Air Chuairt nan eilean
(Around the Islands)

By Tearlaidh GM4UZY


Welcome to the seventh edition of Around the Islands. Due to cut off dates, by the time you read this we will be in another year, I would like to take this opportunity to wish all of you all the very best for 2000 and beyond.

There was not a great deal of Island activity in the last quarter of 1999, but the 24th September found André GM3VLB off on his travels again this time to the Orkneys, a new group for him. From the 24th to the 28th he activated Mainland OR1, South Ronaldsay OR5, Hoy OR6, Shapinsay OR7, Rousay OR9, Egilsay OR12, Flotta OR13, Burray OR14, Graemsay OR20, Wyre OR22, Lamb Holm OR26 and Glims Holm OR27. Andre then on return to the mainland flew up to the Shetlands and till the 4th October was QRV from Mainland SH1, Yell SH3, Bressay SH6 and Unst SH2.

On the 30th September Jim GM4CHX was again on the move, this time to the Firth of Lorne Group, he was first QRV from Seil FL3 then on to Luing FL4 on the 1st October. From there Jim went on to Arran CL1 and was QRV on the 2nd and the 3rd.
Unfortunately he was unable to be QRV from Lismore FL1 on the way back due to adverse WX.

Also QRV from Luing FL4 from the 3rd to 8th October were Alan G4TAY and Colin G8EXN using the call GB0IOL. The QTH was a cottage named "Isle of Sea" and made well over 200 QSO's including over 100 IOSA directory holders. They also made a trip to Seil FL3 and were QRV as GM3TAY/P, on a second trip to Seil mainly to visit Easdale Island (Slate mining museum and Cat stone artist) and hoped to work some stations from Seil FL3 on the way back. On the return journey from Easdale to Seil the "Passenger Ferry" broke down, they had to limp back to Easdale and spend three hours marooned without radio while the fuel tank etc. were cleaned out. As the Cuan ferry to Luing closed at 6pm, they had to return at once and were unable to make any further contacts from Seil. Very hard luck lads, but such is the Islands, hope you can do it again some other time.

On the 17th October, Bob GM0DEQ, Robbie GM0SEI and Dave GM3WIL satisfied over 600 hungry IOSA chasers by activating Horse Island CL12 for the first time, using the very appropriate callsign GB2NAG, this was a first class operation and all concerned are to be congratulated.

After a week's delay due to adverse WX, Peter GM3OFT made it to Little Cumbrae CL4 in another first class operation. Peter was QRV for two days with many heavy pile-ups and made well over 600 QSO's. More on one of Peter's trips follows at the end of "Around the Islands".

The IOSA bands were then very quiet until the 4th and 5th December when GM3TTC/P was QRV from Raasay NH10 between work commitments.

EAST MEETS WEST     

GM4UZY and XYL Elizabeth took the high road to Dingwall at the end of October to visit one half of the family. On the Monday of that week we went over to the West Coast to Gairloch and spent the day with Jim GM4CHX and his XYL Dorothy.
It was a delight to be able to put a face to the callsign and voice that has given IOSA chaser's so many islands and our day was very enjoyable. While in Gairloch I took the opportunity to check Jim's activation logs, and at the end of the Century Jim has finished up as the IOSA directory holder with the highest amount of activated islands to his credit and is still looking at one or two more groups. This is a commendable achievement bearing in mind Jim's advancing years.
Whilst up in the area we had our annual night out in Inverness with Charles GM0OMC and XYL Rita, it was very nice to meet up with them again and a great time was had by all. (This event is only allowed once a year, as apparently Inverness takes a year to recover)

Now, a bit of tidying up at the end of the year, during the past year while checking QSL card for Awards I have come across a few anomalies which require to be corrected.
QSL Addresses. 
There have been a number of occasions this year when islands have been activated that chasers have run into problems trying to obtain a QSL card. There is little point in saying that the QSL is via the home call when that call is listed in the directory as "details withheld on licensees request". Can activators please, when activating islands give clear and precise directions as to the method that they wish QSLing to be done? If direct, to a call that can be found in the call book or to a manager if they wish their QTH details not to be available or if QSL's are only by the bureau that this is made perfectly clear.

SWL QSL cards  
 There has been one or two occasions in the past year, that I have had to reject QSL cards sent in by SWL's. The reason being, that the callsign of the station that the activator has been in QSO with at the time has not been clearly indicated on the card, this is most unfair on the SWL. Can I ask activators to make sure that the callsign of the station they were in QSO with at the time indicated by the SWL on their card is clearly indicated on the return card to the SWL, if this is not done the card will be rejected. Thanks.

Multiple QSL cards
 There are no objections to multiple QSO's being recorded on one QSL card for submission for awards. If the number of QSO's is such that it requires them to be listed on a separate piece of paper, this piece of paper must be securely fixed to the activator's QSL card with the card showing at least one of the QSO's. Loose sheets of paper will not be accepted and the islands claimed will not be credited to the applicant. Again thanks.


STOP PRESS:
Radio Columnist gets it wrong

You will recall in the last edition that I related to you the story of the now famous (or infamous) Veggie Casserole QSL card. I received not long after the issue of the last Digest information that my assumptions for the issue of this "card" were wrong. I am pleased to be able to put this matter correct and put it to bed.
When this QSO was taking place, the activator was picking his way through this Veggie Casserole and mentioned this to the Chaser, who told him, at that moment they were sitting down to steak, chips and a side salad. Being holed up in a tent in a force nine gale with only the sheep and a radio for company the activator threatened to send the tin to the chaser, obviously only the label arrived. The chaser assumed that the lack of a 5 star Chinese restaurant on one of the Northern Isles had forced the activator to eat it! The chaser being a staunch carnivore advised the activator to ditch the Veggie casserole and start on the wild life! I am indebted to all the parties involved in this tale for entering into the spirit of it so well.

Finally, I commend to you the following article titled "In the beginning was THE WORD . . .." written by Peter GM3OFT and reproduced here with his kind permission.
It is an extremely humorous and entertaining story and a very worthwhile piece of reading. For anyone contemplating activating any of the islands for the first time it is an extremely valuable source of information and could well be the guidelines for a complete beginner. Thanks Peter. 

Seachd Tri` (73)                                                                                       E.&O.E  

  


In  the  beginning was The Word . . . .

Eavesdropping on 80m one day, I heard about some really super awards for contacting Scottish Islands.  A trawl of my log revealed a dozen qualifying contacts over the years, inspiring me to pop some cards off to the Bureau.  "Worth a try anyway", thought I.  About the same time, that genial gentleman of IOTA/IOSA fame, Les GM3ITN, told me how the Islands of Scotland Awards scheme, run by the GMDX Group, operated.  Shortly thereafter I had my own IOSA Directory - the magic booklet which tells all.   I took to reading the mail on 3.772 MHz at every opportunity and within the month made contact with 3 more islands - my cards this time by direct mail with SAE.   An envelope came from the bureau - whoopee ! -  5 more islands confirmed.  Now avidly following each and every expedition, I soon collected the requisite 10 cards - only to sadly realize that they represented just 4 island groups.  Time and QSOs passed, then one day another envelope arrived from the bureau.   Great ! - 4 more Scottish Island cards and 2 more groups confirmed.  The basic award was now be mine for the asking - and of course a little spare cash.   Thus it was that I became hooked, indeed totally addicted, to the thrill of the chase for those elusive Scottish Islands.   Only two years later I proudly achieved the ultimate goal -  my personally engraved, most beautiful, silver Quaich  (a great talking point with visitors, by the way).   "Whence now", I asked myself ?  - but the crafty IOSA committee were already one step ahead with the Century Award, the Honour Roll Plaque and another 50 islands to chase.   
How I admired - even envied - those adventurous Island Activators, who boldly went where no man had gone before (or so it seemed).    In course of due I met and "talked islands" with both Andre (GM3VLB) and Eric (GM0KJW).  My ambitions jelled - after all, they were much the same age as myself -  if they could do it - why not me ?   The die was cast.  With Andre's guidance, I purchased a small 2nd hand Petrol-Electric generator. Soon thereafter a Kenwood TS50 came my way at the right price.  I already had a tent and camping gear as a result of many years of motorcycle rallies.  With veteran Andre's help and advice, construction of portable masts, aerials and all the other essential paraphenalia kept me busy for the rest of that year.  One fine windless sunny autumn day, my Moffat friend John (GM3JWV) helped me with a dummy run to test my new portable station.  We found a picturesque spot, near the Devil's Beef Tub on the A701 north of Moffat, offloaded everything and started the stopwatch.  It was vital to know how long it would take to get "on the air".  I'm struggling with a well arched 32 ft mast half up, "John, will you for heavens sake pull on that top guy before I have to let go !"  "No way", says John, "you got to do it yourself on an island - so get on with it".   It went up - eventually - very wiggly and distinctly unstable.  Thirty-five minutes just for the mast was ridiculous - back to the drawing board for that item.  (My mast is now a modest 26 ft, re-engineered for single handed erection in about 6 minutes flat.)  I was delighted to find my multi-band dipole tuned with less than 2:1 SWR on all 5 bands and we soon made sample contacts with excellent reports on each band.  Congratulating ourselves on a great /P day out.  I timed dismantling the station - only 25 minutes and all packed away in the car.  Putting an island "on the air" next Spring would be a pleasant doddle.  Hah!  Just how naive can you get ?  How was I to know that island winds never stop blowing, but if they do, everyone falls over ? 
  I had no specific island plans, but I knew the chance would some day come - and it did.   When the xyl suggested we take up the offer of a holiday with friends who lived by Loch Duich in Wester Ross - who was I to object ?  Thus it was that plans were made to activate my first 4 islands - Skye,  Raasay, Soay and Rona.  Letters of permission for the latter two were readily and helpfully obtained from the agents.  Our friends put me in touch with local boat owners, who were happy (for a consideration) to get me onto these islands - and more importantly - get me off again later.  Our 260 mile journey North was quite an event.  Luggage and walking gear for 3 weeks for 2 people plus my camping and radio gear took all of the boot, the back floor, seat and the roof of my vehicle.  We squeezed into the front seats while it positively groaned under the vast load.  The xyl complained, "Why can't we just go away like normal people?".   Commenting that perhaps island activators mightn't be totally normal didn't go down well at all.

PAGE  2

Mobile operation on Skye was no problem, but despite it's ease of access, I was quite surprised by the pile-up I generated on 20m.  One down - three to go !   The butterflies in my stomach matched the fresh to strong SW winds on my Soay day.  Up at 5am, I made Ergol jetty (Skye) by 7am and was horrified by the heaving sea below me.  To make matters worse,  it was raining heavily too.  I half hoped that Donald the boatman would decline the trip.  "Will we need to postpone it then", I said ?  "Not at all - ach ! - it's nobutt a wee breeze" said Donald, "ye'll no mind if the wifey comes along wi' us to burl the wheel eh?"   I suppose I should have realized my fate when he proceeded to securely lash down every item of my gear and then instructed me in the emergency use of a life-jacket.  We cast off with the world rising and falling at an alarming rate.  "Aboot 45 minutes", he said, "Mind ye now, if we hae go 'round the north end to yon west jetty - it aal depends on the seas  - maybe that'll tak another haalf 'oor.  Ye'll no mind payin' a bit extra f'that eh?". The boat smashed into huge seas, at times towering above us, drenching me with spray every second wave despite the closed cockpit. It was all I could do just clinging on.  I prayed we would land on the nearest bit of coast - any coast - and that this nightmare would soon end.  Eventually, once in the lee of Soay, the seas became much calmer and we picked up a mooring near the chosen "beach".  Heck ! that "beach" was nothing but a rough slope of boulders the size of my suitcases, over which big waves reared and crashed.  For the life of me I couldn't see how I'd get everything - or anything - ashore intact.  Now that the engines were stopped, the smell of diesel and the wallowing of the boat finally caused my breakfast to rebel.  I guess the fish under the stern got an extra feed but it left me feeling just a little better.  I was amazed at the skill with which Donald lowered a small inflatable and then proceeded to transfer all my gear into it until it looked grossly overloaded.  Finally he indicated that I should also step into it.  Oh my!  Only the fact that I'd have given anything to get dry land under my feet made me do it.   Miraculously we arrived at the boulders without being swamped and the waves didn't seem quite so big from close up.  We successfully unloaded everything without even getting my feet wet.  I still marvel at his skilled seamanship.   With a cheery "'Bye -  back t'morrow aboot 'noon then", I was left to my own devices on a strange, very wet, very windy and very boggy island.   Only the stimulation of my addiction enabled me to lug my equipment some 300+ yards over rock and bog to the nearest suitably flat and relatively firm bit of island.  Meantime the rain poured down - and spectacle wearers will know the misery of that. 

 Already my mind was full of apprehension, - thinking of the return journey !  I began to agree with my xyl's parting statement that morning - "You're mad" she'd said, "going to Soay in this weather!".   Well, mad or not, here I was and by heck I was going to put Soay "on the air".  With the tent up and transmitter, sleeping bag, air bed and foodstuffs etc safely inside, came the moment to erect the assembled mast and aerials.  It was so easy that day at the Devils Beef Tub - so why could - I - not  - manage  - to - lift - up - this - d .....d - mast - now.  If it bent any more or I pulled any harder - it would surely snap.   Laying it down, I thought about it.  What was it Ken (GM0AXY) once said ? - "Let the wind do the work for you "  OK - try from the other side - peg the windward guys about there  - and lift.  My, oh my! - up she  went so fast and effortlessly I only just held it from carrying on over and crashing down the other side.  Lesson learnt.  Finally on air just minutes late - lesson number two - it's easy working a pile-up in the home shack, but quite a different story lying on your stomach in a wee flapping tent, surrounded by bags and boxes with rain pelting down.  The major effort that day was simply keeping myself, the logsheets and the radio dry.  Since each band change involved dropping the aerial, changing taps and hoisting it again, inevitably I crawled back into my tent a little wetter each time.
About midnight the rain stopped.  I drank yet another cup of coffee, went out, got rid of the last three cups downwind of the tent and cut the genny off.  A sleeping bag was never more welcome.   Morning dawned bright and clear as my alarm woke me at 6am.  Coffee, an apple and onto 20m for a nice bit of DX.   The refueled genny started first pull - always a good omen - and I looked out over my island and beheld it was truly beautiful, totally transformed by the warm morning sunlight.  Still trying not to think about the return boat trip, I stopped for some cereal, tea and a bacon toasty, before hitting the LF bands around 8am, thinking to myself "This is the first time I've really stopped to eat anything".  Yesterday seemed a damp blur trapped in a wet tent, but the pile of completed log sheets was very satisfying. 

PAGE  3

  With over 600 contacts logged I eventually had to stop around 10am and pack up ready for the long haul back to that "beach".  Donald was already waiting and helped shift some gear - and mercifully the sea today was flat calm.  With rising spirits, I really enjoyed the cruise back to the mainland, supping tea with a wee dram on board.  Even the car started first go - it was going to be a nice day after all.  Just need to hurry north to the Raasay ferry terminal for the 12.30pm sailing.  Hurry ! - well hardly, on 25 miles of narrow single tracks before we hit the main road.  Stopped in Broadford for petrol for the genny, milk, bread and other mundane things,  - no time for /M operation.  Just made it as the gangway was about to be lifted.  Raasay is also a very beautiful island with some spectacular views from it's elevated coastal track.  I made good use of the one hotel for lunch plus a beer or two.   Finding a suitable high place to stop at the north end of the island I soon had a busy  /M pile-up on 40m and then 20m.  I had arranged to meet Paul, my new boatman, at 3pm, in the tiny hamlet of Arnish.   Finding his cottage empty, I explored the area without success.  A near vertical descent down a rough cliff path led to a small inlet.  Was this where he kept his boat?   It looked impossible and I couldn't see a boat, so it must be somewhere else - but where ?   I was sitting forlornly on a rock in his garden, almost giving up hope, when he arrived at 4.30pm saying, "Nay problem Pete - we'll jus' wait a wee while for fu' tide afore we get into the beach (south end Rona) 'cos of they submerged rocks offshore". 

 I gulped. "How long must we wait (worrying about QRVs) and are you sure it will be safe then ?"  "Nay bother - I haen't hit one yet. We'll gie it a try in aboot an hour".  "How do I get my gear down to your boat ?", I said, "it's far too bulky and heavy to carry it down that cliff path".   "Nay problem", quoth he, "we'll use my buggy wi' the trailer".  He opened an old wooden shed door to reveal this rusty home made buggy - all welded bits of motorcycle parts with Honda buggy wheels and a trailer that looked very like the back end of a Ford Escort.  "Hauled 500 crates o' crabs up there last week" he assured me, "Nay bother ataal".  From the overpowering fishy smell, I believed him.  With everything strapped down in and on and around me, we started a 45 degrees dive, slithering and slipping down that gravel path, no wider than 8 feet, with a 150 ft drop over the side. Believe me - I'd rather ride the big dipper at Blackpool anyday  than experience the terror of that descent again.  Luckily I live to continue this tale.
The ride in his open outboard powered dingy must have been reasonable, because this time my stomach didn't rebel and 40 minutes later there I was, all alone with a pile of gear on a narrow shingle beach on Rona.  It was already well past my estimated QRV, so hauling everything onto a grassy slope above the high tide mark, I erected tent and aerial in great haste.  The tent was a shambles.  With the radio perched on my knee I put out a test CQ to see if I was "getting out".  It was instantly answered by Denise (M0ADG), who then held the frequency (thank you) while I tidied up the tent a bit.  The QRM was hectic, but the log sheets filled up fast.  80m then 40m and by 11pm onto 20m.  By 2am I'd forgotten half the alphabet phonetics, got my call-sign wrong 3 times in a row and was slurring my words, surely time to kill the power and crawl into my bag.  Lovely!  peace and quiet at last - just the gentle rustle of waves and the murmur of wind in the mast and guys as I drifted off to sleep. 
Suddenly I was awake.  It was pitch black and there was a lot of noise.  My watch said 4am.  The tent was flapping furiously and was in imminent danger of blowing away.  A screeching banshee wail came from the direction of the aerials.   Scrambling out, I was almost blown off my feet by the force of the wind - now coming straight offshore.  I looked at the mast.  It was bowed and bent in a big arc, the radius of which seemed impossibly small.  I desperately wanted to run over and move the guys, but preservation of the tent took priority.  Picture this nude man racing around his tent in the starlight, tightening guys and desperately piling stones around the base, while the wind roared and howled all around.  I told myself. "Don't panic !" - but what was I to do if everything just blew away, leaving me on an uninhabited island with no clothes, no shelter, no food, no radio - - - - how long would I survive ?  Laughable now, but real scary at the time.  Some gusts must have easily exceeded 60 mph.  Horrified, I watched my mast, stressed beyond endurance,  snap near the middle with a loud crack, bringing aerials, guys and halyards crashing  around my ears.  For an eternity - probably just 20 minutes or so, I desperately clung to the tent, determined it would not blow out of my grasp and praying it would not tear itself to pieces.  



PAGE  4

  Strangely I wasn't cold, or if I was I didn't feel it.   With enormous relief, I noticed that the wind was moderating, the gusts not so hard edged.   It was another 15 minutes before I dared let go and dive inside.   Putting on all the dry clothes I could find, I ventured out to survey the damage.  It was 5am and dawn was breaking.   The wind was but a shadow of itself now,  just a moderate breeze.  It took a whole hour sorting, disentangling and packing the mess of bits away.   A big mug of hot tea and beans in a roll made me feel much better.  Out came the fishing rod 15 ft emergency vertical (another Andre special) and I was back on the air by 6.30am, with lesson No:3 learnt the hard way.  Never, ever, go to sleep with the mast up. It is so simple - release the downwind guys and lay it flat into wind.  Two more log sheets were filled with 40m and 20m contacts before Paul arrived early at 09.30am. "Better gie on then, - tide's ebb'n fast", he said.  "Did ye hae a gud nicht ?".  While he helped me pack and load I recounted my experience a few hours earlier.  "Nothing a' that a' Raasay - but there ye go- tha's islan' life for ye.  Gled ye're no' the worse. Och aye -  your mast'll mend back hame"   Maybe an every day event for him, but a well kent lesson for this island activator. 
The cliff climb seemed trivial going up-the-ways.  I wasn't scared at all, or maybe I didn't scare quite so easily by now.  Mobile operation for the rest of the morning on 40m and 20m from my high point on Raasay was most enjoyable, but so tame by comparison.  Best 73 were passed to my last contact as I was boarding the 3-15pm ferry back to the mainland.    Would I do it again ?   You may well ask.   Hah !  Just watch this space.  An island addict MUST have shot after shot of adrenaline to survive, and I guess I'm hooked.


Peter Bower
GM3OFT 
   




