Author’s Note: I rediscovered this play, just a few days before the Community met to celebrate the life of Richard Coates.

This is a small play I wrote a few years ago, adapting a short pamphlet Richard had written about the weekly RUN to Iona. One of the pamphlets, home printed, is tucked away in Traigh Bhan’s Library and it is such an excellent aspect of a largely unknown, unfeted aspect of Community life. It was both a herculean and and joyous weekly odyssey.

The play includes some artistic license. It remains unperformed and its intention is to blow a kiss to all the hardy souls who set out on The Run.

In a One Earth Magazine article from 1994 Richard Coates describes the Erraid/Iona Run.

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THE RUN or THE ERAID/IONA RUN

A PLAY

Michael Hawkins

Written in 2022, based on the Erraid/Iona Run pamphlet by Richard Coates, 1994. A last remaining copy of which is to be found in Traigh Bhan’s bookcase …

A play based on the weekly return drive from Findhorn to the Findhorn Foundation’s retreat house on the Isle of Iona, a distance of 175 miles by road, mountain trail, single track road and three ferries. A journey that has been undertaken since the 1970s.

Dedication

Dedicated to The Richards; the late Richard Coates, RIP, and the late Richard Adams, RIP, driving forces for many years on The Run, and all the volunteer drivers, male and female who have headed out west, since the 1960s, and to this day. God, bless ‘em all.

And not least to the Buses: Bluebell, Brother Henry, The General, Heather, Easby, Rose, Various Henry’s, Hamish & Frances. And ‘er  2019s People-Carrier.

In Memoriam: Richard Coates and Richard Adams.

ACT ONE

Inverness Hospital, 2017

Richard Coates, a long- time Findhorn foundation member and stalwart driver, mechanic, dogsbody of The Run, is visiting an ailing Richard Adams, a fellow driver and Run ‘romantic’ who has held the driving and logistics together through the 1990s and noughties.

RC: How you doing driver? I’ve brought you some chocolate brownies from the Kitchen.

RA: Thanks Richard. I-I’m not so good…in and out of consciousness. Dreamt I was on The Run last night, barrelling down Loch Ness for the Coran ferry (and Nessie appeared out of the gloom, saying, Be Still but Race!

RC: Smiles, chuckles… Did I ever tell you about my first Run?

RA: Probably but… tell me again… I-I- I’ll try to stay awake…

ACT TWO

Scene I

Springtime 1970s, Cluny Hill College, Forres. 5am Driver Richard is doing final checks on Bluebell the bus, and willing the group heading out to Iona to hurry up.

American Voices: WOA-HEY… Hey Richard, early start for it. How’s the old shooting brake. Care for some Trail Mix?

RC: Whispering … Morning Stan. Don’t know why you’re so ruddy cheerful. Where’s the rest of ‘em? Help me load the straw bales on – they’re for the Erraid lot – and will double as extra seats if needed.

STAN: Ok Pal. Giles & Co. are almost ready and the girls are just finishing their morning yoga.

RC: Don’t they know we’ve a ferry to catch. Let’s get ‘em on board. Baggage ladies … food for Traigh Bhan … cheese, onions over there … Carrots on top of the strawbales.

All aboard…Everyone here?

Ok..I’ll read a blessing from Eileen (Caddy) first and Bluebell (name of the white Mercedes van) will power us away.

Glances in mirrors as he rounds the bend, leading away from Cluny College. 

A young woman is racing towards them, frantically waving … 

Bluebell screeches/judders to a halt

PIA: Smiles sweetly. Panting  H-Hey Richard, I got inner guidance, just now, to come out with you guys … can you squeeze a little one on?

RC: Rolls eyes. Stan, clear off the carrots, Pia can sit on the straw bale….

ACT TWO

Scene II

RA: Opens his eyes … grimacing, smiles … in those days, yes people just turned up … wouldn’t happen now … and we don’t carry strawbales for Erraid anymore do we?

RC: No. I used to enjoy driving Bluebell. Ran on petrol, vast quantities of it, and was very fast. In those days I had 15 inside & all the luggage was on an enormous roof rack, covered by a waterproof – on a good day – tarpaulin.

RA: Is it true you lost a backpack or two?

RC: Yea, I’d glance in the Mirror and see something cartwheeling into the distance. A quick – ferry schedule in mind – recovery operation, and then full steam ahead, well, foot to the floor.

As RA eats a Brownie … How’s the food here? Vegetarian?

RA: Can’t tell; really.

RC: That reminds me…so much for Findhorn being a vegetarian community …

ACT TWO

Scene III

The Little Chef at Spean Bridge

RC: Ok folks. Make it a quick tea and pee, the Coran waits for no man or you….Pia. 15 MINUTES MAX.

30 MINUTES LATER

RC: barging into the Little Chef …  S T O P munching your bacon rolls, Danish pastries and that full cooked English breakfast, Hannah. I thought we were a vegetarian community … and you’re all never late for sanctuary, but I can see your stomachs don’t care a fig for the Caledonian-Macbrayne ferry timetable.

PIA: Offers Richard a greasy fried egg, topped with bacon.

RC: Ta, exits … muttering ferry times, but smiling happily.

Back at the hospital

RA: Yes. I heard certain drivers had their favourite tea and pee breaks, depending on how desperate passengers were: Fort William Railway Station; Craignure Inn for lunch; the Lochaline Hotel for coffee; the Woollen Mill café at Fort William; the fish ‘n’ chips shops in Kingussie, Aviemore, Newtonmore and many more.

RC: True, in those happy days I used to say, ‘What more could I want’? A full tank, the most glorious scenery to drive through, and into, all day and oh, (pause) a picnic.

RA: Picnic!?

RC: We used to take a picnic with us. The driver would pack a box with a couple of loaves, butter, a big chunk of cheese, loads of fruit, bags of nuts, dried fruit, tubs of peanut butter – we had more Americans then – 3 flasks of tea, coffee & herbals.

RA: Bet they loved that.

RC: Yes, but you had to fight the greedy buggers off the box so that, at least, a few crumbs were left for those on the return trip.

ACT TWO

Scene IV

RC: The weather, like the guests, was ever changeable. You can experience the lot in one trip; snow, fog, rain, sun, ice, gusty gusto winds. The east and west parts can be completely different … you can take a mildly windy road down Loch Ness, and suddenly hit blizzard conditions or black ice, and then come out of it, just as fast.

RA: Nodding. Yes, as the seasons change so does the light.

RC: That’s right … some days in December most of The Run is in the dark. It’s not dawn until Fort William (almost 100 miles into The Run) and then by 4pm it’s dark when you get back there, under the shadow of Ben Nevis.

Can you imagine watching the dawn come up behind you as you gently motor, spreading its glorious colours upon the sky and landscape into which you are driving? It’s wonderful and even other worldly. Then on the way home, seeing a russet sunset in your mirrors. We didn’t need payment …

RA: Sighs wearily …

RC: I’ll let you sleep now driver.

RA: Wait … no, before we make it all sound like a Disney road trip, with Bambi appearing out of the gloaming, tell me about the drunk in the Jaguar.

ACT THREE

Scene I

Mid-Summer day 1970s – Cars, Vans, motor Bikes queuing at Fishnish for the 6 car Lochaline ferry.

RC: Rolling window down … We’ve been here almost four hours now and it is blistering hot. Any water left Stan?

STAN: I’ll pop down the road see if I can find find a shop. Our passengers are wilting but bearing up …

Stan returns with water … hands it out.

RC: Make sure everyone gets a sip … including me.

RC: Look out! Look out! Woahh. Did you see that Jag, he’s jumped the queue … hold on mate, we’ve all been waiting …

Semi Drunk Driver In Jaguar: slurring … Slut up shhunshine…the car in front was slow so I’ve stepped up, hic. Be grateful I didn’t sclatch your old tub more than it is already. Shouting at other cars. … Make way, keep moving…I’m shumming through.

STAN: He’s thrashing his gears, barging his way through … remember Richard cay stalm, oops I mean stay calm. I suppose we’ve only lost a place or two.

R i c h a r d……you’ve gone quiet.

RC: Muttering darkly … Obnoxious Londoner in his fancy Jag …

STAN: What are you doing?

RC: Some quick calculations … that queue jumping jag will be one of the first on the boat, rather than the last … and we have to reverse off the boat, right …

STAN: interjecting … so we would be off before him, but I don’t see …

RC: Smacking his lips, eyes glinting. Ah Stan, you’re such a peacemaker … look where we’re going, once on land, points … a tight single track road where no one can pass …

STAN: Ah, but you’re not …

RC: Here we go, l a n d in g … we’re backing off … H O L D ON everyone. I’m gonna turn round faster than I ever have.

Bluebell screeches, shudders, dirt flies off ground; she turns.

RC: Breathlessly. Made it! Here we go .. . first down the single-track.

STAN: ’Er Richard we have an angry purple-faced gentleman in a Jag, sitting on our back bumper flashing his lights … You could let him by …

RC: I could … perhaps in a few miles or so … pass the water round Stan.

Inverness Hospital

RA: There is a justice after all!

RC: I must confess I enjoyed it, though I glanced nervously at a picture of Eileen Caddy we had, fixed to the dashboard. I saluted, saying, ‘righting a wrong’ maam.

I’ll swear she smiled!

ACT THREE

Scene II

RA: Drowsily … It was a romantic, wild, sometimes epic undertaking wasn’t it … dangerously so at times. We busted and totalled some buses didn’t we. No more than a few cuts and bruises to drivers, passengers though.

RC: Yes, snaking through mountain trails …

RA: Dodging, mud slides …

RC: slipping round icy blind corners …

RA: Avoiding lambs …

RC: And families of deer … you soon master the art of ‘seat of your pants’ driving and … the hitherto unknown Erraid/Iona Run practice; fast-response prayers.

RA: It sounds more like extreme spirituality.

RC: Funny you should say that. …

ACT THREE

Scene III

Late Autumn 1980s – Lochaline

Richard and rookie co-driver, Judith, in 22 seater Bus. Strong winds are buffeting the bus, white spray is whipping up on to shore and bus. Shouts of ferry crew are heard.

RC: These are the worst conditions I can remember Judith … straining to see … the currents are so strong the ferry engines may not hold the boat onto the jetty for long enough.

RC: Judith? You look pale.

JUDITH: N-no, I’m alright.

Crew member to Richard: Ach, the conditions are so bad we’ll get ye to reverse on and go across to Fishnish so we come in above the landing stage. Is she alright? … dinnae fash yerself lassie. Ye’ll have to nip off quickly mind.

JUDITH: H-how’s this going to work Richard

RC:  Nonchalantly … Oh they’ll get us over … as the current pushes us past the sloping concrete, they’ll drop the front ramp, 22 vehicles nip off, quickly, as the man said! And then they’ll circle round to let the next ones off…

I can’t believe I’ve just said that.

Brace yourself Judith, this is more fun than Saturday homecare.

Seagulls screeching, wind howling.

RC: Here we go … our turn to get off

JUDITH: Gasps … Richard…

RC: I know … we’re in a 22 seater … our front wheels are on land …

JUDITH: and our back end is on the boat …

RC: Yes, AND we’re being pushed sideways by a gale … This is one heck of a feeling, isn’t it. Remember Judith, we drew the Angel of Surrender before leaving …

Inverness Hospital

RA: I need some more morphine … hearing that.

RC: Yes, that was extreme but a spiritual practice I adopted over the years was to visualise or imagine in front of the bus a sort of invisible field of energy, the height and width of the vehicle, moving along in front of me, say some 30-50 metres ahead to clear the way; to warn animals, birds, insects and people of our approach. Every so often I mentally reinforced it.

RA: Did it work?

RC: I think so. It seemed to work for me.

Can’t go on a Findhorn Run without some sort of spiritual practice.

RA: That was some baptism for Judith.

RC: Yes, she clutched her Buddhist prayer beads tightly.

ACT FOUR

Scene I

Late afternoon, 1990s.

Passenger DOREEN: Fussy English lady; cut-glass voice Dri-vah … Rich-ard … can you slow down … I’m feeling a little queasy … there’s a hairpin ahead … what is the tearing rush … I thought you Findhorn types say, ‘we have all the time there is’.

RC: We do and … some folk have trains to catch in Inverness.

DOREEN: But-but-you’re going even faster. And Bluebell (the bus) is shaking. I-I’m shaking.

A passenger whispers something to Richard.

RC: OK, yesss, this is serious! Forget the train, … the student group singing at the back have to be back for KP (Kitchen Patrol) and we’re laaaattee.

Bluebell surges forward

Student Group Singing: THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE I’M GONNA LET IT SHINE’…………

RA: Chuckling…coughing…

ACT FOUR

Scene II

RC: Jetty’s not far now. Hold tight everyone … Bluebell revvs…

Passenger: Oh, no, the ferry’s on its way out.

DOREEN: All that speeding and now we’ll have to wait an hour for another ferry. So much for KP. You don’t look concerned. Dri-vah! Dri-vah! DRI-VAH!

RC: Grinning broadly .. Trust in God, Doreen, trust in God. Don’t they teach you that at Oxbridge? Pointing … See, the Captain has spotted us and is turning round, coming back for us.

Quietly to self: Wait till I tell the boys in Finance it was worth coughing up a few quid at Christmas so I could give the good Cap’n and crew a bottle of Glenlivet!

RA: That yuletide/Hogmanay gift certainly worked didn’t it.

RC: Yes, the ferry guys were great and often came back for us. Cheers!

ACT FIVE

Scene I

Winter

RA: Those of us on The Run gave up our Saturday, but we lived a bit Dri-vah, didn’t we … had some adventures … met all types … saw, and drove through, all that nature (and some guests) could throw at us.

I think I’ll sleep now.

RC: Didn’t mean to wear you out driver … Yeah, we had some fun, got into some scrapes, saw the glory of nature … got many out to Erraid and Iona. And back. Mostly. Yep, we drivers did extreme spirituality on The Run.

Perhaps I’ll write about it one day or even make a Play for the Hall so those who never went far from Cluny’s lounge or The Park can see what they, ahem, missed. Nah … they’ll never believe it … Sleep peacefully, Richard.

Walks down Corridor, whistling.

-ENDS-