Ferry Passenger Profiles.
08/14/2006
The northerly breezes veer to the southwest and the weather girls talk of wind and rain tomorrow, which we need for the river, whence Lachie has banished most of the girl’s guests after a disastrous display on the rifle range. I was pleased to see that dearest Dottie led the scores when she pulled off her party trick of removing the centre from an Ace of Spades at 400 yards with her father’s old 303, shooting from the hip, what a gal. I have been tied to the desk following last week’s jaunt, catching up with correspondence; however, I managed to organise a short course on bird identification for the young guests who have been standing at the side of one of the hay fields hoping for a pot at some Glasgow pidgeon fancier’s pet. I had to warn them not to be tempted by the wonderful aerobatics that the young swallows and house martins are performing now that the second brood is in the air, and I was surprised that only a couple of lads had every seen a chough. I was surrounded by these rarities on the western cliffs of Colonsay when I went to pay my respects to Giuseppe Delgrosso, late of the Arandora Star, whose memorial I visited last week.
Although conversation is not encouraged during breakfast at the Great Table of Trollaigh, the young have been fairly prattling on about the security restriction imposed by Doctor “Tongs Ya Bas” Reid. I did wonder whether or not he could pull off his “tough on terrorism” pose, in the face of middle Britain’s need to whiz off to the costas during the school hols, and of course there has been a huge u-turn because of the risk of egg and tomato landing on the ministerial physog. The good Doctor should have come to Caledonian MacBrayne for advice on his problems, as Cal-mac has operated a policy of passenger profiling for years. Ranger’s supporters are not allowed onto the Barra ferry, Muileaichs, being swarthy and for the most part bearded, may only travel to Craignuire or Fishnish, and the final twist of influence being the humouring of Lord Srathconna’s fear of Arabs and Camels, with the Colonsay ferry being firmly labelled “No Caravans”. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.