One of the women, Gayatri, whom some islanders were overheard calling ‘the Paki one’ – her family was from India, though she had a degree from a university in Britain – opted to do the weekly shop. Every Thursday afternoon at two o’clock, Fred waited for Gayatri at the Skellar landing stage, and ferried her over to Lerston. He reported that she always bought milk (the commune didn’t yet have electricity or a fridge), packaged bread, fresh vegetables and fruit. He watched her munching on an apple as she prowled the aisles; purchasing candles, porridge oats, biscuits and pasta; a bottle of whisky. She disliked any foodstuff with an explicitly male name or history – Uncle Ben’s, McVitie’s, Cadbury’s.

The commune soon declared its intention to hire only work-women. The first female plumber, from Edinburgh, left in a huff, and was replaced by another from North Berwick, tutored from the boat by her brother. Fantastic-looking bathroom fittings were carried over by the sceptical ferryman. These were followed by an expensive gas stove with cast-iron hobs, many gas bottles, and a kitchen table which the commune had persuaded the joiner from one of the Scottish skerries to help his daughter make from timber imported from the mainland.

At the beginning of September, a notice went up on the pinboard in the post offices in Lerston and Ayrness. It addressed itself to the Women of the Archipelago, and offered a trial evening class that Wednesday in ‘Cleansing Thought’. Those interested in the workshop were to wait at the pier for Fred at six o’clock. The boat would return to Lerston at eight, but a night’s accommodation on Skellar was offered; sleeping bags were recommended.