Three-part Harmony

[rcvesselstyn]

First Part


Dad sailed with some unique people.

They were over at Emerald for a weekend with yacht club friends. On board, besides the crew, the proud Scot owner had hired a complete Scottish Piper band for the trip. After anchoring and as evening approached the owner and crew went to socialize with their friends from the yacht club. Late that night when they returned they found bottles and pipers strewn about the deck. The musicians had broken into the owner's liquor locker.

Early the next morning the owner and crew, minus Dad, were taking the launch down to the Isthmus to meet their friends. The owner had left Dad with the instructions to get the pipers on the road, playing, and to the Isthmus by the end of lunch. After much discussion with the leader of the pipers it was obvious that the drummer was too blasted to participate. Dad would have to take the place of the drummer. He got all the pipers and their gear to the beach and left the drummer sleeping in the fo'c'sle. They geared up in full regalia, hats to spats. The drummer was a large man and his kilt needed to be cinched up around Dad's waist. Dad had never played the drum but the leader of the pipers told him just keep beat with their marching steps, hitting the drum on one side and then the other. This was not some little drum. It had a full harness and stuck out in front of Dad vertically. They hiked up to the road and started marching and playing. The bagpipes and drum echoing across the waters of the harbor.

It's 1936 and the Isthmus is still recovering from the filming of Mutiny On The Bounty. There are more palm trees now and a building at the beach. This was Clark Gable's place, Christian's Hut. It was now a restaurant and bar.

By sea it is a fairly direct shot from Emerald to the Isthmus but by land it's brutal. The road follows the contours of the Island, weaving in and out of the canyons for 6 and 1/2 miles. You are doing pretty good if you can make it in under two and a half hours. The morning sun bakes the points of land and the west side of the canyons. The higher the sun rises the less shade there is on the east side of the canyons. The pipers in their wool outfits carried on playing and marching even though they were cooking in the hot sun.

Meanwhile at the Isthmus the owner and crew we're making good effect of the distant sound of approaching bagpipes. The sound got louder as the pipers passed each point of land.

The pipers rounded the final point and headed towards the Isthmus. The little bit of breeze that blows through the Isthmus seemed to refresh them and blew a red cloud of dust behind their marching steps. The pace of the group picked up and Dad struggled to keep up with the drum beats. Dad's kilt had started to loosen up so he was using his elbows to keep the kilt in place. The pace now picked up from a fast walk to a trot. The group went around the final bend that leads to the trail down to the beach and the pace increased even more. As the pipers went down off the road onto the trail they broke into a full run. Dad was beating the drum at a furious pace, bagpipes wailing, tassels and kilts and bagpipes flying through the wind and a giant cloud of red dust. Without pausing they ran down the trail across the beach and into the bar at full speed.

Dad's kilt ended up only half on and the pipers ran up a huge bar tab. Even so, the owner had been pleased with the end result. He ended up retaining the pipers for various events for many years.