Tim Nunn

Weather was bad. Oops. Flights were cancelled and ferries delayed. And we set off for Shetland. For a show the size of Hannah and Harvey the tour company consists of three stage management and the three actors. As this was our first time in Shetland, and was also likely to be a pressurised get-in, the company also included the director and the writer (me) who also double up as the producers. The set is in a long wheel-base Luton, a vehicle that is the very outer limits of what could be possibly be referred to as a ‘van’, not quite a lorry. Our ‘van’ is loaded to the gunnels with a set that is far too heavy for its size, lights, costume, props, tools, laptop, projector, programmes, badges, pencils, sweet wrappers and empty water bottles.
On this occasion, and thanks to the generosity and sponsorship of LoganAir, everyone was flying from Edinburgh or Glasgow with the exception of the Stage Manager and Technical Manager who were in the van. The show was on Monday evening and we were travelling on Sunday. This is cutting it a bit fine and means that the van arrives on Monday morning at around 7.30am after the crew have spent a night in their cabin on the 13.5 hour ferry journey. Or at least that is the plan.
In order for us to comfortably get the show into the theatre we need to be at the door and ready at 9am. On Sunday evening things started to get nerve wracking when the ferry website says the sailing for the van is ‘under review’ - a synonym for ‘going to be late’. We start having nervous phone calls from Shetland. Things are looking dodgy. When we get on our flight we don’t know whether the van will be getting onto a ferry or not. Thankfully we had enough notice to be able to grab all the costumes and essential props that are now stuffed into suitcases and rucksacks. A show will go on with or without the set - of some sort or another - providing the cast and us two can get there.
Two of the cast and the Deputy Stage Manager are leaving from Edinburgh Airport. As their plane is taxying on the runway something drops off and the front wheel locks to one side, like a shopping wheel trolley that refuses to go forwards no matter how hard or fast you push. They are stuck and waiting for one of those airport truck-tractors to drag them to somewhere a little less exposed to the elements and landing planes. We take off from Glasgow, no problems.
When we land in Inverness and turn on the mobile phones again we receive bleeps and messages that the van is still in Aberdeen and awaiting news of their departure. The party in Edinburgh have boarded another plane and will soon be on their way to Orkney where they will join the plane we are about to board in Inverness.
Just as we are about to board we hear that the weather is deteriorating but that the ferry is likely to leave. We are getting worried. The weather forecast is not good for a few days. The van is getting onto a ferry sailing the stormy seas and has to be back on the mainland not too long from now for the next show. The Stage Manager is given strict instructions about the cut-off time beyond which he is turn around and head for home. He then hears that the ferry will sail 30 minutes before then. Gulp. We board the plane to Shetland via Orkney. The Edinburgh flight has taken off and will the others will be waiting for us. Weather is getting worse.
We are 200 feet above the runway in Orkney when a large lightning bolt hits something electrically important on the island. The crew from Edinburgh laugh about ‘what can possibly go wrong now’ as they are plunged into a power cut in the departure lounge in the airport. The crew from Glasgow (us) are also plunging into the power cut but at several hundred miles per hour in a small plane. All the landing lights and every airport light disappear at a rather important moment in the descent, which rapidly becomes an ascent for the plane and all body parts apart from our stomachs which are left hovering somewhere over Orkney.
The Edinburgh crew are blissfully unaware of the drama now circling overhead, in fact they are a bit bored and one of them goes for a wander, opens a door in the departure lounge and sets off all the security alarms in the airport. Thankfully this leads to nothing more then a telling off from a security guard.
The Orkney generators kick in and we land. The Edinburgh lot jump onto the plane. We have time to turn on our mobiles - the van is still on the dock-side in Aberdeen.
Short flight to Shetland. On arrival we are informed that the van has just boarded the ferry. We are told they will have a ‘hell of a journey’. The Shetlanders have told the two crew on the van, now ferry, to have a good meal because there is nothing worse than seasickness on an empty stomach. We are all a bit scared and go for a Chinese meal.
As happens with these things the challenge of raising the show from a few props and a CD had brought everyone together in a war-time spirit. And when the van did actually arrive the next morning we all felt a little bit deflated, but actually glad to be able to put the show on properly, and that is exactly what we did. It was a great show that had a real energy to it with the cast clearly on a bit of an adrenalin rush. We got out the theatre and didn’t mind that the wind was blowing and the snow was falling.
The next morning the ferry was cancelled. Oops. Now everything is reversed with the threat of us not having the set for the next show on the tour back on the mainland. The costumes and props are quickly shoved back into suitcases and rucksacks. We also quickly work out that if we are going to have any chance of making a show from nothing for the next venue the stage and technical manager must get to the mainland as soon as possible. Flights are quickly procured for them and they are away. The cast are also onto planes and off. That leaves me and Katherine. The calculation has already been made for who is to stay behind and wait out the weather and the disrupted ferries, the person least needed for the task of rescuing the tour - me.
The only other person left at this stage was Katherine, so I gave her a lift to the airport. On my return I was stopped by a number of calls on my mobile phone. The first from Katherine - after leaving her a fire alarm went off at the airport and it was evacuated. By this point this small crisis seemed an inevitability rather than a surprise. Thankfully it was a false alarm and the fire engines returned to base as the passengers returned to the departure lounge. I continued on my journey with occasional stops to discuss on the mobile with the stage stage manager who is now back in Glasgow potential sources of scenery, lights, lighting control desk. Fraser hasn’t hesitated one second in the task of making something from nearly nothing.
During one of these calls I was stopped in the little rental car on the side of the road. I looked across and noticed that the field I was parked next to was actually teaming with birds and the occasional rabbit. It was a wet field and waders were picking their way amongst clumps of long marshy looking grass. Incongruously a large rabbit was slowly hopping about between the waders. Other birds were coming and going across the field that I began to get the impression of as a bit if banquet spot. Bizarrely by this time the weather had also done an about-flip. The snow had disappeared, the clouds had left the sky which was now a beautiful blue, the sun was out and it was glorious. Out of the other window of the car was the dark blue sea that was flat and almost calm. I suddenly realised where I was and just how astonishing Shetland is. I also realised that I had assumed I wouldn’t be on a ferry today but there was now a good chance of a sailing. And there was, and I made it to the ferry terminal in time to be on it, I was in Aberdeen at 7am the next morning (13.5 hours on the ferry) and outside the Regal in Bathgate at 10am ready for it be unloaded.
Next time we will actually see something of Shetland.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 31st, 2008 at 9:54 am and is filed under Reeling & Writhing, Theatre. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.