When the wee forecaster manny in London sweeps his hand upwards and refers to the Outer Hebrides, that ragged chain of discarded breadcrumbs almost off the top left edge, we become interested. A mention makes it almost local.
I’ve now taken to scanning the ultra-local weather forecasts compiled by a college lecturer here in Stornoway. On the University of the Highlands and Islands website, Dr Eddie Graham goes into spectacular detail to explain why the weather is what it is.
Dornoch Pic: Undiscovered Scotland
Just to give one example, on Thursday last week Lewis was overcast while lucky Uist was bathed in sunshine. How? Why? “Although there’s a stubborn layer of low cloud across Lewis, It is unable to cross the Clisham so it is warm and fine to the south of the Harris hills and across the Uists and Barra.”
The Clisham, that big mountain which does a fine job separating Hearachs and the cultured people to the north, was being set upon by elderly, weak clouds which couldn’t haul themselves up and over so they could be incontinent from Lochmaddy to Lochboisdale. Frail stratocumulus got their much-needed relief instead by watering the flowers in Ardvourlie, a sodden township lying in the northern foothills of the mighty Clisham.
Eddie even takes personal responsibility when the clouds open and weather turns foul. What’s his latest forecast on Twitter now? “Rain and wind for rest of week – sorry.” Not good enough, Eddie. Fix it.
Referring to cumulusnimbus baffles me but compare a cloud to someone with mobility problems and I understand. No wonder the UHI resident forecaster was voted the university’s Most Engaging Video Conference Tutor 2012-2013. Taking advice from Eddie, originally from Limerick and speaking better Gaelic than most born-and-bred Stornowegians, I headed off to Dornoch with Chris Murray, the former longtime rescue helicopter crewman who is from those distant east coast pairts, and whose autobiography, Winchman, has just been published but available only in quality bookshops with discerning clientele.
As his Chief Spelling Mistake Finder, I tagged along as he was speaking at Saturday’s Dornoch Book Fair and signing copies of his well-illustrated tome. At the fair I got my cuppa from Jimmy “The Spoons” Melville. Involved in many aspects of Dornoch life, Jimmy even worked at the railway station before it closed in 1960. A former RAF air traffic bod, like myself, he dismissed his nine years in uniform in exotic places like Singapore as being too far back to recall. “I’ll tell you how long ago it was,” he said. “Pontius was still a pilot.”
Then it was down the hill to Dornoch Bookshop where I heard a woman passer-by ask what was going on. Another said that Chris Murray was due soon. “Not the Chris Murray?” gasped the first woman. What did she mean ‘the Chris Murray’? “You know. He was always pulling people out of the sea with his big chopper,” she said, pointing skywards and twirling her finger like a rotor blade.
Covering the big fellow’s tender ears, I dragged him inside where he met many an old friend and relative and flogged many a memoir at the bargain price of just £11.99. Later, I met Kenny Martin from Stornoway who has been in Dornoch for 30-odd years. He is of the famous Martin clan from Parkend and is a brother-in-law of our own islands’ council leader, the Angus Campbell. I couldn’t believe the amount of strong drink I had to pump into that man before he would divulge any secrets about his outlandish in-laws. Still, we got there in the end.
An annual highlight is the Dornoch Games in August. People come from near and far to chat and reminisce. Farmer Ian ‘Proncy’ Grant admitted to me: “I’ve been going to the Games for the last 40 years and still haven’t seen what goes on outside the beer tent.”
Another musical type I bumped into late in the evening at the Dornoch Inn was Mr Andrew Innes Macleod of Wallace House. A former accordianist, piper, and paint shop owner, he told me he was called up to the military in 1938. Eh? That can’t be right. How old was this jolly reveller? “I’m only 92,” he said. I would have put him at 20 years younger.
Could I put in the P&J where I met him, I asked, to show these dour-faced people back in the islands that having a giggle in the pub now and again is good for you and could help you live a long and happy life? “Darn right you can,” said Andrew. “You could put in that you met me in Dornoch Cathedral, but no one round here would believe a word of that.”
We left an overcast Dornoch and motored westwards. As we neared Ullapool, the sun broke through and it was a gorgeous day. Now, thanks to Dr Eddie, we know why. Had we checked, we would probably have seen a queue of feeble and infirm clouds trying to scramble over Ben Mor Assynt and Stac Polly.
How can I order a book ??