“This man inspired me to become an engineer…”
My grandad, Forbes Cruikshank was born on The Falkland Islands on 5th June 1904 in a town called Walker Creek. In 1908 he moved with his family to mainland Argentina where he grew up on a ranch owned by his father that had sheep, horses, and cattle. His father taught him the ways of the gaucho – how to ride, herd cattle, use the bolas & lasso and most importantly how to survive. He also taught himself how to fix and repair all sorts of vehicles and machinery, even crafting workable spare machine parts from animal bones, including gears for his pickup trucks as spares were in short supply at the time. Always making sure he made two of everything!
On one particular day while out riding, his horse reared away from a snake and threw my grandad from the saddle onto the ground, severely injuring his back. The horse returned to the ranch minus the rider, so my grandad’s brother and father quickly saddled up and rode out to look for him. When they found him, his brother rode for miles to the nearest town to get a doctor, whilst his father stayed by his side. When his brother returned with the doctor, on examination the doctor thought my grandad had broken his back. They decided to ship him back to Scotland to get the proper medical attention he required. He had an operation in Dundee that not only saved his back but his life as well. His recovery was aided by a nurse named Christina who eventually became his wife. After the wedding, they made the voyage back to Argentina and returned to the family ranch.
On the first night on the ranch, my grandmother woke my grandad in the early morning after hearing a strange noise outside. Unbeknownst to her, my grandad kept a six-shooter under his pillow, which he immediately drew being woke so suddenly and nearly shot his new bride! That was the last night he slept with the gun underneath the pillow, it swiftly being placed and locked in a bedside cabinet!
When my grandmother became pregnant, they decided to return to Scotland. The main reason was that if they had a son, he would be conscripted into the Argentinian army when he reached 16. They made the voyage back to Dundee where my mother was born in the same hospital where my grandparents met. Just after her birth, my Grandad was informed that his father had passed away and his brother had sold the ranch without his knowledge or consent, so he had no reason to return to Argentina. My grandparents and my mother decided to remain in Scotland where they made a happy life in the village of Taynuilt.
It was here I can recall the first memories of my grandad when I was roughly two years old and my older brother (also Forbes) was five. Every summer holiday Mum, Dad, Forbes, and I would go up to Taynuilt to visit him. There were 3 bungalow cottages, that ran along the train station.
The biggest one at one end was for the station master, my grandad had the middle cottage and the other one at the other end belonged to a man named John McDonald.
Both John McDonald and my grandad were ‘gangers’ who worked on the railway, clearing the tracks, and maintaining them. He and his team covered 10 miles north and south of Taynuilt station cutting back the trees and grass by hand using scythes.
During these many visits, my brother and I would get into all sorts of adventures/mischief, but it was also where my grandad first inspired me to become an engineer! He had a workshop out the back of his cottage which had more tools in it than I had ever seen in my life, some of them he had made himself! I could ask him to make me pretty much anything and he would sit down and get to work, I still remember him whittling a wooden boat for me to play with in the bath, which my parents loved as it made me enjoy bath night! Then later he upgraded my boat by adding a crane, which he constructed just from bending thick wire. His engineering knowledge was staggering, I could remember being in awe of him. Whenever there was a problem or something had to be fixed around the house, he would go to his shed, think about the problem, and then just fix the bloody thing, no plans, no instructions, nothing, just pure ingenuity! This is the reason that, to this day, I rarely look at instruction manuals, much to the annoyance of my lovely wife!
I also remember that my grandad had a very low opinion of his ‘fellow man’. After his brother sold the ranch without his knowledge, he had a very hard time trusting men and he became increasingly wary of them. This mistrust did not seem to affect his view of women, however, who he held in the highest regard, especially his wife, Christina. This esteem even included prostitutes (which he never used, but being a ganger, full of workies, they did come up in conversation from time to time) whom he referred to as ‘obliging ladies!’ Once I was old enough to know what they were talking about, that description always made me chuckle!
The one memory of my grandad and my time in Taynuilt that is my absolute favourite is – the water tower incident. Mainly due to being it was so funny I nearly wet myself but also because it is the reason why I was encouraged by family and colleagues to start writing all these stories down. It was one of the first stories I told my two children when they were very young and needed to be entertained any time, we took them to a restaurant. They called them naughty stories!
The water tower incident occurred during one of the summer visits. This was still in the age of steam and the trains between Glasgow and the terminating lines was Oban. At the time most of the railway lines were single track except at the stations when they doubled so you could get two trains at the station at the same time, but you couldn’t have two trains on the line at the same time. As the trains came through, if it didn’t stop, it was given what’s called ‘a tablet’ – the train driver was given a big loop with a brass thing in the middle and that would give them clearance to the next station.
Because they were steam trains, all the stations had water towers and each train had a big steam-driven engine where the stoker and the driver would be, behind them would be a tender, and inside that was coal and water. So, the train would come in and stop at the water tower, which is like a huge, toilet tank. Connected to that is a flexible leather pipe, lined with brass studs, which you drag across, open up the bag of the tender, pop the pipe in, pull a chain like a toilet and in goes the water. When it wasn’t in use, this leather pipe would hang down and the gangers would fold it over and strap it against the water tower, so it wouldn’t drip, with a drain underneath in case it did.
One Sunday, my brother and I went down to the station to play, no trains were running and my grandfather was home. As we both stood next to the water tower, craning our necks and looking up at it, I said to my brother, Forbes “I wonder what would happen if we pulled the chain?”
“Why don’t we find out.” Forbes grinned.
I smiled back at him, and then without further hesitation, I pulled the chain. The leather pipe started quickly filling with water. Suddenly water started to leak out the brass studs that held the pipe together, and because it was still attached to the wall by the chain, the water wasn’t coming out, it just kept filling the pipe, causing it to swell like an enormous leather balloon! At this point, Forbes and I leg it, just in time as my grandfather came running down the platform, in his slippers, carrying a big crowbar.
“What the HELL is going on here!?” he roared.
“I’ve no idea, Grandpa!” I said, putting on my best innocent face “What is going on here, why is the pipe getting bigger!?” Knowing full well why. By now this pipe was really big, swollen to an alarming proportion. Grandad stepped into action, jamming his crowbar under the chain, braced himself and gave it an almighty pull! WHOOSH – it snapped off the chain and about 100 gallons of water poured out of this pipe, it was like a tsunami! My poor grandad and brother got soaked, whilst I remained bone dry (I may have taken a few quiet steps back, but my memory is a little hazy!) My soggy Grandad eventually saw the funny side and my brother and I miraculously escaped punishment as Forbes never grassed me up. He was good like that, and to be fair he was my guilty accomplice in the whole escapade! Looking back on it I think this was my young engineer mind at work, I just wanted to know how the water tower worked. And now I do, and so do you!
So, my grandad is essentially my origin story. He didn’t know it at the time, but whenever he fixed something, built something, allowed me in his workshop and around his tools, or just imparted wisdom onto me and Forbes, he was actually inspiring us to become engineers! Which is something I have loved doing every single day of my life. I have never met a wiser, kinder man and my only regret would be that my son never got to meet him. I think one of the hardest parts of any person’s journey is working out their purpose or what they want to do with their life and thanks to this man, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with mine from a very early age. I owe him everything and it’s because of him that I want to share my knowledge and experience with others, to pass on the torch and spread a little light. After all, what’s life without a few naughty stories?!
If you would like to know more about Dalriada’s history or book our services, please get in touch via our contact page.
