Tom Patey on tape

Tom Patey was born in 1932 in the village of Ellon, near Aberdeen, on the east coast of Scotland, to an Episcopalian minister father and church-organist mother. Patey was an avid climber early on, and at the age of 18 he made a first ascent on Lochnagar, a tall cliff behind Queen Elizabeth’s holiday home at Balmoral. He went on to study medicine at the University of Aberdeen, where he began making more assiduous forays into the highlands.

Though Patey was a rock climber of limited abilities, he excelled on the mixed terrain of the Scottish highlands in the winter. His fiery determination and unquenchable curiosity led him to make regular first ascents, such as Mitre Ridge, The Scorpion and Douglas-Gibson Gully (Scotland’s first grade V—sustained ice to 80 degrees), whenever his studies allowed.

“He would be in the hospital working all night and then go climbing the next day,” says Bill Brooker, who studied with Patey and was later the best man at his wedding. “He had tremendous endurance.”

Brooker remembers doing the first winter ascent of Eagle Ridge in Lochnagar, in 1953, with Patey and Mike Taylor. The trio astounded their peers by completing the traverse in just over four hours in hobnail boots—to this day an impressive feat for what is still seen as a long day’s climb at grade V. Their climb remains a classic Scottish winter route.

“Tom seized the lead,” says Brooker. “He was very good at that, he made sure he got the lead. He was usually the first to get there because he was fast on the approach. You would find you’d get there and all that was waiting for you was this coil of rope and he was on the other end.”

Located on Britain’s biggest mountain, Ben Nevis, Zero Gulley was one of the most coveted prizes in post-war Scottish climbing, containing 1,000 feet of steep, exposed ice that had outwitted repeated attempts. Even today, one Internet description of the route states that aspirants need “a full rack. 8 to 10 ice screws. Don’t trust some guys who tell you to carry less.” This year marks the 50th anniversary of Patey’s ascent of Zero Gulley with Hamish MacInnes, a member of Glasgow’s famous Creag Dhu club. In an era when gear was still extremely basic—ice screws and full harnesses were unheard of, and crampons were still viewed with suspicion—MacInnes valued Patey’s instinctive ability for route finding and seeing a line on a cliff. Given the smallness of the Scottish mountaineering community in the 1950s, it was inevitable that Patey’s exploits would make waves.

Tom’s own satirical songs published in One Man’s Mountains are subtly delightful, especially his 'Alpine Club Song'.

Our climbing leaders are no fools,
They went to the very best Public Schools,
You’ll never go wrong with Everest Men,
So we select them again and again,
Again and again and again and again.
You won't go wrong with Everest Men,
They went to the very best Public Schools,
They play the game, they know the rules.

Listen to the “ Hamish MacInnes’s Mountain Patrol” song.

Gillies and shepherds are shouting Bravo,
For Hamish Maclnnes, the Pride of Glencoe.
There'll be no mercy mission no marathon slog,
Just lift your receiver and ask them for DOG.
They come from their Kennels to answer the call,
Cool, calm and courageous the Canine Patrol.
Sniffing the boulders and scratching the snow,
They've left their mark on each crag in the Coe.

On 8-9 July 1967, 15 million people watched one of the most audacious BBC outside broadcasts ever undertaken - the climbing of the 'Old Man of Hoy'. A team of six climbers was filmed ascending a spectacular 450-foot sea stack off the Orcadian island of Hoy in a live broadcast that has been likened to an early example of what we now know as 'reality television'. The programme featured three pairs of climbers: Bonington and Patey repeated their original route, whilst two new lines were climbed, by Joe Brown and Ian McNaught-Davis, and by Pete Crew and Dougal Haston.

As academic Paul Gilchrist has described the groundbreaking event: "It connected an armchair audience with the elite of a sport subculture intent on conquering one of Britain's most spectacular geological treasures".

The leading Scottish climber and Ullapool GP Tom Patey had originally approached the BBC with the idea, and convinced them that the photogenic sea stack would make for compelling television. The BBC, taking a huge risk --decided to commission an unprecedented adventure -- for climbers, viewers and broadcasters alike. The producer, the highly experienced outside broadcast specialist Alan Chivers, was certainly nervous, admitting publicly that the whole idea represented a "bigger headache than anything I've done before". It was certainly one of the hardest things ever attempted by BBC engineers. Sixteen tons of equipment were ferried 450 miles from the Firth of Clyde to Hoy in army landing craft. The last three miles of ground to the cliff edge overlooking the Old Man comprised trackless blanket bogs that had to be traversed. The solution -- back in those innocent, environmentally unaware 1960s - was to pile all the equipment on giant sledges and drag it over the fragile terrain -- something unthinkable today, especially as it has left traces visible to this very day. The broadcast, regrettably, was thus ground-breaking in more ways than one.

Nevertheless, the result was a televisual triumph, remembered even by many non-climbers to this day. The spectacular shots, combined with the tension, and the natural chemistry between the climbers (equipped with new-fangled radio microphones) proved irresistible viewing. The 'performers' (comprising the crème de la crème of British climbing such as Patey himself, Dougal Haston (soon to find greater fame as the one of the first Brits to top Everest), climber-broadcaster Ian MacNaught-Davis, top rock climbers Pete Crew and Rusty Baillie - plus the inevitable Chris Bonington) put on a cliff-hanging show on the bird-infested, brittle sandstone of Orkney that captured the imagination of a largely sofa-bound Britain.