Published in Press and Journal – Sep 19, 2011
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They are sharp and horrible and have caused me terrible pain and misery. I’m not actually talking about my in-laws – well, not this time. What I am talking about has had me agonisingly trapped by my shoulder, by my hand and one even came close to ripping off my undercarriage when I fell on it while straddling a stile in my rush to get to a beach.
The wretched instruments of torture of which I speak are, of course, our fearsome island fences. If there’s one thing guaranteed to bring tears to my eyes it is recalling that particular humiliating episode down at Coll Beach a few years ago when I was left dangling on the most penetrative barbed wire on which I have ever rested my wee pink bits.
And something equally painful happened on South Uist as well. Trying to get a better position to take photos of that pod of ill-fated pilot whales which had ended up in Loch Carnan, I thought I’d go up the road and climb the hill. Just one problem. There was a sturdy fence barring the way and no gate for miles. Oh no, it had vicious-looking barbed wire all along it. Ach, no bother, I can tackle any fence after what happened to me in Coll. I never learn.
This time, there wasn’t even a stile. So I had to drop the camera over it first and begin my ascent. What I didn’t plan for was that I was fairly high up the hill so, just as I was getting my leg over, I was hit amidships by Hurricane Floraidh. A sudden wind swung me back like a weather vane slamming me against the groaning fence post.
In situations like this, the kindly advice of physics teachers like Mr Robbie, Mr Campbell and Mr Mackay come flooding back. For any non-scientific readers, kinetic energy is best explained by showing how it is changed to and from other forms of energy.
For example, I was using chemical energy provided by the sausage and black pudding I had at the Dark Island Hotel to climb that fence at my chosen velocity. That movement had to be maintained with enough oomph to overcome air resistance and friction. So, the chemical energy was being converted into kinetic energy, the energy of motion, but that kind of process is never completely efficient and was also producing heat and sweatiness on certain parts of my anatomy. OK so far?
The law of gravity meant I’d acquired a whole shedload of even more kinetic energy and, by swinging back too far, had run out of options for transfer. Meanwhile, my right leg was still partly over the barbed wire and being dragged back over the by-now bloody pricks. Yeeeouch.
By the time I became completely dislodged and fell to earth, the pain was so intense I didn’t even notice my head bouncing off an ollack and rolling into the swamp.
Kinetic energy, of course, can be passed from one object to another and when I passed it to the fence post it went all wibbly-wobby and undoubtedly was thereon transferred by way of local terrestrial tremors. That’s kinetic energy. See? Science is so interesting when you have a tutor who has personally experienced what could otherwise be boring, theoretical situations. A bonus was that, as I eventually came to my senses, I realised there was no one around to witness my downfall. So no one could get offended if I let rip with the most fearsome oaths and curses about the usefulness of fences, the properties of barbed wire and my lessening affection for bewildered marine creatures.
Who’d have thought that loudly proclaiming unspecified doubts about the parentage of pilot whales above a Uist sea loch was an effective stress reliever? Worked for me, I tell you. Mind you, that was probably because this was South Uist and I was far away from the influence of the Free Church or the Continuing for the feelings of guilt at stooping to profanity to be sufficiently suppressed. I have to say I’m intrigued by a competition launched by a tradesmen’s website called Get Off The Fence. They are looking for get nominations for the biggest, best, ugliest or most ridiculous fences. Whether they are fabulous or very bad, they want to feature them.
Fences serve so many purposes, they say, including keeping out unwanted intruders, marking clear boundaries between neighbours and affording you privacy when you’re enjoying some time in the garden. They think it’s time to celebrate these brilliant boundary markers and fantastic fences which, while doing so many other things, actually brighten up our day. Yeah, right. One gets the impression it is more about poncey garden fences more than jaggy-topped livestock ones but, hey, a fence is a fence.
The blurb says Britain’s got millons so they acknowledge that not all are going to be that great. Some may be faded, splintered, too small or too tall, they expect. Whatever the reason, they are asking the public to get off the fence and name and shame the worst offenders. I think I could win this, you know. If I took them to those fences in Coll and Loch Carnan that are not just ugly to look at but capable of inflicting deep and lasting injury to innocent people, they would have to be impressed. No lily-livered lawn border or terrible trellis could beat my entries. Because I took photos before I applied the ointment.
