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I suppose it's because I have so much time on my hands these days, that all these memories come flooding back to me.

Removal Man

It was after being away working down South that I returned to my home town after being paid off on completion of contract. Being a sub contractor in the oil construction business means you do have periods between jobs when there is not a lot of work. Yet I still had the same bills to pay whether I was working or not, so I applied for a job with a national removal company that happened to have a branch in my home town.

After an interview I was given the position of porter and started working straight away. I never had a heavy goods licence so I could not drive the big sixteen ton trucks, but I could drive the smaller seven and a half ton truck they had. This lorry was normally single-manned due to its smaller size, and the company used it quite a lot for jobs that required using ferries, as it was cheaper for the ferry charges.
The company also had what they called 'casuals'; these were men that lived in the remote regions like the Western Isles, and only worked if a load was coming into their area.

On some occasions I was to be given money to pay who ever helped me with the job as long as that person signed the piece of paper. This was the way that the company had worked it in the past, and it seemed a rather strange way of conducting business, but the funny thing was it appeared to work! So who was I to argue?

Now a regular run that this truck did was to the island of Benbecula in the Outer Hebrides which was away out in the wilderness. The RAF had a small air base there where they tested missiles by firing them across the water to a deserted island. Anyway, my job was to take a load over there and deliver it to the warehouse, where some poor family was to be sent out later. Then I had to go to the married quarters and load a family's house contents for the return trip. I was given a map and a timetable of the ferries and the keys to the truck and told just to get on with it. I was glad in a way that I was on my own, although dreading the thought of finding help at the other end.

I had met a few of my fellow workmates while we were loading my truck at the depot. They were an ok bunch of lads, well lets face it, it's hardly the kind of work where you're going to find choir boys!
Anyway, after we loaded I headed off for the Isle of Skye. I wanted to get to the ferry point early that evening to be sure of a place in the ferry queue first thing in the morning.

So I headed off in this big truck and made my way to the ferry point for Skye on the West coast. It was around ten at night when I arrived and parked my truck on the white line which meant I was first on in the HGV section of the queue.

After I had made myself my supper and a mug of tea, I made the bed up in the cabin of the truck. It was then I noticed that the truck was facing the wrong way for me to sleep, as I kept rolling out of bed! So I just started it up and turned it around, and went to sleep. It wasn't until early the next morning that I noticed my mistake, after being woken up by the sounds of more trucks arriving. Due to the steepness of the ramp and the low ground clearance of my truck, I could not reverse on to the ferry, and much to my embarrassment the whole line of trucks behind me had to move in order for me to turn around. This did not make me very popular with the other truck drivers and, to make matters worse, during the turning in the tight space left to me, I thought I was going to lose the whole truck as it was parallel with the jetty and leaning right over!

Eventually I was on the ferry and heading for the Isle of Skye. It was a short crossing so I just stayed in my cab. In fact, truth be told, I was too embarrassed to go out and face all the other drivers! There was a lot more to this removal business than I had thought. After the crossing I was soon heading for Uig on the other side of the island where I would be catching another ferry to Lochmaddy on Benbecula. It was a pleasant drive and soon I was at the ferry point. This time I managed to get on the ferry without causing problems for anyone else. This crossing took a lot longer so I managed a nap while crossing. It was too wet and windy to stroll the decks, and I had seen enough of the sea when I was in the Navy.

The first thing I noticed after we landed on Benbecula were the narrow roads - so narrow that, at times, I had to really concentrate to prevent slashing the sides of the tyres on the breeze black edges. These were found on the sides of the long causeways that bridged the waters. They were single lane causeways with passing points every hundred yards and, with the strong side winds blowing the truck, it made the drive interesting, to say the least!

Then I met her, a stubborn woman local driver who would not reverse her car the ten yards to the passing point behind her. I tried to explain to her in sign language, that she was closer to a passing point than I was, yet she still expected me to reverse that big truck the eighty yards back. By now I was not in the mood for more confrontation so I just switched the engine off, and started to read the paper I had bought earlier.

In fact it was not until another local driver, who had pulled up behind her, eventually explained that she was, indeed, closer to a passing point, that she explained to him that she could not use reverse gear on her car! So he jumped into her car and reversed back for her. Which made me wonder if she even had a driving licence at all, as life on these islands was indeed different?

I knew I would easily find this RAF base as there only was one road on the island, so even I couldn't get lost! In fact it was not long before I was reversing the truck into the warehouse to unload. When I had finished I asked the staff where I could use a telephone as I had to contact this local porter the company used whose number they had passed on. The warehouse man asked me who I was going to call, which I thought strange, but gave him the name nevertheless. 'Ah!' he said, 'You won't find him for a few days; he is up in his bothy in the hills.' I never realized that everyone, indeed, did know each other on this small island. He went on to explain that it was quite common for men to disappear for days at a time to their bothies on drink binges!

So now I had no one to help me for the next day, but I did not want to worry about that then. It had been a long, stressful day already and I just wanted to park up and get some sleep. I was told that, since I was loading up from the camp the next day, I could park up on the base and use their facilities. I soon found the NAFFI and had a couple of pints and a meal before returning to my truck for a sleep.

As I was driving to the 'married quarters' part of the base early the next morning, I was trying to think up reasons to tell the customer why I was on my own. I need not have worried at all as, when I arrived, the whole family were so glad to see me and to load the truck that they started carrying out furniture before I even got the tail gate down!

They explained to me later that they had been stuck on the island for a two year term of duty and were desperate to get off the island and get back to the main land. In fact I did want to thank them for all their help, so I made a deal with the father to sign the piece of paper for the porter's wages and split it between his two children, who had indeed been a great help. So, in the end, everyone was happy and I headed back with my return load.

I made quite a few trips over there while I was with that company, and every one was an adventure. It made me wonder if all those stories and songs we hear about the Western Isles are true. I know this is one is for a fact because I lived it. I wonder if it's still the same now? I doubt it, as all these islands have been settled by the white settlers now, so it will all have changed probably!

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