Douglas William Sheal was initiated into Lodge St. Olaf on 4th November 1982, during a period when many young men were relocating to the North East of Scotland in search of employment opportunities in Aberdeen’s expanding energy industry. Having settled in the coastal village of Cruden Bay, Doug soon found both friendship and fellowship within the Lodge, beginning a remarkable Masonic journey that would span more than four decades. He is understandably proud of the fact that he is the third longest serving brother in regular attendance after Bro. Bill Murray P.M., and Bro. Gordon Mackay P.M..
From his earliest years as a member, Doug became deeply involved in the social and charitable activities that formed such an important part of Lodge life. He was one of the four brethren who undertook the Lodge’s sponsored walk along the West Highland Way, demonstrating the enthusiasm and camaraderie that would become hallmarks of his contribution to the Craft. He was also a central figure in the Lodge’s participation in the famous Ythan Raft Races, taking part in nine of the ten races contested by the Lodge between 1986 and 1995, Doug is always eager to explain his absence from the 10th Raft Race by stating ‘ that he was press-ganged into skippering another raft, entered by his employer – Salamis, after they had realised belatedly what a great event that the Ythan Raft Race was, and that Doug’s expertise and experience would be vital during their maiden voyage’. These were all events fondly remembered by many members for their spirit of teamwork, humour, and community involvement.
Doug additionally participated in numerous Lodge sabbaticals and fundraising activities over the years, including the sponsored walk of the Speyside Way in 1989. Whether representing the Lodge in public events or supporting its charitable endeavours behind the scenes, he consistently demonstrated unwavering commitment and dedication to the brethren of St. Olaf.
Doug was part of a small delegation of four hardy brethren (Jim Conner, Jim Gardiner also from Lodge St. Olaf, and Paul Geddes from the Lodge of Stonehaven) who represented the Lodge proudly under the ‘St. Olaf’ branded Saltire for a Ireland v Scotland football match in Dublin in 2000 (picured below).
Yet Doug’s greatest and most enduring contribution to Lodge St. Olaf undoubtedly lies in his extraordinary tenure as Lodge Treasurer — an office he held continuously for more than thirty years. Few positions within Freemasonry demand such diligence, patience, organisation, and personal sacrifice, and Doug fulfilled these responsibilities with distinction and quiet professionalism throughout his long service.
In recognition of this exceptional commitment, he was awarded the prestigious Lodge St. Olaf Jewel — the Lodge’s own Distinguished Service Medal — a fitting tribute to decades of loyal and devoted service. His dedication was further acknowledged in 2024, when he received honours from the Grand Lodge of Scotland to mark the thirtieth anniversary of his appointment as Lodge Treasurer.
Doug’s contribution to the Lodge extended far beyond administrative duty. His knowledge, reliability, and calm guidance provided continuity and stability through generations of office-bearers and members alike. Such was the esteem in which he was held that he was nominated on several occasions to serve as Right Worshipful Master. However, in characteristic fashion, Doug respectfully declined these nominations, choosing instead to continue serving the Lodge in the role where he believed he could contribute most effectively.
Nevertheless, he has recently taken to “keeping the chair warm” when the Right Worshipful Master is occupied attending to floorwork during degree ceremonies. On each occasion, Doug carried out these duties with dignity, composure, and good humour, giving the brethren a taste of what might have been, undoubtedly, he is the Best Right Worshipful Master the Lodge never had.
The following account records the first of these memorable occasions and was considered worthy of preservation within The Chronicles of Lodge St. Olaf 1188.
Thursday 27th November 2025
In the waning days of the year, upon the Twenty-Seventh of November in the Year Two Thousand and Twenty-Five, a night of quiet wonder came to pass in the hallowed hall of Lodge St. Olaf 1188. Long shall it be spoken of by those who stood witness—whispered over candlelight, recounted with laughter in the feast hall, and treasured in the deep places of memory where tales of comradeship dwell.
A First Degree was being wrought for Brother Rick Knevett, a man newly come to the path of Light. The ceremony moved with ancient cadence, the words and symbols unfolding like a tapestry woven by steady hands. Soon a key portion of the solemn working was to be delivered personally by The Right Worshipful Master, Daly the Worshipful, whose stout heart and storied presence were well known to all.
In such moments, when the Master must depart the East, it is the custom that his throne—the Chair of King Solomon, which must never stand empty—be taken by one prepared for its gravity. Usually it is the Immediate Past Master or the Depute Master who rises to answer this call.
But on this night, something most unexpected occurred.
For reasons beyond guess or lore, the duty passed instead to Brother Douglas Sheal, the Lodge Treasurer—known among the brethren as the finest Mason never to have worn the mantle of Right Worshipful Master. In forty years of steadfast service he had never once sat in that storied chair. Yet on this night, as though summoned by fate itself, he ascended the dais and took the East.
And lo—his first command, uttered with boldness that set the rafters ringing, shall live longer in memory than many a king’s decree.
Instead of the dignified, time-honoured call of “Be seated, Brethren,” Brother Sheal invited the company “to park their bums.”
A ripple of mirth swept the Lodge, swelling into hearty laughter and good-natured revelry. The stones themselves seemed to warm, as though they, too, shared in the delight. For in that moment the Lodge was bound together not merely in ritual, but in joy.
Though never installed as Master, Brother Sheal bore the authority of the East with a quiet assurance—much like a hobbit unexpectedly entrusted with a noble charge, yet proving himself equal to the task in heart and in bearing. Respect flowed to him as naturally as a river to the sea.
When the ceremony was done and the night grew softer, he was commended warmly for the ease and comfort that radiated from him as he presided. To this he replied with a grin that could have lit the beacons of Minas Tirith:
“It was the best thirteen and a half minutes of my life.”
So say all who heard, and so it is remembered.
Those who shared that night will hold it always – a brief turning of the world when the ordinary became the legendary. And though each man there knew the moment might remain a solitary gem, yet in the secret places of their hearts, they hoped otherwise.
For who can say? The day may yet come – in some future age, beneath the glow of familiar lamps – when Brother Douglas Sheal shall again take the Chair of King Solomon, and the Lodge shall once more be filled with laughter, wonder, and the spirit of brotherhood that outshines all jewels of office.
Thus ends the tale of the Thirteen-and-a-Half Minutes in the East – a small moment, perhaps, but as bright as any star set in the songs of old.