A long time ago, but yesterday too. Rain On My Window (Tears in My Eyes) will be an ongoing tale of my early memories of life shared by my younger brother David on Whitehall Farm in Stronsay, Orkney, of our childhood on a working farm in the 1930s before we lost our innocence.
No 88. KELP MAKING.
Kelp making was one of our pre-War tasks in Stronsay, though it had a very long history going back to 1719 when James Fea of Whitehall began the Industry in Stronsay. It provided iodine, potash and soda used in glass and soap manufacture, and was at times in short supply due to various American and French Wars. The Industry finally ended just prewar, about 1937 I think.
Kelp was produced by burning dried seaweed in stone lined pits above the beach. Gathered at low tide, or thrown up by storm, the seaweed was first spread and dried on low open stone dykes to be ready for the kilns. The burning was a slow smoky process taking about two days for a full kiln with constant replenishing.
There were many crofters in Rousam who made a bit of their living by burning kelp when they could. Though no longer then living at Rousam, our Father during the First War wrote a poem in 1914 while stationed in Stronsay with 20 different crofters mentioned in Rousam. Not all would be kelpers. The work would go on all summer as other work allowed, fitting in with farm work and the herring fishing season. Even if the men were down in the Village carting herring or employed in other work the croft women would be gathering sea weed for kelp burning as available, carrying it laboriously above the beach.
We looked out from Whitehall down to the Ness, part of the farm anyway, and saw the spirals of heavy acrid grey-white smoke drifting skywards. I remember going down to the Ness with our father who was oversman for the kelp workers. He weighed the finished product, checked that no stones were included, kept order where needed, determined if some one had strayed onto someone elses stint, marked by this rock or that. I do not know if stints were changed or not, I do not think it was a free for all but each would have his own drying dykes and his own kiln pit. Certainly when the sea weed was in it had to be snatched before the next high tide took it out again. Wet heavy material to work with, cold too.
The crusted burnt kelp ash was broken up, raked over and then carted to store to be ready for shipping at the end of the season. Normally that would be late in August as from Rousam in 1900. Then harvest and wetter weather would put a stop to kelp work, the men returning each to their own harvests.
Father told us how, when he was young, they did the same kelping at Rousam as at Whitehall, the work being done by the many crofters on Rousam Head and their wives. The eventual buyer could have been the Balfour Estate who owned much of Stronsay. Our grandfather shipped kelp from Rousam on Sat. 21st and Mon. 23rd August 1896, possibly onto a small coaster going round the various Islands collecting whatever kelp they had. Though the Diary does not state, our Grandfather must have been oversman for the whole of Rousam Head, collecting each man’s work, weighing and storing it at Rousam for eventual shipping.
The season must have started early as in 1896 Rousam was in the Diary “Apr 14 thur Carting ware to kelpers am - Carting ware to land pm.”
So with carts and men available now and then our grandfather David was carting kelp for others in the morning of that day and in the afternoon carting kelp onto his own fields for fertiliser. Sanday lying to our North was also a good kelp Island with extensive beaches, and Patrick Fea of Whitehall and of Stove in Sanday left a wonderful diary dating from1766 to his death in 1796, now edited by W.S.Hewison and published.
The shallow seas around the North Isles were excellent sources of seaweed, washing up on the shores after storm, good holding beaches. At its peak Orkney was exporting 3,000 tons of kelp per year during the boom years lasting from 1780 to 1830. Kelp was used in the making of glass, dyes and soap in the north-east of England, particularly in Newcastle. It brought much money to the landowners, some of which was invested in farm improvements. It also led to two kelp wars in Stronsay as sea weed had traditionally been carted onto the land as fertiliser. Without it the crops were the poorer. Kelp pits can still be seen at many places round the shore in Stronsay, particularly where we were concerned on part of Whitehall Farm at Grice Ness behind Whitehall Village, also much along the beaches on neighbouring Huip Farm owned by our brother David for a few years before he went to Australia.
The Napoleonic War gave impetus to kelp when imports from the Baltic were suspended and British Industry had to replace it. In Caithness there was kelp burning along the shores from Castlehill to Murkle Point, but the Orkneys had so many good beaches. Kelp making is an emotive subject going back many years, tales of Landlords making big money and their tenants being impoverished by having to burn the sea weed that they had previously used to fertilise their fields, severely reducing their grain yields.
Stronsay had well documented Kelp Wars, two at least, when the tenants rebelled at having their seaweed fertiliser burnt and their crops ruined, all to line the pocket of their landlord.
William Tait at the Bay, Stronsay from 1907 to 1919, recorded in 1909 carting ware that year on 20 days onto the land, mostly from December through to April. He made no mention of burning ware for kelp himself but he did cart kelp to the pier for shipping from Aug 20th to 26th 1909 for various people, mostly from Rousam Head.
aug 20 frid Draining all day - put 2 loads of kelp to pier.
aug 21 sat Took in 3 loads of hay, opening drains & put 1 load of kelp to pier for J.Scott a.m. 2 loads kelp from Lodge to pier p.m. - fine day
aug 25 wed Put 4 loads Kelp to pier for A. Moodie, Grind - got home a stirk from Eday -
aug 26 thur Put 3 loads kelp to pier for A. Moodie, Grind [Rousam Head]
So it appears that August 20th to 28th would have been the regular time for exporting kelp from the various North Isles to Newcastle.
However, 1898. July 11 mon Shipping Kelp all day. Got home 5 tons coal
So there were other shipping days than late August.
But, like so many other cottage industries that once sustained the Countryside, the Kelp Industry is now long gone.
Saturday, 5 March 2011
Friday, 25 February 2011
Friday, 18 February 2011
No 87. ORKNEY CHAIRS.
No 81. THE MANY USES OF STRAW.
In days of old straw was much used in Orkney for furniture, baskets, cassies for carrying peats or dung or grain, flackies to put over the backs of horses to pad them from the clibber, a wooden frame like a saddle from which a cassie could be carried either side. Flackies could also do service as rudimentary doors. No doubt Caithness had cassies too to carry grain to Staxigoe for shipping to Norway among other countries. As Aneas Bayne A.M. wrote about Caithness in 1734:-
The Trade of export of the Shire of Caithness consists mostly in Corns, wherof they export in any good year 16,000 Bolls at the Ports of Thurso, viz:- Scrabster Road, a small way West of the Town and at the River mouth, and at Staxigoe Harbour near the Town of Wick, half meal, half bear. They likewise transport a great deal of victuall to Strathnaver in Sutherland !! .
Without carts or roads in Caithness such grain was carried on the backs of the uniquitious pack horse. Lines of them tied head of one to tail of the horse in front were usual. Hence the meaning of the phrase nose to tail!!
For furniture straw was used for the now much sought after Orkney Chairs, but such chairs were pretty universal at one time. Mostly home-made by the men at the peat fire during the long dark winter nights.
At the Central School we were taught the rudiments of working straw, in my case a straw basket. The straw basket Nettie and I made in 1954 is still very functional on my visits to the superstores in Thurso. It is only 57 years old. We could and shoud be making. more use of our natural resources !!
An Orkney Chair was made as a wedding present for our grandfather David Pottinger, then of Upper Stove, Deerness, on his marriage to Elizabeth Tait of Campston on 19th August 1880. That event was the very first entry in William Tait’s Diaries. William was Elizabeth’s younger brother, aged 19 at the time. That chair is still at Greenland Mains with brother Hamish, as good as new, well, almost.
The very first entry in the Diaries begun in 1880 was:-
Aug 16 mon At Kirkwall with 5 sheep to G. Macgror. sold at £7.7.
Aug 17 tues At Lammas Market [ Kirkwall ] and bought a foal for £6.
Aug 18 wed At Cattle Show - preparing barn for wedding [ at Campston]
Aug 19 thur Elizabeth married this night - very fine night Aug 20 frid At Kirkwall with a cart with cussins from Caithness
Aug 21 sat At Kirkwall with three Carts with seats.
An Orkney Chair is a treasure much sought after, both at home and abroad. Usually a long waiting list of over a year to get one made. It is still a craft in Orkney with very expensive straw chairs yet being made by Robert H.Towers near Kirkwalll. His site is on the internet, well worth a look if only for educational purposes.
I mention him in passing because of his Stronsay connections. His grand father Tom Towers re-roofed the feeders’ byre at Whitehall with Welsh Slate for my father, working along with Tom Anderson, a mason, both knacky men. We watched them at work with admiration.
Gloy was the name used for oat straw when cleaned and ready for making baskets or chairs. To get the straw ready for making a chair or a basket a knocking stane was used in the barn. This was a flat flagstone built into the inside of the wall about 4 feet off the floor, projecting about six inches from the wall, and about two feet wide. We had one at Whitehall. It was called variously a knocking stane, a shakin stane, a gloy stane.
A handful of unthrashed straw from a sheaf of bright clean neepland oats was held tightly and the head end struck down on the stone, knocking off the grain and the chaff, a rough thrashing. The straw had to be kept as straight as possible. The leaves were then stripped from the stalk, the head end trimmed, and the resulting new-cleaned straw made up in tidy bundles was the gloy we used to make straw baskets at school. And by many a knacky man to make Orkney chairs.
And the same technique of clean straw is still used though I would think the old knocking stane is no longer in use.
I remember an Orkney Chair being made by Ould Pat Shearer, retired by my time from being one of our grandfather’s workers at Whitehall. He began with making the wooden frame of the chair in the farm workshop. A labour of love I think, but, as they say, he was “good wae his hands”. Worth watching the effortless way a skilled man did a job. And still is!!
There are tales in treeless Orkney of drift wood gathered from the beach being used to make a chair and I have no doubt it was so. I have seen a chair so made but it was not a straw backed one. They waste nothing across the Pentland!!
At school we had to hand make a special cord for the coming task of making a basket, made with imported raffia. We went down to the shore at Mill Bay to the sand dunes and gathered some specially hard Marram grass to add to the cord. Gave it a really hard wearing centre, good enough for 130 years in the case of our grandparents chair. Take some raffia, twist it right handed into a continuous double cord, cross it over left handed to make a self supporting two ply cord. Feed in a small amount of Marram as you go along for extra strength. Hard and strong and quite attractive, a skill on its own. Took some time and practice to get proficient at it, and we had to make most ot it at home.
When making the basket or the Orkney Chair the gloy was fed on the run in small but continuous amounts into the band being stitched. Your measure was just the amount that fitted confortably into your closed hand, the feel of it dictated when more was needed. .
The butt end of the straw was put into the centre of the band as we went along, leaving the finer and thinner upper ends of the straw to be seen from the outside, giving an attractive neat finish. The stitching was always done with a six inch sail maker’s needle, curved at the outer end, a big eye for the cord. We used a similar needle for stitching the wool bags.
The Orkney Chair could be simple but could be very sophisticated indeed. There are some for sale on the internet by a maker in Orkney and the range is azazing. The usual wood for the chair was clean-grained pine. Pitch Pine was also a beautiful wood for doors and shutters in older houses. Isauld House, now over 200 years old, had a good share once the paints and varnishes of long ago had been cleaned off to find the superb wood below.
Pine was much used for Orkney Chairs. Making one was a slow task, though the finished chair was a work of art. It was rare to come into any house in my early days in Stronsay and not find at least one if not more. The main enemy of Orkney chairs was woodworm, all too common in the moist climate of Orkney.
The range of chairs available from one maker uses Sapele wood from Africa as well as Pine. A very beautiful nice coloured fine grained wood, it adds about £50 to the price but when you are payng well over £1,000 for the more ornate chairs what’s £50.
Orkney Chairs ranged from the basic chair to ones with a drawer, usually front opening, but sometimes side so you could open it without getting off the chair. There was a granny chair that had a straw hood right over the top, very good to keep draughts off your neck!
In days of old straw was much used in Orkney for furniture, baskets, cassies for carrying peats or dung or grain, flackies to put over the backs of horses to pad them from the clibber, a wooden frame like a saddle from which a cassie could be carried either side. Flackies could also do service as rudimentary doors. No doubt Caithness had cassies too to carry grain to Staxigoe for shipping to Norway among other countries. As Aneas Bayne A.M. wrote about Caithness in 1734:-
The Trade of export of the Shire of Caithness consists mostly in Corns, wherof they export in any good year 16,000 Bolls at the Ports of Thurso, viz:- Scrabster Road, a small way West of the Town and at the River mouth, and at Staxigoe Harbour near the Town of Wick, half meal, half bear. They likewise transport a great deal of victuall to Strathnaver in Sutherland !! .
Without carts or roads in Caithness such grain was carried on the backs of the uniquitious pack horse. Lines of them tied head of one to tail of the horse in front were usual. Hence the meaning of the phrase nose to tail!!
For furniture straw was used for the now much sought after Orkney Chairs, but such chairs were pretty universal at one time. Mostly home-made by the men at the peat fire during the long dark winter nights.
At the Central School we were taught the rudiments of working straw, in my case a straw basket. The straw basket Nettie and I made in 1954 is still very functional on my visits to the superstores in Thurso. It is only 57 years old. We could and shoud be making. more use of our natural resources !!
An Orkney Chair was made as a wedding present for our grandfather David Pottinger, then of Upper Stove, Deerness, on his marriage to Elizabeth Tait of Campston on 19th August 1880. That event was the very first entry in William Tait’s Diaries. William was Elizabeth’s younger brother, aged 19 at the time. That chair is still at Greenland Mains with brother Hamish, as good as new, well, almost.
The very first entry in the Diaries begun in 1880 was:-
Aug 16 mon At Kirkwall with 5 sheep to G. Macgror. sold at £7.7.
Aug 17 tues At Lammas Market [ Kirkwall ] and bought a foal for £6.
Aug 18 wed At Cattle Show - preparing barn for wedding [ at Campston]
Aug 19 thur Elizabeth married this night - very fine night Aug 20 frid At Kirkwall with a cart with cussins from Caithness
Aug 21 sat At Kirkwall with three Carts with seats.
An Orkney Chair is a treasure much sought after, both at home and abroad. Usually a long waiting list of over a year to get one made. It is still a craft in Orkney with very expensive straw chairs yet being made by Robert H.Towers near Kirkwalll. His site is on the internet, well worth a look if only for educational purposes.
I mention him in passing because of his Stronsay connections. His grand father Tom Towers re-roofed the feeders’ byre at Whitehall with Welsh Slate for my father, working along with Tom Anderson, a mason, both knacky men. We watched them at work with admiration.
Gloy was the name used for oat straw when cleaned and ready for making baskets or chairs. To get the straw ready for making a chair or a basket a knocking stane was used in the barn. This was a flat flagstone built into the inside of the wall about 4 feet off the floor, projecting about six inches from the wall, and about two feet wide. We had one at Whitehall. It was called variously a knocking stane, a shakin stane, a gloy stane.
A handful of unthrashed straw from a sheaf of bright clean neepland oats was held tightly and the head end struck down on the stone, knocking off the grain and the chaff, a rough thrashing. The straw had to be kept as straight as possible. The leaves were then stripped from the stalk, the head end trimmed, and the resulting new-cleaned straw made up in tidy bundles was the gloy we used to make straw baskets at school. And by many a knacky man to make Orkney chairs.
And the same technique of clean straw is still used though I would think the old knocking stane is no longer in use.
I remember an Orkney Chair being made by Ould Pat Shearer, retired by my time from being one of our grandfather’s workers at Whitehall. He began with making the wooden frame of the chair in the farm workshop. A labour of love I think, but, as they say, he was “good wae his hands”. Worth watching the effortless way a skilled man did a job. And still is!!
There are tales in treeless Orkney of drift wood gathered from the beach being used to make a chair and I have no doubt it was so. I have seen a chair so made but it was not a straw backed one. They waste nothing across the Pentland!!
At school we had to hand make a special cord for the coming task of making a basket, made with imported raffia. We went down to the shore at Mill Bay to the sand dunes and gathered some specially hard Marram grass to add to the cord. Gave it a really hard wearing centre, good enough for 130 years in the case of our grandparents chair. Take some raffia, twist it right handed into a continuous double cord, cross it over left handed to make a self supporting two ply cord. Feed in a small amount of Marram as you go along for extra strength. Hard and strong and quite attractive, a skill on its own. Took some time and practice to get proficient at it, and we had to make most ot it at home.
When making the basket or the Orkney Chair the gloy was fed on the run in small but continuous amounts into the band being stitched. Your measure was just the amount that fitted confortably into your closed hand, the feel of it dictated when more was needed. .
The butt end of the straw was put into the centre of the band as we went along, leaving the finer and thinner upper ends of the straw to be seen from the outside, giving an attractive neat finish. The stitching was always done with a six inch sail maker’s needle, curved at the outer end, a big eye for the cord. We used a similar needle for stitching the wool bags.
The Orkney Chair could be simple but could be very sophisticated indeed. There are some for sale on the internet by a maker in Orkney and the range is azazing. The usual wood for the chair was clean-grained pine. Pitch Pine was also a beautiful wood for doors and shutters in older houses. Isauld House, now over 200 years old, had a good share once the paints and varnishes of long ago had been cleaned off to find the superb wood below.
Pine was much used for Orkney Chairs. Making one was a slow task, though the finished chair was a work of art. It was rare to come into any house in my early days in Stronsay and not find at least one if not more. The main enemy of Orkney chairs was woodworm, all too common in the moist climate of Orkney.
The range of chairs available from one maker uses Sapele wood from Africa as well as Pine. A very beautiful nice coloured fine grained wood, it adds about £50 to the price but when you are payng well over £1,000 for the more ornate chairs what’s £50.
Orkney Chairs ranged from the basic chair to ones with a drawer, usually front opening, but sometimes side so you could open it without getting off the chair. There was a granny chair that had a straw hood right over the top, very good to keep draughts off your neck!
Friday, 4 February 2011
No 74. Learning Weights by Rote. pb 4/2/2011
A long time ago, but yesterday too. Rain On My Window (Tears in My Eyes) will be an ongoing tale of my early memories of life shared by my younger brother David on Whitehall Farm in Stronsay, Orkney, of our childhood on a working farm in the 1930s before we lost our innocence.
2 lb and 1 lb iron weights in the shop scales in W.P.Drever’s shop in Whitehall Village.
A 19th-century steelyard., but its origins go back 2000 years.to the time of Christ.
ARTICLE BEGINS. FOTOS ABOVE IF USABLE.
No 62. WEIGHTS ON THE FARM.
The weights we used in Whitehall long before metrication were the old Imperial Measure ones, sometimes called Avoirdupois for smaller items but not on the Farm. Everything was in lbs or multples thereof, lbs. stones,.quarters (2 stones), cwts, tons. Converted to the Metric Scale of today, 2.2 lbs is a near kilo { kilogram ]. And so on.
At school early on we learned by rote our Table of Weights, 16 ozs is a lb, 14 lbs is a stone, 2 stones is a quarter, 4 quarters is a cwt. 20 cwts is a ton. Phew. To hear a whole classroom reciting that was quite something. Drilled it into you. A tod was the same weight as a quarter, 28 lbs, but used only in weighing wool. Stilll, I think I have heard the word “a tod” used long since by older people but I doubt if the old quantitative meaning is now known. .
Informally, we still use a ton when we mean something very heavy. "This suitcase weighs a ton!" It is wonderful that so many people today use the phrase when they have long forgotten how much a ton weighs. Or never knew !! Such is the beauty of our English language.
The old stone of 14 lbs is now a meaningless 6.4 kilos, a cwt of 112 lbs is approx. 50 kilograms (kilos), the old ton of 2240 lbs has long been superceded by the European Tonne of 1000 kgs. It is now illegal to have bags of cement weighing a cwt, it has to be in 25 kg.bags by H. and S. E. and by European rules. We do not hear much now of “a strong man” unless it be in a T.V. Competition. Or at a Highland Games. One can marvel at the physical fitness of yesterday that gave us a cattle drover, Gunn to name from Braemore, Dunbeath, who, legend has it, walked from Inverness to Braemore in one day. I presume he took the row boat ferries at the Kessock and Dornoch Firths, but that it is not related.
. A long day I would think, but drovers were as hard as naiIs. They had to be. Driving droves of cattle from Caithness to Carlisle in the days of one of my great great grandfathers James Tait of Inkstack was not a picnic. As related by his grandson William Tait of Ingsay the Diarist in a talk he gave to the Orkney Agricultural Discussion Society pre 1939 when their Transactions were published.
We weighed grain in cwts and half cwts. It was measured in quarters which was a quantity measure of 8 bushels. Our grain bags were 4 bushel in size. I do not know the origin of the name quarter used for grain, it is a different quarter than the 28 lb tod for wool which was a simple quarter of a cwt. . A quarter of oats was 3 cwts, a half quarter 4 bu. sack held 1½ cwts. A quarter of barley was 4 cwts, a quarter of wheat was 4¼ cwts.
Our loft weighing machine was simple enough, sturdy, a tray either side of a central pivot. One tray held the weights, the other held the bag of whatever we were weighjng. Could be tatties, could be grain, could be a man himself!!
The weights were of cast iron, some had a ring handle, others had a handle part of the casting itself. All had a small hole underneath into which lead was poured or taken out to meet the standard weights as checked by the Customs at the Head of the pier. I once remember our father taking the weights down to the Village to get them certified and marked in the lead by a dated stamp.
The other measure was barrels, but by my time barrels was nearly out of use. They held sway for many long centuries. The earliest use oif barrels I have come across was in the Will and Testament of William Pottinger in Swartaquoy in Holm in Orkney in 1612 who had:-
“Sawen upone the rowme of Swartaquoy, 3 barrellis aittis weyand 1 meill 1 setting extending to 3 meillis 3 settingis, £1 6s 8d, £4 13s 4d;
In the barne, 2 barrellis beir weyand 8 settingis, £2 the meill, £2 13s 4d;
1 hardin web of 6 eln @ 4s, £1 4s; “
Much later in 1896 at the Bu of Rousam William Tait’s Diary records
1896 Sept 07 wed
Took home 4 ton 18 cwt of coal today - 14 barrel to engine - 21 barrel in coal house - 14 barrel to Thomas Miller.
Weighed in cwts, measured in barrels. That above entry makes a barrel of coal a neat 2 cwts. Just enough for one man to carry.
The coal for the engine was the steam engine which drove the threshing mill in the barn. The coal for the house was the farm house. Tom Miller got part of his wages in barrels of coal.
Potatoes were measured by the barrel. I think the old phrase “ full measure “ meant just that, fill it to the top. There was an official stamp branded on many of the barrels to certify and denote their capacity, though unstamped barrels of different sizes were used for many purposes.
Hay was sold by the stone of 14lbs., or estimated by a valuer in stones if being taken over in a new tenancy. Weighed by guesswork at times, but sometimes over the weigh-bridge in the case of some hay bought by and some sold by Wm Tait in his Diary of 1892 from the farm of Work outside Kirkwall where he worked for a few years with his brother-in-law Robert Lennie, tenant of Work Farm and married to Wm Tait’s sister Anne from Campston. In his Diary for 1892 were the entries of :-
may 03 tues Two carts at Holm for hay from Quoys –
gross weight of both carts 20 cwt 4 qrs - 43 st 6 lb. hay.
may 13 frid. At Weyland for 97 st hay – at Kirkwall for hay from Midbigging, 30 stn.
- very fine day
sept 08 thur - put a load of hay to J. & W. Tait, 29 stones.
I am sure they did not go over a weighbridge for every load so much was taken in good faith. If a weighbridge was available then it was used. Most small Islands in Orkney had one at the Head of the Pier, used in Stronsay for weighing the loads of coal we bought from David Chalmers. Horse and cart on it empty, then again when full, simple enough.
The most interesting weighing machine in Whitehaa was based on the old Roman steel yard, though it might have pre-dated the Romans. One was found in Pompei, buried in volcanic ash from the eruption of Vesuvius in A.D. 79, stlill in working order. I think the Greeks had the steelyard even earlier. The name Steelyard, it is suggested, derives from the name of the old 14th Century Hanseatic League Trading Market Place in London. Which gave name to which I cannot tell !!
The steel yard was a beautiful balanced bar of well oiled and polished steel and brass. There were two stops to prevent it swinging too far either way. It was used to measure out meal for the workers, or for sale to anyone else. The meal was scooped out from the capacious meal girnel into the very large polished brass pan. The steelyard was suspended off centre from the rafters at a workable height. The brass scoop hung from the short end, the other end of the steel yard was a long horizontal bar measured in marked notched increments and had a sliding brass weight to move along to the balance point. It was very sensitive, a small amount of meal would tip it either way.
To we small ones the magic of the steelyard was fascinating, we never did get the mechanics of it properly into our heads.
2 lb and 1 lb iron weights in the shop scales in W.P.Drever’s shop in Whitehall Village.
A 19th-century steelyard., but its origins go back 2000 years.to the time of Christ.
ARTICLE BEGINS. FOTOS ABOVE IF USABLE.
No 62. WEIGHTS ON THE FARM.
The weights we used in Whitehall long before metrication were the old Imperial Measure ones, sometimes called Avoirdupois for smaller items but not on the Farm. Everything was in lbs or multples thereof, lbs. stones,.quarters (2 stones), cwts, tons. Converted to the Metric Scale of today, 2.2 lbs is a near kilo { kilogram ]. And so on.
At school early on we learned by rote our Table of Weights, 16 ozs is a lb, 14 lbs is a stone, 2 stones is a quarter, 4 quarters is a cwt. 20 cwts is a ton. Phew. To hear a whole classroom reciting that was quite something. Drilled it into you. A tod was the same weight as a quarter, 28 lbs, but used only in weighing wool. Stilll, I think I have heard the word “a tod” used long since by older people but I doubt if the old quantitative meaning is now known. .
Informally, we still use a ton when we mean something very heavy. "This suitcase weighs a ton!" It is wonderful that so many people today use the phrase when they have long forgotten how much a ton weighs. Or never knew !! Such is the beauty of our English language.
The old stone of 14 lbs is now a meaningless 6.4 kilos, a cwt of 112 lbs is approx. 50 kilograms (kilos), the old ton of 2240 lbs has long been superceded by the European Tonne of 1000 kgs. It is now illegal to have bags of cement weighing a cwt, it has to be in 25 kg.bags by H. and S. E. and by European rules. We do not hear much now of “a strong man” unless it be in a T.V. Competition. Or at a Highland Games. One can marvel at the physical fitness of yesterday that gave us a cattle drover, Gunn to name from Braemore, Dunbeath, who, legend has it, walked from Inverness to Braemore in one day. I presume he took the row boat ferries at the Kessock and Dornoch Firths, but that it is not related.
. A long day I would think, but drovers were as hard as naiIs. They had to be. Driving droves of cattle from Caithness to Carlisle in the days of one of my great great grandfathers James Tait of Inkstack was not a picnic. As related by his grandson William Tait of Ingsay the Diarist in a talk he gave to the Orkney Agricultural Discussion Society pre 1939 when their Transactions were published.
We weighed grain in cwts and half cwts. It was measured in quarters which was a quantity measure of 8 bushels. Our grain bags were 4 bushel in size. I do not know the origin of the name quarter used for grain, it is a different quarter than the 28 lb tod for wool which was a simple quarter of a cwt. . A quarter of oats was 3 cwts, a half quarter 4 bu. sack held 1½ cwts. A quarter of barley was 4 cwts, a quarter of wheat was 4¼ cwts.
Our loft weighing machine was simple enough, sturdy, a tray either side of a central pivot. One tray held the weights, the other held the bag of whatever we were weighjng. Could be tatties, could be grain, could be a man himself!!
The weights were of cast iron, some had a ring handle, others had a handle part of the casting itself. All had a small hole underneath into which lead was poured or taken out to meet the standard weights as checked by the Customs at the Head of the pier. I once remember our father taking the weights down to the Village to get them certified and marked in the lead by a dated stamp.
The other measure was barrels, but by my time barrels was nearly out of use. They held sway for many long centuries. The earliest use oif barrels I have come across was in the Will and Testament of William Pottinger in Swartaquoy in Holm in Orkney in 1612 who had:-
“Sawen upone the rowme of Swartaquoy, 3 barrellis aittis weyand 1 meill 1 setting extending to 3 meillis 3 settingis, £1 6s 8d, £4 13s 4d;
In the barne, 2 barrellis beir weyand 8 settingis, £2 the meill, £2 13s 4d;
1 hardin web of 6 eln @ 4s, £1 4s; “
Much later in 1896 at the Bu of Rousam William Tait’s Diary records
1896 Sept 07 wed
Took home 4 ton 18 cwt of coal today - 14 barrel to engine - 21 barrel in coal house - 14 barrel to Thomas Miller.
Weighed in cwts, measured in barrels. That above entry makes a barrel of coal a neat 2 cwts. Just enough for one man to carry.
The coal for the engine was the steam engine which drove the threshing mill in the barn. The coal for the house was the farm house. Tom Miller got part of his wages in barrels of coal.
Potatoes were measured by the barrel. I think the old phrase “ full measure “ meant just that, fill it to the top. There was an official stamp branded on many of the barrels to certify and denote their capacity, though unstamped barrels of different sizes were used for many purposes.
Hay was sold by the stone of 14lbs., or estimated by a valuer in stones if being taken over in a new tenancy. Weighed by guesswork at times, but sometimes over the weigh-bridge in the case of some hay bought by and some sold by Wm Tait in his Diary of 1892 from the farm of Work outside Kirkwall where he worked for a few years with his brother-in-law Robert Lennie, tenant of Work Farm and married to Wm Tait’s sister Anne from Campston. In his Diary for 1892 were the entries of :-
may 03 tues Two carts at Holm for hay from Quoys –
gross weight of both carts 20 cwt 4 qrs - 43 st 6 lb. hay.
may 13 frid. At Weyland for 97 st hay – at Kirkwall for hay from Midbigging, 30 stn.
- very fine day
sept 08 thur - put a load of hay to J. & W. Tait, 29 stones.
I am sure they did not go over a weighbridge for every load so much was taken in good faith. If a weighbridge was available then it was used. Most small Islands in Orkney had one at the Head of the Pier, used in Stronsay for weighing the loads of coal we bought from David Chalmers. Horse and cart on it empty, then again when full, simple enough.
The most interesting weighing machine in Whitehaa was based on the old Roman steel yard, though it might have pre-dated the Romans. One was found in Pompei, buried in volcanic ash from the eruption of Vesuvius in A.D. 79, stlill in working order. I think the Greeks had the steelyard even earlier. The name Steelyard, it is suggested, derives from the name of the old 14th Century Hanseatic League Trading Market Place in London. Which gave name to which I cannot tell !!
The steel yard was a beautiful balanced bar of well oiled and polished steel and brass. There were two stops to prevent it swinging too far either way. It was used to measure out meal for the workers, or for sale to anyone else. The meal was scooped out from the capacious meal girnel into the very large polished brass pan. The steelyard was suspended off centre from the rafters at a workable height. The brass scoop hung from the short end, the other end of the steel yard was a long horizontal bar measured in marked notched increments and had a sliding brass weight to move along to the balance point. It was very sensitive, a small amount of meal would tip it either way.
To we small ones the magic of the steelyard was fascinating, we never did get the mechanics of it properly into our heads.
Friday, 21 January 2011
No 69. STRONG MEN.
NO 69. STRONG MEN.
I wrote of physical strength recently when remembering moving grain from the thrashing mill and lofting it. A mere mention of just one task in passing. But a long time ago men had to shift and lift all their working lives. Women too.
You will not see many stout men in old photos of horses and men lined up with their carts outside a cart shed. The classic photo of that in Caithness was and still is the one taken at West Murkle about 1920, but there are many other very good photos still around. There were not many men around then with soft hands either.
In Stronsay my memory is of strong men down in Whitehall Village with loose salt to shovel, quarter cran baskets of herring to lift onto a cart, swinging them off the pier if the carts were too slow to get down for them to load direct from the boats. No time to hang around waiting with perishable herring. The wicker baskets came out of the the drifters’ fish holds usually in singles though I seem to remember clutches of them at times, doubles or triples. It depended how many men on the rope on un-assisted hand pulled rope pulleys or if they had a steam winch. There were barrels of cured herring to lift and shift, salt to move, loose herring to shovel, endless physical hard work but it all got done. Ships to load with packed herring barrels for Hambuig or Danzig or Russia.
The men on the pier on Steamer days had to handle full egg boxes, crates of lobsters, bags of feed, sacks of grain, timber for the joiner, iron for the blacksmith. Caithness roofing slates, cement, farm machinery, all sorts of odds and ends.
Bags of fertiliser came ashore in bundles in rope slings. Basic Slag, a by-product of iron smelting, came in quite small bags not too easy to get a grip on or your hands around, difficult to handle as it very dense and heavy. Very dirty too when spreading it on the fields, not a job the men liked too much on a windy day.
North African Phosphate came in 2 cwt bags, I think some of it might have been 2¼ cwt. It came in thick and very good jute sacks which were much treasured on the farm when washed and later used for other purposes. Most other fertilisers were in 1 cwt jute bags. Paper or plastic bags had not yet been invented.
Some goods were loaded directly onto carts standing ready but perishable bagged feed from Bibbys for hens and pigs had to be taken out of the slings, loaded on hurleys and wheeled into the store on the pier to be stacked high until someone came to collect it. The stacking was a three man job, two to swing the bag between them and “Hup” to a man on top of the heap storing it tidily.
Davie Miller was storeman in charge of everything and every body down the pier. There was no time to waste when the steamer was at the pier, load and unload, sort out the goods when the ship had gone. Everything needed for the Island had to come in over the pier, all had to be man handled.
There were livestock to handle, cattle, pigs, a horse with a bag over its eyes, two men with ropes to the halter at the head, two men either side behind with a sack or a rope held between them behind the rear of the horse to urge it on. A horse could weigh a good ton. Cattle with halters already tied on their heads were comparably easy though now and again one jumped off the pier into the sea and had to be caught by men in a boat, lassoed and towed ashore. Down the pier again with strong men hanging on the rope and on board.
The men on the coal hulks had coal to shovel all day, every day save Sunday. The coal had first to be shovelled into coal skips and unloaded from the colliers from Newcastle into the coal hulks lying at anchor in the Bay of Franks, normally before the season began, then done all over again to fill the coal bunkers of the herring drifters. We used to watch the men going out from the pier to the coal hulks in their small motor boats if we were down in the Village. Or coming back at the end of the day covered in coal dust. All hard hand work.
On the farm lifting was normal. In autumn cattle had to be lassoed and pulled into their stalls in the byre for the winter. We still did that into my earlier days in Isauld though to a much lesser extent. One byre held 8 cattle, one held 16, the rest were in loose bedded courts.
Sheaves had to be pitched, straw had to be carried, dung had to be loaded onto barrows and wheeled out of the byre and onto the dung midden. Later the dung had to be dug out of the midden with graips and forked onto carts, then to the fields for spreading..
Grain in the lofts had to be lifted into sacks with wooden scoop boxes about a bushel in size, weighed, the bags tied and stored ready for the Mill or for shipping. Four bushel jute sacks from Dundee were standard, holding 1½ cwt for oats, 2 cwt for barley (bere) . Then onto carts and away. All hand work.
Strength at times was recreational. A level space in the stackyard at Whitehall just outside the barn door was clear for putting the iron shot, throwing a 56 lb weight over a bar or just for distance. Johnny Peace practiced his long jump into a home made sand pit before the Stronsay Show. There was a large round boulder to lift and see how far you could carry it before dropping. . We could not even lift it !! Sometimes a wee game of football with jackets for goal posts. Everyone was a referee!!
The loft had its indoor entertainment. “Skin-the-cat” was one. Jump for the rafters, grip two adjoining couple backs and turn your legs through the intervening space until upside down, then turn back again. Jump two handed for one rafter back, feet off the floor, chin the rafter cross back and see how many times you could do it. See who could do the greatest number. No cheating allowed.
One miracle man whom our father told us of was at the Bu’ of Rousam in his
early days. Such was his strength of hand that he could grip the couple back
from underneath between thumb and fingers and lift himself up to chin it.
He had been a whaler in his younger days !!!
I wrote of physical strength recently when remembering moving grain from the thrashing mill and lofting it. A mere mention of just one task in passing. But a long time ago men had to shift and lift all their working lives. Women too.
You will not see many stout men in old photos of horses and men lined up with their carts outside a cart shed. The classic photo of that in Caithness was and still is the one taken at West Murkle about 1920, but there are many other very good photos still around. There were not many men around then with soft hands either.
In Stronsay my memory is of strong men down in Whitehall Village with loose salt to shovel, quarter cran baskets of herring to lift onto a cart, swinging them off the pier if the carts were too slow to get down for them to load direct from the boats. No time to hang around waiting with perishable herring. The wicker baskets came out of the the drifters’ fish holds usually in singles though I seem to remember clutches of them at times, doubles or triples. It depended how many men on the rope on un-assisted hand pulled rope pulleys or if they had a steam winch. There were barrels of cured herring to lift and shift, salt to move, loose herring to shovel, endless physical hard work but it all got done. Ships to load with packed herring barrels for Hambuig or Danzig or Russia.
The men on the pier on Steamer days had to handle full egg boxes, crates of lobsters, bags of feed, sacks of grain, timber for the joiner, iron for the blacksmith. Caithness roofing slates, cement, farm machinery, all sorts of odds and ends.
Bags of fertiliser came ashore in bundles in rope slings. Basic Slag, a by-product of iron smelting, came in quite small bags not too easy to get a grip on or your hands around, difficult to handle as it very dense and heavy. Very dirty too when spreading it on the fields, not a job the men liked too much on a windy day.
North African Phosphate came in 2 cwt bags, I think some of it might have been 2¼ cwt. It came in thick and very good jute sacks which were much treasured on the farm when washed and later used for other purposes. Most other fertilisers were in 1 cwt jute bags. Paper or plastic bags had not yet been invented.
Some goods were loaded directly onto carts standing ready but perishable bagged feed from Bibbys for hens and pigs had to be taken out of the slings, loaded on hurleys and wheeled into the store on the pier to be stacked high until someone came to collect it. The stacking was a three man job, two to swing the bag between them and “Hup” to a man on top of the heap storing it tidily.
Davie Miller was storeman in charge of everything and every body down the pier. There was no time to waste when the steamer was at the pier, load and unload, sort out the goods when the ship had gone. Everything needed for the Island had to come in over the pier, all had to be man handled.
There were livestock to handle, cattle, pigs, a horse with a bag over its eyes, two men with ropes to the halter at the head, two men either side behind with a sack or a rope held between them behind the rear of the horse to urge it on. A horse could weigh a good ton. Cattle with halters already tied on their heads were comparably easy though now and again one jumped off the pier into the sea and had to be caught by men in a boat, lassoed and towed ashore. Down the pier again with strong men hanging on the rope and on board.
The men on the coal hulks had coal to shovel all day, every day save Sunday. The coal had first to be shovelled into coal skips and unloaded from the colliers from Newcastle into the coal hulks lying at anchor in the Bay of Franks, normally before the season began, then done all over again to fill the coal bunkers of the herring drifters. We used to watch the men going out from the pier to the coal hulks in their small motor boats if we were down in the Village. Or coming back at the end of the day covered in coal dust. All hard hand work.
On the farm lifting was normal. In autumn cattle had to be lassoed and pulled into their stalls in the byre for the winter. We still did that into my earlier days in Isauld though to a much lesser extent. One byre held 8 cattle, one held 16, the rest were in loose bedded courts.
Sheaves had to be pitched, straw had to be carried, dung had to be loaded onto barrows and wheeled out of the byre and onto the dung midden. Later the dung had to be dug out of the midden with graips and forked onto carts, then to the fields for spreading..
Grain in the lofts had to be lifted into sacks with wooden scoop boxes about a bushel in size, weighed, the bags tied and stored ready for the Mill or for shipping. Four bushel jute sacks from Dundee were standard, holding 1½ cwt for oats, 2 cwt for barley (bere) . Then onto carts and away. All hand work.
Strength at times was recreational. A level space in the stackyard at Whitehall just outside the barn door was clear for putting the iron shot, throwing a 56 lb weight over a bar or just for distance. Johnny Peace practiced his long jump into a home made sand pit before the Stronsay Show. There was a large round boulder to lift and see how far you could carry it before dropping. . We could not even lift it !! Sometimes a wee game of football with jackets for goal posts. Everyone was a referee!!
The loft had its indoor entertainment. “Skin-the-cat” was one. Jump for the rafters, grip two adjoining couple backs and turn your legs through the intervening space until upside down, then turn back again. Jump two handed for one rafter back, feet off the floor, chin the rafter cross back and see how many times you could do it. See who could do the greatest number. No cheating allowed.
One miracle man whom our father told us of was at the Bu’ of Rousam in his
early days. Such was his strength of hand that he could grip the couple back
from underneath between thumb and fingers and lift himself up to chin it.
He had been a whaler in his younger days !!!
Friday, 7 January 2011
No 68. RABBITS pb 07.01.2011
No 68 RABBITS.
There was a famous song going the rounds during the War of 1939/45. . “ Run, rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.” The song had a long ago provenance but was adapted in memory of a Shetland rabbit alleged to have been killed by German bombing early in the War. Or so they said.!!! .
The song was sung at every Concert I remember during the War anyway, the chorus rising to the rafters. .
Rabbits were big business for some people. Wm Tait’s Dairies1880 to 1941caused me some surprise when I came across the entry for the Bu of Rousam in 1898/99 for rabbits shipped out of Stronsay for my grandfather David Pottinger.
The Bu’ of Rousam was connected to the rest of Stronsay by a narrow sandy neck of land, the Links. That area was grossly overrun by rabbits. Still is but to a much lesser extent. Our father told us that the Links was where he and his elder by 2 years brother David as boys caught rabbits and made their pocket money by selling the skins.
There was a down side to rabbits, and the Diaries make m,ention of it. On October 7th 1897, William records “Carting sheaves all day - finished Cupa field & a few loads from Brecks - took in most of the Murtle Oats from Big Park - all the rabbit cuttings put in sheaf loft.”
Rabbit cuttings were the parts of the grain fields next the Links and savaged by rabbits to the extent the straw was too short to be cut other than by the scythe and salvaged as fodder.
That damage to crops went on into my day at Greenland Mains. The Links end of adjoining fields was often severely damaged, both grain crops and, even more expensive, the crops of turnips. Rabbits preferred swede turnips, sweeter than yellows, and would come past the yellow turnips to get to the sweeter swedes farther up the field. We could not fool them by sowing yellows in the lower parts of the fields.
Rabbits fed on a broad front but hares would come up the field along a line of swedes taking a skinning bite here and there as they went, leaving a lot of damaged swede turnips that would then be further ruined by frost. We did not have too many hares, today they are pretty scarce.
Lower Dounreay was not a rabbit problem but at Isauld we had a well populated Links with some rabbits coming over the Isauld Burn from Sandside Estate Links Golf Course in a very hungry winter to add to the damage in adjacent Isauld fields. Water in the Burn did not deter them.
According to the Diaries, the trapping season at the Bu’ began in November.
And the entry for Nov 06 1899 makes reference to the rabbit hunters starting that day.
It looks as if the rabbit hunters might have come from another of the North Isles as the Orcadia went in to Kirkwall from Westray on Mondays, calling en route at Papa Westray, Eday, Sanday and Stronsay.
Their first shipment of 76 pairs was Monday 13th Nov. Winter cold kept them fresh enough without refrigeration on the S.S. Orcadia in to Kirkwall. During the week they would be hung high in pairs on wires in an airy shed in the steading until crating for shipping. Then they were hung in pairs in open lath- sided crates with plenty of air circulation. Whole rabbits were perishable and I found only in the colder months of December through to early March were rabbits shipped to Kirkwall. These months were also the months when the rabbits favourite pastime of breeding even more rabbits was temporarily halted. So all rabbits caught were marketable.
Every Monday for the time of the rabbit hunting a cart went from Rousam to the pier
with a load of rabbits, sometimes two carts. he last shipment in 1899 was March 6th.
That would be the end of the season as the rabbits would begin breeding by then,
and therefore no longer saleable.
There were no money entries in the Diaries for Sales so I cannot tell if the rabbits were sold for my grandfather or if the hunters worked on their own account. Nor can I tell what price they made. I suspect they may have had a sharing system, the Diary does not tell
William’s Diaries show that hundreds of rabbits would be caught each season .
In 1898 going into early months of 1899 the figure was 1155. For 1899 into 1900 the total was 1625. The numbers were incredible, and that in thye days before refrigeration or “sell by” dates. .
. The skins could be dried and kept much longer and in slightly warmer weather. The entries for 1895 / 96 tell of skins sold as well and the total comes to over 900.
At Greenland Mains, with a very well populated Links, we sometimes ran a rabbit net right across the bottom of a field and then chased the rabbits into it. On a good night the haul was staggering. Had to be a dry windy night to mask our noise, calm nights were a waste of time.
The trappers in my early days at Greenland were Pindi and Dink, more properly James Mackenzie from Barrock and Donald Suitherland from Culag, Castetown, I think. They were hardy souls who came on their bikes and carted the rabbits to Castletown hung over the crossbars. Then it was in to the Railway Station in Thurso by Sutherland’s Horse Lorry.
The most memorable occasion I had with them was one winter’s day when I was working in the Long Feeders Byre at Greenland Mains. I was thankful to be indoors as the day was one of indescribably smoory snow. Fine to the extent it sifted in through the slates of the Welsh Slate roof and filtered down like a fog in the byre. It got everywhere, settling like sifting sugar on the backs of the cattle.
The bottom door, upper and lower halves, burst open. Two absolutely white from head to toe apparitions staggered in, Pindi and Dink. They had been caught out on the Links by the sudden onset of the Blizzard. Experienced outdoor men though they were, Nature had caught them out.
They set out towards the farm steading with the wind behind them. Smoory snow swirls around you so even with the wind on your back you cannot see. Once going to School in Stronsay David and I were similarly caught.
The snow swirled around them to the extent they could not see the road at all between the hedges. They went over the fence to the middle of the Lea Tack field and could see better where they were going. Up the field, over one dike and on to the next, working South towards the buildings with the blizzard on their backs.
I took them in to the warm Kitchen and mugs of hot tea revived them.
But the Barrock Road through Greenland Mains could be unforgiving
Years later Franker Bain lost his life trying to walk home to Barrock in a similar blizzard. We found him 3 weeks later when the drifts melted.
There was a famous song going the rounds during the War of 1939/45. . “ Run, rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run.” The song had a long ago provenance but was adapted in memory of a Shetland rabbit alleged to have been killed by German bombing early in the War. Or so they said.!!! .
The song was sung at every Concert I remember during the War anyway, the chorus rising to the rafters. .
Rabbits were big business for some people. Wm Tait’s Dairies1880 to 1941caused me some surprise when I came across the entry for the Bu of Rousam in 1898/99 for rabbits shipped out of Stronsay for my grandfather David Pottinger.
The Bu’ of Rousam was connected to the rest of Stronsay by a narrow sandy neck of land, the Links. That area was grossly overrun by rabbits. Still is but to a much lesser extent. Our father told us that the Links was where he and his elder by 2 years brother David as boys caught rabbits and made their pocket money by selling the skins.
There was a down side to rabbits, and the Diaries make m,ention of it. On October 7th 1897, William records “Carting sheaves all day - finished Cupa field & a few loads from Brecks - took in most of the Murtle Oats from Big Park - all the rabbit cuttings put in sheaf loft.”
Rabbit cuttings were the parts of the grain fields next the Links and savaged by rabbits to the extent the straw was too short to be cut other than by the scythe and salvaged as fodder.
That damage to crops went on into my day at Greenland Mains. The Links end of adjoining fields was often severely damaged, both grain crops and, even more expensive, the crops of turnips. Rabbits preferred swede turnips, sweeter than yellows, and would come past the yellow turnips to get to the sweeter swedes farther up the field. We could not fool them by sowing yellows in the lower parts of the fields.
Rabbits fed on a broad front but hares would come up the field along a line of swedes taking a skinning bite here and there as they went, leaving a lot of damaged swede turnips that would then be further ruined by frost. We did not have too many hares, today they are pretty scarce.
Lower Dounreay was not a rabbit problem but at Isauld we had a well populated Links with some rabbits coming over the Isauld Burn from Sandside Estate Links Golf Course in a very hungry winter to add to the damage in adjacent Isauld fields. Water in the Burn did not deter them.
According to the Diaries, the trapping season at the Bu’ began in November.
And the entry for Nov 06 1899 makes reference to the rabbit hunters starting that day.
It looks as if the rabbit hunters might have come from another of the North Isles as the Orcadia went in to Kirkwall from Westray on Mondays, calling en route at Papa Westray, Eday, Sanday and Stronsay.
Their first shipment of 76 pairs was Monday 13th Nov. Winter cold kept them fresh enough without refrigeration on the S.S. Orcadia in to Kirkwall. During the week they would be hung high in pairs on wires in an airy shed in the steading until crating for shipping. Then they were hung in pairs in open lath- sided crates with plenty of air circulation. Whole rabbits were perishable and I found only in the colder months of December through to early March were rabbits shipped to Kirkwall. These months were also the months when the rabbits favourite pastime of breeding even more rabbits was temporarily halted. So all rabbits caught were marketable.
Every Monday for the time of the rabbit hunting a cart went from Rousam to the pier
with a load of rabbits, sometimes two carts. he last shipment in 1899 was March 6th.
That would be the end of the season as the rabbits would begin breeding by then,
and therefore no longer saleable.
There were no money entries in the Diaries for Sales so I cannot tell if the rabbits were sold for my grandfather or if the hunters worked on their own account. Nor can I tell what price they made. I suspect they may have had a sharing system, the Diary does not tell
William’s Diaries show that hundreds of rabbits would be caught each season .
In 1898 going into early months of 1899 the figure was 1155. For 1899 into 1900 the total was 1625. The numbers were incredible, and that in thye days before refrigeration or “sell by” dates. .
. The skins could be dried and kept much longer and in slightly warmer weather. The entries for 1895 / 96 tell of skins sold as well and the total comes to over 900.
At Greenland Mains, with a very well populated Links, we sometimes ran a rabbit net right across the bottom of a field and then chased the rabbits into it. On a good night the haul was staggering. Had to be a dry windy night to mask our noise, calm nights were a waste of time.
The trappers in my early days at Greenland were Pindi and Dink, more properly James Mackenzie from Barrock and Donald Suitherland from Culag, Castetown, I think. They were hardy souls who came on their bikes and carted the rabbits to Castletown hung over the crossbars. Then it was in to the Railway Station in Thurso by Sutherland’s Horse Lorry.
The most memorable occasion I had with them was one winter’s day when I was working in the Long Feeders Byre at Greenland Mains. I was thankful to be indoors as the day was one of indescribably smoory snow. Fine to the extent it sifted in through the slates of the Welsh Slate roof and filtered down like a fog in the byre. It got everywhere, settling like sifting sugar on the backs of the cattle.
The bottom door, upper and lower halves, burst open. Two absolutely white from head to toe apparitions staggered in, Pindi and Dink. They had been caught out on the Links by the sudden onset of the Blizzard. Experienced outdoor men though they were, Nature had caught them out.
They set out towards the farm steading with the wind behind them. Smoory snow swirls around you so even with the wind on your back you cannot see. Once going to School in Stronsay David and I were similarly caught.
The snow swirled around them to the extent they could not see the road at all between the hedges. They went over the fence to the middle of the Lea Tack field and could see better where they were going. Up the field, over one dike and on to the next, working South towards the buildings with the blizzard on their backs.
I took them in to the warm Kitchen and mugs of hot tea revived them.
But the Barrock Road through Greenland Mains could be unforgiving
Years later Franker Bain lost his life trying to walk home to Barrock in a similar blizzard. We found him 3 weeks later when the drifts melted.
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