir.
Special mention must be made of Blanche McInnes, a talented and accomplished musician if ever there was one. Her excellent work as accompanist is always noticeable and on this occasion her backing of Jimmy Cassidy was demanding and flawless and with only the briefest rehearsal. Bass player Ken Black and drummer Dave Blyth also gave a remarkable performance.
With seven halls running from 9am, nine adjudicators, hundreds of competitors and a huge and highly proficient staff and everything going like clockwork, ‘Scotland’s Greatest accordion Event’ seemed to be a pretty true statement.
Senior Scottish Traditional
1) Neil Caul
2) Graham Jeffrey
3) Mark Anderson
Senior Scottish Pipe Music
1) Elizabeth Steven (Caithness)
2) Alan Morrison
3) Michael Philip
Junior Scottish Traditional
1) James Coutts
2) Alan Gardiner
3) Lynn Gould
Junior Solo Pipe Music
1) James Coutts
2) Alistair McLeod
3) Lynn Gould
Senior Ladies Scottish Trad
1) Karen Leitch
2) Jennifer Forrest
3) Dianne Armstrong
Junior Girls
1) Lynn Gould
2) Yvonne Kirk
3) Laura Martin
Own Composition
1) Michael Philip
2) Neil Caul
3) Brian Morrison
Trios
1) Neil Copland (Dundee)
2) Elizabeth Steven
3) Jennifer Forrest
Scottish Country Dance Band
1) Karen Higgins
2) Karen Leitch
3) Jennifer Forrest
Junior Fiddle
1) Paul Anderson
2) Rebecca Hunter
3) Allison Dewar
Senior Fiddle
1) Joan R. McLauchlan
1) Duncan W. Chisholm
3) Inga Scott
CLASSICAL
7 Years and Under
1) Ross Irvine
2=) Iain Anderson & Mhairi Smith
4) George F. Napier
9 Years and Under
1) Liam Smith
2) Donna Muir
3) Mhairi Coutts
11 Years and Under
1) Wayne Robertson
2) Scott Jarvis
3) D. A. Banford
13 Years and Under
1) Angeline J. McCloy
2) Russell Torrie
3) Leslie Gibb
Area Junior Championship
1) Craig Drysdale
2) Gordon Haddow
3) Fiona C Kenneth
Preparatory Solo
1) Colin McNeill
2) Scott Anderson
3) Stuart Holmes
Elementary Solo
1) Fiona Linton
2) Eleanor Barr
3) Angela Taylor
Intermediate Solo
1)
2)
3)
Higher Intermediate Solo
1) Craig Nicoll
2) Andrew Thomson
3) Kenneth Turley
Open Solo
1) David Preston
2) James Grant
3) Alan Preston (Shotts)
Area Advanced Championship
1) Nicola Reid
2) Michael Paton
Entertainment
1) Clyde Valley Keyboards
2) David Martin
3) Pamela Mutch
Preparatory Duet
1) Donna Muir & Lillian Campbell
2) Rhona & Ross Irvine
3) C. McNeill & Lesley Morrison
Elementary Duet
1) Russell & Lindsay Torrie
2) Alan Locke & Campbell Love
3) J. Armstrong & Leslie Baird
Intermediate Duet
1) Ian Stewart & Kenneth Turley
2) Stewart Law & Angeline McCloy
3) Susan Brown & Iain Newton
Higher Intermediate Duet
1) Gordon Haddow & Craig Drysdale
2) Graham & Lorna Jeffrey
3) Alisdair Mathiesion & W. Sweeney
Advanced Duet
1) David & Alan Preston
2) James Grant & Scott Leslie
3) Norma & Linda Frater
Preparatory Band
1) J. R. Brown Prep Band (Wishaw)
2) Bill Smith Junior Band
Elementary Band
1) Lola Blair Boys’ Band (Glasgow)
2) J. R. Brown Elementary Band (Wishaw)
Intermediate Band
1) Fife Accordion Band
2) Dundee Accordion Band
3) Gillespie Accordion Band
Advanced Band
1) J. Blair Advanced Band
2) J. R. Brown Advanced Band
Group Section
1) Dundee Accordion Band
2) Fife Accordion Group
3) Second Dundee Quartet
Bell Trophy Championship
1) Gordon Stewart (Kirkcaldy)
2) Iain Wood
Graham Geddes
by Jimmy Clinkscale
Aberdeen bandleader Graham Geddes seems to have been around the Scottish danceband scene for so long that it is difficult to appreciate that he is still only 24. In this profile Jimmy Clinlscale, of the Clinkscale Music Centre, Aberdeen, takes an in-depth look at the man and his music.
Graham Geddes rates his father Wattie and his mother Ina as having the biggest influence on his career, and Ina certainly must get the credit for pointing him the way of the accordion.
Graham recalls amusedly, “I was nine at the time, and my sister Rosemary had tried the piano, but was reluctant to cross Dyce every time she had a lesson. So my mother told me ‘If you want to learn an instrument, it must be something that can be thrown under the bed, as I don’t want to clutter up the room’.”
As a reward for having his tonsils out, Aberdeen musical enthusiast Tony Barron bought the youngster a 50p cardboard accordion, and a new young Scottish star was born.
Lessons from Mrs Willis Garrard and Pete Farnan led to Graham becoming a bandleader by the age of 14.
Says broadcaster Robbie Shepherd, who has helped Graham along the way “He came through the ranks as they say, and now has to his credit a most impressive list of awards to prove his ability, not only as a solo artiste, but with trios, bands, aye, and even hos own compositions, winning most of the premier awards in the Scottish traditional accordion music circles.
“As a bandleader, he’s the ‘boss’ – choosing musicians and adapting their talents to suit his own style of playing.”
None of the tall, slim, fair-haired young bandleader’s family had any real musical talents, but Graham quickly changed that. He won his first trophy in 1973, was North of Scotland Champion in 1976, won at Aberdeen Festival the same year, and triumphed at the North-East Festival at Keith two years in succession. He also won the piping section and trio section at Musselburgh.
Now ten years a bandleader, his talents have taken him to Cairo, where he played at a St Andrew’s Night at the British Embassy; a tour of France; and countless gigs at top venues from the Shetlands to south of the border.
Only recently he was playing in Canada where he was offered a full-time job by bobby Brown.
“Although I am heavily committed for 1986, I am still seriously considering Bobby’s offer. I am young, free and single with no real ties, so I may well take up that offer next year. But an engagement in Vancouver is very much on the cars next year anyway.”
Although Graham emphasises that he leads what is still very much a Scottish dance band, at many engagements, and particularly in Aberdeen, his line-up is very much a ‘showband’.
The current line-up is his right-hand man, Fife-born David Little (piano), Shetlander Tommy Sutherland (drums/clarinet), John Anderson (vocals), Pamela Murray (double bass) and Doug Mills (jazz violin) all from Aberdeen with Hebbie Gray frequently guesting on fiddle. “I am very fortunate to have Hebbie Gray to assist me,” points out Graham.
With Graham now singing (he took a Diploma from Trinity College in an external examination) and also playing electric keyboards, the band has a great degree of flexibility.
“I don’t have a second box as I wish to achieve an individualistic sound, which I think I have succeeded in. My main worry, like all bandleaders, is keeping the band together. Although I began by playing a Hohner Atlantic IV, I now have two Victorias which I think are ideal for all types of playing”.
A prolific writer with more that 30 compositions, he has now produced his fifth album – “At Home with Graham Geddes” – and is hoping to publish a book of songs.
He has been bandleader and arranger for four of Ross Records ‘Auld Meal Mill’ albums, acted in the same capacity on a John Mearns solo album, and cut a single with Robbie Shepherd ‘Up the Dons’ to mark Aberdeen FC’s recent soccer triumphs at home and abroad.
He has featured extensively on radio; appeared in two Grampian TV series; and has done many ‘Accordion Bonanzas’ all over Scotland.
A recent spot on ‘Take the Floor’ from Keith produced a flood of congratulatory letters – including one from Dublin piper and pipes manufacturer Leon Rewsone, who was extensive in his praise of the band’s calibre.
One of the band’s most unusual and deeply satisfying TV appearances was a live network Hogmanay show for the deaf – filmed in Aberdeen. And the band have also played for the deaf at Aberdeen Beach Ballroom.
Graham explained that hearing people help their deaf counterparts by miming the dance, and the vibrations from the floor assist in assessing the beat. “We really got a great deal of satisfaction out of doing these performances” says Graham.
Although he rates the TV appearances as the highspot of his career to date, he is very enthusiastic about the regular Saturday nights at Aberdeen’s Beach Ballroom which attracts more than 600 folk. The band also play at civic receptions there.
As a traffic supervisor with Servisair at Aberdeen Airport – not far from his Dyce home – he is used to starting work at 5am and then often not getting to his bed until 2am the next morning after driving home through the night in the band’s Toyota van from far-flung engagements.
He has a soft spot for Shetland and will be returning in January to feature in Jimmy Burgess’s squad for Up-Helly-Aa – having been personal musician to Jimmy for his Guiser Jarl role.
For relaxation, he turns to private flying (he had already completed three hours solo flying) and songwriting. Although he enjoys an occasional lager, neither he nor his band ever drink alcohol while working.
“The regular order is always five cokes,” laughs Graham. “I firmly believe that drink and work don’t mix, and people respect you for adopting that attitude. Mind you we all eat like horses.”
Graham’s own favourite player is Irish accordionist Dermot O’Brien, who now lives in the USA, and will be appearing at the ‘Auld Meal Mill’ again next year.
Among the people he would like to pay tribute for their help to him over the years were the late Bill Spence, who gave him many books for his music collection, and the late Ronnie Cooper.
“Ronnie was a man and a musician I much admired. He wasn’t a man prone to giving presents, but I remember leaving Shetland on the St. Clair, and Ronnie pressing a box into my hand. It contained a Norseman’s tie-pin which I much treasure. It was a very touching moment.”
Although his hobby is flying, Graham Geddes has his feet very firmly on the ground. He has no immediate plans for marriage – “my musical career is the thing that counts just now” – and it may well be that he will be lured to the great professional music opportunities in Canada.
Meanwhile, his playing talents, bandleader-arranger attributes, and disciplined professionalism makes this personable North-East young lad a potent force on the Scottish band scene. Just keep the tunes coming Graham!
Reflections of a Scottish Fiddler
By Arthur Scott Robertson
The war to end all wars had ended itself on 11th November, 1918, and I, at the age of seven, found myself with rather confused tangential recollections of pervading sadness and gloom; of a nation fighting for freedom and at the same time denying it to those summoned to fight.
Some returned, but so many did not. Our croft was in the valley of Grunafirth, from which it in turn took its name, and lay 18 miles north of the town of Lerwick.
A house of four rooms provided adequate accommodation for the family, and careful husbandry ensured a healthy subsistence level. In the ben, or best ,room was a piano and suspended on the wall a fiddle. My father was the fiddler, my mother pianist and church organist, but both instruments had remained mute during the years of international conflict and anguish.
Ecstasy
A time, however, had to come when music would serve as a palliative to melancholy, and only then was I introduced to the magic of instrumental harmony. Transported, this, my very first ecstasy lives with me to this day.
The need for a fiddle for me was immediate and I was spared a lengthy wait; but I have no recollection of ever of ever using a half- or three-quarters size instruments.
Until I went to school in Lerwick I played mostly by ear for probably three years, and during that time came under the influence of Willie Hunter of Billister, a fiddler of great ability and greater modesty. He was the first of those talented musicians who, all my life, appear to have been waiting in the wings, ready to advise and assist me. In due course I shall pay grateful tribute.
It was inevitable that over the years I should by observing, listening, trial and error, reach firm conclusions on how to play and interpret Scottish fiddle music. These I hope to impart in due course, without tutorial intent. I have to declare an aversion to dogma and bigotry. Jocosely the two ugly sisters of music, in culinary allegory they may be referred to as the diet of cultural constipation!
1920-24
After resisting the idea for years I finally accede to the encouragement of attentive friends who feel I should express myself on the subjects of fiddle playing and life. Living is easy – you’ve only got to breathe, but fiddle playing is infinitely more difficult. It is an art offering little reward apart from the satisfaction of personal achievement.
My prime intention is to produce a light-hearted portrayal of how I adjusted and thereafter re-adjusted along life’s kharmic groove, interpolating casual fiddle playing wherever it fitted best. There was no incentive until……..but that comes later. I shall be ambitiously anecdotal, objective, reasonably chronological and hopefully interesting.
Amused
Glancing at what others do I am amused to discover that an increasing number of people appear to have forgotten their birth date. ‘Born at an early age’ is a jestful legend, but when the laughter subsides no date is volunteered. It is safe to say that men are more guilty than women, but then they usually are, aren’t they? If a fiddler claims that he started to play at an early age the cynic would probably ask why? But more seriously I believe we all have asked ourselves the question as discouraging situations arose, but then just resolutely carried on.
Let me now be retrospective and revert to the period 1920-24. An only son in an isolated crafting environment, my attitude to it was polarised in a distaste for the bucolic life and predilection for fiddle playing. In later life I never miss the opportunity of a holiday in the country. Particularly unpopular were the daily long walks with father over the hill pasture during the lambing season, but one day he told me an interesting story.
Pointing to a spot not far away he informed me it was known as Mary Morrison’s grave. Before his day and before roads were made this poor old woman had died on her way home from a distant village. Not unusually, a rough coffin was constructed from the tarred timber of an old boat and Mary was buried where she died, in an unconsecrated, unmarked grave. We walked over to where there appeared to be a slight depression in the ground. Father pushed his staff about three feet into the soil and made positive contact with the wooden coffin. It had been perfectly preserved in the moor, but when the staff was withdrawn, gasses were released which made us move quickly up wind.
Twelve dwelling houses nestled in Grunafirth Valley and in only two was the fiddle to be found – our house and that of my uncle. They were conveniently juxtaposed and gave shelter to Grunafirth’s only three fiddlers – my father, my uncle and just qualifying for mention – me.
Indispensable for dancing in Shetland, as elsewhere, the fiddler was a man of considerable importance. But in a more general context people listened appreciatively to fiddle music and each district gave chauvinistic support to their local favourite. My parents used to pass on to me the names of these dilettantes with respectful comment.
Friendly Fiddler
About 15 years ago, my wife Nelly, son Neil and I were spending a short holiday in the country. A friendly fiddler who lived nearby used to call occasionally for a chat, a tune, a dram or preferably all three. Recalling that fiddler X of earlier repute had lived in the vicinity I inquired of my friend if he had known or known of him.
Oh yes, as a young man he had known X – a very good player, but he always had some difficulty with ‘The De’il Among the Taylors’. Thereafter, any confidence I may have had in hearsay evaporated.
In the early ‘20s a neighbour working in Edinburgh came home on holiday and brought with her an HMV photograph. It bore a label depicting a dog peering into the horn and used barrel records. Invited to come and listen I was thus introduced to the playing of James Scott Skinner and experienced my second ecstasy. It was inconceivable to me that a fiddle could be manipulated to produce such magic and from that day I have held the conviction that Scottish traditional fiddle music is unmatched by any other. The permutations of bowing and fingering are unlimited and to this day fall far short in exhaustive exploration.
Christened James Skinner, he paid homage to a favourite dancing master, William Scott, by adopting his surname as a middle name. Eventually he was more familiarly referred to as Scott Skinner.
He started to play the fiddle about 1850 at the age of seven, and in 1852 came under the influence of Peter Milne of Tarland, who inculcated in his the distinctive characteristics of Scottish idiom. Later he was to emerge as a dancing master. In 1855 he enlisted in Dr Mark’s celebrated troup of ‘Little Men’, at that time performing in Aberdeen.
He moved with them to their headquarters in Manchester, there to start a six years’ course which he did not complete. However, he had the good fortune to meet Charles Rougier, and under his tuition studied Kreutzer, a French violinist of considerable stature.
Prolific Composer
To this, Skinner attributes his significant progress in both classical and traditional music. A prolific composer and outstanding player, he imparted original ideas and renewed vigour to a rather ailing tradition. Undoubtedly, our leading composer I rather feel he permitted himself to compose too many tunes, consequently many below his optimum. Those who claim to play in his style are simply only playing his compositions. His style was as singular as his temperament, but there are 100 other ways to demonstrate individualism.
Shetland has always depended on the sea as the provider of both food and subsidy. Local fishing activity apart, many of the male population had to join the Merchant Navy or settle for other nautical employment. In the ‘20s some were attracted to whaling in the Antarctic, enlisting with Salvasen of Leith on seasonal engagements. South Georgia was the base, working with Norwegian crews.
Return
One year, two young men from Grunafirth were recruited and missing their company, I looked forward to their return with anticipation. One arrived with a small, rather unpredictable monkey he had acquired in South America. It had an obscene habit of excreting in its hand and then throwing the product at whoever it did not like. Unhappily, I was often selected for target practice and I abhorred it.
The other whaler had managed to memorise about four bars of a Norwegian tune he had picked up from a workmate. I, in turn, committed it to memory and thereafter tried it out for identification on a succession of Norwegians, but without success. Finally, after I started to compose, I incorporated it in my tune ‘Shetland’s Voes and Gios’ without any sense of guilt. Had I not plagiarised this little phrase it might have been lost.
My father and mother were religious – sensibly, but firmly so. On Saturday, preparations for the Sabbath were routine. The livingroom floor was scrubbed and all thereon made to shine. Father’s white shirt with starched cuffs and starched collar were laundered and suspended on the pulley.
More than likely I would have been contemplating tomorrow’s obligatory mountaineering stroll to church, or perhaps thumbing through the new ‘Magnet’ to discover what the obese Billy bunter had been up to. In any case, as sure as night follows day was our departure for church the following morning.
High Principle
My mother was organist and had to be there, father, a choir member, and I sat with him. Our minister was the Rev George Brewster, a man of high principle and multiple attributes who commanded respect from all who knew him and listened to his preaching.
I gradually found myself genuinely incapable of grasping the suggested implications of original sin, virgin birth and vicarious atonement.At the same time I was imbued with the conviction that the power of reasoning was a divine gift and that it alone could resolve the internecine mental conflict of dogma versus reason which consumed me. Reason prevailed.
It became traditional that I would have something to eat on he way and before we entered church. About two-thirds along the way there was a large conoid stone with a flattened side and on it a ledge on which I could sit and eat. But above the ledge was a sharp protrusion which jutted into my back and removed any semblance of comfort. I would have been better eating on the hoof, but was single-minded and/or stubborn. This rock was thereafter known as the bread stone and I still point it out to traveling companions.
Aware in the summer of 1924 that I should be leaving home and going to school in Lerwick that year, I seem to remember accepting it as inevitable with appropriate detachment. The future was opaque. Would it possibly provide the third ecstasy?
As the future advanced in my direction, the receding past became more and more kaleidoscopic than real. It is well, therefore, to take a parting look at the old home and be reminded of those things which engender nostalgia.
I was born on the island of Bressay, from where my parents returned to the family croft in Grunafirth when I was two years old. There are a few ill-defined recollections of Bressay.
The Great War was imminent and my father more than once told me of a dream experience he had on the night prior to Britain’s declaration of war on Germany on 4th August, 1914. He did not sleep well, drifting much of the time between consciousness and unconsciousness, but all the time he appeared to hear the interminable sound of marching feet. He accepted it as a premonition of the grave tidings in store.
The school was in the next valley at Laxfirth, and it accommodated about a dozen pupils. To reach it I had to traverse two miles of rough hill ground daily. The lack of a village hall necessitated the school being used for concerts, occasional religious services etc.
Novel Items
The first concert I ever attended was in the school. My mother sang ‘The Cameron Men’ in rich contralto and a young man, Willie Hunter, played melodiously on the fiddle, More of him anon. There was also a novel item on the programme which merits special mention. When he retired a local deep sea man had acquired one of these gramophones with a large fluted horn probably the first to come into the district. He now carried it onto the stage and prepared for action; wound it up, swiveled the horn round towards the audience and laid on the first record – or was it an album? The turntable was released, the soundbox placed on the record with care and the sound emerged. The audience were entranced and while they continued to be entranced the operator assumed a statuesque-like posture on centre stage, proceeding to scrutinize the assembly with great interest. It was unforgettable.
Again in the school, a startling precognitive assertion was made at an evangelical meeting. This itinerant preacher visited the district regularly, was a good man, wore long leather leggings and was obviously ambitious. At this particular meeting I remember only one sentence towards the end of the sermon – “I’m not going to be an angel – I’m going to be an archangel.” He has never been proved wrong.
There was an indefinable quality of fiddle playing which belonged exclusively to William A. Hunter of Billister, Nesting, Shetland, a quality which set him apart from contemporaries. When I first knew Willie he was serving his apprenticeship in Lerwick as a blacksmith / farrier.
Careful Attention
As circumstances permitted he cycled home, 18 hilly miles distant, for an occasional weekend. If neighbouring crofters knew he was due home there might well be three horse waiting at his door to be shod. With never a sign of reluctance he would accept the inevitable, have a bite to eat and get on with it.
I never missed the opportunity to accompany my father when either of our horses required attention. With considerable impatience I would wait and watch while each animal received the measure of careful attention to its footwear which a ballerina might well envy.
Shoeing over, Willie’s mother would take us all in for supper – home bakes and tea before a blazing peat fire. Then always, no matter how tired, the patient, gentlemanly Willie would take down his fiddle and play. I could not know at the time that I was listening to one of the finest natural fiddlers Shetland has ever produced. He never sought the limelight and was always quite content to participate in group playing.
Completing his apprenticeship, Willie emigrated to New Zealand, leaving behind his fiancé Annie Irving of Whalsay. The evening before he left I cycled over to say goodbye, and as I did heartbreak was in the air. It was late when I left for home, a beautiful moonlight night, but I had forgotten that on the way I had to pass the cemetery at a desolate spot. My grief was forgotten as I pedalled furiously past it.
Four years later, Willie returned to Shetland, led Annie to the alter and settled down with his own smithy. They have been my life-long friends and sadly Willie is no longer with us. He was one of nature’s modest gentlemen and before he left us I composed two tunes – ‘The Modest Fiddler’ and ‘The Modest Fiddler’s Wife’.
I am so pleased I did – bless them both.
Heavy Gunfire
The Battle of Jutland was fought to its inconclusion in 1916, the news only to reach Grunafirth as it filtered through security. However, when it did, my aunt immediately associated it with heavy gunfire which had been heard to the east of Shetland about the same time. She could relate that gunfire continued well into the night and that, just in the interests of safety, she propped a pillow up in front of her face before going to sleep. ‘Protection is not a principle, but an expedient!’
A Naval Flying Boat Station was established at Catfirth, about six miles away, and I recall generous ratings sharing their ration of Fry’s Five Boys chocolate with me. They obviously did not fly without mishap, because I remember passing by Catfirth years later and observing the nose section of a flying boat in use as a shelter for ducks. It was somehow fitting that this aircraft fragment should continue to be associated with heavier than air flight. At the same time I am by no means certain that the Catfirth ducks could ever have aspired to such aeronautic distinction.
Adjoining our croft house a more recent utility annex had been built, quickly becoming an inestimable multi-purpose convenience. My mother used it for washing, my father and uncle for cutting down kail and turnips for animal food. The meal girnel stood handy inside the door. As required, my aunt could caird and spin there in comfort, always prepared to sing for me on request. Barbara Allen comes to mind.
Seclusion
It also offered a degree of seclusion indispensable for the confidential exchange of gossip, and from time to time my aunt’s favourite crony would be invited in of an evening. I always endeavoured to attend, but was not a welcome guest. These two devised a doggerel esparanto and mistakenly concluded I would not be able to understand it. But I was, and therefore had to exercise iron control of facial expressions as I listened. There were startling details of what people in our valley, and beyond, had been up to, and I quickly realised there was indeed more to life than just breathing. It need hardly be said that when I was later subjected to information regarding birds and bees I received it with silent amusement.
Sheepdog
The annex was also the home of our sheepdog, and black-and-tan endowed with the traditional Grunafirth name of Dash. In his youth there had been dogmatic (sic) assertions that he was retarded, and there was supporting evidence. Whenever experienced dogs were rounding up sheep Dash had difficulty in deciding who was, or should be, chasing who. If the proximity of sheep was ever, in his opinion, a threat to his safety he would leap into the yard and then peer anxiously over the protecting dyke. All the known stratagems for discouraging such craven behaviour were tried, plus a few incipient experiments in canine psychiatry; all to no avail until, without warning, a metamorphic change was observed to be taking place, and Dash became a sheepdog of improving competence.
Denied entry to the house at any time he did enjoy the concession of leaning his left shoulder on the door jamb and from that viewpoint observing what his betters were doing within. He could also savour the salivating odours of cooking food, but was too loyal a servant to develop any socialistic ambitions regarding his possible eligibility to share such luxury. No stranger to the immutable law of cause and effect, he well knew that if he permitted his left shoulder to edge just a little too far beyond the door’s jamb a fairly solid projectile would leave my mother’s hand and arrive in an area where his body was likely to intercept it.
Problem
In later years, when I would decide to go home for a weekend by push-bike or motor-bike, Dash would meet me on the road about a mile from home. Nobody knew I was coming. How did he?
This midsummer morning in 1924 I sat in the livingroom, conscious of familiar background noises – my mother’s morning routine. Dash leaned against the door jamb and a ray of brilliant sunlight by-passed him through the open door, revealing a dozen dust particles suspended in leisurely motion. I was dealing with a problem and the dog wore a sympathetic look as he kept me under observation.
In prospect for me was either a Further Education Course at Anderson Educational Institute, leading hopefully to university, or a three-year commercial course at Lerwick Central School leading nowhere in particular.
The decision, for some unaccountable reason, was left to me, and not for the last time in my life I chose the path of least resistance – opting for the latter. Hopefully, a path along which stumbling blocks could be transformed into stepping stones.
Whalsay
My mother, Katherine Hutchison, left her native island of Whalsay when she was appointed to teach in Laxfirth School. There she met and later married my father, John Scott Robertson. Earlier in this narrative, Laxfirth School was mentioned as the venue for occasional concerts and religious services.
Our eventual home in Grunafirth was not far away and within easy walking distance of both was Billister, the focal point for random ferry traffic to and from Whalsay. On my early holiday jaunts across the tidal sound I developed an apprehensive aversion to sailing over currugated salt water, and ever since have had a preference for unturbulence both at sea and ashore.
Magic
In the ‘20s this was a magic island, offering an optimal variety of new and exciting diversions. Sea fishing was foremost and I followed the example of all Whalsay youths and learned to swim. My Aunt Margaret, with whom I lived, was a supreme hostess and to cross her threshold was to enter an ambience of loving, cheerful concern. She had a son and two daughters, all school children. Her husband, my mother’s brother Peter, had been lost when his ship HMS Ramsay was sunk on 8th August 1915 (an armed boarding steamer, sunk by German auxiliary minelayer Meteor in North Sea). In Shetland’s ‘Roll of Honour’ I find the names of three Whalsay hutchisons who served on and went gown with the Ramsay – all related.
HUTCHISON, John, Seaman, RNR, C 2805
HUTCHISON, Peter, Seaman, RNR, B 2753
HUTCHISON, William J, Seaman, RNR, A 2519
My aunt was one of those remarkable women of that day who accepted widowhood with the same measure of courage as that required to raise a young family without a provider. Canonisation is only achieved after passing beyond the portals which separate time from eternity, but to me she epitomised saintliness and bravery in generous endowment as she accepted the mundane challenge. Once in hospital for a fairly severe operation, her morning reading was interrupted to prepare her for the operation. When she was wheeled into the theatre there was a delay and she was returned to the ward to wait. She promptly asked for her book and was able to finish her story before the operation.
The Whalsay fisherman, apart from his professional understanding of fish and fishing, was often found to be a keen and knowledgeable ornithologist. He may have sailed all over the world doing a youthful stint in the Merchant Navy, then returning home to fulfill his destiny as a family man.
An interesting recollection relates to the herring fishing fleet, at that time all under sail. The market was in Lerwick and returning from the fishing grounds north of Shetland the boats all passed through Linga Sound, close inshore. As each boat passed a prearranged observation point on Whalsay, someone would be waiting to receive a signal specifying the catch. The helmsman at the stern would take off his cap and start a backward/forward motion holding his cap above his head. Each sweep forward of the cap indicated 4 cran (16 baskets), and from this information those at home were enabled to make a rough daily estimate of income.
As I first knew Whalsay, so will I always remember it ; a tranquil moral community living close to nature and sustained by it. Avoiding invidious comparisons, if the word civilization means what I think it does, then it surely peaked on this island in the ‘20s.
Music Lovers
Fiddle playing was endemic and such players as Glybie and Gibbie o’ da Creads will long be remembered. The people wwere all music lovers and in a small shop near Cready Knowe, the shopkeeper Andrew Polson kept his fiddle ; we never failed to give it regular exercise. Music and magic all the way.
The years have passed, life’s patterns changed and my link with Whalsay increasingly tenuous. Nature has taken its toll of older friends, but with those who remain the priceless bond of friendship is unimpaired.
Magnus Gray Jnr of the whaler Diana
On 8th May, 1866, the Hull whaler Diana sailed from Lerwick bound for Davis Straits, Greenland, in search of whales and seals. The ships compliment was 51, including 26 Shetlanders. Of these, two were from Dury in the parish of North Nesting, Magnus Gray and his son Magnus, aged 16.
They entered Greenland waters on 17th May with the anticipation of hunting until early August. They would then be clearing the area in time to avoid being trapped in the ice ; but with dire consequences the Diana was trapped and thereafter she was missing until she staggered into Ronas Voe, Shetland, on 2nd April, 1867.
The crew was ravaged by starvation and scurvy ; eight corpses lay on the deck. A total of 13 died including the captain, nine of them Shetlanders, but Magnus Gray Jnr and his father survived. The details of this disastrous voyage can be found in the book ‘From the Deep of the Sea’ by the ships surgeon C. E. Smith.
As the faculty of child memory develops, visitors to the home tend to be indexed in relation to whatever brings them there. I recall with pleasure and a sense of historic privilege the appearances of our postman Magnus Gray. The ageing postman of 1920 was the quondam ship’s boy of 1866.
Boyhood Image
After an adventurous life at sea, Magnus embarked on the sea of matrimony and was married to Mary Leask, also from Dury. Some years later he moved with his family to Kirkabister four miles away, leaving his three sisters in the old home in Dury. Kirkabister is within easy access of Brettabister Post Office, which served the parish of North Nesting, including Neap, Kirkabister, Housabister, Laxfirth, Billister and Grunafirth. This was where we find Magnus in his ultimate role of crofter / postman. His delivery mileage would be 10 / 12.
I retained a vivid boyhood image of Magnus arriving with mailbag on back, supported by a strap over each shoulder. His bag was seldom empty as he could never resist a request for him to carry back parcels and letters for posing. His sisters in Dury always had a meal waiting for him before he took the road back.
Brettabister Post Office had no telephone. The nearest was at Skellister Post Office three miles to the south, so the people of Dury had the doubtful option of walking six miles to Skellister to phone for a doctor or six miles in the opposite direction to where the doctor lived at Voe. Only bad news came by telegram. Delivery was on foot by a volunteer from the Skellister area – remuneration two shillings and sixpence ; payable by the recipient.
Phenomenon
Magnus died in 1924 and was predeceased by one of the three sisters at Dury. My parents were told by the two remaining sisters that before Magnus passed on they say him or rather his feynes (a premonitive apparition), approaching the house. Such a phenomenon would be classified as supernatural – but was it? It is a reasonable postulate that everything, micro or macro, atom to constellation, physical to metaphysical, is within the control of natural law. And if this law was framed by a cosmic intelligence quite beyond our comprehension, nothing can possibly be supernatural. However, if normal is accepted as the level of our understanding then what we cannot understand must obviously be supernormal. We know what happens – we know not why.
But we do know why the good ship Diana and the ship’s boy Magnus Gray have earned honourable mention in the annals of nautical disaster.
Letters to the Editor
Sir – May I, through the courtesy of your paper, bring up points noted on my visit to the Perth Music Festival this year, which, incidentally, along with the rest of my family, was thoroughly enjoyed.
Firstly, as last year, there was an extreme lack of practice facilities for contestants before they went about their various competitions.
On enquiring about this, I was told it was all down to safety, as there was always the possibility of fire risks.
On witnessing the congestion in the main corridor linking the Lesser and Main Halls i.e. competitors instruments lying around, competitors waiting to go on stage, plus the public at large roaming around, I would ask the organising body to have a very close look at the matter.
Point 2 : The condition of the grand piano in the Main Hall. From remarks made, this instrument leaves a lot to be desired. Bands, trios etc pay for the privilege of entering their respective competitions, and a duff piano does them no favours. In fact one pianist promised to bring a mallet next time to get some response from the keyboard.
Being a musician myself and having heard the piano, I offer my heartfelt sympathy.
So come on Perth, live up to your reputation and people will still say it was a great day.
Ted Brown
Harlaw Reservoir House
Balerno
Sir – Firstly, may I apologies for the lateness of this letter in reply to letters in previous issues. This was due to me not being able to get copies until mid-October.
Never in the history of the ‘B&F’ have I read anything as hypocritical as Mr Dunbar’s letter in the September issue regarding the ADM.
As I was unable to attend I do not have first-hand knowledge of the events, so I cannot comment, but I findit hard to believe that Mr Dunbar has the cheek and nerve to quote rules and guidelines on how to conduct a meeting.
May I ask him to recall the AGM of the East Kilbride Club in 1984 and ask him to justify some of the comments and events of that meeting?
May I also express my dismay at yourself for abusing your position as Editor to make a biased political statement in your September editorial.
The ‘B&F’ is the newspaper of a social association with no political aims and therefore should not be used as a mouthpiece for political comments whether they be the view of Labour, Conservative, Liberal, SDP, SNP or even the Monster Raving Loony Parties, and judging from comments on the AGM we must surely have a few comments for the latter.
So may I appeal through the ‘B&F’ for Messrs Blue, Dunba rand other members of office in other Clubs to shut up, review their own ideas and put egos, prides and prejudices aside so we can get on with the one aim we as members of the NAAFC should all hold.
Let’s start promoting our music and leave fighting and political speeches to boxers and politicians.
Grant Crawford
East Kilbride
CLUB DIARY
Aberdeen (Dee Motel) –
Alnwick (Nag’s Head) – members only
Armadale (Masonic Arms Hotel) – 5th Dec 85 Keith Dickson SDB
Ayr (Aftongrange Hotel) –
Balloch (Griffin Hotel, Alexandria) – 17th Nov 85 Wallochmor
Banchory (Burnett Arms Hotel) –
Banff (Royal Oak Hotel) –
Beith (Anderson Hotel) –
Belford (Community Club) –
Biggar (Clydesdale Hotel) –
Bridge of Allan (Walmer Hotel) -
Buchan (Buchaness Hotel) –
Callander (Glengarry Hotel) – 12th Dec 85 Colin Dewar Trio
Campbeltown (Royal Hotel) –
Castle Douglas (Thistle Inn) –
Cleland (Dalrymple House) –
Coupar Angus (Royal Hotel) –
Crieff & District (Arduthie Hotel) –
Dalriada (Royal Hotel, Lochgilphead) –
Derwentside (Working Men’s Club, Consett) –
Dingwall (venue? ) –
Dunblane (Hydro) – 3rd Dec 85 Lothian SDB
Dundee (Queen’s Hotel, Nethergate) –
Dunfermline (Northern Roadhouse) – 3rd Dec 85 Angus Fitchet & Bobby Crowe
East Kilbride (King’s Park Hotel, Rutherglen) – 28th Nov 85 Raymond Chuchuk
Edinburgh (Abbey Suite, Abbey Lane) – 4th Dec 85 Tartan Lads
Ellon (Ladbroke Hotel) –
Falkirk (Park Hotel) –
Fintry (Clachan Hotel) –
Forres (Brig Motel) – 11th Dec 85 Inverness Fiddlers Society
Fort William (Caol Community Club) –
Galashiels (Maxwell Hotel) –
Galston (Theo’s Restaurant, Galston) –
Glendale (Black Bull Hotel – Wooler) – members only -
Gorebridge (Rangers FC Social Club) –
Highland (Drumossie Hotel) – 16th Dec 85 Dingwall Club
Islesteps (Cargenholm Hotel) –
Kelso (Ednam House Hotel) – 27th Nov 85 Jennifer Forrest SDB
Kintore (Crown Hotel) –
Langholm (Crown Hotel) –
Lesmahagow (Masonic Hall) – 12th Dec 85 Walter Beattie SDB
Livingston (Golden Hind, Blackburn) – 19th Dec 85 Wallachmor
Lockerbie (Bluebell Hotel) –
M.A.F.I.A. (Black Bull, Milngavie) –
Montrose (Park Hotel) –
Morecambe (Yorkshire Hotel, Lancaster) -
New Cumnock (Crown Hotel) –
Newtongrange (Dean Tavern) –
Newton St Boswells (Railway Hotel) –
North Cumbria (Howard Arms) (prev called Gretna Club) – 20th Nov 85 Ian Holmes / Kenny Wilson 18th Dec 85 Elmbank Sound
North East (Royal Hotel, Keith) –
Oban (Park Hotel) –
Orkney ( venue?) –
Ormiston (Miners’ Welfare Social Club) –
Peebles (Ex-Servicemen’s Club) –
Perth (Salutation Hotel) –
Premier NI (Wilson’s of Crumlin) -
Renfrew (Masonic Hall) –
Rothbury (Queen’s Head Hotel)
Shetland (venue?) -
Stranraer (Railway Club) – 3rd Dec 85 Ian Muir
Thornhill (?)
Thurso (McKay’s Hotel) –
Turriff (Royal Oak Hotel) – 5th Dec 85 Allison Bruce & Hazel Sangster
Tynedale (The Royal Hotel, Hexham) –
Walmer (Bridge of Allan) –
Wick (McKay’s Hotel) –
THERE WERE CLUB REPORTS FROM :-
1. Aberdeen
2. Banff & District
3. Callander
4. Castle Douglas
5. Crieff & District
6. Dalriada
7. Dingwall & District
8. Dunfermline & District
9. Dundee & District
10. East Kilbride
11. Forres
12. Fort William
13. Galston
14. Kelso
15. Kintore
16. Langholm
17. Lesmahagow
18. M.A.F.I.A.
19. North Cumbria
20. North East
21. Perth & District
22. Renfrew
23. Shetland
24. Stranraer
25. Thurso
CLUB DIRECTORY AS AT SEPT 1985 (Clubs didn’t necessarily notify the Assoc when they closed so the following may not be entirely correct. Only the clubs submitting the reports above were definitely open.)
1. Aberdeen A&F Club (1975)
2. Alnwick A&F Club (Sept 1976)
3. Armadale A&F Club (Oct 1978? or 80) originally called Bathgate Club (for 2 months)
4. Ayr A&F Club (Nov 1983 – per Nov 83 edition)
5. Balloch A&F Club (Sept 1972 – per January 1978 issue)
6. Banchory A&F Club (1978)
7. Banff & District A&F Club (Oct 1973)
8. Beith & District A&F Club (Sept 1972 – per first edition)
9. Belford A&F Club (joined Sept 1982)
10. Biggar A&F Club (Oct 1974)
11. Buchan A&F Club
12. Callander A&F Club (
13. Campbeltown & District A&F Club (c Dec 1980)
14. Castle Douglas A&F Club (c Sept 1980)
15. Crieff A&F Club (cSept 1981)
16. Dalriada A&F Club (Feb 1981)
17. Derwentside A&F Club
18. Dingwall & District (May 1979 – per first report)
19. Dunblane & District A&F Club (1971)
20. Dundee & District A&F Club
21. Dunfermline & District A&F Club (1974 – per first edition)
22. East Kilbride A&F Club (Sept 1980)
23. Edinburgh A&F Club (Apr 1981) prev called Chrissie Leatham A&F Club (Oct 1980)
24. Ellon A&F Club (
25. Falkirk A&F Club (Sept 1978 - )
26. Fintry A&F Club
27. Forres A&F Club (Jan 1978)
28. Fort William A&F Club (21st Oct 1980 – per Dec 1980 B&F)
29. Galashiels A&F Club (joined Sept 1982)
30. Galston A&F Club (Oct 1969 – per first edition – closed March 2006)
31. Glendale Accordion Club (Jan 1973)
32. Highland A&F Club (Inverness)
33. Islesteps A&F Club (Jan 1981)
34. Isle of Skye A&F Club (
35. Kelso A&F Club (May 1976)
36. Kintore A&F Club
37. Langholm A&F Club (Oct 1967)
38. Lesmahagow A&F Club (Nov 1979 – closed May 2005)
39. Livingston A&F Club (Sept 1973 – per first edition)
40. Lockerbie A&F Club (Nov 1973)
41. M.A.F.I.A. (early)
42. Montrose A&F Club (joined Sept 1982)
43. Newtongrange A&F Club (joined Sept 1979)
44. Newton St Boswells Accordion Club (17th Oct 1972 see Apr 1984 obituary for Angus Park)
45. North Cumbria A&F Club (originally Gretna started June 1966 – had to move to a venue in the North of England and changed name – eventually changed back when they returned to the Halcrow Stadium. No breaks in the continuity of the Club)
46. North East A&F Club aka Keith A&FC (Sept 1971)
47. Oban A&F Club (Nov 1975)
48. Orkney A&F Club (Mar 1978)
49. Ormiston Miners’ Welfare Society A&F Club
50. Peebles A&F Club (26 Nov 1981)
51. Perth & District A&F Club (Aug 1970)
52. Premier A&F Club NI (cNov 1980)
53. Rothbury Accordion Club (1987??)
54. Shetland A&F Club (Sept 1978)
55. Stranraer & District Accordion Club (1974 – per first edition)
56. Sutherland A&F Club (
57. Thornhill A&F Club (joined Oct 1983 – see Nov 83 edition)
58. Thurso A&F Club (cSept 1981)
59. Turriff A&F Club (March 1982)
60. Tynedale A&F Club (Nov 1980)
61. Wick A&F Club (Oct 1975)
Not on official list at the start of the season (closed, did not renew membership or omitted in error?)
62. Bonchester Accordion Club (Closed?)
63. Bridge of Allan (Walmer) A&F Club (Walmer Hotel, Bridge of Allan) (c March 1982)
64. Cleland (cNov 1981 – March 1985) originally called Drumpellier A&F Club (for 2 months)
65. Club Accord
66. Coquetdale A&F Club (Feb 1974 or c1976/77 – 1981/2?)
67. Coupar Angus A&F Club (cSept 1978 - ?)
68. Cumnock A&F Club (October 1976 - forced to close cDec 1982 - see Jan 83 Editorial)
69. Denny & Dunipace A&F Club (Feb 1981)
70. Dornoch
71. Dumfries Accordion Club (Oughtons) (April 1965 at the Hole in the Wa’)
72. Dunbar Cement Works A&F Club (Closed?)
73. Gorebridge (cNov 1981) originally called Arniston A&F Club (for 2 months)
74. Gretna A&F Club (June 1966)
75. Greenhead Accordion Club (on the A69 between Brampton and Haltwistle)
76. Kinlochsheil A&F Club (
77. Kirriemuir A&F Club (cSept 1981)
78. Monklands A&F Club (Nov 1978 – closed cApril 1983)
79. Morecambe A&F Club (joined Sept 1982)
80. Newcastleton Accordion Club
81. New Cumnock A&F Club (cMarch 1979)
82. Renfrew A&F Club (original club 1974/5 lapsed after a few years then again in 1984)
83. Straiton Accordion Club (c1968 – closed March 1979)
84. Torthorwald A&F Club (near Dumfries)
85. Wellbank A&F Club
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