Woggles and all that
Yesterday, for some unknown reason I started thinking about the Scouts.
I used to be a member of the Scouts – The Wolfhound Patrol of the 45th.
I see they are still around but they now call it the Wolf Patrol. Lazy buggers.
What I find very very strange is that I don’t remember much about that little period of my life. In fact I can hardly remember anything. Very strange.
I remember we used to meet in an old mill, but I don’t remember what the inside of the place looked like. I know we used to go on camping trips to Larch Hill in the Dublin Mountains, but the only thing I remember about those trips is the beautiful smell of wood smoke from the camp fires.
I know we once went to the Isle of Man but I remember very little about that too. Yet strangely, I remember the exact address of the place we camped in – Barony Farm, Maughold, Isle of Man. Why I should remember that, I don’t know as I don’t think I wrote to myself when I was there.
I do remember one day we took the train into Douglas. I spent all my money on various fripperies and hadn’t enough left for the return train fare. Being a resourceful chap, I decided to walk back to the camp. It was only twenty miles and I hadn’t a clue as to directions but they were minor details. I had only been walking a short while when I was offered a lift by a family in a van full of old tyres. They brought me right to the camp which was nice. The rest of the troupe didn’t turn up for hours. Apparently they had been scouring Douglas looking for me. Heh!
I know it’s a bit of a cliché, but I do remember all the knots – the Sheepshank, Bowline, Reef and all that shit. They have come in very handy in life. I also remember learning how to build and light [with one match] a fire in the middle of a river. I haven’t had much call for that though. I’m fairly sure it was the Scouts who taught me to fillet and cook a tourist over an open fire. But that may have been a fish. I’m not sure.
So here’s to the scouts I don’t remember.
Dib dib.
You must be mistaken about being in the 45th. Their web site says they have only been around for 80 odd years.
quite good at brownies but didn’t make it to guides…boys looked more interesting at the time.
Please post the recipe for tourists. We have an excess here in Florida
Didn’t do Brownies – joined the Guides. Blue Tit Patrol (no sniggering please!), then Chaffinch (thank heavens) Patrol Leader in the days when you could use your tie as an emergency sling. Didn’t get a woggle until I joined the Air Rangers, but it was worth waiting for – it had a little silver aeroplane on it. Bet not many of you have had to climb into a Chipmunk wearing a sit-on parachute while wearing fashionably tight trousers! Those were the days when you had to sit in the bath to shrink jeans until they were skin-tight, it worked but you had indigo legs for days.
TT – They say 80 years of unbroken history. In my time, I think I broke their history. They haven’t forgiven me yet…
Cat – Good God! At that age I didn’t even know what girls where. I had a very innocent upbringing. It shows even to this day.
Oldspook – Too many tourists? Just ship them over here. We know what to do with them. Or if you really want to try the recipe, just find one on the Interweb for baked hedgehog. The techniques are the same, but allow extra time as tourists are generally bigger than hedgehogs. Well, they are over here anyway.
Meltemian – Bloody hell!! Air Rangers???? What I would have given for that! Did you graduate from Chipmunks to F16s?
I know that they taught you to be prepared since you seem to be in order to respond to the vagaries that cross your desk and mind!!!!
thats vagaries, just wanted to see if you actually read these things from someone in the tourist trap called Florida
Of course I read ’em. I don’t always respond but at least I read ’em.
Happy days.
I remember having to chase our newly washed pots and pans down a muddy hill near Castlewellan, where they had been kicked by the cub leader for being BOGGING (he bellowed) – i.e. not quite clean enough.
Canoes sinking halfway across a lake.
And songs around the campfire about how King Billy saved us from the Pope and wooden shoes, etc. Seemed a bit prejudiced and out of place at the time. (I was from a different background to most of them.) But if I’d known then what I know now about papal goings on and funny money, well…
But happy days most of the time all the same.
Nothing changes – two of mine did a camp this weekend with caheragh 13th and when i asked how it went, they couldnt remember. Hmmmm, something in the hot chocolate perhaps! x
BWT – The whole thing seems a bit of a waste, if you ask me. Were they the happiest day’s of my life? Maybe. Maybe not. I just don’t remember a thing.
Motherdear – And I don’t even remember what we drank. Maybe it was laced with something……… 🙁
Oldspook: Let me know when your’e hosting the tourist roast.. I’m in Florida too and can bring some for the cooking.