Duncan Winning OBE

Today,  I received a phone call from Gordon Brown to tell me that Duncan Winning OBE died yesterday. He had been ill for some time.  I send my sincere condolences to Duncan's family. 

Duncan was a father figure in Scottish sea kayaking and because he gave of his time generously, he started many people off on a lifetime of sea kayaking adeventures. So  many people have stories about Duncan but I have never heard a bad word about him, he was a true gentleman.

  

I was fortunate to paddle with Duncan on many occasions over the years and how we talked! We were both interested in the history of recreational kayaking (or KAY-a-king as Duncan called it). Of course I was the student and he was the master. Indeed Duncan not only had an encyclopaedic knowledge of kayaking history, he was actually a very important part of its history himself. Duncan was very proud of the fact that all the boats he had owned and paddled since the age of 14 years had been designed by himself. This photo shows Duncan in one of his designs, the GRP Explorer by Island Kayaks of Skye.

We would get so engrossed in our discussions that we would fall far behind the others and finish after dark. I was lucky to paddle with Duncan many times on our home waters of the Firth of Clyde but we also paddled together in the Inner and Outer Hebrides and at the alternating sea kayak symposiums at Skye and Jersey, where he was one of the organisers. 

Duncan had visited the Outer Hebrides over a period of over 40 years. On one of his first visits he and his friend Joe Reid had been caught in a great storm. They were lucky enough to have found a tiny sheltered cove.

He was very keen to find that particular shell sand cove again which was hidden away in the fastnesses of Loch Roag, a huge sea loch on the west coast of Lewis. Unfortunately he could not remember exactly where it was because the storm had blown their map away. During the course of a day's paddle, we stopped at many beautiful white sand Hebridean coves but none was the right one. At last, just as the day was fading, we found Duncan's cove. It was a wonderful moment to share with Duncan.

Duncan's day job also involved the sea. He was an engine room draughtsman in Kincaid's shipyard at Greenock but his true love was designing and building kayaks. 1960 Duncan paddled a kayak that Ken Taylor brought back from Illorsuit (Igdlorssuit) in Greenland. Duncan was so impressed by the handling of this kayak that all his subsequent designs were influenced by it. The above photo taken in 1960 shows Ken in the Igdlorssuit kayak, which had been made for him by local kayak builder Emanuele Korniliussen in 1959.  It is now in the Kelvingrove museum in Glasgow, Scotland. Ken and Duncan were fellow members of Scottish Hostellers Canoe Club.  When Ken left to live in the USA he left the kayak in the care of Duncan and Joe Reid who had taught Duncan to paddle. In 1964 Duncan carefully measured the kayak and made the detailed drawing below.

Duncan freely shared this drawing throughout the small sea kayaking community of the time. Geoff Blackford was one of the people who built a ply-wood version from Duncan's drawing and called it the Anas Acuta. 

In 1972 Valley started to commercially build a GRP version of the Anas Acuta, which is still in production and to this day has infused the British style of sea kayaks with Igdlorssuit roots. This photo shows Andy Spink paddling an Anas Acuta in the waters of Scarp in the Outer Hebrides.

Due to a series of surgical operations I was off the water for some time but Duncan and I kept up our long conversations by phone and, until I could visit him, Duncan came to visit me. I have no doubt that his time spent with me aided and sped my recovery. The last time Duncan and I paddled together was in November 2014. We paddled till long after sunset. It seems just like yesterday. The last time I saw Duncan was about a year ago at Portencross on his beloved Firth of Clyde. His health problem prevented him paddling that day but we enjoyed another of our long conversations.

What a loss his passing is. He was a thoroughly decent and modest family man. His influence in his chosen recreation of sea kayaking is immeasurable due to his gift of time to others, willingness to share knowledge and quiet leadership. Farewell Duncan and thank you.

Sheila Wilcox 29/7/1928 - 30/7/2014

My mother Sheila has died. Both she and my father gave my brother Donald and myself our lifelong interest in mucking about in boats. This photo was taken in 1962 which was my fourth season on the water! However, Sheila gave us much more. Below is the eulogy I spoke at her funeral service in Ayr.

A breezy day, September 2013, walking along the Solway coast.

My brothers and I were so lucky to be born to Sheila. I first became aware that our mother was a bit different to friends' mothers when I started primary school in Dingwall. She was always visiting needy or bereaved people, bringing them companionship and help. I had grown up thinking this was normal because Sheila's mother, Agnes, also did the same. In those days religious observance was very important in Dingwall. I was in the same class at school as a boy down the road but found we went to different Sunday schools. I went home and asked Mum "What kind of Christian are you?" She looked me in the eye and said "I am a practicing Christian." As a child I did not really know  what she meant but as the years passed and I watched how she lived her life, I came to understand.

In addition to being a wife and mother, Sheila was a teacher of domestic science. Years later, while my wife and I were working as doctors, we came across people who asked "Are you related to Mrs Wilcox? She was a wonderful teacher!" 

 

In her "spare" time, Sheila loved her garden and greenhouse, walking her dog, golfing, swimming, bridge, reading, driving her car, going out for lunch with friends and, when she was younger, 1st XI hockey at Marr College, badminton, country dancing, sailing, hill walking and playing piano. Her house was constantly filled with the rattle of her sewing machine and the smell of baking as she sewed, cooked and baked for family, friends and charity.

 Sheila in about 1949 at Glasgow College of Domestic Science.

Sheila had a great capacity for love and caring. She moved in many circles and her phone book is full of friends from Glasgow Do' School, the teaching and  veterinary worlds, golf, bridge, St Leonard's church, the Ayrshire hospice (for which she was a volunteer for nearly 26 years), Cardoness where she spent her holidays and the many people she was looking out for. After Sheila died, I phoned people in her book, many of whom I did not know. Some were old friends from school days and others were very recent friends but all described the same joy in Sheila's friendship. Sheila was forgiving, she never held grudges and she always saw the best in people. Sheila was very independent, she would rather look after others than be looked after herself. After 57 years of marriage, when Rae died,  she was heartbroken but she pulled herself together and often said "I'm doing just fine". Despite being on her own, she filled the empty space in her life by going out and helping others again.  

Two years ago, after Sheila had major open chest surgery, she was given only two months to live. Sheila was determined to prove the doctors wrong when it would have been all too easy to just give up. Alison, her daughter in law, nursed her back to health over those two months. At the end of this time Sheila said to me "I think I am ready to go out for a drive". "Certainly Mum where would you like to go and I'll take you?"  "No, no, I'll drive, I only need you to check I'm OK". Earlier this year, when her breast cancer was well advanced, she had two cataract operations so that she could continue to drive. Then, just six weeks before she died, Sheila drove to and from her great grandson's first birthday party in Glasgow. She took with her three cakes and trays of pastries which she had spent hours baking.
 
Sheila was modest, sharing and so generous with her time. She was always thinking of others, whose needs she often  put first. Many times I tried to take her out for lunch only to be told "Sorry, I am just away to see an old friend is all right".  She loved nothing better than teaching friends to golf and helping youngsters who might have otherwise been unable to play. When Sheila was in hospital for the last time, a 99 year old friend sent a get well message. Despite her situation, Sheila's eyes lit up and said "Please tell her I'm doing just fine and I hope she is keeping well too".

Sheila was uncomplaining. Her last illness was challenging and painful but the nurses said she never complained. The New Testament has a proverb "As you sow, so shall you reap". After a lifetime of caring for others and when Sheila needed help most, she found herself surrounded not just by her family but by loving neighbours, friends and professionals who cared for her as if she were their own. Her one regret was that she spent much of her last three summers in hospital and missed her glorious garden. Both her birthday and anniversary were in July, when the roses bloom and these were her favourite flowers. When she was in hospital for the last time, I took her photographs as each of her beautiful roses blossomed throughout the month. It was a joy to see her smile, her eyes light up and nod her head in appreciation.

Sheila was an eternal optimist. Just over two months ago, I was with her when (for the second time), a doctor gave her just two months to live. By this time she knew how to cope with bad news. Going out to her car (she was driving) she said, "Six months, that's not so bad." By the time she got home to family and friends this had grown to five years! "I am doing just fine" she said and with a smile she went off to the greenhouse, sowing seeds for next year. She loved life and never gave up hope, not even at the very end of her long illness.

As the family shared a bedside vigil with Sheila, one of the very last things she said to me was "Will they accept me?"  I cannot imagine anyone who would be not be willing to accept Sheila into their fold. In the small hours of her last night I was stroking her hair and cheek when I was overwhelmed to feel so much of her love just slipping away through my fingers and there was nothing I could do to hold on. Then I heard her voice inside my head. "You're just feeling sorry for yourself, I'm doing just fine, now go out there and do some good in the World". When I got home in the early morning, the petals of the last of her beautiful roses had fallen to the ground and I knew that the natural cycle had turned. The love and time Sheila had so willingly shared with others had come to an end. Only precious memories now remain and to hold on to these, we should try to live a little like Sheila.

Sheila thank you for giving us so much love and joy. God bless you.

Sheila's last rose