IT'LL "B-OK" ON THE NIGHT!
Cubby has a close and messy encounter with a colony of fulmars - all in the name of good TV of course.
"Did you see yourself on TV last night?" Yeah well as long as you didn't blink.
It never ceases to amaze me how many people watch these programmes and just how much a person off the street making an appearance on TV can have a hold over the media. Sure it's nice for my mum, dad and family but when I think of my own personal climbing achievements and how, even within climbing circles, these achievements have gone terribly unrecognized...but then who am I climbing for?
I forgot to mention in my last column that yours truly would be making a guest star appearance in a three part series for the BBC entitled Mountain Men - Whymper on the Matterhorn, The Sour Dough Route on McKinley and the ascent of K2. I didn't expect it sot be on so soon but I think the Election has mucked up the scheduling.
Anyway there is another in the making which is due to be released sometime this year. Climbing yes but with a different slant. This is a natural history programme, again for the BBC, entitled Weird Nature and showing wildlife and their natural defence systems.
Our venue for the week's filming was Orkney. "I need a volunteer," said Mark, the young director, with an air that hinted of an ambitious and creative mind. "I'm easy," said Digger, my colleague and fellow safety officer. "I'm not bothered one way or another," remarked Paul, the third member of our safety team.
"I don't mind either," said I diplomatically, obscuring an undercurrent of what could be described as vanity, for secretly I think we all enjoyed being the centre of attention. What is it about having a camera pointed at you?
"Bearing in mind," Mark continued, amused at our indecision, "that we will require some fall sequences towards camera and in addition we will hopefully be doing some close up work with nesting fulmars!" Diplomacy made way for democracy and so it was decided that my experience of falling off as a so-called "top climber" made me the clear winner!
We had a great week in Orkney and Hoy which offered a variety of venues with no shortage of nesting fulmars. We even got to climb which is a rairity in film making and we did the spectacular Castle Stack by the Cliff Phillips and Pete Minx Route. The same stack was used for a Rover advert some years ago but rather that setting up complex tyroleans we were dropped on the summit by helicopter and then abseiled into position.
On "action" we climbed out on razor sharp holds as the specialist camera operator primed up his remote controlled mini helicopter which buzzed around us at high speed. It was like something out of James Bond. It was hard not to laugh as I tackled the HVS groove and the high powered bee buzzed and hovered only metres away its Cyclops-like lens monitoring my progress.
Essentially the BBC wanted to portray the interaction between man and nature, as climbers scale these cliffs that are inhabited by ranks of fulmars nesting on the cliffs horizontal strata. The Castle Stack offered a spectacular build up to the inevitable confrontation.
With that complete we moved on to a stretch of coastline north of Stromness about a kilometere from another stack call the Castle of Yesnaby where there are some impressive sea caves. Two shots were required and unfortunately for me the best way to rig this up was from above. This meant that there was not as much rope as in a leader fall, a long way above the ground.
From a tiny ledge beneath the lip of a great wave battered cave, as deep as it was high, I had to hold several coils in my hand and jump off with the rope, which ultimately held me from above. It's simple but I've never liked falling and jumping off like that seemed to contradict everything that you would normally strive to avoid as a climber. It wasn't a big fall about 25 feet but it was spooky especially with these great Atlantic rollers crashing beneath me and the relatively short length of rope out tended to jar my body.
I was right about Mark's ambitious character for it required another six falls before we decided the first shot, falling away from camera, was the most spectacular! With that done we changed location to film a fall sequence towards camera. The problem being that we would have to rig up a system that would bring me within a couple of metres from the lens of the camera without hitting it - scary!
It was scary for Paul and Digger too for the system was devised in such a way that they were completely detached from the rope and on "action" I jumped off while they stood there with their arms folded.
We tested it with a weighted sack first and it worked well but our ambitious director was never happy and he wanted me closer and closer to the lens. My last fall must have been a metre from the camera - two metres from the ground!
The coastline north of Stromness is wonderful with lots of little bays, sea caves and an interesting variety of rock types that had recently been developed for rock climbing. At E1, The Castle of Yesnaby is a must - by the original Joe Brown route and judging by its name Yes Please, a Mick Fowler E5, must be very good as well.
With the fall sequences nicely wrapped up we prepared ourselves for sterner stuff. The best and most spectacular venue we could find was Rora Head which is just south of the Old Man of Hoy. Now I've done my fair share of sea cliff climbing and fulmar puke has never has never bothered me too much but the utterly disgusting concoction that a fulmar chick produces has got to be one of the most vile "natural" experiences I can think of.
So there we were 50 feet below the top of Rora Head, with nothing but 300 feet of whoompf beneath us. Digger took a hanging stance whil I put myself in a leader position. Above us Paul made safe positions for Mark to direct and the two cameramen, who hopefully were going to record my advances on the fulmar defense - a dark horizontal break in the layered sandstone, rather like a military pill box.
To get close in on the action one of the cameras was mounted on the end of a long job. The weather was unseasonably humid with virtually no updraft and the surrounding air was swarming with flying ants and tortuous midges.
On "action" I quickly climbed past the first rank of puking fulmars and pulled into the steep finishing groove, receiving only three or four direct hits to my trouser legs and rock shoes. It wasn't good enough and after another two or three "takes" Mark made it quite clear that he was looking for a more direct hit.
Most of the squeaky ack ack was delivered by the parent fulmars while the young aspiring fledglings watched and learned. Unknown to me however, as that there is a time when the young fulmars are lefts by the parent for a period of about one month to learn to defend itself. Before leaving the chick, the parents feed it as much regurgitated fish and eels as it can possibly take without bursting.
I peered over the ledge above to assess the enemy's position and all I could see was a line of uneasy beaks, beady eyes and feathers all lined up in the dark crevasse - waiting. "Action" shouted Mark which immediately upset the fulmars.
I pulled up into the line of fire and instinctively ducked and dived. I glanced over my shoulder to see Mark do likewise and occasionally receiving a splat on his chest and arm. I looked up to assess my new exit and saw Paul's expression, which was one of absolute disgust, while Mark looked on with intense fascination.
An adult fulmar can hold up to a quarter of a litre of the vile bilious concoction and already their gullets were beginning to squeak dry, having emptied their revolting ammunition but now the chicks came into play.
It started as a singular boke from deep within its stomach that soon traveled up its neck and gullet before projecting the most horrific yuck that was not unlike a mixture of raw eggs and cod liver oil, followed by hot, steamy and lumpy refried beans and shepherds pie!
I felt the first hit in the chest, its heat penetrating my thin fleece, then another to my thigh and crotch and finally the side of my face before I continued into the groove above. I boked.
"Well done," said Mark, who turned to play back the tape. Speechless, they hesitated then told me they had to forgotten to load a film in the camera - the things we do to make a living!
Cubby
15/6/2001
