My twenty first birthday on the Sacred isle

Traighmor was a wonderful croft which faced due south across Sandeels bay and Mull and on a clear day Jura and other isles were visible. I was working on this croft at that time with Calum Cameron. Most of the winter would see Calum and me collecting 'wreck' for the 'tattie patch' clearing iris roots out the stream and generally looking after cattle and sheep. The crofting life was a hard existence especially when you were a twenty year old aspiring musician and all you wanted to do is spend time at the Abbey with the community socialising and playing music.

One morning the old man turned and said. 'Och you know we need to get some dung out on the tattie patch before it's too wet so you go just now and do the turnips and feed the sheep then i'll meet you in the house for a coffee.

It was while having a coffee the old man explained his system. Looking up with his narrow eyes and toothless grin he told me that I could now get on with filling the dung spreader while he took a coffee.. When I'd finished loading it, then to come back into the croft house for another coffee while he went and emptied it. When he came back from the emptying, then he'd take another coffee while I went out to fill the spreader up again then I could take another coffee while he went out and continued the good work.

After loading the spreader three times I was absolutely wacked and wondered when it would be my turn to empty the spreader while the old man filled it. Unfortunately it did'nt work this way round!

That wonderful February evening the moon shone straight across the sound lighting up the bay and the sea made its familiar noises....This was the evening of my twenty first birthday and a small gathering was held at the croft. It was nothing pretentious just a few crofters and some people from the Iona community. Later I played a small concert in the Abbey. I performed some of those early songs i'd chipped away at over the months.One particular song called 'Wherever you may be' was performed recently in the 'Alone recordings' I was twenty one now and a crofter on the Isle of Iona wondering what on earth was going to happen to me in the future.

And so to Mull

By the end of that year I was married to the secretary of the Iona Community. We had spent a lot of time traversing the Western Isles looking for or own croft. During our visit to Skye i'd been accosted in Gaelic! and my Gaelic was not all that fluent so the thought of having to live in a Gaelic speaking community in a croft north of Portree was not in my mind at the time.

It was by chance that we decided to look on the neighbouring island of Mull. During our tour of the island we came upon a derelect farmhouse situated on the road between Calgary and the village of Dervaig. On inspection it looked as if the cows had made a home of it because the whole of the ground floor was caked in cow dung. The outbuildings were spacious but ramshackle and it looked fantastic.

We learned the property was up for sale and immediately set about making an offer.

Neither of had any money nor did we have a job of any kind but providence seemed to prevail and out of the thirty or so offers made for the farmhouse our meagre offer was accepted.

It was an unbelievable experience to stand on the steps of the Argyle and Bute district council offices in Tobermory to take posession of the house keys from a Mr MacNab even though there did not appear to be any discernable 'door' on hinges anywhere on the property.

Frachadil Farmhouse was void of any form of electric watersupply (which came from the Hill) heating or telephone. It had been buried in decades of dung and neglect.So over the next three years we dug the farmhouse out of the mire and renovated the property.

We shipped the majority of the fixtures and fittings and a lot of the building materials from the south of England in a rented van.

We turned the land we presently had into a huge market garden and aquired goats and cats by the dozen.

I can still remember the cats names.. Burt Purdy Scriker Greedy Puss Captain Beakie Kitcat and there must have been many more.

It was November 1977 that our phone number Dervaig 265 finally was installed..

Two problems in those days in the Isles Television and telephone lines..Frachadil could only recieve a weak 405 signal which consisted of white snow and a faint picture.

If we put a big areal out on the nearby hill and cabled it to the house our television set would recieve a faint 625 picture again showered in snow.

So our weekend out consisted of a trip to Dervaig for supper at our friends house where a colour television was available and we could watch a few good programmes.

I'd begun to write again which resulted in several new songs..eanie Blue Lonliness to me Green Green Apples and Dervaig 265 (after the new telephone number) and my mate Roddy from Calgary seemed impressed.

'You need to record them. I know someone who would listen to a tape but you need them recorded.'

I phoned an old friend in the north of England called Roger and he arranged for me to enter a studio in Rochdale Lancs in order to record three songs. We arranged the sessions and I found myself en route to Cargo Studios.

John Brierley was the engineer and for the sessions I was to work with Roger on Bass and Cirinda Sin Cabra on Guitars.

Cinders as he was known was of indian origin with a mean guitar attack. He wasted no time in getting to grips with 'Jeanie Blue' a blatant Dave Bowie influenced pop song which required hand claps and vocal chants. We also had a live drummer.

I recall getting the vocals completely out of tune and trying desperately to correct them. Cinders came up with a blistering guitar solo while the whole studio group provided the handclaps.

Recording 'lonliness to me' was quite a spiritual experience for I had written this song in Frachadil while the renovation was in full swing and we had literally no where to live. For the recording I played a slightly out of tune honky tonk piano while the drummer laid down a simple but effective drum track. I did all vocals and backing vocals and Roger did bass.

This particular track seemed to gell and was to set the precedence of style for my music in the years to come.

The song Dervaig 265 was for me a bit of a thrash. It was all instramental and sounded better solo on a grand piano than it did with all the musician backing we had in the studio. Again this song was to teach me a lesson in simplicity.

I learned that good songs can stand up with a good vocal and simple accompanyments. but I was happy and i was writing again and the songs had began to flow.

Back on the Isle of Mull the tapes were favourably recieved and Roddy began the task of 'getting them out there' as he termed it. Roger had recieved a very favourable response from some big producer in London who suggested we send him some more material meanwhile life on the island for the two youngsters was getting increasingly difficult.

Back to Iona: 72

I recall arriving back on Iona for a long extended summer in 1973, and feeling exited at the prospect of a 'Party' being held on the Machair. Iona can be dark at night, and for the young lad, freshly back from a visit to the streetlights and fog of a dirty old Lancashire town found the slight re-ajustment to the Machair road in the moonlight 'dark to say the least'.

Walking down the moonpath that evening towards the machair gate I could hear the faint sounds of guitars and laughter. A pushbike passed me with two strange lookng characters huddled on the seat and crossbar the rear one had his big jumbo styled guitar dangling down his back. They stopped a little distance ahead and waited for me to catch them up.

Their appearance put the fear of god into me and easpecially when one of them asked 'Have you got any dope man?'

To be honest I did not have a clue what 'dope' was in those days.The scene changed when this guy unslung his guitar and began to play it..a very bad rendition of Neil youngs 'Tell me Why' from 'After the Gold Rush' Album.

'Can you play the guitar?' he asked. 'come on down to the party man and listen to some far out music!

That evening I sat a little distance away from the 'hippy group' and watched as they built their large beach fire higher and listened as they strummed on their battered acoustic guitars. The music drifted across the machair and seemed to become entangled in the moonlight. For me it was magic!

Our croft was situated in the centre of the island more or less and the track which ran past the croft gate led to the four roads and the Machair. One morning I was clearing the byre out when a voice shouted from the gate..

'Hey am I on the right road to Columba's Bay man? ' I looked up and responded. The stranger shouted again 'Hey man have you a place for tonight? ' 'Don't know ' i said 'Need to speak over at the croft house'.

The stranger was dressed in a blazing yellow and red shirt with a smattering of other colours in between the colour seams.

He had on a shammy leather waist coat and velvet gold bell bottom trowser's with a twisted leather throng holding them up and knee length leather boots into which the bottom of his trowsers were tucked into. His hair was blond and short he had a beard and sported an outsized pair of tinted sunglasses.

'Hi there my names Dilly John man whats yours? ' ' Nigel ' I said. ' You staying long ? ' 'No not long man i'm just here for the vibes and to write a few new songs.' Again I'd noticed a battered twelve string guitar slung over his back which he seemed to lean on with one arm. Later Dilly told me his story.

He was in a group of 'Hippy Dillies' who all lived on Kings Cross Station in London. they all had individual names which all began with the prefix 'Dilly' ' He could play the guitar well and soon began showing me some new chords. We sat outside on the small hillock that evening in the sunset while Dilly crooned some gentle folk songs his roll up tucked neatly into the side of his lip. He then began to weep gently. He told me his woman had left him and she'd had a baby.

Then Dilly looked at me and muttered. 'Hey your a song writer? ' ' Yea ' I said. ' Then you can write a tune to my words ok? ' ''Ok' I said. Dilly reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a dirty slip of paper. He passed it to me. The words read:

' Sit down beside me my lady fine I'll give you loving like honey and wine I'll tell you I love you I'll tell you I care But tommorrow I'll be gone! I'll find a ring for your left hand and adorn your hair with a golden band I'll lie beside you the whole night through but tomorrow I'll be gone. And you will will bear me a baby boy and it will be my pride and joy and I will love you truly still but still tomorrow I'll be gone.'

I wrote some music for the words that evening and performed it for him on his battered old guitar the following day. When I'd finished he was emotional and he embraced me 'Far out man that's just far out!' This was the last time I ever saw Dilly John and the first 'song' I had ever written properly. I was twelve years old at the time.

Back in the old grey Lancashire town: 1973

'Do you want to be in the folk group or don't you.? Bob Pearce the Spanish teacher said to me cradling his 'Big Bertha' in his arms! A beautiful hand made spanish guitar with 'pegs in' for machine heads! 'I want to write my own songs' I replied looking at my own spanish guitar strung with steel strings to make it sound like an acoustic. Bob continued.

'And if your not careful that bridge will one day come flying back at you because it's only stuck on with glue... there's too much stress on it and your not Bob Dylan you know.'

It was a turning point. I was at a stage at school where folk music was boring me. My own songs had begun to take precedence and Neil young was my hero. 'GoldRush' had been a phoenominal success and I was beginning to write songs in this vein. Bob Pearce seemed to be the cross between an eternal folkie and a Spanish Flemenco guitarist and I was attracting the French conversation teacher because I'd spend all my lunch hours playing my own songs on the piano and especially when she was walking by.

Then Bob asked me to be in his special flemenco band 'Los Panchos' which consisted of himself and the English teacher who was also called Bob. So for the school concert and much to the delight of Frederique the French conversation mistress the two Bobs and me took to the stage in Ponchos and Spanish hats playing and singing such songs as 'La Ca Curacha ' and to end the set 'Sweet Anne Marie dont turn away ' a song by by Nigel H Seymour.

The song got a great applause and several people came up after the show to ask about it. Bob Pearce gave me a lift home afterwards in his three wheeler Robin Reliant. During the journey we talked about music and all the different types of songs in the world. then Bob turned to me and said. ' I know you will write your own songs now but I hope you will keep a little of what we have shared together with our guitars in your heart..

It was one of the last times I was to have contact with Bob Pearce. For I was to return to Scotland on a permanent basis.

But thirty six years later I am still reflecting on what I was able to learn from Bob for without him and his enthusiasm for guitars and songs I would possibly not be anywhere close to playing a guitar nor indeed to have retained an interest in the instrament to a professional level.

The Glorious Eighties '

I'm not entirely sure what happened to me during the initial stages of the eighties..all I can say is that I spent the vast majority of my time being hell bent on becoming a successful concert singer. I'd studied 'singing' and 'performance' at music college and with numerous different international singers both in Munich and London, and my confusion became even greater. I was'nt entirely happy singing in a classical way,and I leaned heavily towards writing and performing my own songs in my own particular vein...Eventually after divine intervention I woke up one morning in 1984 and decided to stop singing in a classical way and concentrate soley on my songwriting. It was not until 1985 and one international expedition to South America with David Hempleman-Adams that I wrote a series of short songs which still remain unrecorded. 'Foreigner' were at the height of their popularity with a song canned 'I want to know what love is' and I was aching to get back to South America in my own right as an 'Adventurer'. The ideas for songs now seemed to pour out of me,and ideas were worked through,written down and simply filed away. Now another expedition loomed on the horrizon and I'd come up with an idea to link together two sea going kayaks and put 'sails' on them. My strange lifestyle of believing in conceptions and writing songs seemed obsurd,and even today when i think about the experiences it all still seems rather obsurd,but the reality was beckoning and through sheer luck and providence I ended up en route once more to South America and Cape Horn, together with a big box in which was housed the 'Kaymaran' the worlds first sailing kayaks. I was to attempt the rounding of the Horn utilising this contraption. This period of my life was to be the beginning of my music in a proper way, and the back drop for the inspiration for at least three of my early albums.