The thought of being your own boss is the stuff of many a desk daydream and most of us, at one time or another, have entertained the idea of starting a business.

However, all too frequently, responsibilities and financial constraints can mean that it doesn’t seem a viable choice. But what if it were?

What if you did pursue your goals?

Could you be the next Richard Branson?

These are the questions being asked at ISLEXPO later this month, as an exciting programme of talks and workshops inspires delegates to embrace the entrepreneur within.

The event’s line-up is led by successful technology entrepreneur, start-up advisor and investor, Dale Murray CBE.

Dale will share lessons on starting and growing a business, looking at the importance of risk, determination and opportunity, as well as how to maintain your nerve and believe in your product.

She is joined by Jimmy Cregan, founder of ‘Jimmy’s Iced Coffee’.

Jimmy discovered iced coffee while travelling and was inspired to launch his own brand on returning home to Dorset.

Now, through a combination of grit, charm and a canny approach to social media, he has seen his product stocked nationwide in Selfridges, Whole Foods, Waitrose and Sainsbury’s.

After being fired up by the speakers, delegates can see entrepreneurs present their business ideas to an expert panel of investors in ‘Pitch It!’, and even take part in the action themselves with live-polling.

This will be followed by ‘Student Pitch It!’, a session showcasing the business vision of the island’s most enterprising young people.

ISLEXPO is free to attend and takes place on May 25, at the Villa Marina. Register at www.islexpo.com

l Wereported last week that finding funding for a business of any size can be a challenge, but for those just starting out or in the early stages of growth it can be especially daunting.

The Department of Economic Development says ISLEXPO is a great place to learn about the options available to companies on the island and is free for all to attend.

The event will also celebrate the launch of the department’s £50m Enterprise Development Scheme (EDS) and showcase the different ways in which government offers support to businesses.

The EDS is designed to provide grant, loan and equity investment to start-ups, expanding local businesses and companies looking to relocate to the island.

This was the scene as steel girders for the replacement Old Laxey Bridge were unloaded at the village’s harbour.

Some 21 tonnes of steel was shipped to this island today (Thursday).

It was transported from Belfast on Mezeron’s Silver River, arriving in Laxey harbour at just after 9am.

The concrete abutments for the new bridge have already been constructed – but there’s still a lot of work to do before the two sides of the village are reunited again.

The first girders were due to be craned into position this afternoon.

Engineers are confident that the replacement bridge will be ready in time for TT – at least on a temporary basis.

Aidan McCusker, asset engineering manager at the Department of Infrastructure, said the steel deck should be completed by Sunday and work on the in situ concrete deck will begin on Monday.

He said: ‘It is proposed to have a temporary surface ready to receive traffic by the commencement of the TT Festival. The road would be closed on completion of the TT Festival to allow the bridge works to be completed.’

The old bridge was irreparably damaged in December when flash flooding caused part of the structure to collapse – plunging a double decker bus into the river below.

While many people wanted the option of a new arched bridge, the department’s engineers opted for a flat bridge which will reduce the likelihood of any future flood damage by allowing the river to flow unimpeded out to sea.

An appeal hearing over controversial plans for a development of homes and shops in Crosby will take place on Tuesday.

The meeting, over the land at Ballagloney, will take place at 9.30am in Central Government Offices in Douglas and anyone with ‘interested party’ status can attend and speak if they wish.

Approval was given on February 8 to the application by JM Project Management Limited for the construction of 28 dwellings and provision of retail space.

An appeal against the decision was lodged by Crosby residents and Marown Parish Commissioners.

You can view the plans on the government’s website under planning reference PA 15/00775/A.

The feasibility study that made the case for a TT world series has been made public for the first time.

In the House of Keys this week, LibVan leader Kate Beecroft (Douglas South) asked when the report would be published.

Economic Development Minister Laurence Skelly replied that the 2012 study had been circulated to members in December last year together with the details of the changes that had taken place since that work was undertaken - but he was happy for both to be made public.

It was announced last October that plans to launch a TT world series had been shelved - with the DED Minister admitting it had always been a ‘high risk idea’. The bill for the project was just short of £300,000 - money paid in fees and expenses to the Sports Consultancy which was appointed to carry out the feasibility study.

Last month, Tynwald approved the appointment of Vision Nine as private sector promoter for the TT and Classic TT, with ambitious plans to invest £2.5m in the event and attract tens of thousands of new visitors.

Vision Nine’s 10-year contract gives it the option to discuss the feasibility of future off-island TT events, although the DED would have the power of veto on this.

The department has now provided a copy of the Sports Consultancy’s feasibility study to the Manx Independent.

The redacted report shows that there was early interest in hosting a round of the TT series from a variety of locations across the globe including the Middle East, the Far East, Europe, Africa, Australasia, and South America.

Direct economic impact of hosting a round of the series is estimated at £13.7m, at 2012 prices, compared with £17.3m for the Isle of Man TT itself. With five rounds and the home-based event, the total economic impact is estimated at £85m.

The Sports Consultancy said the TT and Manx government would benefit through the increased exposure in television and media created by the series.

Money would be generated by broadcasting rights, merchandising and licensing - although the current revenues to government from the races have been redacted. There would also be a hosting fee which the consultants calculated at a potential £877,000 from each host venue.

The Sports Consultantcy also identified the risks. These include reputational risk from death or injury, competition from a rival road racing series, insurance becoming unaffordable, opposition from the International Motorcycling Federation and lack of interest from broadcasters, sponsors or riders. The consultants accepted the number of risks could increase if the decision was taken to proceed.

More on this story in Tuesday’s Isle of Man Examiner.

{http://www.iomtoday.co.im/news/isle-of-man-news/will-tt-world-series-get-off-the-ground-1-7065165|Click here to read a report about the TT world series idea from January 2015}

Stories of remarkable professionalism, compassion and courage were revealed as police officers and members of the public were honoured for their bravery.

The Chief Constable’s annual awards ceremony was held at the Villa Marina in Douglas when certificates of merit, commendations and trophies were presented to scores of deserving recipients.

Here are some of their stories - many of them told in detail for the first time.

Sometimes the worst of tragedies come out of a clear blue sky, without any advanced warning. And they sometimes leave a deep mark on many people.

What happened on the main Castletown to Port Erin road near to Balladoole one Saturday afternoon in October 2013 was all of those things.

At about 3.40pm a single decker bus was being driven towards Port Erin by Mr Donald Faragher, a vastly experienced driver.

There were seven passengers on the bus and the journey was as uneventful until a car veered directly into the path of the bus. It continued at speed straight for the front of the bus.

This and subsequent events were captured on the bus’s CCTV system.

Mr Faragher reacted quickly and with great skill. He can be seen calmly but quickly steering as far away from the car as he could, although he had limited room for manoeuvre.

Sadly, when the car struck the bus a child, who was a passenger in the car, suffered fatal injuries.

However, without Mr Faragher’s composed, quick thinking and driving skill this terrible tragedy would have become a major disaster.

In the immediate aftermath and in considerable pain from a serious injury that eventually led to his retirement, Mr Faragher had the presence of mind to check on all of his passengers and even give them writing materials, so that the police would know the identities of everyone involved.

For his composure, quick thinking and driving skill that undoubtedly saved lives, Mr Donald Faragher was formally commended.

The driver who crashed head-on into the bus, Raymond Adam D’Olier French, received a 12-month suspended prison sentence. His 10-year-old daughter Alexis died in the accident. He admitted charges of causing death by dangerous driving and causing serious injury to the bus driver.

The period between November 2015 and February 2016 was the wettest ever recorded in the Isle of Man. Extreme weather seemed almost to become a daily occurrence, with heavy rainfall being made worse by almost relentless gales.

However, Thursday December 3 will be long remembered as the worst of many, many awful days.

On this day sudden and extreme rainfall led to flash flooding of a kind never before experienced here. The most memorable image of that day was the sight of a double-decker bus stranded in the Laxey River after the bridge beneath collapsed.

The flash flooding in Douglas was particularly sudden and particularly deep. Motorists became stranded on the main Douglas to Peel road near to the Quarterbridge as the Rivers Dhoo and Glass burst their banks, flooding the road in a matter of minutes to waist height.

Officers were deployed to help and were confronted with the sight of cars being swept along the road.

Constables Benjamin Horan and Lana Gardner found themselves at the site of the deepest flooding, where motorists trying to escape from their cars were at risk of being swept away.

Firstly they took one middle aged woman from her car to safety just as the car was being swept along the road, then they noticed two people clinging desperately to a lamppost as they were enveloped by fast flowing flood water.

Constable Horan saved the woman by lifting her onto the roof of a car and then onto a flat back lorry. The other person, an 85-year-old man, was still clinging to the lamppost, but he believed that he was about to die.

Showing great courage Constable Horan rescued him from the flood water, eventually carrying him to safety.

Both officers acted in a fantastic manner, showing courage, quick thinking and compassion.

There is no doubt at all that they saved lives and the man who he saved, who in a letter to the Chief Constable told him he was sure that he would die. He was at the ceremony with his daughter to see Constables Horan and Gardner being formally commended for saving his life.

Carnivals should be happy family occasions and the revival of Douglas carnival on July 18 last year was intended to be just that.

However, strong, squally winds almost brought about a tragedy.

At about 3pm a gust of wind picked up an inflatable bouncy castle that was on the footway on Loch Promenade and blew it over the wall and into the sea.

At the time six-year-old Liam Hansen, from Onchan was playing on the inflatable and he was thrown into the water.

Johnny Glover was nearby with his four year old son, who had just been on the inflatable, when he saw what happened.

Giving no thought for his own safety he jumped fully clothed into the sea and swam to where Liam was in danger of drowning.

Conditions were difficult and the fact that he and the small boy were fully clothed made swimming difficult, but Mr Glover got to him and stopped him from sinking below the water.

Other members of the pubic saw what had happened and they were able to throw a life ring and a rope to Mr Glover and pull him and the small boy to safety.

Mr Glover’s great courage saved the life of a small child and for this he was formally commended.

The Isle of Man is the safest jurisdiction in the British Isles.

However, serious crimes occasionally occur and, without warning, ordinary members of the public can find themselves facing danger.

On an evening in November last year year Eleanor Rubery was working at a shop in Braddan, when a man armed with a knife and wearing a mask entered the store.

He threatened her with the knife, pushing it against her back as he pushed her towards the tills, ordering her to open them and give him their contents.

In spite of the violence and the threats that were being made, Miss Rubery coolly and calmly pressed the shop’s panic alarm button.

This angered the man, who made ever more violent threats to her and her colleague. Despite this, she stood her ground and refused to hand over any money.

The man subsequently made off before the police arrived.

Miss Rubery showed great courage throughout her whole ordeal and for this and for her calm, quick thinking she was formally commended.

Deborah Bell was formally commended for helping to save the life of a pillion passenger following a head-on crash between two motorcycles near Glen Wyllin campsite during the TT fortnight last year.

With the rider and pillion passenger of one machine laying critically injured and the rider of the other machine suffering serious injuries, Mrs Bell took charge, assessing the casualties and ensuring that the two riders were treated properly.

She swiftly determined that the pillion passenger was gravely ill and she made sure that swift action was taken to remove her helmet so that she could be given the lifesaving treatment she needed.

Thankfully murders are very rare events in the Isle of Man.

Few officers are ever called upon to attend such an incident but when they do they have to get everything right so that the offender can be brought to justice.

This was the case in Castletown early on Sunday December 1 2013.

Neil Roberts, a 60-year-old gardener, had been brutally murdered in a small cottage in Queen Street.

The first officers to attend were Constables Mark Langley and Adam Tomlinson, the latter of whom had less than six months’ operational experience.

Acting swiftly and professionally they quickly determined what had happened, with Constable Tomlinson taking hold of the suspected murderer, whilst his colleague began to render first aid to the terribly injured victim.

Constable Tomlinson acted coolly and was able to record important statements made at the scene by the suspect.

The officers were soon joined by Constable Louise Kennaugh, who helped Constable Langley, and Constable Anne Tyler, who took control of the wife of the suspect, who was volatile and attempting to interfere in what the officers were doing.

The whole situation was fraught and extremely difficult to manage. The injuries suffered by the victim were almost indescribably horrific. Yet the officers did all they could to save him.

The officers were joined by three paramedics, Valerie Cochrane, Dawn Kneen and Louise Wilson, each of whom worked valiantly in hugely trying conditions.

However, Mr Roberts’ injuries were so severe that he could not be saved.

For the excellence of their work at the scene of such an awful murder Constables Mark Langley (who retired from the Constabulary a few months ago), Adam Tomlinson, Louise Kennaugh and Anne Tyler awere formally commended, as were paramedics Valerie Cochrane, Dawn Kneen and Louise Wilson.

Chief Inspector Philip Shimmin and Detective Constable Emily Butler were formally commended for the excellence of their investigation into the murder.

This has led to 46-year-old Ian Anderson being jailed jailed for life - with the Deemster ordering he serve a minimum of 15 years behind bars.

Constable David Trevethan & Constable Anne Tyler were formally commended for saving the lives of two teenage boys.

In the afternoon of Sunday November 29 lasdt year, the island was struck by storm force winds, which coincided with a high tide.

Two teenage boys, aged 14 and 15, had chosen to go to the end of Castletown breakwater and play chicken with the vast and powerful waves that were breaking over it.

It soon became apparent that the boys were in imminent danger of being swept to their deaths.

Constables Trevethan and Tyler were alerted to what was going on and they quickly made their way to the scene. They could see the boys trying to shelter behind the small lighthouse at the end of the breakwater.

The officers quickly decided on a course of action to rescue the boys. They drove the van along the breakwater, hugging the sea wall as huge waves crashed on top of them. At one point the van was struck by a wave and moved sideways towards the harbour.

Had it fallen into the sea, the officers would likely have lost their lives. They reached the boys and then reversed to safety along the wall.

Just a few days later a large part of the breakwater was washed away by the power of the sea.

Winner of this year’s Isle of Man Newspapers’ Community Police Officer of the Year award was Sergeant Dawn Lowe.

She was nominated by a vulnerable young woman who has endured several crises during her short life.

At various times she has contemplated harming herself, or even ending her own life, and on some of these occasions Sergeant Lowe has been in the right place at the right time.

In an emotive email nominating Sergeant Lowe for the award, the young woman described how the officer has always gone beyond the call of duty to help her.

She wrote: ‘To have the support means a great deal to me it shows that officers do care when others (professionals) don’t and that they are willing to risk their own life’s for yours! Great respect for Dawn restoring faith in police and policing.’

Saturday night sees a welcome return and second visit overall to the stage at Amber in Douglas for In The Blood.

The band has in recent months started to make their presence felt on the local live scene thanks to a fairly regular schedule of live dates in the bars and pubs of the island.

The band features guitarists James Craig and Mark Lawrence, Andy James on drums, Dave Brew on vocals and Jamie Christian on bass.

They cite their influences as anywhere from progressive rock to country blues with a smattering of rock.

Joining In The Blood will be The Bird and The Beards.

The band’s line-up includes Steph Tomlinson on vocals, Nell Kneale and Mike Giles on guitars, and Neil Bashaw on cajon.

They specialise in acoustic covers that includes the likes of Sting, The Stereophonics, Kenny Loggins, Eric Carmen and Donna Summer amongst many others.

Finally, and completing the bill, are new boys on the scene, Alex Harris (feat.The Other Side).

While this unit is new, the line-up of the band is no stranger to the Manx music scene.

Here you’ll find Alex Harris on lead vocals/guitar, Jimmy Lee on bass, Steph Tomlinson and Nell Kneale from the aforementioned The Bird and The Beards on backing vocals and guitar respectively, and John Cleator on drums.

The band has only recently played their debut show having supported 10cc on their visit to Manx shores last month. Not a bad start at all!

The doors for this free event open at 8pm with Alex Harris (feat. The Other Side) opening proceedings from 8.30pm. Tomorrow night (Friday) sees The Nexus Bar, in Douglas, play host to a live music and charity auction fundraiser in aid of both Wish Upon A Dream Isle of Man and Cool Earth.

The line-up features singer/songwriter Matt Kelly.

Matt is known via local bands King Chiaullee, Strengyn, Hoodoo Nation and The Ballaghs, and his style and influences rooted mainly toward more Celtic leanings.

Joining Matt on the bill is hip-hop MC and live looping specialist Han FX (aka Keiran Hannifan).

Manx Radio DJ Ed Oldham will also be spinning some tunes on the night.

If more of a club vibe is to your taste, then it might be worth having a look at Low End Theory.

The drum ’n’ bass, liquid and jungle night hosted by Isle of Man Junglist Cartel takes place at The Crescent in Queen’s Promenade, Douglas, on Saturday night from 10pm.

Special guests are London-based Manga from the Neutronic Beats Jump Up crew.

Also on the decks will be Stealth Kru’s DJ Teach, MoBeats, Tall Scott, Oshy and Fizzy and MC Matt Lambah.

It’s free entry.

--------------------

Steve Leach brings the latest rumblings, murmurings, news and views on forthcoming events in and around the island’s music scene. Help support the scene by emailing leachsteve@hotmail.com

Nedbank Private Wealth has won Best UK Private Bank for a second year running at the City of London Wealth Management Awards 2016.

The awards were announced at a gala dinner at The Guildhall, which was hosted by BBC news presenter Sophie Raworth.

Greg Horton, Nedbank Private Wealth’s international executive head, said: ‘The purpose of the City of London Wealth Management Awards is to recognise and promote quality of service from wealth management companies and individuals.

‘What is particularly satisfying is that the winners are determined by a public online vote and the poll is reviewed by an independent panel of judges. The fact that so many of our UK clients and contacts have made time to go online and actively support us speaks volumes about how much respect they have for us and how much they value our behaviours. We are so grateful to them and will continue to always strive to put their interests beyond all others.

‘This award represents a strong, independent endorsement of our team’s ongoing commitment to providing exemplary service.

‘It also reflects our unique integrated banking and wealth management service, Focus, which can be tailored to suit each client’s individual financial needs. Within Focus, clients can choose from an extensive range of financial services including international banking, global discretionary and execution-only investment dealing and settlement services.’

Stephen Pinner, managing director of Goodacre UK, the specialist business and technology consultancy behind the awards, said: ‘Winning a City of London Wealth Management Award is significant proof of distinction for the best companies and individuals providing services for private investors.

‘The fact that winners are determined by individual votes is a huge endorsement for all winners.’

End of life care at Noble’s Hospital compares favourably with counterparts in the UK, the Health Minister told MHKs.

Howard Quayle was quizzed in the House of Keys by LibVan leader Kate Beecroft (Douglas South) about how the island compared with UK hospitals in a new benchmarking report.

Mr Quayle said the report, entitled End of Life Care Audit: Dying in Hospital, showed that many areas compare well with their UK counterparts and some areas are better than UK hospitals.

He told MHKs: ‘There are some areas to work on, and those are highlighted in the recommendations section. On the whole, however, end of life care is well managed in Noble’s Hospital.

‘The audit showed that Noble’s Hospital has made improvements to ensure better care for dying people and better support for their families, carers, friends and those important to them. The results for the Isle of Man were, in the most part, better than the national average.

‘However, we should not be complacent, Mr Speaker, and should aim for continuous improvement to ensure high quality of end of life care for all who need it.’

Anagh Coar Primary School celebrated a milestone anniversary with a series of special events.

The school opened a history display, 40 years to the day that the first pupils were registered.

It was opened by the first headteacher of the school, Norma Cowell, who headed the school for 24 years.

Current headteacher Rob Coole said: ‘Norma’s input into these celebrations has been invaluable.

‘She helped me piece together the stories from the last 40 years for our assemblies and history display and gave the children a flavour of what life was like in the early days when she was interviewed by the classes. It has been lovely to welcome her into the school because she talks with the same pride in the school community that I feel every day - especially at special times like this.’

The celebrations on Tuesday, April 26, started with a party in the school hall for the 144 pupils who currently attend the school.

The children had party food, listened to the sounds of 1976 and watched slideshows of photographs from the last five decades that the school’s history spans. The party finished with the pupils singing ‘Happy Birthday Dear Anagh Coar’ before the official proceedings started in order to open the history display to the public.

Bill Malarkey MHK, Douglas Mayor Sara Hackman and Mayoress Carol Malarkey were also in attendance as well as some of the pupils from the first intake.

The children sang the Manx National Anthem, just like the pupils of 1976 did, to start this section of the afternoon off, followed by ‘Save All Your Kisses For Me’ by Brotherhood of Man, the song that was number one when the school opened.

Miss Cowell’s opening speech included the following story: ‘The opening event in 1976 saw a group of parents, members of the Board of Education and other local dignitaries gather in the school hall for a special event.

‘I really wanted to make sure the children could be involved too so organised that our teachers came in to throw a party for the children in the classroom area at the same time.

It is lovely to be here today to be part of this party that sees the children being the centre of the celebrations.

‘To hear the children’s laughter at the old photographs of themselves on the slideshow really reminds me what working with children is like and why I loved it so much. My years at Anagh Coar School really were the best years of my life and I thank you all for welcoming me back to be a part of these celebrations.’

The afternoon finished with the children singing a song called ‘My Teacher’ before the children went out to play giving visitors the opportunity to look around the displays from the 1960s (the building of the estate) to the 2010s (the time that Mr Coole has headed the school).

The rest of the week has seen a number of former pupils, staff members and parents of the school visiting the display between 3.30pm and 5pm. Many of these visitors made more than one trip over the week and spread the word via social media in order to gain wider interest.

There were many positive comments left in the visitors book including: ‘Fantastic displays - great memories’ from Mandy Ellwood and ‘Brilliant display - 40 years a brilliant school’ from Margaret Longden.

Two special assemblies took place on Friday, April 29, to end the week-long celebrations. These assemblies took the audiences on a musical tour of some number ones from each decade, told the story of the school’s history and Key Stage 1 sang a number of school based songs to remind everyone what being part of a school community is all about. The final song ‘We’re So Proud of Our School’ really did sum up the feelings of everyone involved in the week’s celebrations.

The wall based displays and QR code photograph slideshows will remain in the school hall until the summer holidays and if anyone who didn’t get the chance to visit the school would still like to see these they can get in touch with the school on anaghcoarenquiries@sch.im to arrange a suitable time to visit.

The official Tynwald report into allegations that John Houghton MHK had been a bully has now been published.

The Manx Independent reported yesterday that the Douglas North representative had been ordered to make a formal apology after he was found to have bullied, lied and inappropriately interfered in a staffing matter.

But Mr Houghton described the investigation by the Tynwald standards committee as an ‘institutional witch-hunt’ and a ‘stitch up’ by a ‘kangaroo court’ - and he had been given no proper opportunity to put his case.

The committee, whose report is to be debated at this month’s Tynwald sitting, had been asked by Speaker Steve Rodan in July last year to investigate ‘very serious allegations’ about the conduct of Mr Houghton after he took up the case of a member of staff who had claimed she was being bullied.

Mr Houghton was then himself accused of bullying the clerk and deputy clerk of Tynwald and Tony Wild MLC and engaging in the unwarranted interference in a staffing matter which it was claimed had precipitated the resignation of a senior member of the Clerk of Tynwald’s Office.

Recommending the MHK is required to apologise, the committee concluded: ‘During this investigation this committee has found that Mr Houghton’s challenge of process, legality, authority and indeed personal attack on individuals involved has been extensive and unrelenting.

‘That a committed member of staff has resigned from the Clerk of Tynwald’s Office giving her reasons for leaving as being the effects of the conduct of one member is something which must not be allowed to happen again.’

You can read the report in full {http://www.tynwald.org.im/business/opqp/sittings/Tynwald%2020142016/2016-PP-0073.pdf#page=286|here}

In relation to the allegations of bullying, it found: ‘There is a pattern of repeated, intimidating and malicious behaviour which certainly made one or more of the recipients feel upset and threatened and undermined their self-confidence.’

Clerk Roger Phillips told the committee that the ‘unrelenting and aggressive’ nature of Mr Houghton’s behaviour was ‘unprecedented’ in his 30-year career.

But Mr Houghton told the Manx Independent: ‘This has been revenge instigated by the Speaker because I dared to defend a vulnerable member of staff and I had the gall to make a formal complaint about the clerk and his deputy. I do act properly, I do have integrity.

‘All this evidence is a complete fabrication. If I had acted like the big bad wolf I would have held my hands up to it. This is was an institutional witch-hunt because I dared to stand up to those people.’

He described the investigation as a ‘stitch-up by a kangaroo court’ as he had not been allowed to cross-examine witnesses or call witnesses of his own.

In October 2014 Mr Houghton and Mr Wild MLC had met Clerk of Tynwald Roger Phillips to advise him they had concerns about a member of staff who they had found crying. She alleged she had been bullied by a manager.

Mr Phillips said he would investigate but advised Mr Houghton that there made be complaints made against the staff member concerned for vexatious allegations - even though she herself had not made a formal complaint.

{http://www.iomtoday.co.im/news/isle-of-man-news/mhk-accused-of-being-a-bully-1-7892506|The promotion for the Manx Independent attracted readers’ comments on the issue}

The Douglas North MHK pursued the case despite the Speaker warning him writing that it would be inappropriate for a Tynwald member to have any continued involvement.

Mr Wild, convicted of drink driving last December, said when he stepped back from the matter, Mr Houghton questioned his professionalism and accused him of cowardice.

The MLC said he felt bullied, telling the committee: ‘It is difficult to describe bullying but it is the way an individual looks at you, ignores you.’

The committee, chaired by Douglas East MHK Chris Robertshaw, concluded that the complaints made by Mr Houghton against the clerk and his deputy, Jonathan King, were vexatious.

Mr Houghton denies his actions could be construed as bullying. He said he had to act robustly as ‘sometimes you have to fight fire with fire’.

The staff member who was subsequently made compulsorily redundant and was never allowed to give evidence to the standards committee, told the Manx Independent said she felt she had been forced out of a job she loved: ‘If John had not stood up to protect me no one would.’

Mr Houghton said: ‘They’ve done this to damage my reputation and try to discredit me in front of my constituents. But my constituents know me better. I would do the same thing again.’

Some of the stories that have featured John Houghton in the past:

{http://www.iomtoday.co.im/news/isle-of-man-news/toilet-tax-is-unfair-but-we-must-introduce-it-our-hands-are-tied-1-6421865|John Houghton explains why the toilet tax had to be brought in}

{http://www.iomtoday.co.im/news/isle-of-man-news/houghton-apologises-to-mhks-over-pension-1-7006753|John Houghton was the only Member of Tynwald not paying for his pension. It came to light after an Isle of Man Newspapers investigation.}

{http://www.iomtoday.co.im/news/isle-of-man-news/outrage-in-keys-over-transsexuals-rights-comments-1-1789382|Houghton says transsexuals ‘defy common decency’}

{http://www.iomtoday.co.im/news/isle-of-man-news/john-houghton-mhk-ordered-to-leave-house-of-keys-sitting-1-6946767|The occasion Mr Houghton was ordered out of the Keys}

Tynwald members - and the public - need all the facts before a critical decision can be made on public sector pension reform.

During a House of Keys debate, backbenchers expressed concerns that the proposed reforms are based on overly optimistic assumptions about the growth of government income - and about the level of funding that the taxpayer will be expected to pay to shore up the scheme.

The Keys unanimously backed a motion tabled by Douglas East MHK Chris Robertshaw calling the Council of Ministers to provide more information before changes to the public sector pension schemes are considered by Tynwald.

CoMin postponed reform proposals at last month’s Tynwald sitting pending further deliberations.

Mr Robertshaw told the Keys: ‘It could be said that the taxpayer has been represented by an empty seat in all the private negotiations between the employers and the employees - so it is only right that the main funder should now also be as well informed as possible.’

He said the government was trying to resolve the pensions issue within its ‘own limited bubble’ - without regard to potential impact on government services or as yet unseen external financial pressures.

Mr Robertshaw said members were being asked to make a decision in an ‘act of faith’ based on ‘flimsy evidence’. ‘We can’t decide we are going to spend x, y or z on pensions if we don’t know what the other costs are going to be or even an outline of those costs,’ he said.

Michael MHK Alfred Cannan said it was ‘extremely unfortunate’ that CoMin had chosen to withdraw the Tynwald motion on a debate he said was ‘critical to every man, woman and child living and working on the Isle of Man’.

He said members ‘must know and understand the whole picture’ before accepting any deal. He pointed out that under the proposed reforms the impact on public funds would rise from £44m this year to £100m plus.

‘How is this affordable?’ he asked. ‘We can’t even deal with the black hole at present and yet here we are proposing that we can find an extra £60m in pension revenues in little more than the end of the next parliamentary term. Where is this money coming from? Is it coming from cuts? Where will these be. Charges? Upon who? Increased growth? How much?’

Chris Thomas (Douglas West) likened it to the Emperor’s new clothes. ‘We need to get this right. The truth might shock us, but we need to know,’ he said.

Policy and Reform Minister John Shimmin vowed to provide as much information as possible. But he insisted: ‘This is not a crisis - it’s a really hard challenge we going to have to rise to.’

A number of classic Ford cars drove around the island earlier this week.

The Classic Ford Spring Tour’s vehicles here were pictured outside the Isle of Man Motor Museum in Jurby.

The tour was operated by Scenic Car Tours on behalf of Classic Ford magazine and took place between Saturday and Tuesday. Most of the vehicles were British Fords made at Dagenham or Halewood.

Reader David Williams kindly supplied photographs to us. If you take a photo you’d like to share with our readers, email a large Jpeg to newsdesk@newsiom.co.im

Please include your phone number.

There are two pages of readers’ photos every week in the Manx Independent.

The annual rate of inflation has risen in the Isle of Man.

But according to the Consumer Prices Index, things are still cheaper than they were a year ago.

It means the island is undergoing deflation rather than inflation, at least under that measuring system.

It says the rate of inflation in April was MINUS 0.2 per cent rather than minus 0.6 per cent in March.

However, the Retail Prices Index says that inflation is running at PLUS 3.8 per cent, up from 3.4 per cent in March.

The Retail Prices Index has different weightings and includes mortgage interest payments.

Under the CPI statistics,the price of sea travel has risen by 17.1 per cent; tea by 10.3 per cent; potatoes by 11.3 per cent; lamb by by 8.2 per cent and repairs and maintenance charges by 7 per cent.

That has been offset by reductions in a number of prices, most notably oils and other fuels which are 23 per cent cheaper.

Other reductions include oils and other fats, down by 12 per cent; ‘other travel costs’ by 28.5 per cent; sugars and preserves by 20 per cent.

There will be the opportunity to hear some of the performances that delighted audiences during Guild week at a concert on Wednesday, May 11, at St John’s Methodist Church Hall starting at 7.30pm.

There will be singing and spoken word performers, including Alexandra Slater, winner of the popular standard song and girls solo years nine and 10.

Dot Saunders, winner of the reading in contemporary Manx, John Snelling, winner of the Songs from the Musicals and many more talented competitors.

The winner of the Cleveland Medal 2016, Paul Costain, will round off the evening.

The evening will be compered by Judith Ley and the accompanist for soloists is Gareth Moore.

Admission is £7 including county supper. Pay o n the door.

Members of Tynwald have learned more about the effects of dementia.

Sue Walker, a dementia support worker based in Douglas gave 29 MHKs and MLCs an insight into the challenges facing people affected by dementia and their families.

Problems with short-term memory, which make simple everyday tasks a real challenge; and confusion and perception issues, which can lead to disorientation and frustration were all highlighted during the talk.

‘Simple things, like giving people more time to answer, or introducing people by name can be a real help for people affected by dementia’ said Sue.

‘Even people who should be well-known to the person can be frustratingly difficult for people diagnosed with dementia to put a name to, so giving their name immediately takes this challenge away and helps them to relax. It is simple strategies like this, and a general awareness of dementia, that the presentation seeks to promote.’

Health and Social Care Minister Howard Quayle said: ‘Everyone really enjoyed the presentation and took so much from it. There really were moments when you realised how simple actions could make life so much easier for people affected by dementia.

‘If you get the chance I would recommend everyone to become a Dementia Friend - it only takes an hour and the lessons last a lifetime’.

The same presentation has already been delivered to 1,470 people on the Isle of Man, including the Board of Directors and senior managers at the Department of Health and Social Care, and it is the Alzheimer’s Society’s aim for everyone on the Isle of Man to attend a dementia awareness session.

The Alzheimer’s Society’s wants the Isle of Man to become the world’s first ‘dementia friendly nation’.

Organisations that would like to see the presentation should phone the Alzheimer’s Society on 613181.

A 95-year-old woman who was residing at Beaconsfield Nursing Home died of aspiration pneumonia an inquest has heard.

Glenda Critchley, who was born in Blackburn, Lancashire, was a retired chemist drug dispenser.

She died on December 15 last year at the home at The Close in Jurby Road, Ramsey.

The inquest was opened and adjourned and will resume at a date to be confirmed.

Forget the Isle of Man – the Isle of Woman, complete with a naturist-loving hippy as queen, has been created.

Friday night at the Gaiety Theatre saw a vocal (predominantly female) audience vote on what the perfect island should include and what should be banned, led by three women and a piano.

London Mayor Boris Johnson was quickly dispensed with.

A life-size cardboard cut-out went in the dustbin headfirst, his feet poking out from the corner of the stage.

High heels, clingy evening dress, gossip magazines and text speak were also quickly dispatched.

The audience did vote for some island essentials though, including friends (a no-brainer, surely).

Each of the performers on stage represented a very different kind of woman.

Actress Nicole Faraday (who had her break playing Snowball Merriman in Bad Girls) embraced her role as the ‘hippy non-conformist’, appearing on stage in everything from a giraffe onesie to a tassled top emblazoned with ‘lovesick cowgirl’.

Katherine Mount was a dungaree-wearing, ball-breaking ‘feminist’, singing about how women are fearful of showing emotion at work.

And Amanda Posener (appeared alongside Nicole in Bad Girls the musical as Denny) took on the role of the ‘traditionalist’.

She painted a vivid picture of the struggle women can face in their battle to maintain the image of the perfect wife, family and home.

Accompanying them on the piano was the show’s producer, Teresa Barlow, who almost ended up being crowned queen of the Isle of Woman herself, such was the audience’s appreciation.

The aim of the musical show – which has been touring theatres around the British Isles – was to celebrate womanhood and the audience can have been left in no doubt that was its intention.

I was an enthusiastic audience member, whooping wholeheartedly at each of the audience votes.

And leaving the theatre, I was keen to get home to dig out my Bad Girls box set and arrange a long overdue catch up with some of my best friends. It was just a shame the Gaiety wasn’t filled to the rafters to lift the atmosphere of the undoubtedly feel-good show.

Police are investigating an incident at a private function that happened outside Vagabonds Club House at the Strang in the early hours of Sunday, May 1.

Officers say it is unclear whether any offence was committed. However during an altercation at the main entrance to the building, a woman sustained facial injuries which meant she had to be treated in hospital.

Police want to speak with anyone who may have been in the area at the time and witnessed the incident or saw the woman with visible injuries to her mouth.

Some 924 entries were submitted in the Hall Caine Prize for Creative Writing.

This year’s theme was Echoes.

Read the winning stories in each of the categories below.

Duck Quacks Don’t Echo by key stage 5/ University College Isle of Man winner Charlotte Darbyshire

26th December 1985.

IT’S NOT FAIR. I want a duck. I asked Father Christmas for a duck.

I wrote a very polite letter to him asking for a duck. What did I get? This stupid thing!

What am I supposed to even do with a Dictaphone? I’m 10! I will get a duck. I will. I WILL!

Mum said that I did get a duck because I got a cuddly one. I’ve named her Dianna and we’re going to go on adventures together.

I also got a book with the different breeds of duck in it. Dianna is a Shetland duck; apparently they’re ‘domesticated, dating back to the Vikings’.

I like the idea of bad ducks taking over the world; it’s the sort of thing that could definitely happen in the future.

Alien ducks replacing the Queen – yes, that would be fun.

I also got a chemistry set yesterday; it’s really cool. There are all sorts of chemicals that you can add together to make slime and explosions and other messy stuff. Mum said I couldn’t play with it yesterday because I’d make too much mess.

That wasn’t fair - if she didn’t want me to make mess she should have told Father Christmas not to get it.

I think it was all a cover up and she actually didn’t want me to accidently blow up grandma when we were tucking into our Yorkshires.

I sat through dinner wondering what experiments I could do. I quite fancied trying to turn my sister into something a bit nicer, a rabbit maybe? No! A duck!

Grandma said that if I did that I’d be half way there to getting ducks to take over the world. Maybe she’s right- maybe I’ll be the duck leader.

All hail Donald, King Duck, Ruler of the Universe!

This morning, I decided I’d just make some slime (even though I dreamt of alien ducks). The green stuff went all over the carpet and then the dog ran through it.

Dad just laughed and put a rug over the top. Mum went nuts. I think green complements cream quite well though.

Do you know what my sister said before? We were playing a game where we had to guess if these cards were truth or lies.

Chloe said ‘duck quacks don’t echo’ in her horrible, squeaky voice. Ducks - my area of expertise. I said true; everyone knows that duck quacks don’t echo!

Everyone apart from all of my family and the stupid idiot that wrote the game. Chloe hasn’t stopped teasing me about it since it happened - an urban myth apparently.

I just want her to go away. I will prove that duck quacks don’t echo, and she will have to take it all back!

26th December 1990.

Testing...1-2...1-2...Mum’s not in a good mood so I’m staying out of the way and doing some homework.

Chloe got her school report and it obviously wasn’t as good as mine.

She’s getting shouted at for bad behaviour in class and leaving test papers blank; meanwhile her brother is getting full marks on every exam.

People say I just took to science like a duck to water.

I’ve upgraded my chemistry set into something a bit more substantial at the back of the laboratory at school.

As you well know, I’ve been investigating sound waves so that I can compare them to ducks using the sonic boom mic I made last week.

The experiment was set out perfectly in the lab and my classmates were gathered around ready to watch me make history.

The department had even bought me a duck for the experiment – they said it would ‘help me focus on other subjects’, whatever that means.

I was just about to poke the duck when I slipped and, diving to save the duck, smashed into the break glass point and set off the fire alarm.

As I glided across the floor the duck flew out of my arms, wafting his wings in my face like he’d been ‘tangoed’.

We were ushered out of the school whilst the piercing ding of the alarm echoed around my head. I was in such a flap that I forgot to save any of my equipment.

My conclusion is not yet reliable, as I have no results, but I can confirm that it is still possible that duck quacks don’t echo.

26th December 1995.

Is this thing on? Yes – wonderful. So today I was kicked out of my local hospital.

You might ask why? Well, it all started last week when my lecturer told me that I needed some data to prove my hypothesis; obviously.

What type of scientist scrimps on data? The problem was, and the lecturer knew this, was that my data was slightly unattainable – a thesis on duck genetics is still revolutionary in this day and age.

So I had to show some ingenuity and invent a fool-proof plan to obtain all of the information.

Firstly, I needed a duck. That was simple enough as I kept some in my bathtub.

I needed to select my subject carefully and unfortunately none of my ducks were up to the challenge, so I had to look elsewhere. I nabbed one from the park.

You’re probably wondering how all this ended up with me forcibly removed by some rather cutting nurses.

The answer to this lies within some expensive neurology equipment. And a sizeable amount of duck poo. And a fire engine.

I was attempting to look at the Broca Area of a duck using a series of finely detailed MRI scans.

Unfortunately, the radiographer didn’t like the idea of ‘vermin contamination’ and called immediately for the decontamination team.

The SWAT team turned up in a flap and I panicked – I wasn’t intentionally holding the duck hostage. The duck also panicked, hence the poo.

And the fire engine? That happened about an hour after I had left, when the scanner had overheated due to the pressure I had put it at to collect the data.

Suffice to say that I’ll probably be presented with a hefty bill for the equipment, and maybe a court order, and maybe even a TV interview...

So my findings for the day are unclear but I can conclude that it is still possible that duck quacks do not echo.

26th December 2000.

It’s absolutely inconceivable what occurred to me this morning.

The only thing that would make the day worse would be if this stupid Dictaphone stopped working.

Anyway, I was collecting some secondary data for my PhD by unwinding some duck chromosomes to detect the gene responsible for the quack genotype.

I have previous experience with Restriction Fragment Length Polymorphism so it appeared to be the obvious choice of experiment for the thesis.

For once, there were no disasters emerging from the study and I was on track to finding the answer to the age-old question about duck quacks.

I was just inserting the agarose gel for electrophoresis when all of a sudden the hybridisation process malfunctioned and I was left with a large hole in the laboratory ceiling.

There were several fellow scientists in the laboratory at the time and I was left mortified. Somehow, and I’m still not sure why, the enzymes had exploded and the solution had bubbled out all over the laboratory.

The floor was covered in green, toxic liquid and for once in my life it was too late to hide it.

My reputation hung in the balance. I hung my head in shame and was shocked to see a large hole slowly melting through my shoe. I screamed. I jumped up and down in horror. I fell. I fell into the glass apparatus and knocked it all over.

There was another reaction; then there was a hole in the roof.

It was quite clear that there weren’t any significant discoveries to be made by the end of the day, so I began a search for a man to fix the roof.

I can summarise that this investigation provides evidence that duck quacks might not echo.

26th December 2005.

Radioactive ducks. I think that explains what happened today although I’m sure you’ll want a full explanation.

I’m not quite sure what actually happened myself.

After being largely unsuccessful with the DNA profiling I decided that I needed to take a break and go back to basics.

In a room packed full of famous scientists I knew I needed to prove myself and the toxicity of my minions was a sure fire way to do this.

The experiment was proving successful – I was on the cusp of a scientific revolution!

A round of applause filled the room, people from the telly were patting my back and congratulating me, the world seemed to be a better place.

And then someone shouted ‘DUCK’. I presumed due to the nature of the experiment that they were just so overwhelmed with the success of the investigation that they couldn’t help but chant my lucky subject’s name.

It didn’t occur to me until I was hit in the face by rogue roof tile, that they had in fact all fallen to the floor to avoid the debris released by the overheating flask.

It was a disaster – I nearly even dropped this daft Dictaphone (although that would be a great excuse to buy a new one)!

Once again I ended up in hospital and once again my experiment ended in failure.

Conclusion for the day – duck quacks might echo.

26th December 2010.

Am I recording? That pause button is sticking again!

I was at the end of my tether with all this duck business this morning.

My life had been dedicated to a search for the answer to an argument with my sister. She didn’t even care! Water off a duck’s back, apparently.

I was young and it was her job to tease me. I felt like I had been hit by a ton of bricks when I heard this.

It’s not everyday that you realise your life’s work has been a waste of time. I was furious with myself for getting so carried away.

I decided to lift my mood with a duck joke.

A duck walks into a chemist and asks for some chap stick. When the pharmacist hands it to him, he says ‘put it on my bill’. Ba dum chh... Somehow, it didn’t seem remotely funny any more.

I sat at my desk and began to clear away some equipment, stopping momentarily to appreciate the bin full of paper scraps that were once ideas that could have changed the world.

I was about as happy as a duck in the desert.

Then my nephew asked me why I didn’t take a more traditional approach to my investigation.

At first I was dismissive. My whole life had been dedicated to sophisticated research methods and expensive equipment.

But then, he did have a point. Why hadn’t I put a duck in a cave?

Our arrival at the cave just off the coast of Antrim was overdue.

We had brought twenty of our precious ducks – we had nothing to lose, except maybe my dignity.

My nephew shouted the obligatory “hello” and we both listened as it came back at us.

Then we heard the sound of what seemed like one hundred agitated ducks, their calls bouncing off the walls, enveloping us in a cacophony of quacks.

Finally, I had closure - an answer to one of life’s great questions. My big sister had been right all along.

And the conclusion to my scientific endeavours?

Duck quacks definitely echo and it’s about time I invested in a new Dictaphone.

Hour glass by key stage 4 winner Xifong Christian

I have a glass. The dust held within has never passed to the other side.

Instead it lies impatiently, endlessly shifting between myriad forms, layered impetuous wave upon wave, ripples of collapse pulsing across its face.

Bestial forms rise to roar only to dissipate in a sea of sand, kingdoms and empires grow, latent towers thrusting up towards their heavens, but for an indecisive shake of the hand to push them down.

Its boundaries curve to the contours of my hand, trapping amorphous shapes who cycle through birth, innocence, joy, love, anger, regret and death in just a breathless minute. Yet these limits spawn limitlessness.

Somewhere between the strata, in some lost crevice or waiting at the bottom of an ever-deepening hole, is a kind of magic; it softly whispers promises of boundless freedom.

When the hiss stops and silence reigns, the soft green powders entice with the promise that any moment they touch would just go on forever.

Except it doesn’t, does it? How could some lifeless sand just flip reality?

I have a glass as well, every drop has drained through the hole, and yet time never ceases its sole rhythm - the blades still move, relentlessly slicing time into steady portions.

Last night I had a dream. I looked and every transient star was a face... no a million million faces.

They each sat at the pinnacle of a ladder, rungs stretching beyond measurability into the hazy tendrils of mist far below.

And everywhere abounded in light, great beams of light took flight like graceful birds migrating between sources, unfurling curled wings, feathers of flames tearing away.

One landed upon its starry perch and there it crumbled away, to be replaced by another more urgent kind.

Except this was unique since the source of light had waned and pinched in; it had contorted and twisted but then closed throwing shadows and panicked voices in rising swellings of grief and loss.

Muttering and stammering accompanied the flight of this ensuing bird as it moved from light to light casting a nebulous dark cloud like an expanding ring of gloom, suffocating the world and the gazing faces and the cold stars and the timeworn patterns with impenetrable shade.

More voices; high and low, relief, disbelief or mourning - chattering like a flock of crows.

I saw the stars quieten, their cries passing away into a reverie of memories and ancient songs, for now it was the moment that had been implicit from the very start.

Only the tides of peace crossed the amnesiac shores of my wakefulness.....

That willow, I remember, was greying with age, spiralling arms reaching down desperately to grasp and hold the reflection it had gazed upon all it’s life.

The fragments of our mutual understanding had dropped, sinking to irreversible bottomless depths, for that had been a place where nothing like that should ever have been known.

Invisible movements swept across the lake surface dredging up long-forgotten thoughts and infinitely miniscule muddy connections.

I would find myself there to embrace the ennui of childhood but instead I had found my father.

His eyes were quick-sinking mud, drawing back into itself before I could even reach out and run my hands over its actuality.

In that moment I knew and the air screamed out in my torment, coagulating into clumped bubbles floating away and taking my breath with it.

My brother was going to die and nothing could have changed anything. A strange noise slipped between my father’s lips, a kind of soft oozing gasp which had been torn back just before its departure.

A held back tremor, borne aloft by the wind and then a terrible moment when it was released, hitting the Earth to enslave us to our madness.

Those unflinching reflections, mocking caricatures of our inner life, shattered, exploding the willow tree and the sky into a tumultuous eruption of hanging shards and unfeeling barbs.

I see her there. Her brows furrowed in obeisance to the unknown, eyes wreathed in another world.

By her lies a book: her journal, a portal to another life.

She radiates something like the glass, only more like a sacred shrine to some intangible deity.

Perhaps she also comes from there.

Her presence is made plain by the rushing warmth that envelops those around her and the trembling hands and the quickening pulse.

She is never alone because an army of figures, made of sand, trudge after her, desperate to be acknowledged.

But somehow, whenever they stumble into her sight, they are swept up by the knot that has replaced my chest - a knot which tangles around all my words, pulling them back and rolling them together into meaninglessness; I gasp for the simplest connected thought.

Would it all vanish, the hold over my own world eluding myself, if I but invited her to it?

Or could I transfix the fleeting giant and hold it in my palm for a single moment?

All the broken lines, imperfect moments, all the unexplored recesses and unproven facts, all the missing thoughts and lost time could be fixed or found if she just came to the door.

The world we could inhabit together, watching as the seed of our creation grew - the product of that timer’s withheld magic.

My grasp discovers, even seeks out, the glass and I ponder.

He had been part of my world, his strange scattered mind self-evident in the abstractions and lucid fantasies populating it; his great works were each one a magnum opus, so what he had made stretched on to the horizons, those limits of human invention.

His existence was as disjoint from others as an architect is from an arch, their simple logic rendered absurd next to the grand labyrinths of serpentine thought which he would erect to make sense of a ‘mere’ butterfly; his was full of unseen clarity and beauty, like the lake with the perfect reflection.

What he had built merged intricately with mine.

I see him now. The pale, mottled skin stretched tight across his cheek, it’s every premature wrinkle, a contour of some distant future.

His eyes swell into faltering lights, telling me to protect and treasure his creations, that they would fill the longing and it was all going to be right.

But it can’t be, the universe would twist back in on itself and the ground would fall away, releasing me to drop into oblivion; he is more than just what I can preserve.

If he was gone I would stumble through the world and find nothing but hollowness, not being able to make sense of any of the miracles and the beauty would retract from my hands.

The knot would have gone, taking with it my brother and leaving behind an empty cavity.

I feel the eruption again, the hanging shards ready to swoop down and cut me in a thousand places from the inside, the pressure growing as the air threatens to burst my head.

The glass will make this better, it will heal the scars of life, it’s got to, that’s why I have it, that’s why I found it. Now it must be done.

The dust, sensing the long-awaited motions, passes to the other side, hissing and writhing, softly murmuring its promises.

The moment does pass forever, still falling, it will keep on plunging for eternity and my brother will live on.

There, there, there. Stars blinking out of existence, relinquishing their power one after another - each one a billion voices and faces.

For all they had done, for all they had become, for all that they represented, the last rung of ladders that can be traced back to the mists of time, each mind had stood on the back of the previous, yet there could be no averting the end.

The terms of existence are set, implicit in our creation is our demise.

But then the last drop of sand fell through, landing noiselessly and my brother was gone.

A man lies on his bed, a sheen of miniscule droplets clinging his face - the last of the energy his frame could coalesce.

His skin is a wintry landscape of the past, continuously shifting vales march across the flaky snow, raising their last defiant spears against the inclement sky.

The tensing clenching sinews and rhythmic thrash of life relax, succumbing to the allure of lasting rest.

A diaphanous haze of last words and final thoughts drift translucent, shimmering urgently in swirling patterns of regret only to blur into the thirsting shadows.

Each cell cycles through its last of a seemingly perpetual act; the final shattering bubbles embrace the coldness of the air.

Perhaps she was right, perhaps we do just come into this life and dance a dance, a delicate balancing between movement, force and silence, rippling through this life gathering strength; strength that will renew our waning courage in the face of an inescapable dusk.

The man exhaled for an instant and lay still.

Echo by key stage 3 winner Amy Jade Hawke

What’s happening to me? The darkness is surrounding me like a hug, except it’s so cold.

Why is it so cold? Last thing I remember; I was driving with my son Damien. We were singing along to his favourite song on the radio.

I really didn’t think his match would still be on so late and in the middle of winter.

Although he insisted we go and find out. The roads were so slippery, so dangerous.

I didn’t want Damien to know I was scared, so I kept driving but the inevitable blizzard engulfed us, and the haunting echo of Damien’s terrified shriek was unforgettable.

I knew the match wouldn’t be on but I would do anything for my boy.

My boy! Damien; where is he? Is he alright? Hello?

Why can’t anyone hear me. My name is David Blakemort. I need some help.

Nothing, not even a speckle of light. The darkness isn’t comparable to anything I’ve ever witnessed.

Not even having your eyes plastered shut or the darkest memory you remember, this blackness is the worst.

Help me, please. I don’t know what’s happening to me. Please! My son – Damien, is he alright? Am I alright? Why isn’t anyone answering me?

The silence roaring in my ears is definite. It’s similar to that of a deaf man. I can’t hear my own heart beat or my own breathing!

It’s just me, the darkness and the silence.

What’s that noise? There is definitely a noise there. Is it a voice? What’s it saying?

It sounds like a voice although I can’t hear what its saying! It’s like I’m hearing it through water or multiple layers of fabric. What is it saying?!

The sound has remained neutral for what seems like an eternity now and the thing making my blood run cold is the swirling flame of light about 2ft across from me.

The pin prick has grown and is now the size of a football. Since I have no control of my ligaments, it would be impossible for me to go over to it.

Although there’s now an indescribable motion around me.

I’m not too sure if it’s hurtling towards me or I’m moving towards it.

I’m almost at the edge of the illuminous globe-shape now. The silhouette of three bodies together, clasping each other’s hands are all I can make out from where I am now.

I’ve never felt so hopeless and so dead-limbed. I need to look into the room I seem to be hovering above.

I know I’ve seen it before – it’s inescapable. The room is so familiar although I feel like I’ve never been in it, everything seems so new.

Maybe these people know where my Son is. Maybe they are sat around that table to help him, well it looks like a table at least.

Why can’t I see properly? It feels like my eyes are missing something! What’s happening to me?

I seem to have subconsciously moved closer. Why do they all look so sad? Why are they holding each other’s hands so tightly?

Maybe they know something I don’t and it’s about me ... or my Son!

They all look so sad!

There’s that noise again!

That woman’s talking right there at the head of the table! Although the words are still unrecognisable the movement of the woman’s lips is obvious. She is talking.

‘I summon the echo, the spirit, the life-force that was, Mark Blakemort! Come, shade of Mark Blakemort, be here with us in this room. Your loving family would know of you! Give them a sign that you are well!’

Suddenly I realise what I’m seeing. This is a séance. That women is a Medium.

And those other two people are my family! That’s my wife! And Damien! My son, Damien! He’s alive!

Thank God! But why aren’t I ... oh ... of course. Damien survived. But I didn’t. They’re summoning me. I’m the echo they’re calling.

‘Give your loving family the peace they seek spirit! Let them know you are well and happy and everything is good,’ intoned the old woman.

Well? Happy? Good? NO! None of that is true! None of it! This is a horrible place. I’m cold and alone! I hate it here! I’m so scared! There’s nothing but the endless, empty darkness and the crushing, oppressive silence!

The awful, never-ending, coldness! The loneliness! The eternal, haunting emptiness! I’m screaming the words at them but I can’t hear myself.

‘I can hear him!’ the woman is saying. ‘He has a message for you. I can hear his voice! He says ... Mark says ... he wants you to know ... that he is ... happy. So very happy. And at peace.’

NOOO! That’s not what I said! I’m NOT happy here! You can’t really hear me can you?

You’re a fake! A charlatan! That’s not what I said ... No! They’re leaving now. The woman has said the spirit has left us so they’re leaving me. They’ve gone into another room and I’m alone with this stupid old woman who’s cheated my family!

The old woman looked up at the ceiling. Directly at Mark Blakemort.

‘No Mark, I’m not a fake. I heard every word you said. I can see you and hear you even now.

‘But really Mark, do you want your family to know what the Afterlife is really like? They need to live on Mark. And not be afraid of death. If you knew what it was like when you die would that have made you feel better?

‘So we lie to the living so they can get through life. We all do it Mark. What choice do we have? We can’t tell them the truth. I’m sorry.’

The woman blew out one of the three candles and the opening to her world shrank.

She continued talking, ‘I know you’re scared. I know you’re alone. In the darkness. And the cold. I will talk with you when I can Mark.’

She blew out another candle and the hole got smaller, it was barely visible at all now.

‘But you have to face the facts Mark. This is your existence now. Cold, empty, eternal blackness. I’m sorry ...’ pffft.

And then there was nothing. Just the echoing emptiness of eternity. Forever.

Echoes from the Baie ‘n Ooig by primary winner Scarlett Christopher-Everett

Sharp and glass-like, the sand bit my aching feet like a shoal of hungry, piranha fish.

I sprinted towards my friends; Katie, an odd girl with chocolate brown eyes, and Steve with masses of spiral ginger hair, all wet as he climbed out of the salty, foaming sea.

I gazed hypnotically across at the bright fairy lights which spanned the distance across Port Erin bay.

The rolling purple fog emerged from behind the hills above like a pair of velvet curtains closing for the evening.

Our golden plan was to sneak surreptitiously this special Hop-tun-nae night to the arcane beach caves and investigate the unaccountable, echoing noises that screamed through the walls as the roaring waves licked the beach and rock pools hungrily.

Some Manx old folk created gossip and wild rumours about the strange, high pitch wails being singing Manx fairies imprisoned in the watery tomb, or Tarooh Ushtey, the water bull who lived below the muddy waters.

This particular night, we shuffled to the dark, shadowy caves.

I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare, it was spooky, creepy and terrifying as we crept... silently... in the blackness until we stumbled across a secret door. We opened it slowly ... and suddenly we were blinded by gleaming, golden coins and a mountain of treasure!

Then we heard hissing echoes coming from the other caverns, as the salty sea lapped against the rocks.

Maybe the tinny whispers were the wispy fairies singing sweet hymns to their mistress Queen.

Or maybe the sounds were the greedy waves lapping against the rocky caves, swishing and swirling.

Suddenly, Steve screamed in terror.

‘Be quiet,’ said Katie ‘We don’t know what could happen. I thought that fairies didn’t exist in the real world’.

Again, I heard a sharp banging, smashing noise like a glass shattering against a solid, wooden wall. What happened?

Was it an angry fairy trying to tell Katie that they did exist? Or was the smashing noise the angry river bull trying to escape the darkest, watery cave which imprisoned him.

I started to limp across the rocks, feeling tired and weary. Then we heard Katie’s mum calling her in the distance.

So off she ran, leaving Steve and I behind to solve this incredible mystery.

I spotted a bright light, and a rainbow of fireworks exploded -pink, purple and green.

Suddenly we saw a pair of massive feet. Steve peered up and saw a huge fairy with golden hair and a gathering of little fairies surrounding the Queen fairy, all singing beautiful melodies, just like I thought.

So this was the mystery of the hollowing echoes that had plagued Port Erin’s abandoned coastal caves for years.

As I stumbled away, I thought to myself ... one day, when I am much older, I will be a famous Manx author and write a story about my childhood adventure on Port Erin beach.

A 54-year-old man from Ballaugh who fraudulently claimed a total of more than £30,000 in overpaid benefits has had his case adjourned for sentencing.

Richard Needham, of The Curraghs, admitted seven charges relating to offences between April 2012 and February 2015.

Barry Swain, for the prosecution, said: ‘The facts really speak for themselves.

‘He did not consider his actions to be dishonest from the outset, but matters progressed and the dishonesty became evident.’

Mr Swain told the court the total overpayment was £34,170 but the prosecution was willing to accept that the claim was not fraudulent from the start.

Of the total, £18,900 was Jobseekers’ Allowance, £8,900 was Income Support and £6,250 was Incapacity Benefit.

Defending Needham, Stephen Wood said his client had been suffering from mental health problems at the time and it was hard to say precisely when the claim ceased to be legitimate and became fraudulent.

Needham was bailed to his home address on a £500 recognisance. Sentencing is on June 16.