 |
|
Island Life
The Monastery
barge St Brigid arrives at its Papa Stronsay mooring,
Life on an Orkney Isle
The friendliness and helpfulness of the 380 inhabitants of Stronsay, our closest neighbouring island, half a mile away, is most heartening and a tonic in this impersonal world. When we arrived here, there was a certain thrill experienced when, living like the locals, we learned to leave our car unlocked with the keys in the ignition as we set off in our boat across the waters to Papa Stronsay; and of course the car was always there when we returned. There are very few places where this can still be done in the world. There is no theft on Stronsay, on the contrary the people of Stronsay have a very great concern for their neighbour’s property. The local people of Stronsay have always been very welcoming to us. Full of goodness, they have gone to great lengths to instruct us in local history, farming and the ever-changing sea . Many a time we have come down to our boat to find that someone with eyes more watchful than ours had loosened the ropes which we had tied without reflecting that the tide was going down and that our boat could be left hanging in the air. Last night, 10 October, we were yet again to experience their virtue and encourgement when we quite literally reaped the storm. The weather of the day was strong and, having come to Stronsay to work on the production of Catholic, it was not possible to make the return journey home to Papa Stronsay in the evening. We therefore took shelter for the night in our Stronsay base, St. Cormac’s House. As winds howled at 60 mph, we were brought the news that our second boat (which we recently bought for safer crossing to Papa Stronsay) had sunk in the harbour as a result of the East-North-Easterly direction of the storm. Alarmed at the news, we left immediately for the boat to find that it indeed had been upturned by the sea. It was impossible to do anything because of the violence of the waves and the darkness. By high tide the waves were coming across the pier, and our old boat Stella Maris, although somewhat more protected, was also taking in water. Our neighbours then showed the depth of their concern. Men offered their help and were even ready to answer the call to action there and then in the darkness of the night and the storm; but it was too dangerous. Nevertheless, a neighbour told Brother Marcel-Marie that he was going to get up at 3:30 in the morning to check the boat at low tide at four a.m., and would Brother like to come along with him. Left to ourselves in this situation, we were in a lot of trouble. But this morning, without any organisation, help was offered as freely as it had been the night before: our neighbours Mr James Stout snr. and Mr William Millerl led the proceedings and Mr David Harcus supplied the tractor. In the afternoon, we wanted to have the boat taken to Kirkwall on the Orkney Mainland to be repaired. Once again our neighbours showed their spirit of self-sacrifice: Mr Alec Harcus kindly offered to let us use his Land Rover (which he had been planning on using for his own business), and Mr James Stout jnr, our Harbour Master, arranged for our boat to get onto the ferry for the evening, rather than let us wait until morning. In the grimness of our boat loss we were encouraged by our neighbours and we know it made such a difference for us. We were strangers when we came here and in a short time we have found ourselves at home. Even if you do not live on a remote island, your Mass centre is a community of people you can trust and whom you can help. Take from our experience the importance of making people welcome in the place where you go to Mass; welcome new parishioners, show them hospitality and help them to carry their crosses. And please remember to say a prayer for the people of Stronsay; they have been good to us - may God be good to them!
Life on an Orkney Isle
In last month’s edition of Catholic, our foreign readers may have been surprised or mystified when we wrote about yows and kye, and put the English words ewes and cows in brackets. In the south of England – as in most places in the English-speaking world - the local dialects take a very secondary place to “Received Standard English”. Here in Orkney, the local dialect is a part of everyday life, both at home and at work. Each island has its own specific vocabulary, but in general the Orcadian dialect is influenced by Scots and Norse. Most of the words bear a resemblance to common English, and for those which do not, the meaning usually can be understood by the context. One of our neighbours, “The Bard of Stronsay,” well-versed in Orcadian history and language, has graciously accepted our request to give our readers a taste of Orkney by translating two Christmas carols into the local dialect. The following translation represents a milestone. Our holy Father St Alphonsus has the enviable record of having his writings translated into more languages than Shakespeare. Now, to add to his glory, his Christmas hymn Tu scende dalle stelle, originally written in the Neapolitan dialect, is rendered into yet another dialect: Orcadian! We trust that you will be charmed by the naturalness of these interpretations, which so aptly reflect the simplicity of the shepherds who visited the new-born Infant in the cold, wintry cave of Bethlehem that first Christmas night.
English-Orcadian Glossary
|
||||||||||||
