Do you remember your schooldays at PHS?

What tales do you recall about Long Will and Kirsty Mhor? What about Goofy and Hodson? Do you remember Gardening and Maths with Dolan either at Portree or in the other Junior Secondaries?

John Campbell was the janny for many years. He used to say, “It’s cheely today.” Ginger and Sandy Ruadh too; in the days when the boilers ran on coal. What about The Bopper and John Steel? Stories about Calum and Moira will be Classics!! Life in the Hostels.. 

Tell us about the characters you knew at Portree High School and some of the tales and escapades. What about the background stories which gave rise to nicknames? Let’s not allow these pieces of PHS history to be forgotten! Get writing so that we can laugh with you. Send your stories to “Friends of Portree High School” c/o the school Reception. We’ll publish them on the website. Perhaps there will be enough for a book?

Mr Marshall's Hymn Sheets

by Anon

How about the time the illustrious J. Rodger esq. came across a huge box of Xmas carol hymn sheets cluttering up his cupboard. Summoning Finlay MacRae the Janitor he instructed him, in no uncertain terms that this box of Marshall’s rubbish should be returned to him without fail. Under no circumstances were things like this to clutter up his cupboard.

Taking this instruction literally, Finlay enlisted the assistance of one K C MacKinnon and they returned these sheets to John Marshall (Head of Music).

The literal version of the instructions meant they posted a dozen at a time through his home letterbox. Such was the pile that Marshall had some difficulty in opening his front door..!

And then came the hard boiled eggs….but that’s another tale!

 By Anon. (Sent to “The Friends”)

Small Incident at Black Rock

by Robin McConnachie

As a young naturalist I had always wanted to add a sea urchin to my collection. So a fine Saturday in early summer found me and my equipment (old gloves and a large pail) on the Black Rock at the entrance to Portree Bay. Finding the best specimen to keep alive took a while as I kept being diverted by the antics of the different types of crab scurrying in the rock pools but I was well provisioned with a fat poke of yellow lemonade powder (remember the sweet/sour taste on the tongue?) and thrupence worth of broken biscuits from Liptons. Maybe I had dozed off in the warm sunshine teleporting myself into the clouds but on attempting to return by the stony causeway linking the rock to the shore I soon saw that the tide was coming in fast. The water was already over my wellingtons and the swirling undertow was strong. So I took the decision that may have saved my life (like many Sgianachs I could not swim and still cannot) and retreated to the safety of my island rock.

It was after the third boat had cheerfully waved to me as I sat glumly facing Camus Ban on the rocky point nearest to the sea that I realised that I might be there for some time. I was not seriously worried as I knew the rock was never submerged but I was not looking forward to the row that awaited me, with consequent restraints on my freedom of movement, if I was late home for my tea. It seemed like hours before a bigger fishing boat responded to my increasing yells and took me off in its dingy, shortly afterwards depositing me at the harbour. As I prepared to run home, the skipper winked and said in a broad Glasgow accent, “Ye’ll no’ be wintin’ me to say anythin’ aboot oor wee diversion!” If my parents ever knew, they certainly never mentioned it, but from that moment my exploring and collecting was indulged, even encouraged.

Fifty years plus on, with the sharpest memory of that day, I cherish the hope that today’s children can still have such freedoms on Skye: it is one reason why “The Friends” do what they can to support Portree High.

Robin McConnachie. 10 Feb 2005