Diary of a Shopkeeper, 15th August

‘I was surprised not to see it all over the news,’ said Mrs Stentorian.

‘What’s that?’ I said, as I looked up from my emails.

‘A major maritime disaster on Saturday night,’ she said, ‘Over in the Stromness area.  The sky was full of flares.’

I opened a new tab on the computer and looked at the local news. The top story was about a sheep in Sandwick that, inspired by the Olympics, had taken up skateboarding.

‘They were certainly very eye-catching,’ she said, ‘Big explosions, cascades of lights, multi-coloured sunbursts – the coastguards must’ve seen them from miles away.’

‘There’s nothing here,’ I said, ‘But…hold on, when did you say this was?’

‘Saturday night, about eleven.  A large-scale emergency I think’

I turned around.  ‘Unless…’ I said, ‘Maybe…just possibly…you were seeing the Shopping Week fireworks?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘It’s just, there’s no news report, and you’d think if there had been a disaster…’

‘I know flares when I see them, young man.  Why, Bertie and I had to let several off when our yacht was attacked by that narwhal.’

‘What?  When was this?’

‘Oh, we were young and carefree, Bertie and I.  We celebrated our first wedding anniversary by sailing to every town on the south coast beginning with B.  B for Bertie, you see.  We started at Broadstairs, went on to Bexhill, passed Birling Gap on our way to Brighton, had a wonderful time in Bognor Regis…’

‘I get the idea,’ I said.

‘We couldn’t miss Budleigh Salterton, of course…’

‘Of course.’

‘And we ended up in Botallack.  Ooh!’  She laughed.  ‘I know what you’re thinking!’

‘I doubt it,’ I said.

‘You’re thinking, ‘Surely Botallack is on the west coast of Cornwall, not the south?’  Strictly speaking you’re right, but as you’ll be aware, the tin mines of Botallack are of the finest quality. In fact my wedding ring is made of Botallack tin.  Unconventional I know, but given that Bertie’s family owned several tin mines it was particularly romantic, we thought.’

‘So where did the narwhal come into the story?  They’re surely not that common around Cornwall?’

‘Of course not!  That incident was during our second anniversary trip, when we were circumnavigating Iceland, stopping at every port beginning with H.  H for Henrietta, you see.  Everything started well at Hafnarfjordur, and we spent the night at Hellisandur.  But the next day, heading for Helgafell, we ran into a pod of narwhals, and the rest is history.’

‘I may regret asking, but what happened?’

‘It was a wonderful sight, watching these magnificent animals, half fish, half unicorn, leaping out of the ocean, trying to spear puffins on their ten-foot tusks.’

I couldn’t help but laugh.  ‘Puffins?  I’m pretty sure they eat cod, not birds!’

She gave me a withering look.  Even through her mask I could tell her lips were pursed in disapproval. 

‘I know perfectly well what they eat,’ she said.  ‘They were spearing the birds for fun not for food.  Just as you or I would shoot a great skua for pleasure, not because we wanted to roast it with a pork and prune stuffing.’

My jaw must have dropped, because she swiftly left the subject of illegal seabird slaughter and went back to her ill-fated boat trip.

‘I was wearing a blouson with a rather fetching Enchanted Owl image on it,’ she said, circling her hands in front of her ample chest as she remembered the scene.  ‘Those Inuits are so in tune with nature, don’t you think?  Maybe because they’re closer to it in evolutionary terms.  Like Orcadians.’

‘Argh…’

‘Anyway, the owl must have been extremely lifelike, because one particular brute of a narwhal saw me leaning over the gunwale, and launched itself directly at my chest.’

‘The mind boggles,’ I said.

‘Luckily, Bertie – my hero! – saw the killer tusk approaching my bosom and spun the wheel to port.  The yacht pitched sideways and BANG the narwhal plunged into the hull, its tusk piercing the wood just above the waterline and impaling the whale there, its tail flapping helplessly behind it.’

‘That is just incredible,’ I said.  ‘Unbelievable.  In fact, I don’t believe it!’

‘The customer is always right,’ she said, and sniffed.  ‘Anyway, after a time the whale wriggled so violently that it dislodged its tusk. Good for it, but bad for us, as we started taking on water.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Indeed, because it led to the first argument of our marriage.  I felt we should proceed immediately to the nearest port, which happened to be Stykkishólmur.  But Bertie, ever the gentleman, felt we should stick to our original plan to honour H for Henrietta by going on to Helgafell.’

‘So what happened?  Where did you go?’

She looked down sadly.  ‘As we were arguing the yacht started to sink and we had to abandon ship.  Hence the flares.  Luckily, we were rescued by a passing trawler and taken to Stykkishólmur, despite Bertie’s protestations.  But he cheered up when he found there was a rather splendid golf course there.  Holes in one are common, it seems, because the air is thinner that far north, so the balls fly further.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ I said.

‘Oh yes.  We were stuck there for ten days till we could find return travel to Reykjavik.  By the end of a week Bertie assured me ha had managed a round of nine.’

‘And what did you do with your time while he was in the clubhouse?’

‘It was lovely!  I signed up for a course in Icelandic cookery.  You know, making the most of whatever ingredients can be foraged in a harsh and hostile environment.  It came in very useful when I moved to Rendall.’

‘So what recipes did you come back with?’

‘The best way to cook a cormorant,’ she said.

I must have gasped.

‘We must all try to eat local,’ she said.  ‘What could me more local than a cormorant or shag foraged with a shotgun at Costa Head?’

‘I really don’t think that’s what foraging means!’

‘The recipe could not be simpler,’ she said.  ‘Put the cormorant in a pot of seawater, with a large beach stone.  Bring to the boil and simmer.  Simmer for a long time, until the stone is soft.  Throw away the bird.  Eat the stone.’

This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 18th August. Other diaries continue to appear weekly. I am posting them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations., and occasional small corrections or additions.