"Depending upon the prevailing atmosphere, Earraid was dubbed either Harmony Row or Hell Alley!" (Finlay MacEachern, in Allardyce and Hood, p. 61)
In 1873, four families moved onto "The Street", the menfolk being 'First Principal Keeper' (James Ewing, continuing a family tradition of lighthouse keeping) and three Assistant Keepers — the rotation at the Light left three men on and one man off at any given time. Under normal conditions, the man on shore was expected to carry out maintenance and other projects. For most of the time, there was also an 'Occasional Keeper', a man trained as a light keeper but called upon only in case of illness, holiday or other emergency. This fifth man was from the local area but did not live on the island itself.
Mr. McGregor, Captain of the Dhu Heartach steamer and his permanent officers also soon began to live on Erraid. They were charged rent for their houses, and in addition paid for coal and oil, which the Keepers had as benefits.
The Stevensons opposed this arrangement. Most of the seamen were hired on as needed and could be laid off at any time by the Captain. This made it possible that non-lighthouse board employees might take up houses, potentially leaving keepers short. They also opposed another suggestion that extra houses should be built for seamen. In the end their viewpoint prevailed.
Twenty years later, in 1892, the four families of the Skerryvore lighthouse keepers were transferred to Erraid from Hynish on Tiree, replacing seamen. As the two small communities were previously quite isolated physically, it was thought the social lives of wives and children of keepers from the lighthouses would be improved by putting them together.
The men were often isolated from their families for a minimum of three weeks at a time, and in the winter it was not uncommon to be stranded for months. So difficult were the conditions that Keepers' allowances included extra pay in compensation, an added bonus of from £28 to £46 per year, and an extra 'rock suit' of protective clothing annually. (Munro 1979, p.182) Dubh Artach's neighbour lighthouse, Skerryvore, held the British record for the most storms between the years of 1881 and 1900. It suffered 542 separate storms, lasting a total of 14,211 hours.
"One keeper at Skerryvore was thrown inwards from the entrance door, stunned, and lost his hearing for several weeks by a lightning bolt." (Munro, p. 175).
The steamer which connected lighthouse and shore, Dhu Heartach, was eventually replaced by the Signal built in 1883. She was also based at Erraid and made the weekly runs, weather permitting, to Skerryvore and Dubh Artach to change keepers and restock supplies. Signal ran aground and sank off the Mull of Kintyre in 1895. Her own replacement, Hesperus, operated out of Oban and served the Erraid community for many years.
Service on a Rock Lighthouse divided men from their families and also from the safety of the mainland. Communication between the Light and the Shore Stations was always very important. In the early days the only method was to send signals in Morse code.
"By means of a very powerful telescope pivoted inside the tower, they ascertain from the presence or absence of a large black ball kept for the purpose of the lighthouse, whether or not the keepers desire communication with the shore…. The letters of the alphabet are indicated by displaying a ball at long and short intervals, different combinations of these intervals being made to indicate the letters required." (MacCormick, p. 175)
Later trials used a heliograph, in which a mirror flashed a signal much faster than the black ball method. This worked between the Erraid lookout and Dubh Artach, but from the latter to Skerryvore it was inadequate.
"Between Skerryvore and Earraid it was possible to signal directly by heliograph – weather permitting. A day of passing clouds could be nothing short of exasperating, as on the occasion when Earraid began to flash a message to the Principal Keeper at Skerryvore, whose wife was something of a hypochondriac. The message began well enough, 'Mrs. So-and-so has got…' Across scudded clouds, and the Principal Keeper, imaging all sorts of ailments afflicting his poor wife, had to wait some time before he learned that what his wife had got was 'a goose in the Christmas raffle'!" (Allardyce and Hood, p.50)
In 1929, the Northern Lighthouse Board approved the purchase and installation of Marconi wireless telephones for Dubh Artach (£419), Skerryvore (£439) and Erraid (£444), complete with petrol driven power plants. Installation was completed in 1930, From then on, the men on the lighthouses were able to stay in touch with their families and co-workers fairly reliably.
The many years of semi-isolation in the Hebridean sea were over.
"in mid-July 1940 a stick of bombs dropped at Skerryvore exploded on the rocks near the tower, cracking two lantern panes and shattering an incandescent mantle." (Munro, p. 229)
Fortunately, no one was injured in the episode.
The Second World War brought changes to the lives of the keepers and their families that they resented. In September, 1940, the Master of the Hesperus suggested that all the personnel be changed once a month, to reduce the number of trips made to the Rocks.
"My sole reason for putting forward this request is because of the constant stream of enemy activity now operating in the North Channel and in the vicinity of Skerryvore also the difficulty experienced in getting escorts." (Secretary's Correspondence, September 1940)
The Northern Lighthouse Board chose an even more stringent solution. They decided that the Keepers would stay two months on the Rock and one month off, throughout the wartime period, making only one trip per month necessary.
The Keepers themselves reacted violently to this decision. They were not consulted on the matter. Every light keeper stationed at Erraid wrote a letter of protest to the Board, citing the health and safety considerations of being on the Rock for two month stretches during the winter, and objecting to this decision being made without input from the people directly involved. The Board's ruling stood, however, and the Keepers were forced to accept it.
The ongoing maintenance of the dirt track was still a problem, however. Perhaps because three institutions shared the responsibility, in practice, repairs were only made once an emergency situation developed. In 1939 the Commissioners and the Argyll Estate proposed to the Ministry of Agriculture that the road be placed on the County Council list, to be maintained by public resources. This was agreed, as long as the tracks to Knockvologan and Pottie were also included. However, the County Board tabled the request, on the grounds that the second world war, newly commenced, took precedence.
By 1948 the road was in a crisis state again, and the three organisations agreed to split the cost (£60) of the repairs. In that year they made another application to the County Council, and were turned down, so the road remained private — and rough — for several more years.
In 1896, the principal light keeper of Dubh Artach wrote to the Northern Lighthouse Board commissioners suggesting that an empty house on Erraid might be used as a school. After discussions with the local School Board, this request was approved.
At the start there were 16 children, between 5 and 15 years of age, 11 from the keeper's families, and 5 from the McGilivray family at the croft. The Lighthouse Board agreed to pay £25 per annum subsidy and to provide a living room for the teacher. A spare room at the west end of the street became the school room. The school board would provide the teacher as long as the number of children remained similar. (NLB Memorandum on Erraid Schooling, June, 1909)
Because of the changing personnel of the community on Erraid, the number of children at school was never constant. Between 1898 and 1950, a total of 199 pupils were registered, though some were withdrawn and then reregistered. If numbers dropped, other solutions were sought to allow the school to remain open.
"The number of children attending school has on several occasions if not normally fallen below the original number, and permission has been granted to other children to attend. At present there are 8 children at the station of school age." (Memorandum 1909)
Other children attending school at Erraid over the years came from Fidden and Knockvologan. They walked or were boated over every morning. So the school continued.
During the first years of the twentieth century, Grace McKechnie was schoolteacher at Erraid, and is listed on the parish register of voters in 1910. She earned the modest sum of seventy pounds per year, of which the School Board paid forty and the Board of Trade by way of the Northern Lighthouse Board, thirty. In 1916, Miss McKechnie requested that the Board supply her with free coal for heating her cottage, since her income did not cover the expense. The Commissioners arranged for her to buy coal delivered to the island by the Hesperus at cost price. Through such compromises the school stayed open.
There are some early twentieth century accounts of life at the Erraid school:
"Most of the day-to-day work was done on slates, jotters only being brought out once a week for tests." Slate pencils" quickly became blunt, too, and the outside wall of the schoolroom was scored and smoothed by the sharpening of slate pencils by many generations of lighthouse children." (Mary Robertson, p. 47)
(It had) "four rows of big desks, then two smaller ones for the teacher to work at. There were drawers in it for the teacher to keep the registers in. There was a library with books for pupils to take home to read, and blackboards and maps of the world. (They had) big old pointers for indicating things, and spanking' you, too, if you didn't pay attention, and a red pencil to crack you across the knuckles with." (Bella Cameron)
A small fireplace kept the room warm, with a fireguard to protect the children. Bella's teachers were Miss MacKechnie, then Mrs. MacDonald.
Ruth Dickson was welcomed to the school by Miss MacKechnie.
In 1950, after over 52 years of operation on the island, the school finally shut down. The school room has, in recent times, become a dining room.
There was a changeover at the Erraid Croft. Neil Mathieson's family moved away and it was occupied by John McGilivray, a 40 year old fisherman from Ardalanish, his 29 year old wife, Ann, and their new-born son, Duncan (1881 Census Report). Ann McGilivray later worked as the cleaner for the school room, and had a fire going every morning before the pupils arrived. The McGilivray family grew rapidly and, by 1891, John and Ann had six children from four months to 10 years of age. Their descendants still live in Bunessan.
One of them, Peter McGilivray, who visited Erraid frequently as a child, recalls that the lighthouses were an important part of the life of the family at the croft. The shore station was a source of employment, schooling and social life for all but the last years the McGilivray family lived in the croft, up till the 1960s.
Peter's uncle, Hugh, who attended school with the light keepers' children, continued to have a close attachment to the Shore Station throughout his entire life. He worked for the Lighthouse Board as ferryman, postman, wireless telephone operator, and general handyman to the community:
"Hughie (the 'postie') lived in a wee cottage like a black house: low, thatched and built of rough stone blocks. Hughie's cottage was just off the foreshore, so near the beach that a wall had to be built to keep out the highest spring tides or an exceptionally wicked storm." (Mary Robertson, p. 56)
In 1941, the Board agreed to an arrangement by which Hugh McGilivray could be called upon without having to approve each individual case. When he died, in 1945, the Board sought a replacement. They hired a local man, Angus McDonald, who moved into the Pier House. He had once served as an occasional keeper for Skerryvore. Pier House probably became known as the ferryman's cottage in this period.
Kate McGilivray, Hugh's sister, grew up on Erraid and lived there most of her life. She was a nurse, and had served in front line areas during world war one. Inscribed shell casings presented to her in recognition are still kept at the Croft. After the war, Kate returned to Erraid to care for her parents and acted as a district nurse for the Ross of Mull and Iona.
Two of Hugh and Kate's brothers, John and Hector, died in the First World War at Portsmouth from measles infection. They are buried at the Scoor cemetery on the Ross. One of them was involved in Erraid's dramas:
"Peter McGilivray's grandmother used to come over to Fidden in a small boat to get seed potatoes. On one occasion the daughter was rowing the boat, and the son was standing in the doorway of the house watching over them. Coming back, halfway across the girl must have gotten tired. The mother decided to change positions. She was a large woman, and the boat overturned and they both went in the water. Fortunately, the wind went under Mrs. McGilivray's skirts and held her up. The brother ran down and dived in. Nobody knew he could swim! He swam out and was going to rescue his mother, but she said 'No, rescue your sister, first,' because she would float. The girl had long hair, so he grabbed that and swam to shore. They were both saved." (Attie MacKechnie)
Around 1928, Evander and Annabella MacLennon, who had been living in the Falkland Islands, came to live at Knockvologan croft, bringing their children with them, one of them three year old daughter, Bella. Bella has spent her entire life in the area, attending school on Erraid and marrying Hughie Cameron whose family lived in Pottie. At the time of writing she is still living, though, sadly, Hughie is deceased.
Finally, there were two MacDonald brothers living at Knockvologan at the time, serving as occasional keepers at Dubh Artach and Skerryvore. Colin MacDonald married a teacher living at Erraid, and she moved to a croft on the Mull side of the Narrows. Mrs. MacDonald walked down to Erraid every day, and continued teaching there through the 1940's.
The Keepers' did not usually live out their lives on Erraid.
"A spell of four to five years at each station was ... normal, with about eight stations in a career of between 30 and 40 years, and promotion to principal after sixteen or seventeen years as an assistant." (Munro 1979, p. 181)
There were exceptions. William Davidson spent 14 years on Dubh Artach, Archibald McEachern, 14 years on Skerryvore, and John Nicol, 10 years on Dubh Artach, 13 on Skerryvore — living at Erraid the whole time. No doubt the quality of accommodation and the school on Erraid influenced this.
After the Skerryvore keepers had moved in, four houses were reserved for each lighthouse, with the 'best' cottages reserved for the Principal Keepers and their families. The houses were numbered west-to-east instead of their present east-to- west. The school, of slightly different layout, was at the west end. The Dubh Artach keepers lived at the east end.
The keepers' families cultivated the gardens, but they had to pay extra rent for them. The fresh vegetables, they grew, especially potatoes, supplemented dried provisions supplied by the Northern Lighthouse Board. Basic foods, meat and personal items were brought by steamer from Oban on a regular basis. Major shipments of household supplies arrived once a year. Hugh Cameron remembers the annual coal deliveries; each keeper got eight tons, but principal keepers, got ten. For a couple of days horses and carts were hired in from Mull. Hughie and his brother shovelled coal over the wall into the stores behind the privies.
"If the wind was eastern (sic), all the dust would be coming back at you. It was a horrible job.... "
The early 20th century descriptions of life on Erraid probably applied throughout the life span of the station.
"At Earraid, there was no such amenity as a refuse collection. We had middens instead of dustbins, sited, for obvious reasons, near the sea. This primitive method of rubbish disposal was not a health hazard, as none of us ever caught any diseases and I never heard of a midden starting an epidemic. Any rotting vegetation was recycled. What wasn't fed to the hens was used as manure for the gardens. The middens mostly contained broken dishes or other household items, with a sprinkling of empty tins which were soon washed clean by the sea." (Mary Robertson, p. 50)
Pieces of broken crockery can still be found along the shoreline.
Mrs. Helen Black, whose father was a light keeper on Skerryvore from 1918 to 1924, recalls,
In Ruth Dickson's (then Thomson) fascinating account of growing up as the child of a light keeper in the 1920's, she writes:
"The dwellings were all furnished, which helped in the expense of moving the light keepers. My mother, as usual, was not too fond of the standard furnishings — she liked to add her own subtle touches.... (Although) fireplaces were in three rooms, still the floors were always cold, chilled from the stone under the linoleum. Everyone, from toddlers up, had chilblains on their feet and sometimes on their hands. The kitchen fire was the only one kept banked. The other fireplaces ... were only lit occasionally."
Twice a year officials from the Northern Lighthouse Board visited the island to make sure that the facilities were maintained to high standards, inspecting the cleanliness of the houses thoroughly. Ruth Dickson's mother's disliked these visits:
"She bitterly resented these twice annual inspection days, terming them an invasion of the privacy of her home. Most of the women enjoyed the mighty preparatory turnouts, shining and polishing, washing and ironing as they vied with each other; their goal to have the brightest of crisp curtains, the most glowing appointments and the shiniest floors. Not to mention the whitest hearth and the blackest fireplace! Our mother always kept us spotless and the house clean, but she believed that time taken to recite poetry, tell stories and sing songs was of greater importance than being a slave to a white hearth soiled with coal dust or the gleam of brass fixtures. Certainly we appreciated it more."
It is said that the inspectors wore white gloves. Their habit was to reach up to the small shelf over the front door lintel and see if there was any dust on their gloves. Naturally, it soon became the first place to be cleaned.
Parties on the island were specially remembered by neighbours, who sometimes came by foot across the hills to attend, from as far as Ardalanish, several miles across rough hills. They took place every month when the keepers came off duty.
"During the war there was a blackout on, and we couldn't use a match or a torch.... It was different to what we were normally used to. There was a piper living at Fidden then, and he would play for some of the dances. At one point they stopped the dance and everybody went into the radio room. That was the appointed time for speaking to the men at Dhu Heartach and Skerryvore." (Attie McKechnie and Calum Campbell, then from Ardalanish)
On the way back from the party, they had to stopover at Knockvologan as it was too dark to see where they were going.
For Erraid children there was freedom to roam and play outside school hours. It was not all idyllic, however; several tragedies and near tragedies occurred. In 1887, Robert Christie, the four year old son of light keeper David Christie, died at Erraid of the croup (Parish Death Register). In 1926, light keeper James Lees and his wife adopted a child. In 1935, Mr. Lees sent this sad letter to the NLB:
"Sir, I deeply regret to inform you that my little boy was accidentally drowned this morning. He was playing with the other children and as far as we know fell in the water. The doctor. arrived as soon as possible but could only (tell) us that he was dead." (Secretary's Correspondence, October 1935)
Helen Black recalls:
"The quarry was not in use in our time. The hut and blasting equipment were demolished after some of the children had a very narrow escape. Being children, a fire had been lit, which found an old fuse - fortunately immediately after all the children had been called home for lunch by my father. Afterwards the quarry was out of bounds, and everything suspicious removed."
Life for adults also had hazards. In 1934 there was an accident at Skerryvore.
"On 2/1/34, when Thomson, Munro and Budge were getting ready for the relief, Munro was washed down the rocks and managed to scramble back, but Budge, who was washed into the sea, had his ankle caught in the north mooring rope of the derrick. Munro and Thomson were able to haul him to safety and convey him to the lighthouse. Owing to stormy weather the Hesperus was unable to make the relief until 15/1/34, and during this time Budge received medical advice from Earraid by wireless. On 15/1/34, the Hesperus conveyed Budge to Oban, landing Thomson and Munro at Earraid. Thomson and Munro were allowed an extra fortnight ashore. Great public interest was taken in the attempts of the Hesperus to relieve the rock." (NLB Memorandum, January, 1934)
"Lighthouse keepers' wives, even today, who have memories of a remote station such as Earraid, will talk at length about the terrors of illness in such places and of the wonderful bonds created amongst families who often had only each other to count on for help in times of desperate trouble or serious accident." (Allardyce and Hood, p. 32)
Undoubtedly, this co-operation was the norm for much of the lighthouse keeper community's time. The onset of another dimension, 'Hell Alley' occurred just after the second world war and apparently developed from what seem trivial complaints into a major conflict in which the Northern Lighthouse Board's representatives seemed out of their depth, court action was threatened, and keepers were transferred from Erraid.
In 1945, the principal keeper of Dubh Artach complained to the Northern Lighthouse Board that the keepers of Dubh Artach were being expected to carry out all the maintenance work on Erraid during their weeks ashore, while Skerryvore keepers did nothing. It appears that, since the Dubh Artach keepers were there first, pride of possession had been assumed; they often gave the impression that they wanted to have greater responsibility for, and thus greater control over, maintenance and perhaps life on the street. The Board responded by officially clarifying that maintenance duties were to be shared equally and in rotation.
Two years later, there was a conflict with the MacDonalds, neighbours at Fidden. The latter accused the islanders of using Fidden grazing lands as a right of way, even erecting stiles to allow themselves to cross protected areas. They had broken the fence. Mr. McDonald asked the Board to pay for the repairs and to remind their people that the road only was to be used for access to the jetty. On investigation, the Board discovered that there was a bull free on Fidden which terrorised the Erraid folk and was the reason they had cut across another area. In the meantime, the Erradians called the police about the bull without previously discussing it with its owner. This exacerbated bad feeling. In the end, the farmers of Fidden agreed to control the bull; the Board agreed to remove the stile and pay for the repair of the fence.
In 1948, relations on the island become tense. After several complaints, the Board assigned an Assistant Superintendent to visit the island and investigate. The following extracts from Mr. Macaulay's reports illustrate how apparently small disagreements could escalate. He, himself, adopts a rather patronising tone:
Dr. Leslie Lyall was the physician under contract to attend to health needs on the island. He had his own complaints, feeling he was not paid enough and was called out to the island too often on trifling matters. He weighed into the situation with a sarcastic letter to his employers, expanding the number of characters involved...
The Keepers themselves began to take part. John MacLeod wrote to the Secretary of the Board in April, complaining that Mrs. Mathieson had seriously offended him and his wife by accusing his children of spilling a bucket on the path. She had called her husband on the Rock by radio and said she thought of calling the Police. In Mr. MacLeod's opinion, Mrs. Mathieson and Mrs. Mackenzie were working together to cause trouble. His wife, who had just given birth, was so upset that she had to be put to bed. Mrs. Mathieson had also said the children were imbeciles and accused Mr. MacLeod of being responsible for the shortage of paraffin at the Shore Station. Something must be done by the Board to improve the situation...
Mr. Salthouse followed up with a similar letter. Since he was on the Rock and,
"...as I cannot meet Mathieson personally, I am demanding an apology from Mathieson to my wife through you."
Assistant lighthouse keeper Black continued, submitting a detailed list of offences that the children of Dubh Artach families were supposed to have committed.
Mr. Macaulay made a second visit, noting that both women and men were deeply involved in the altercation:
"The two Principals and 3rd Assistant Black are being opposed by Macleod and Fawns, 1st and 2nd Assistants at Dhu Heartach, also Salthouse and Cameron, 1st and 2nd Assistants at Skerryvore."
He mentions with relief that MacLeod was soon to be transferred. He had advised the residents to speak first to the parents if the children misbehave, then call in the police if necessary, to maintain order at the Station.
The keepers' wives addressed their husband's employers directly. Martha Salthouse, Elsie MacLeod and Nan Cameron wrote to the Board after the latest visit by Mr. Macaulay, during which he evidently read extracts of Mr. Black's accusations to them. They asserted that their children were either in school or off the island when the principal offences took place. Mr. Black was deliberately lying and they demanded an apology.
Mrs. Black proposed to take legal action against Mrs. Cameron, Mrs. Salthouse and Mrs. MacLeod for slandering her husband publicly on the Station Radio. He supported that action. He had investigated children's 'alibis' and found them fictitious!
"The malicious propaganda engineered by the Salthouses and their confederates, have gone too far and I am definitely not going to put up with any more of it. When women and children cannot go outside their own doors without being abused and attacked it is, in my opinion, time to get the protection which is afforded to every British citizen, and as the Office appears to condone these acts of violence to person and property, I intend to ask for Police protection for my wife and family before I leave for the Rock next relief." (Secretary's Correspondence)
In yet another visit Macaulay interviewed everyone, even the men on Skerryvore, and delivered a strict dressing down to principal keeper Mackenzie:
"It was clear to me that the annoyance complained of was very real, and that the children had got out of hand; this in my opinion is due to the inability of the respective parents to live at peace with one another. The youngsters, quick to sense the state of unrest, appear to take sides and embark on a sort of warfare on their own account; rival gangs are formed, resulting in fighting, attacking each other with pieces of coal, stones and other missiles. The children of one gang will also molest, and take delight in annoying the parents of their rivals in a variety of ways. It is to be noted that each of the parents in turn proclaimed the innocence of their own offspring, and denounced other families as the culprits."
Mr. Macaulay reprimanded all the participants severely, including the children.
"I also reproved Mrs. Salthouse for the discord between the Shore and Rock Stations, and made it clear to her, and all others at Earraid, that for the next 2 months women are forbidden to use the wireless telephone; any messages they may desire to pass to their husbands must be transmitted only by the Keeper whose duty it is to operate the wireless telephone." (Secretary's Correspondence)
This saga only came to an end when three keepers, Mr. MacLeod, Mr. Mackenzie and Mr. Black were transferred to other assignments. However, it may had had dramatic repercussions. Four years later, the shore station was moved to Oban. While nothing is stated explicitly, it is likely that this incident influenced the decision to terminate the lighthouse community on Erraid.
Calum Campbell, whose family was farming at Ardalanish, had been living for a year and a half with his wife, Ena, at Knockvologan farm. When Fidden came on the market they bought it and moved down. He and his son, Jimmy and his wife, Christine, have always taken an interest in events on Erraid.
Calum recalls that when it came time for the Keeper's families to leave,
"They were pleased to get off of Erraid. But when they went away, they were wishing they were back. Because when they were in Erraid they could do a lot of fishing, but when they went to Oban there was nothing like that. The kids were always down to the shops, so their hands were in their pockets all the time. Many a time they wished they were back on Erraid. In fact, they're still coming down to see where they used to be in the old days."
When the Campbells bought Fidden Farm from the Argyll Estate, it no longer included the Isle of Erraid. The island was sold separately to Hamish Dawson-Bowman, a businessman from the Glasgow area, and his wife Doris, who for years had been visiting Iona. His son, Michael, tells us,
"The cottages on Erraid … came on the market initially as individual lots but a deal was concluded for the entire island (including the 26 'pendicle' islets) and the (then) MacGillivray cottage for which the annual rent —set by the Cotters' Tenancy Act— was five shillings per annum! The only permanent residents then on the island were Duncan MacGillivray and his sister Catherine ('Katie')."
Duncan soon left, though he always returned for a time in the summer. He used to come up to the 'Street' daily to check the post-box and row over with any letters to meet the postman cycling over from Fionnphort.
The new owners of Erraid found the buildings in perfect condition. Remnants of the Lighthouse days were still to be seen. There were remains of the giant derrick which straddled the pier and paraffin lamps sat in corners. An instruction sheet was still on the wall in the old schoolroom, detailing how the school was to be cleaned and maintained.
Even though the Dawson-Bowmans intended to use the island as a summer residence, they set about furnishing the cottages and getting to know the neighbours.
One of the major pastimes for the Bowmans in summer was fishing:
"Things were different then; the sun shone every day — or so it appeared — there were never less than 12 lobsters in a weighted wicker laundry basket off the end of the pier; salmon and sea trout were in abundance (110 in one day from the splash net set 100 yards from the pier). Duncan taught us everything he knew about seamanship and fishing, including how to set the splash net between Erraid and 'Telegraph Island' where the telegraph pole used to be on the Fidden side. Splash netting was carried out at night with the tide nearly ebb. It involved walking on land up the fresh water burn which flows down below Cuille a Bhaille, then splashing down the burn scaring any fish into the waiting net. The pitch darkness sometimes concealed nasty surprises in the net, including dogfish, conger eel and spike-finned mullet. After several years of these 'orchestral manoeuvres in the dark', father suggested that it would be much more civilised to do it during daylight hours, which suggestion was greeted with absolute horror by Duncan who tried to dissuade us and made himself very scarce on each occasion we tried it. In fact it was equally as successful and altogether more pleasurable and it later transpired that the custom of doing it at night originated in the days when 'the Duke' had the fishing rights — subsequently transferred as part of the Title of the property (unbeknown to Duncan!)." (Michael Dawson Bowman)
Michael remembers those summer visits as times of great adventure.
"Holidays for my friends and myself were nothing short of Paradise and we enjoyed enormous freedom from the earliest age. We were all accomplished drivers by the age of 11, having learned to drive in a landrover in the Narrows and we delighted in driving to Fionnphort to do the shopping (the road was private in those days). On one occasion we stripped the landrover of everything that was removable, including hood, doors, windscreen, tailgate, etc. That night the heavens opened and, in the middle of the deluge in the early hours of the morning, my parents were awakened by a scratching on the window, accompanied by dreadful moaning noises, which, on investigation with a hurricane lamp, turned out to be Murdo the handyman, now collapsed having crawled from his cottage with severe appendicitis, (later diagnosed as peritonitis). It was too stormy for the boat; the tide was well into the estuary and flooding but there was a chance we might just make it in the landrover. I was delegated to fetch the landrover, barely recognisable in its stripped down state... Poor old Murdo was laid out on a sodden mattress in the back and covered with oilskins, being attended to by the womenfolk, moaning continuously; and all the while the wind howling, the rain coming down relentlessly and the water at floor level in the landrover. Quite how we made it to the waiting ambulance at the Fidden jetty we will never know "
The resulting operation, at Oban, was successful.
Doris Dawson Bowman wrote a children's book set on Erraid, 'The Island', under the pseudonym, 'Jane Erraid'. It was published in 1953. The story tells of the hair-raising escapades of a young Indian boy who spends a summer holiday on the island. It was the only book which Doris Dawson-Bowman wrote. She sent a copy of the book to the Queen and received a letter from the Queen's lady in waiting thanking her on the Queen's behalf...
During the Dawson-Bowman ownership, Erraid was still used primarily for sheep grazing. When it was part of Fidden Farm, the sheep on the island had been tended together with those on Mull, now a separate shepherd was required. A succession of resident shepherds were also caretakers of the island during the winter months. Hugh Cameron had this position for a time, and he and his wife Bella lived in Pier Cottage for two years before buying the farm at Knockvologan and moving up there. Their daughter, Anne, was born on the island in 1953. His son, John, is still responsible for the Erraid sheep at the time of writing.
In this period the cottages were mainly used for summer holiday lets and visits. A variety of people passed through, including friends of the Dawson-Bowman family and others who responded to advertisements in The Times newspaper, such as the author and adventurer, W.H. Murray and his wife Anne. Many visitors returned year after year, drawn to the special charm of Erraid and the Ross of Mull. The actor, David Duchovny of 'X-Files' fame, told an interviewer:
"I had my 10th birthday in the Hebrides and it was beautiful. I can remember the weather changing dramatically and seeing seals. It was a beautiful island called Erraid, near Mull, owned by a man who worked with my uncle. He also owned all the little outcroppings around the island. My brother, who was four years older, convinced me he was going to give me an island for my birthday. I was so excited because, at 10, the idea of being a landowner, even if it was little more than a pebble in the Hebrides, was so exciting. Then my birthday came and we had a celebration. I was ready to receive my island — and he gave me 10 shillings!" (The Sunday Post, June 18, 2000)
The regime of summer occupancy continued for three decades. In 1971, the Dawson-Bowmans reluctantly put Erraid up for sale. Alan Cowell, an English businessman, purchased Erraid with a view to using the street also for summer holiday lets. For the most part, the Cowells used one of the cottages while the Dawson-Bowmans and other visitors continued to rent the others. The Cowells were content to visit for sedate summer holidays, leaving the care of the sheep to Hugh Cameron, and that of the cottages to a resident caretaker. They did contribute financially to the installation of electric power to the area, ending the era of paraffin and gas lighting, a major change.
But the seasonal occupation of most of the cottages meant that damp accumulated in the winter months and the interiors slowly deteriorated. After six years, the Cowells placed Erraid on the market again. It was sold to the Van der Sluis family. Their story and that of the arrangements they made for the island to be continuously occupied again is recounted in the next chapter.
Nan McGilivray first visited the island in the 1950s. She recalls that the house at that time was 'like something preserved as a museum', with no electricity or hot water and an open fire for cooking. Yet she found her many visits to Erraid to be very comfortable. The cottage was warm, and Kate McGilivray would prepare large meals complete with home baking, venison, fish and shellfish. They spent days out in the boats or walking on the island, making it an idyllic holiday spot.
In 1959, a tragedy struck the McGilivray family. On June 19, Duncan McGilivray's wife, Jeannie, who was somewhat overweight, wanted to return home after a holiday on the island. She was to be transported over to Fidden by Murdo Mackay, the 51 year old shepherd and caretaker. At the foot of the pier steps, she stepped into the boat and tipped it, knocking her into the water. Murdo tried to pull her out, but she was too heavy, and he also fell in. As both were unable to swim, they drowned. Calum Campbell went over in his own boat to help retrieve the bodies after a desperate phone call from Ella Horsey. The news of the tragedy spread rapidly and it is well remembered on the Ross of Mull.
Among longer term residents was a woman named Ella Horsey, a medium, who was drawn to Erraid's wild landscape. She lived in the combined houses one and two for seven years between 1952 to 1960, often all year round.
"Ella Horsey stayed with Miss Bruce who had the large white house towards the north end of Iona. One day she saw 'tongues of fire' over Erraid and KNEW it was her 'lodestar'. She wore (Hamish Dawson Bowman) down with her importunity until he finally agreed to sell her two cottages." (Doris Dawson-Bowman)
In 1967, Ella Horsey wrote a book, 'Erraid, Seven Years on a Scottish Islet'. Long out of print, it recounts her experiences on the island and the frequent visits away for seances with a circle of noted British mediums. Sadly, it gives little account of the many writings she herself received from the 'other side' during the period, and any more private records of her communications have not been available for this book. At the very beginning of her stay, while her house on the street was being made ready, she lived at the Croft with Katie McGilivray, but not all was complete when she moved in:
"The winter of 1952-3 was indeed somewhat grim... The Calor gas cooker had not yet arrived, and the antiquated cooking stove, which must have dated from the time the cottages were first inhabited, invariably refused to light at my first attempt, and often had to be re-lit several times. Then it either sulked or blazed furiously, so that my food was underdone or burnt. Coal had to be carried in from an alleyway at the far end of the block, though for part of the time I lived in Erraid I had help with this. Drinking water came not far from the quay, but I was lucky in having a large rainwater tank outside each cottage. There was no running water and only kettles for hot water until, some months later, I had a Rayburn cooker put in, with a boiler at one side. This was filled with pails from the tank outside the kitchen back door, quite a distance with two steps en route. The hot water had to be carried about as far to the old oil store which was to be my bathroom." (Horsey, p. 23)
There is an account about the arrival of the Rayburn stove Ella mentions:
"It was outside on the street with a sheet draped over it. Bella's sister's husband came to give a hand moving it into the house. There were two bolts on either side as we lifted the crate lid off, and there was straw inside. There were two rats that came out and went right into the garden. Well, we got it in and rolled into position. I said I'd thought that we'd have to get more help, that we wouldn't manage just the two of us. 'Oh', she said, 'my father was there, he was helping you.'" (Hugh and Bella Cameron.)
Bella added, "That must have been him in the box."
In addition to daily tasks, Ella tried to find the time to communicate with her spirit guides, but found that the adjustments she needed to make to the hard climate were a challenge:
"There were certainly moments during that first winter in Erraid when my heart was inclined to fail. Gales continued uninterruptedly for days on end, rain lashed the windows, and sea, sky and land remained a uniform leaden colour. I wondered sometimes if this were indeed the life the invisibles intended me to lead. I was too tired in the evenings to give the psychic power for co-operative writing, or if I did happen to feel sufficiently relaxed to attempt sitting I was inclined to doubt the result and to impute it entirely to the working of my own mind. Then would come another golden day, slipped in amongst the gloomy weeks, and I would down tools once more and allow Nature to sing another of her wonderful songs." (p. 24)
Ella established a spiritual regime in the end. Ena Campbell would go over to visit Ella, and find the table set out for tea. But, "If you thought you were going to have a peach you were mistaken. It wasn't for you at all. It was for the fairies."
In spite of scepticism by local people, Ella Horsey was a deeply spiritual person and the fact that she was so strongly drawn to Erraid and that she endured for so long what was obviously a very difficult experience for her, draws attention to an aspect of Erraid that becomes quite central in the next chapter — its spiritual dimension. In one of the few inner messages that she does write of in her book, Ella quotes words from one of her 'spirit guides', St. Columba himself, about her decision to live on Erraid:
"Colum went on to tell us that he and others among the White Brethren welcomed our coming to 'this Iona territory' and that they had long wished us to be there together. 'Now we seek to build up a volume of power, springing as it were, from ancient roots. Gradually you will find this power growing, and you will recognise yourselves as participating in an enterprise the magnitude of which you had never guessed.'" (Horsey, p. 28)
This spiritual connection was maintained in a different way by Christine Gibson, and by the members of the Findhorn Community who arrived in 1978.
Ella Horsey had a dinghy built which served the Erraid community for many years, the boat known as Ella. The enclosed garden beside house number one, Ella's Garden, is also named for Ms. Horsey.
By the early 1960's, another family arrived to stay on Erraid. Tony and Christine Gibson and their three children had travelled up from London to visit Iona for several years and wanted to establish a place to live in the area. They were attracted to the little row of cottages on Erraid that could be seen from Iona. Tony and daughter Judy, then about 10 years old, walked from Fionnphort to Fidden to have a closer look. They saw a 'peasant woman' shaking a blanket out down by the pier, but there was no way over to investigate. The next year they tried again, swimming across to set foot on Erraid for the first time. There they met Hamish Dawson-Bowman, and discovered that the 'peasant woman' was his stylish wife!
The following year the Gibsons arranged to rent house no. 1, Ella's old cottage. But when Kate McGilivray died in 1965, the Croft house was offered to them on a 10 year lease. The family settled in to the cottage and began to fix it up during summer visits. Seeing the Gibsons' love for the croft, Hamish promised that if the island was ever sold, the Gibsons could have first right of refusal on it.
In 1971, the family purchased the Croft house and a small plot of land surrounding it. In fact, the Gibsons were interested in buying the whole of the island, with a vision of turning it into a place where youngsters from Oban could come to experience rural life in the company of youngsters from Mull. Before financing could be arranged, however, the Dawson-Bowmans had sold Erraid to the Cowells.
In the succeeding years, the connection of the Gibson family to Erraid became more and more intimate, most especially through Christine Gibson. She developed and worked a fine garden close to the croft, enlisting all the family in drainage projects and bed preparation. She began to win prizes for her vegetables at the local show. At about the same time as the Dutch bought Erraid, Christine moved permanently to the island. The rest of the family lived in urban England. Christine had had enough of that lifestyle. Her responsibilities for bringing up a young family were past and her heart was on Erraid. She felt that her husband, her children and her grandchildren could survive in their busy lives, but it was the island for her:
"You have to work much harder in suburbia to carve something out for yourself. You do not want to spend your time doing coffee mornings and things like that. Whereas here…I just like getting my fingers dirty and doing budging jobs trying to find out how to mend the gate and how the hinge is fixed. I find Erraid restful." (Christine Gibson, 1998)
Christine Gibson became the first person to live full time on the island for an extended period since Ella and Katie McGilivray. Gradually, she became very special to Erraid and to everyone else who lived on it. Christine professed no religion. She was not a medium, and had no interest in 'channelling' the words of energetic beings. She did not meditate. Nevertheless, she became identified with the island and was a sort of 'matriarch', embodying its spirit.
The rest of the family gathered around her whenever possible; in summer holidays — on long weekends. When they came, the house was warm and tended, stocked up and welcoming, a home from home. Over the years, the croft was, bit by bit, enlarged and improved.
"Every person who has ever come here has become part of the fabric. There's a sort of involvement, which is really nice, around the grandsons because they have now become part of the fabric. (points to the ceiling), "That's Tom's work," (points to the door), "that's Sam's work." (Tony Gibson)
Thomas Gibson adds,
"It's become like a right of passage, coming to work on the house."
The pace of renovation was slow, but steady; materials for building had to be ordered from Oban; when they arrived at Fidden, they had to wait for tides low enough for a tractor-trailer to transport them to the croft.
As members of the Findhorn Foundation moved to Erraid and began to build a community on the street, Christine Gibson became increasingly important to them. Some people described her as the island 'grandmother', others as a matriarch, but she was more than that. As community members came and went, she was a source of stability and continuity of memory for the island as a whole:
"Christine Gibson was a wonderful old eccentric. She was an intellectual... We would go down there and have a glass of whisky with her. When Bunessan would do pantomimes at Christmas she would write them. She was literate, left wing, clever and intelligent." (Richard Mark Coates)
"She was a huge feature in our daily lives. Especially with the children. The parents on child duty would regularly take walks down to the Croft to visit." (Mari Hollander)
"When I first arrived here I was told of this elderly woman who lived down at the Croft who 'vetted' everyone who wanted to come here and be a member. Long before I had my chats with the other members, I went down and introduced myself. She seemed a venerable old woman, full of wisdom. She knew everybody's story on the street. Sometimes she offered advice, a lot of the time she listened. Christine was many people's surrogate grandma. She became a very special friend to me.... Even though she died two and a half years ago, I still feel her presence." (Roger Thorner)
Judy Gibson, her daughter says that the connection with the Findhorn Group was important for her mother as well. "For her it was like one ongoing soap opera. It kept her young at heart. And she had an important role to play for many people living there. She could give counsel, and listen. People kept coming back to see her even after they left the island."
Christine herself remarked,
"Over the years one began to see the meaning of what the group or community is and you notice this especially when someone leaves after a time... that it was short term, there would always be coming and going and rebuilding of a group. As different people came and left, it fascinated me to see how the vacuum when someone left was filled. How if a strong character left, someone usually was perhaps not as strong, but began to grow and fill that (role). And you realised that he or she had been in that person's shadow and at last had for themselves been able to ... grow. It was absolutely fascinating, because the group is organic."
For her birthday and again at Christmas, she always organised a small party for the community on the street. It became a ritual. After a meal, people would play silly party games. It was not the superficial activity, but Christine's presence that was important. She was assessing, welcoming, or suspending judgement on those present. Did they fit on Erraid?
The present author knew Christine for more than 7 years, and rarely missed a week without visiting her, even when I left the island to live on Mull. She was no mystic and not even a dreamer; she was a great reader and had a sharp intellect. She was never sentimental. She also enjoyed a drink and smoked steadily. When, in Australia, I was e-mailed that the lung cancer she was eventually diagnosed with was irreversible, I phoned her, a month before her death.
"You know it's those cigarettes!", I said. "I enjoyed every one", she replied.
To me, she was everything the quotations from community members have described. Her presence on Erraid encompassed more than the community on the street, though. She became identified with the island, and, I believe, embodied it.
Christine lived at the Croft for over twenty years. In December, 1999, she died, in exactly the manner she wished, lying in her own bed with family and friends in attendance. She was buried behind the house, below a rock facing it, with her name and the date carved into it. In the last period, when the cancer that killed her had largely immobilised her, members of the community supported her to be able to stay on the island till the last. Visiting her grave when I returned from Australia, I had no doubt that some aspect of her was still present, as Roger Thorner also avers above. Perhaps it will still be, when even the granite cottages have crumbled to ruin.
At the time of writing (2005), Christine's grandchildren are in their teens and come and visit the croft, with its beautiful extended sun room and living kitchen, built after Christine's death, on their own. No doubt their own children will do so in the future.
Judy Gibson says,
"The Croft is a deep part of the family now. It keeps the family connected. Everybody is happy to come here and it's a place they can get together with friends and relatives. We're really lucky. This is a phenomenal place to have access to."
She dreams of some day following in her mother's footsteps and moving to the island permanently...