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Dougies Stag Party

By Bob Campbell

Canoeing, like party going, is an activity which justifies itself, and givespleasure of quite a different kind. Both of course are all the moreenjoyable given some objective or reason, and therefore what more couldbe desired than a weekend trip by canoe on our loveliest loch to attenda party on the occasion of Dougies last weekend as a bachelor.

I had left home that day, not knowing of the party, and consequentlynot prepared for an overnight stay on Inchmurrin. However, in the best

tradition of the weekending fraternity I was soon presented with foodand a sleeping bag to entice me to attend the party.

Being a little disorganised and not very experienced at loading mycanoe, I was last to set off, therefore suffering the additional penalty ofhaving to lock up the boathouses. By the time I reached the campsiteeveryone had gone, so without bothering to pitch my tent, I changedhurriedly into my party clothes, corduroys and commando boots and set

off at a cracking pace along the half mile of shore to the opening amongthe trees, leading to the easiest route across the island to the Hotel. Thisis the lowest part of the ridge, marking the highland boundary faultwhich runs the length of the island, and it is the crossing of this part ofthe ridge which is never seen in quite the same light on the return journey.The final 100 yards to the Hotel is downhill all the way and by the timeI arrived I was ready to slake the thirst which I had taken a great deal oftrouble to acquire.

The party was in full swing at one end of the sun lounge and aroundthe tables were gathered some well known faces together with manyother past and present members whom I had not previously met. Suchoccasions invariably attract a much better turnout than the A.G.M!Dougie , without whom this party would not have been convened wasseated at one end of the table and presided over the proceedings in hisown quiet and unruffled manner. To my relief, since by then I was alsovery hungry, a large plateful of sandwiches was brought to the table, andin no time with some help from me, a few crumbs remained to testify totheir earlier existence.

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The membership does not lack a number of excellent singers and toback them up there are some who also, and some who only, know thewords. Speaking for myself; having the greatest difficulty inremembering the words of any song, I might say with some truth that

my singing is far better than my memory! To return to our songsters, Ifind it impossible to describe in words the pleasure of that closing hourwhen all these talents combined to work on some of our sweetest songs.The journey back to camp is naturally a little more hazardous in the dark,and undertaken usually in quite a different spirit. The chief obstacle isan electrified fence which must be got over or under without touchingthe wire and which under normal circumstances is negotiated with sobercunning. Returning from the Hotel, however, and possessed by

unnatural courage, some lads take this fence scissors fashion, blissfullyunmindful of the awful risk they run. My method of clearing this devilishobstacle is to do a series of barrel rolls at zero feet, beginning a few yardsaway from the fence and ending halfway down the hill, when I am quitecertain there is no risk of contacting the fence I stand up. There is arisk of course that you overshoot and land in the loch, which is shallowanyway at that point, or that your best clothes may be soiled by contactwith some fertiliser.

A few of our party made the return journey to camp in Hamishs dingy,by rowing round the Southern tip of the island and arriving somewhatlater than the main party. Their vulnerability, being fully clothed andsurrounded by water was a great temptation to the mischievous spiritsamong us and soon a reception party suitably undressed was arrangedin the shallows, just offshore. The attackers, guided by the splashing ofoars and the chatter, waylaid the unsuspecting crew and showered them

with armfuls of water. This was all good clean fun and although thenight was dark, made an exciting spectacle as warring pairs, showeredin spray, were caught in the flickering lights of our camp fire.

All inhibitions removed, the sodden warriors stripped to the buff andstood in a circle drying off by the heat from the fire. Surveying thissplendid sight, I thought of the nudists, said to inhabit this part of theworld, and wondered if our club would now qualify for affiliation.

As is usual after such bursts of activity there is a lull during whicheveryone relaxes or retires to lick ones wounds, and it was during theensuing quiet as most of us lay sprawled around the fire , that Hamish

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must have decided that we should all exercise our intellects for a change.Still rubbing his beard vigorously with a towel, he announced that thesubject for the evenings discussion would be What is our purpose inlife?.

Under such a heading it would be difficult to rule any contribution asout of order, and consequently the discussion which followed rangedfrom the bombing of the town of Guernica during the Spanish Civil warto the state of marriage. To a few of us in the company both subjects hadtouched our lives in some degree and although not directly related wererelevant to the subject heading.

In other circumstances a discussion like this would be terminatedprematurely by the need to catch the last bus home, or to allow theneighbours some peace and quiet. No such considerations intruded onthis occasion! Personal inclination and stamina determined bed time foreach one of us, I surrendered at 04.00 hours, my last recollection beingthe sound of two or three still debating as I snuggled into my sleepingbag.....

A few minutes later, or so it seemed to me, my sleep was ended by therattle of dixies and the noise of a primus stove being pumped as myneighbours in the adjoining tent started to prepare breakfast. Unable tosleep any longer, I got up to have a look at the new day. My attentionwas attracted to the scene of our all night sitting, where two bodies layhuddled close to the remains of the fire, fast asleep, I wondered whichone of them had the last word.

Bob Campbell Spring 1967.