Dave Jarvis of British Divers Marine Life Rescue tells Iain Maciver that the Uist whales may only have been in Loch Carnan for a feed of octopus. Now they have had a good scoff and a burp, they are off again.

Radio nan Gàidheal, the BBC’s national Gaelic network, is launching a new half-hour satirical comedy show to be broadcast on Fridays for six weeks, with a second series planned for later in the year. ‘Dè Do Naidheachd’, funded by MG ALBA, is a news-based panel quiz in which two teams battle for laughs as well as points and will be presented by photographer, artist and broadcaster Calum Angus MacKay.

Murdo Angus MacLeod,  the show’s producer and former Scotland on Sunday Political Correspondent said: “There is a rich seam of distinctive Gaelic comedy which we are going to make use of to get people laughing. We will also have a few surprises for the audience by introducing new talent both on-air and in the script-writing team. Author Catriona Lexy Campbell will be the chief scriptwriter with some aspiring young writers joining the production team. The comedy will be no-holds-barred and for the avoidance of doubt, there are various ways of saying ‘allegedly’ in Gaelic.”

MG ALBA Editor Margaret Cameron said:  “Radio has a long history of developing comedy talent and we’re delighted to be working with Radio nan Gaidheal to further develop and expand our talent base while offering our audience quality entertainment at the same time.”

The show will be recorded in front of a live audience in Stornoway starting Thursday 12 May at 5:45pm.

The first programme is scheduled to be transmitted on Friday 13 May at 5:30pm and with a chance to catch it again on Saturday morning at 10.00am.

For more details about being part of the audience, please call BBC Radio nan Gàidheal on 01851 705000.

This is the radio interview I did with the wonderfully unflappable Scottish writer and broadcaster, Muriel Gray.  It is not technically perfect. That is not just down to my incompetence this time because a TV crew from Taiwan came and began setting up for their interviews beside us.
Muriel was great. Towards the end of our chat, I was much too flirty and too cheeky to her but she dealt with it with her usual aplomb and good grace. Muriel, thank you.

I’LL tell you what’s a lovely word and miles better than its English equivalent. Norrag.

Great word. Nor-rag. It suggests something rare and small, yet it is so precise that it must be something you can only benefit from.

Everyone has heard someone use it, but they often forget to check with their local teuchter to find out exactly what it means.

You must always get the meaning confirmed when you come across an unfamiliar Gaelic word. It could mean anything.

I used to have an old English-born widow for a neighbour. Let’s call her Mary, because that was her name. She told me once how she always felt better for the rest of the day if she slept for half an hour after lunch.

So I would cheerfully inquire if I saw her in the afternoon as to whether or not she had taken her norrag yet. It means a nap, you see.

However, each time I asked, for some strange reason, the battling grannie would immediately scold me in that mischievous way that reminded me of a comedian off the telly.

“Oh, stop it. What do you take me for?” she would say, before giving me a clout round the back of the head for my trouble. I got walloped every time.

Don’t think 78-year-olds can’t hurt you. Ouch.

Her assault made me feel like the foil for that blousy Dick Emery character. When asked some question with a saucy double-meaning, the response was always: “Ooh, you are awful. But I like you.”

The comedian would then playfully thump his open-mouth victim before scurrying off on unfeasible heels. It felt a bit like that.

After months of being assaulted by this pugilistic pensioner, I discovered she thought a norrag was a dram.

Convinced I was suggesting she was on the gin rather earlier in the day than would be proper for a gentle-lady of her years, her strategy to stop me besmirching her reputation was to knock seven bells out of me.

Kenneth Clarke had 40 winks during the chancellor’s Budget speech. Mind you, having seen him recently turn up in parliament with a black eye, maybe I shouldn’t ask if he enjoyed his norrag.

How to have a norrag

Dick Emery reminded me of the women on high heels I saw the other day, rushing for the Point bus.

Two of them atop the highest heels somehow tripped on the pedestrian crossing outside the Clydesdale Bank. Poor dears, they ended up in close contact with the tarmacadam.

A double Naomi Campbell. Four ankles, knees and heels flailing about as the wee green man, and goodness knows what else, was flashing away.

Sorry, ladies. It wasn’t funny. Probably quite sore afterwards, were we? Could have happened to anyone. They were just unlucky.

And how do I know all this? They may remember that white van man who stopped at the lights and offered to help them in their moment of humiliating distress? ’Twas I. Yes, I saw it all.

Only their pride was badly bruised, I hear. I don’t know why I mentioned it. I promise I won’t do it again – at least not without naming names to really give the lassies a red face to go with their red behinds.

When it comes to naming names for the most surprising broadcast this week, I think the prize goes to the BBC’s Gaelic request programme Durachdan.

Normally, tuning in to Radio nan Gaidheal at teatime on Friday, you can be sure you will hear fine old Gaelic songs sung the way they should be, often by great, talented people who are no longer with us – and Costello, of Flair fame.

Not so at the end of last week. Not only did Ailig in Inverness and his co-presenter in Aberdeen, the other Ailig, have a certain jauntiness not often found in traditional music programmes, but they even played a track from a top-selling international chart star with fans in the millions.

Not Costello this time.

They played Cee Lo Green. He’s the guy who did the song with the rude lyrics that eventually became the cleaned-up chart-topper Forget You.

Cee Lo Green on Na Durachdan? How did that happen? It’s like Aled Jones doing Songs of Praise from The Free Church (Continuing).

It turns out that Green, who was also the guy in that Gnarls Barkley outfit which did Crazy a few years ago, recently did a New York R&B tune called The Language of Love. And it’s got loads of Gaelic in it.

And it’s no bad – as far as misty-eyed Gaelic ballads with a hint of R&B go.

Neither Ailig nor Ailig, both veritable masters in the art of analysing Gaelic performances, had any clue who was the female Gael with the delightful tones.

They even appealed for listeners to help. Not a beeg from anyone, even though that programme has listeners calling in from places like Australia, Algeria and Airidhbhruaich.

What do I think? Methinks it’s Cathy Ann MacPhee, who is nowadays to be found in Ottawa. Cathy Ann still hasn’t answered my question asking if that is her. So I think it probably is.

The Barra-born First Lady of Gaelic Song is probably thinking: “That big star Cee Lo Green wants me to keep my role in this song hush-hush and now Maciver is on my Facebook asking tricky questions about it. Trust him to recognise me.

“I’d better not upset an international superstar in case he is planning to give me a bigger role in something else. What am I going to do? I’d better not respond. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Nothing.”

Either that, or it’s not Cathy Ann at all.

Come on. Let me know, m’eudail. I can’t sleep until I find out.

Unlike Kenneth Clarke during the Budget speech. Still, he didn’t miss much that was interesting. Just that 1p cut from petrol.

You know, I don’t think etrol has quite the same ring to it.

Although it was great to see so many dedicated fans camping out on what was, for the most part, a very civilised, if somewhat chilly, Saturday morning we are very disappointed that a small minority decided to behave unfairly. We had hoped that in a small town like Stornoway local people would not behave in such a manner towards one another. The promoters decision to only sell tickets in person was intended to give local people more of a chance to see the band. It is a shame that this small minority felt inclined to act in this way towards their neighbours.

Unfortunately, demand for all these gigs was very high and was always going to leave many more people disappointed than happy. We hope that Mumford & Sons, as they have said on their website, will come back again as soon as they can.

To the best of our knowledge all the people in the queue were there of their own free will and could have left at any time. An Lanntair staff did not take headcounts, however, even after the tickets had been sold out more than 75 people insisted on staying behind and being put on a reserve list. As to the size of the venue, that was a decision taken by the band and the promoter as they wanted to play “intimate shows”.

I learned he was here only by chance from a cameraman who was, by then, getting ready to go and see him. By then, I had other commitments but – let’s be clear – no one from the Labour Party invited me nor even told me he was coming.

There is no reason why they should, if they don’t want me there.  And there is no reason why I should keep quiet when their mandarins make up such nonsense to explain my absence.

Councillor Norman Macleod must quit the licensing board. He should apologise and admit he made a mistake and step down. If he is a man of honour, that is.

He is the licensing board member who broke the law by voting against the Stornoway Golf Club Sunday opening application and, yes, I know he was not the only lawbreaker in the room.

However, Mr Macleod then went on Gaelic radio, in a pointed address aimed at the Free Church faithful, and said he would do exactly the same again. He must have thought no freethinkers tune in. That’s as daft as the rest of his beliefs.

Mr Norman Mubarak

I asked him about it. He did not deny it. He did, however, quibble that I did not include in my story the words “according to the information we had.”  That was a lie. I did include them.

That, of course, was just a smokescreen to divert attention from his real crime – telling the world his voting intentions. Consider applications on their merits? That’s for wimps, he must have thought.

However, as a Free Church member and a councillor, Mr Macleod has undertaken to uphold the law of the land. Not church law, Sharia law or the law of gravity.

Yet, when the council lawyer and the board chairman pointed out that the board should approve the application to keep on the right side of the law, he deliberately flouted the law and did the opposite.

Here’s the best bit. This arrogant, church-going lawbreaker is also the convener of the Northern Joint Police Board. Not a joke. Honest. A man who does not care tuppence for the the law of the land is, effectively, in charge of policy at Northern Constabulary.

Think about it. The police board convener has said on the BBC that he broke the law – and is prepared to break the law again. The boss of the police board obviously does not even care about the law.

What a disgrace.

People had a go at former council chief executive Dr George Macleod when he muddled up his words on TV after the BCCI losses became known. That was nothing compared to this. This is a premeditated show of arrogance and complete defiance of the law. Sheesh.

As the LDOS helpfully pointed out in its carefully-timed advert in the Stornoway Gazette this week (page 4), anyone crazy enough to believe their absurd threats must realise that the best laws to follow are these ancient ones to be found mediaeval texts packed with hocus-pocus to manipulate the population.

Thank you, LDOS. Now get back to your padded cells.

Councillors, here and on the mainland, tell me they are surprised Mr Macleod has not fallen on his sword yet.

None of them want to be named but a mainland-based politician, sent me a message saying: “His position is untenable because of that radio broadcast. I really did not expect Norman to do a Hosni Mubarak and try and ride the storm.
“Why is the rest of the islands’ media not covering what he did? How deep does this conspiracy go?”

That is a question for them, not for me. I do my best.

When Western Isles Licensing Board assembles in Tahrir Square, sorry Sandwick Road, at 5.30pm on Tuesday, to consider a restaurant’s Sunday opening application, the lawbreaker Mr Macleod should not be there. Will the island media report that someone who has already broadcast on the BBC his voting intentions is allowed to stain the reputation of the democratic process? Probably not.

The facts are clear. If Mr Macleod was an honest person himself, however, he would not even be a councillor by Tuesday. He should instead be asking the community’s forgiveness for his mistakes.

But, like Mubarak, the power and the prestige and the police limousine are hard habits to break.  Unlike, it seems, the law that the rest of the people in this shabbily-represented community have to obey.

I keep being asked who are the people in this community who are elected yet have so little respect for the law. Here is the gallery of Mr Macleod’s fellow rogues, all people who consider themselves above the law of the land. Lovely, aren’t they? Next time you see them on the street – make sure and tell them what you think. Otherwise, they won’t know.

Law doesn't apply north of Galson

It's only money

Abstained but now guilty as sin

Surcharge? Why?

Law cannot apply south of Clisham as it's Inverness-shire.

“While my (crystal) ball’s out, through swirling mists I see Matt Cardle and Rebecca Ferguson will be in the X Factor final.”

It was long before the bookies tipped him. Not even Simon Cowell spotted the potential – he admitted tonight he had Aiden Grimshaw or Gamu down to win in those early stages. The week after, I said on radio it would be Matt with Rebecca second.  And what happened …?

So I am available for talent spotting gigs or there may be a singer or band who wants a sharp-eyed promoter, a manager …