Dougie MacDougall - As Long as Water Flows

Saturday, September 22 2007

During our trip in May Arra Fletcher told us a lot about some of the characters that live(d) on Islay and he had some great stories to tell. He particularly advised me to search for a little booklet at the Celtic Shop from Dougie MacDougall who lived in Port Askaig. Dougie MacDougall was 20 years old when he inherited his father's position of Lighthouse Boatman. He served the Sound of islay lights for 45 years until his retirement in 1977 and one of his hobbies was writing and in his book he gives a humorous and factual account of the times he worked as a lighthouse boatman. I found the little booklet and enjoyed reading it a lot, if you ask for it at C&E Roy's they know exactly what you mean. I would like to quote a little story written down by Dougie MacDougall...

I shall tell you chaps of the night, I went visiting old friends at a place you both know, Mulreesh. This as you know is about two and a half miles from here, with a short cut from the village of Keills, past the churchyard, through fields and bogs to Mullach Buidhe and Mulreesh. I was returning the short cut about twelve o'clock at night, after a good ceilidh among my old friends. It was very dark. When nearing the graveyard I heard squelching footsteps staggering up from the main road along a very dirty access road to the graveyard. This was an old friend of mine, Duncan Bell. He was making his way home after a boozy night at the pub. Duncan was one of the toughest. he was just as happy having a doss out in the open as he would be in a downy bed; that is of course, when he was on the bottle!

Well, under the circumstances I did not got to meet Duncan, so I climbed up the iron gate at the corner of the graveyard and jumped in just behind the wall. Duncan squelched along that dirty road and just stopped to take a breather beside me, on the other side of the wall. I took a keek over, in time to see him frisk a bottle of whisky from his pocket, and holding it on high, trying to see what the amount of whisky was left in it. On impulse, without thinking, I stretched out my hand, grabbed the bottle and had it safe in my pocket before Duncan realised what had happened. In due course he gave a frightful yell, opened the gate and ran as though the devil was after him. He disappeared in the darkness.... I have no doubt that for one night he would not sleep outside or even very soundly inside, after that gruesome experience.

Keills Graveyard - The scene of the 'crime'

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