Overindulging on Sanday isn’t just for Easter…
The Real Mackay by Dan Mackay
I bet the shopkeeper in Sanday won’t be making the same mistake this year as he did last year.
You may remember the news story when he ordered 80 Easter eggs for the north Orkney island’s children only to receive a delivery of 80 cases instead! That’s 720 chocolate eggs for a population of about 500.
Cue an immediate crisis. And what to do?
I don’t think the island children will forget 2024 in a hurry – the year they maxed out on multiple Easter eggs. Think of the rapid spikes in blood sugar levels, the fatigue, irritability and mood swings… I’m sure it’s all settled by now.
In my 20-odd-year career as a care inspector I routinely visited many care services across the Orkney islands. It was a gift of a job.
I once had an epic drinking session, entirely unintended, which, as it happens also took place on Sanday.
I had taken the short Loganair flight from Kirkwall to the grass strip on Sanday. The island had one care home for older people.
“You can wear George’s slippers” the owner, eyeing my muddy shoes, told me as I entered the premises. The inspection itself was short and sweet but curiosity got the better of me and I gently enquired who George was, the man whose slippers I was wearing. George, she told me, was the now retired previous inspector. How very cosy!
Inspection over, I had hours to spare as I was booked to return on the evening ferry.
My mum had had a recent hip replacement op and one of dad’s amateur radio friends, who transmitted from Sanday, had sent flowers, so my folks asked if I could look up this friend, Arthur, and pass on their regards.
Arthur’s old croft house with an array of radio masts and antennae leaning over precariously from the prevailing wind in a rather bare and austere landscape, was easy to spot. The wintry blasts were taking their toll.
I knocked on the door and it opened hesitatingly. Arthur, the spit of Uncle Albert from Only Fools and Horses, was delighted to welcome a stranger and ushered me in from the inclement weather.
A warm, chatty and hospitable man, I liked him immediately.
The house interior was strange. No internal walls just hessian cloths hanging from wiring to create separate domestic areas…
He led me through a hessian room divider into his radio shack and I felt like I had just walked into a James Bond film set. In this most unassuming croft house, seemingly in the back of beyond, was a sophisticated array of radio receivers, transmitters and satellite tracking oscilloscopes, antennae boosters… it certainly had the wow factor!
Arthur was no amateur. Quite the opposite. His modestly shared knowledge was quite astounding.
He appeared with a bottle of Highland Park. I gladly accepted a dram. All I remember as I downed that first scoosh was a crystal cut glass full of floaters all suitably anaesthetised as I, too, quickly became…
An empty bottle later Arthur drove me down to the ferry terminal. I made it just in time.
I have absolutely no recollection of any events that followed. I woke up the next morning in my hotel room fully clothed.
Like the Sanday shopkeeper, I never made that mistake again.