Love affair that began when an Uigeach swam ashore in San Francisco

Emigration was not the sole preserve of the Metagama or the Marloch, of course. It had been happening for years before and since, as people headed for their fortunes - or at least a new life - away from a home community which often offered limited opportunity.

It is also why it leads to the famous saying: you can travel the world and you’ll always come across a Lewisman – even today in the White House, but maybe the less said about that the better.

Within the wider movement of island emigration, there are the individual stories: often heartbreaking, often ending with success, and almost inevitably fascinating.

That was very much the case with one visitor to Lewis this week, who made the journey from California to visit some relatives, the writer included. How his grand-parents ended up on the other side of the world is a case in point in exploring island emigration.

Young Donald Macritchie left the village of Carnish in Uig around 1914 to work as a merchant seaman.

As the vessel on which he was aboard edged towards its destination, near to where the Golden Gate Bridge sits today in San Francisco Bay, it sank and he was forced to swim ashore. He knew where to track some fellow islanders in the burgeoning city – and so began a life’s story on the western seaboard of America.

His grandson, also Donald Macritchie, more commonly known as Don, takes up a tale which involves a fair share of tragedy, but also undoubted success.

“My grand-father found himself in San Francisco without a job as where he had worked had just gone to the bottom of the sea,” he said. “He had a friend in San Francisco, Angus MacIver, also from Lewis, Ness in fact, and he looked him up.

“It was open immigration at the time, unlike today. It was easy for Europeans but, actually, not so for Asians with the Chinese Exclusion Act. Anyway, he hooked up with Angus and the two of them became partners in a stonemason business.

“Not long after, Angus’s sister, Jessie Maciver, came for a visit. The two of them hit it off, Jessie and Donald, and they planned to get married.”

Jessie, however, could not stay as she was then in the employ of a wealthy Scottish woman as her companion, probably what we would know today as a personal assistant.

But it wasn’t long before she returned to California to build a married life with Donald.

The stonemasonry business was enjoying huge success and the new life, for all of them, was shaping up well. They secured major contracts on public works in the city, including construction of the City Hall and the Coit Tower, two of San Francisco's most famous landmarks.

But then tragedy struck.

“Two days before my father was born, Donald was killed in a work accident,” said Don. “He was on a crane while they were bringing up a load. The story I was told is that there were fellows on the load and it was starting to go.

"My grand-father jumped over to help and climbed on to help another guy but the load went down and he was killed. He did succeed in helping the others off the crane and as the last one left, it went down.

“Jessie came home from hospital with my father and moved in with her brother, Angus, and his wife, Catherine MacInnes. So until my Dad went away to the services in World War Two, that’s where they stayed.”

Don describes a home which, despite the tragic background, was in many ways idyllic: there was a constant stream of relatives and islanders from back home visiting, a busy Gaelic-speaking household in an area of San Francisco known locally as Scottish Hill. “My Dad referred to it as the greatest childhood anyone could have.”

After the war Don’s Dad, also Donald, left San Francisco University with a degree in business and entered the insurance industry, and went on to enjoy a very successful career himself, having set up his own agency.

During his time in the forces he had hoped to be a pilot but was prevented by hearing damage and a hand and shoulder injury after being almost blown up in a mortar attack.

“He was a foot soldier for the rest of the war, but my Dad always said that the mortar explosion helped save his life,” said Don. “The division he had initially hoped to join was part of the D-Day attack and only a few of them survived.”

Over the years the family have been visiting Lewis as much as possible and they were trips that Cleo, Donald’s wife and Don’s mother, enjoyed as much as anyone. “She loved everyone over here.”

Don tells the story of the family being highly amused during a visit in 1976 when the Gazette reported that… “Two American visitors were being made welcome in the community of Ness, Donald Macritchie and his Greek wife Cleo”.

“Actually my mother’s father was Greek and they owned restaurants, having stowed away from a small island. Nobody really knows at what age, maybe 15 or so. He started working in restaurants, learning the trade and ended up owning a couple of restaurants.”

Don’s Dad was 95 when he passed away and his mum, 98, and he himself is a sprightly 71. Don laughs. “My Dad always said the key to a long life was the ‘water of life’, which he enjoyed every night. They had a great life, my parents, and they were really happy people. They loved to have fun. We weren’t wealthy but we were never without. They had all these blessings and lots of family around.”

Don has been retired for a few years now, and his wasn’t an ordinary career’s trajectory, by any means. He has a Double Major from the University of California, in art and psychology, which suggests a fairly impressive intellect.

“Well, not really,” he counters. “If I was really wise I’d have chosen two more practical and profitable courses, like business and engineering maybe.”

The first part of his professional life was spent as a commercial artist and art director, primarily designing adverts for a record company.

“But I had a friend who was a private investigator and was after me to join his business. I would be doing a wee bit with him just as a lark, but then I thought: ‘You know I would probably have more time to do the art I want to do even being full-time as a private investigator’. So that’s what I did and eventually set up my own agency.”

Don is quick to dismiss any notion of the life of a private investigator being a glamorous one. The reality is far from the Hollywood movie depiction.

“We specialised in trial preparation, so you’re working directly for the law firms that are taking a case to trials,” he explains. “The benefit of that is that the budgets are limitless. It was all civil work. The budgets for criminal are much less.

“We did a wide range of civil work: insurance fraud, accident liability, industrial liability and particularly asbestos, chasing the companies on behalf of those who had suffered asbestos poisoning. We only performed defense work for the companies that were sued for exposure.

“Asbestos litigation is different in that a Plaintiff simply names virtually the entire universe of asbestos manufacturers and the necessary investigation is to sort those that made the products that exposed the Plaintiff from those whose products were not used in his presence. That particular aspect lasted for a long time, right up until the time I retired.”

Right now Don is just enjoying his time in Lewis, even the days when it is cold and wet. His only disappointment is that the time is short; he’s not able to visit as many relatives as he would like. But another visit is planned soon, with a much bigger contingent of the MacRitchie/MacIver Californians. The island connection clearly means so much.

“This is as close to a family as we have,” he said. “When we came over here in 1976 we met the most wonderful people I’ve ever met. The ashes of both my parents are scattered here.”

One can only wonder what the Donald who swam into San Francisco Bay to save his own life would have made of it all.

“I have two minds about that. First of all I’m glad he made it over from the ship or else I wouldn’t be here with you, cause that’s the way it works, right. And I’m glad it was California cause it’s a really great place to live.

“On the other hand I’ve often thought if it had worked out differently and somehow it all happened over here, and I’d have grown up in Ness, that would have been wonderful, too. I just see this as one of the greatest places in the world, not just to grow up in but to grow old. Just being here is fantastic.”