SCAPA Distillery

I was born in 1926 and brought up on the small farm of Nether Scapa, and half a mile from the distillery. My grandfather, and later my father, operated a hiring and haulage business from the farm and this continued throughout the First World War and apart from ferrying sailors from the fleet anchored in Scapa Flow from Scapa Pier to Kirkwall there was also mail contracts for the transport of mail from Kirkwall sorting office to outlying Post Offices.

After the war there was a general move towards motor vehicles for the work my father was engaged in but he was committed to horse drawn vehicles and rather than convert he wound up his business.

It was on a Sunday shortly after that my parents wet out to walk the two or three miles to the farm of Blinkbonny where Mother’s family were farmers and the shortest route lay through the distillery. On the way they met Mr Angus Fraser, the manager of the distillery, whose wife was a close friend of Mother. They got no further that day and were invited to stay for tea. During conversation Mr Fraser asked my dad what he proposed to do now that he no longer had his business. The small farm was hardly big enough to provide support. Father had made no firm plans and Mr Fraser suggested that he work at the distillery and so it came to be.

Father worked there throughout the twenties and up until the distillery closed during the depression. It opened again in the thirties, I don’t recollect the date, probably about 1935, and it is from that time that I had personal experience. Mr Fraser had asked my father if he would come back in the position of head still-man and distillery foreman. Shortly after reopening it was decided to try to achieve five backs instead of the normal four and this required rescheduling of the work pattern. Since it was necessary for my father to be present during the running of the wash he arranged his hours that he was at the distillery from six to eight pm every Monday evening.

As a ten year old schoolboy I liked nothing better than to spend time at the distillery and the Monday evening arrangement gave me that opportunity. There were tasks that I was allowed to do. Lighting twas provided by a steam driven dynamo, I understand taken from an old fishing trawler. This also provided the lights for the manager’s house which was part of the distillery complex. I learned to bleed the condensed steam from the cylinder before opening the steam valve to start the donkey engine. I was also expected to keep and eye on the water tubes and pressure gauge of the main boiler. Power for the distillery machinery was provided by an overshot water-wheel but if the water level in the dam was too low there was a large horizontal steam engine to take over.

Another ‘task’ I enjoyed was keeping a check on the temperature of the worts in the cool end of the refrigerator before being pumped up to the wash back. This had to be controlled within fairly close limits. In those days ‘barm’, a thick creamy liquid, was poured in to the hot end of the refrigerator by the bucket full. Now I notice a powder yeast is used for fermentation. The old refrigerator was a large rectangular trough with a ‘worm’ of cold water pipes to provide the coolant. Nowadays a much more sophisticated ‘cooler’ is used in distilleries. Hot water for the mash tun was provided by a calorifier fed by steam from the boiler.

Saturdays was the day when the barrels were filled and being off school I would be back at the distillery and again I would have something to do. Usually the ends of the butts and hogsheads would already be stencilled by the cooper with the distillery name and date but the quantity could only be added after the barrel was filled I was allowed to stencil in the quantity.

With the outbreak of the second world war the distillery closed again for the duration of hostilities and when it reopened my father had passed retirement age but was asked back in an advisory capacity until production was up and running. I have no personal knowledge of this phase being in the Far East serving King and country.

The two photos enclosed are the only ones I can find. The formal group would date from sometime in the twenties.

The back row from the left Tom Foubister who went to the Highland Park when Scapa closed, his brother John (Jock) Foubister, I don’t remember the next two, then Tom Scott, my father. Seated I don’t know the first two then another Foubisters brother, James, and finally George (Dod) Sutherland, brother-in-law of the Foubisters. Mr Fraser had three sons, the eldest Angus was (I think) a banker, Charles was a deaf mute and did some work in the distillery and was also Orkney County football goalkeeper, the youngest, Rognvald (Ronnie) was wheelchair bound and looked after the books.

The other photo, rolling out the barrels, was probably taken after the reopening in 1945 and although the barrels are dated 1937 was most likely eight year malt being shipped.

I can only recognise two of the men. At the far end of the first butt is Jock Sinclair and at the far end of the second is my father, Tom Scott. This is scanned from a very poor quality postcard sized print, probably taken with a box Brownie and no amount of enhancing on Photoshop will improve it.

These recollections may not be of much use to you but bringing back the memories has whetted my desire for my next distillery visit and the particular aroma peculiar to all distilleries. Who knows, the next may even be the Scapa! I would certainly be interested to see the changes now being made. Last time I was in Orkney I noticed a lot of building work had been carried out, presumably additional bonded warehouses.

Tom Scott, Dunfermline November 2004.