Wild Wanderings by Phil Gribbon sampler

wild wanderings
Ian Hamilton, a perceptive judge of the WH Murray Prize entries that year,
said the story was about ‘the age-old theme of the master/pupil relationship’.
And there was the pupil, in his late 50s, being put firmly in his place.
However, as my story goes on to relate, there was an evening in Greenland
when Phil and I canoed back to base-camp across Tasermiut Fjord.
It was late, we were both tired and when, manhandling the canoe up the
beach, I clumsily dropped my end, Phil made a snappish remark. I apologised
at once, accepting responsibility. Somehow, from that moment on, I
wasn’t just another student on an expedition but I sensed that he actually
had time for me as a person. He has always been very devoted to long-lasting
relationships and ancient traditions and I think he perhaps sensed that I
felt the same. Oddly enough, now that I think of it, we had something else in
common: we were both married; none of the others were, and, although Phil
would never in a thousand years have admitted to missing Margot (although
I’m sure he did), he probably noticed that I was missing Angie and that may
have added to the feeling of closeness.
Although stingy with food – he once, rather reluctantly, gave me a dry
rock-cake at the top of a climb on Creag Meagaidh – even more so with
drink, and tight-fisted with money to the extent that to this day he goes
round in the most ragged and antiquated climbing clothes and is delighted
to use other people’s climbing gear (and you certainly wouldn’t want to trust
his), Phil is not at all stingy with the things that really matter.
I remember with deep gratitude a visit he made to us when we were in exile
in darkest Merseyside and my ill-fated career as an English teacher had come
to a shuddering halt in a nervous-breakdown. I remember when I opened the
door to him and we shook hands he just looked me in the eye and said:
‘Are you all right?’
I said, ‘Yes.’
And he said, ‘Really?’
We sat in the garden for a whole sunny afternoon and Phil looked
through Tom Strang’s recently published Guide to the Northern Highlands.
It wasn’t anything he said, but I just felt so much better afterwards.
As many of the stories in Wild Wanderings show, Phil loved going to the
cic hut on Ben Nevis. He delighted in its special atmosphere and jestingly,
but very sincerely, venerated its long-suffering custodians. Our old friend
and fellow Greenland expeditioner, Mike Jacob, captures Phil brilliantly in
some of his articles. In Greenland, Phil was the ‘Gaffersnake’ on our Snakes
and Ladders board. Thus on the Ben:
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