Shetland Sojourn 2018: Part 4

Contrary to what I said in Part 2 of this series (here), the Whalsay ferry was not the one with a problem as we were trying tog et to Fetlar, more of which in a later post. Today, the actual Whalsay ferry performed brilliantly as we went to that island, previously unvisited by us, for the day. And, yet again, the weather was kind and A grand day was had by all.

The moon the previous night was, if not blood red, definitely pink. Try as I might, I could not get a faithful reproduction of its colour but this one will give you the gist of what it looked like.

On the ferry from Laxo to Symbister on Whalsay and this is the one going in the opposite direction. Each crossing takes around 30 minutes and they are scheduled to run approximately every 45 minutes or so. Turn up 5 minutes before they go and, if there's space, you'll get on. And, guess what? those over a certain age get tickets that are very generously discounted. IF I remember correctly, the fare for a car and five passengers was £13 return. Bargain.

Whalsay is off the east coast of Mainland Shetland and is roughly 5 x 2 miles. Its main industries are fishing and crofting and its population is just over a thousand people. For hundreds of years the local salt fish trade was in the hands of German merchants of the Hanseatic League. Ships from Hamburg, Bremen and Lubeck sailed to Shetland, particularly Symbister in Whalsay, every summer, bringing seeds, cloth, iron tools, salt, spirits, luxury goods and hard currency. Generations of the same families made the voyage and some merchants are buried in the islands. But it all came to an end when the Germans were forced out by import duties after the 1707 Treaty of Union between England and Scotland. Problems with Europe and import duties, eh? Doesn't that have a modern echo!

Once on the island we headed in a northerly direction (in fact, the only direction as there is but one decent road). In many places we came across these stone circular structures, not always by a loch - they seemed to be everywhere. We wondered if they were animal pens but found out that they were called 'crubs' locally and 'planticrubs' elsewhere on Shetland. They were, if you like, stone cloches to help raise plants by protecting them from the elements, prior to them being transplanted to their final quarters. How old are they? Something like this has been around for centuries. Sometimes they are covered in nets to keep birds away. To come completely up-to-date, what we call poly-tunnels down south are called poly-crubs on the islands.

Whalsay Golf Club and, as the sign says, it's Britain's most northerly golf club. An incredibly friendly and obliging member allowed us to use their toilets and kitchen facilities, even though the clubhouse was closed. I had an interesting chat to their part-time green keeper who had moved north from Cornwall a few years ago. He obviously loved the relaxed way of life up here and was glad to get away from the hordes of tourists that swarm over his home county during the summertime.

From the Golf Club car park, we did a 5-ish mile walk around Sponger Point and Skaw Tang. A classic sea shore walk with a few cliffs on the eastern side. In essence, we walked around the edge of the golf course. I think if I were a golfer playing here, I would find the views very distracting. But that may be a useful excuse for ineptitude!

The bay of Peat Geo, with a raft of gulls. At least three variants: Black Backed, Common and Herring.

The channel between Whalsay and the small island of Inner Holm of Skaw looks like it has some treacherous currents. A golfing hazard?

Typical of the scenery we encountered on our walk. Here's a thing that puzzled me as we went around. I know that golf courses have 'out of bounds' markers but is it really necessary to put markers next to the cliffs? Aren't they obviously out of bounds to all but the most adventurous (or foolhardy) golfers. And another thing: we wondered how many balls were lost because of the prevailing winds.

Given the frequency of flights to Whalsay - one every now and again - walking up the centre of the landing strip posed absolutely no hazard.

Lots of Turnstones around, showing their breeding plumage, although they only breed in the Arctic and are migratory in most parts of the UK. They are also known as Ruddy Turnstones because of their reddy-brown colouration.

On our way back to the ferry, two of us walked up to the highest point on Whalsay, Ward of Clett.

At the top we came across Trig Point 10523. Not your standard Hotine pillar but a Vanessa - a circular design seen in some sites in Scotland and Northern England. The standard pillar took about a ton of material to build and the Vanessa was introduced for the more inaccessible places in order to lessen the burden for the builders. 'Vanessa' is thought to be a corruption of 'Venesta', the firm that made the cardboard formers that were used. Venesa was chosen because they were manufacturers of toilet rolls, in a way the mini-version of the Vanessa.

Near the trig point were some long-abandoned military buildings (telecommunications of some sort. Why, oh, why can't the military clear up after they've left a place?). On the floor of one was this rather impressive piece of graffiti, although the term may be denigrating the effort that went into drawing it. It crossed my mind that it may be ritualistic in some way.

The Whooper Swan is a large white swan, bigger than the Mute Swans we see down south. It has a long thin neck, black legs and its black bill has a large triangular patch of yellow on it. It is mainly a winter visitor to the UK from Iceland, although a few pairs nest in the north.

Looking back to Symbister on our return journey. Like many such communities in Shetland, it was rather spread out. That large boat is one of the fishing fleet that still works out of the hardour.

Will ye no come back again? Maybe, one day. Look out for me.

Shetland Sojourn 2018: Part 3

Another day of good weather and we decided to take the boat trip to the nearby island of Mousa. There are three reasons why this is a good place to go: firstly, it has the best preserved broch in Scotland, secondly, it is a good site for various birds; and, thirdly, it's a very pleasant place to stroll around.

Mousa is a small island just off the east coast of Mainland. Here's an interesting fact I learnt from somewhere: apparently the Vikings termed anything they could circumnavigate an island, even if they had to drag a boat overland for part of it. Hence Mousa was considered to be two islands - the North Isle and the South Isle. Mousa (“Mossy Island” in Old Norse) today is an RSPB Nature Reserve with important breeding colonies of seals and seabirds including the diminutive storm petrel, hundreds of which have made their home within the walls of the broch and even in the dry stonewalls that criss-cross the island.

As we waited for the ferry, we took a stroll along the coastal path, passed the 16th Century Sand Lodge, and came across a stone seat with this plaque attached. The least I can do is to show you Alan Slater's favourite view. And what a fine view it is, too, looking as it does towards our island destination.

And here comes the Mousa Boat, the Solan IV, to take us on the 20 minute crossing to the island.

Hee, hee, hee. Did you see the woolly hat that chap Parsons is wearing? He thinks it makes him look a rugged outdoors type. He's wrong. £3 from Tescos? He was robbed. Shall we go and crap on it?

Broch of Mousa (or Mousa Broch) is said to be the finest preserved example of an Iron Age broch or round tower. It is the tallest broch still standing and amongst the best-preserved prehistoric buildings in Europe. It is thought to have been constructed c. 100 BC.

It's about 50 foot high and has a single entrance. Because of its islaoted position it is thought to be relatively free from the ravages of time and those who thought it would be a good idea to use its stones for various building projects. It was thought to be used for a mixture of domestic and defensive purposes.

I've been to Mousa and my admiration for the skills of its builders increases with each visit. No mortar, just the skillful placement of local stones to make a structure that has withstood the vagaries of the Shetland weather for over 2000 years.

The thick walls contain a central passage that gives access not just to the roof but also a number of side-compartments, some used for storage and some used as living quarters.

From the top of the broch looking southwards with Sumburgh Head on the far horizon, probably some 20 miles away.

A pair of Eider Ducks. If you don't already know, guess which is the male.

A Great Skua, known as the 'Pirate of the Seas' because of its aggression. Getting too close to their territory generally results in a swooping attack on the unwary. This one was photographed at a suitable distance with a zoom lens because I had no wish to be pecked and I'm a great believer in self-preservation.

And this is the same bird in flight. They don't have many friends as they seem to spread panic wherever they go. Which is not surprising as they like nothing more than to snack on a tasty egg or, even better, a nice fresh chick. They really are nasty birds but are very adept at what they do.

A Shag drying its wings after what was, no doubt, a refreshing dip. How can I tell its a Shag and not a Cormorant? Amongst other things, the shape and colour of the base of its beak.

The day was completed with another trip to Sumburgh Head to see if the Puffins were still around. Hardly any on view this time so here's a shot from our previous visit. Actually, I think this is amongst the best of my Puffin shots so far. And it's in focus, Dai Phillips, it's in focus.

 

Shetland Sojourn 2018: Part 2

The original plan was to spend the day on Whalsay, one of the islands we have yet to visit. Things didn't quite go to plan. Read on....

A relatively early morning dash to the ferry port for Whalsay, Laxo, was to no avail. When we got there, we were greeted with the news that the ferry wasn't running due to an electrical problem. A mechanic was on the way but there was no guarantee of a reasonably prompt departure. As there was absolutely nothing at Laxo apart from the landing pier, we turned to Plan B.

Plan B was a circular walk along the Northmavine coast from Eshaness lighthouse. It was around 5 miles, there and back in rather nice weather as the photographs below will show.

The dramatic coastline looking northwards from the lighthouse. The next landfall from this spot would be Greenland, which is not visible even through the conditions were very clear.

In this part of the world, indentations/inlets are known as 'geos'. This is one of the largest/deepest - Calder's Geo. Lots of nesting Fulmars here but, to be honest, there seemed to be nesting Fulmars on every cliff we visited.

Another cliffscape. This time looking back down the coast towards the lighthouse. Look at the blue sky!

We did this walk the last time we visited Shetland (in 2013). Then, the weather conditions were different, with waves crashing over the cliffs in the distance.

Mrs P x 2 and Mrs S, looking out to sea or were they facing inland? I really can't remember.

Some rubbish on the beach. There were a lot of single shoes/boots so I assume they don't travel in pairs. Sadly, most of the junk was plastic in one form or another. Who can say we don't have a problem if a place as remote as this is contaminated? Lessen your plastic waste, folks, and help save the planet. It really is a matter of urgency.

These are 3 'horizontal mills' which were powered by the outlet from the nearby loch. The water was diverted in culvert to the first mill, drove the wheel and then flowed onto the next and the next. The horizontal mills were a step up from the old-fashioned quern and were used for grinding oats and barley (bere) on a relatively small scale. The wooden paddle wheel was connected to the millstones on the floor above by an iron rod and did not required any gearing, which came with the advent of vertical wheels. These horizontal mills were also known as 'clack' or 'Norse' mills and were thought to have been built by local crofters, perhaps by several families, from local materials. One factor in their demise is thought to be the establishment of larger mills by the laird or landowner, coupled by 'encouragement' to pay to use them.

This is a view of the Bronze Age broch on the Loch of Houlland. It is joined to the 'mainland' by a causeway and can be seen above a line of the ruins of what must have been a fairly sizable settlement. According to local legend, the fairies are said to make music here at midday. Sadly we got there at around 2 pm so are not is a position to attest to the truth or otherwise of this.

Close to Eshaness is the Cross Kirk graveyard and this rather intriguing plaque that duplicates the faded inscription on the grave below. It tells the tale of Donald Robertson, who became famous for being unfortunate. He died because Laurence Tulloch, a pharmacist in Sullom, gave him Salpeter (used as fertiliser and for making fireworks) instead of Epsom salt, a natural remedy for all kinds of ailments. Donald Robertson suffered a painful death because his blood was no more able to carry the oxygen his body needed.In a trial in Lerwick, Tulloch was accused of culpable homicide. He was found guilty but the jury appealed to the sheriff. They thought it was nothing but a terrible accident. Tulloch was incarcerated for a few days and walked scotfree. He and his family, his wife Agnes and his two daughters, left Shetland after a while. He must have felt unable to live in that small community any longer. Did people ostracize him for his “error”? Or did they believe worse? Did some think he had done it on purpose?
Officially it remains a tragic accident and the stone in the graveyard won’t reveal more. But the graveyard gives you all the space you need to ponder on the fate of Donald Robertson.

Of the many geese that pass through Shetland as they migrate, the only type we saw was the largest, the Greylag Goose. Their honking skeins flew over our chalet every night and morning

The Lapwing is also known as the Green Plover. This shot clearly shows why. It's also known as a Peewit, which is a not-too-bad rendition of its call.

A Whimbrel,  rather like a small Curlew. A rare migrant in southern parts but resident on the islands. We were to see quite a few during our stay but I don't think I got a particulary photograph of any of them. Its name is thought to derive from its call but that connection completely escapes me.

A solitary fishing boat heading out to sea from Scalloway with the evening sun lighting up the houses in the background. Once upon a time, Scalloway was the capitol of Shetland.

The view from our lounge, with the island of Bressay in the background and an oil tanker in the foreground. There was a minimum of two moored up in pretty much the same place for the duration of our stay. We assumed that they were waiting for a berth in Lerwick before moving in. An eyesore in daylight hours but marginally more acceptable when they were lit up at night.

 

Shetland Sojourn 2018: Part 1

All of the posts on this trip are written in retrospect.  As it turned out, time seemed to fly and blogging proved to be elusive.

We are back in Shetland for a week in a rather nice rental property overlooking Oraquoy Bay on the east side of mainland, the largest island. We were last on the islands at around the same time of year in 2013. No doubt we'll be visiting some of the same sites this time around but the longer stay will enable us to see a few more.

Day 1 was spent travelling up (home to Bristol to Aberdeen to Sumburgh) but we did find time at the end of the day to go into Lerwick, the 'capitol' of Shetland, for a walk around before getting a fish supper.

Day 2 was a busy one: an abortive walk on St Ninian's island (rain, rain, rain), bird watching and coffee drinking at the RSPB reserve on Sumburgh Head, a visit to the Jarlshof settlement (4000 years of occupation) and then a successful revisit to St Ninian's island for a circumperambulation. A great way to spend a day and, apart from the rainy spell in the morning, the weather was very much in our favour. It was hot even.

Parts of Lerwick leading down to the harbour were very steep but not all had such elaborate iron work to help pedestrians. Much nicer than a plain old hand rail, methinks. If I'd had the time, I would have taken great pleasure in walking up one side and down the other to give both hands a chance to experience the feel of cold metal against skin.

From the pier, looking back into Lerwick Old Town. No Jimmy Perez or Tosh is sight. Perhaps they were off catching baddies somewhere else.

One of my infrequent excursions into the monochrome mode of my camera. The skeletal structure of this seed head just stood out on the cliff in front of where we were staying.

We were to see this Common Seal almost every day of our stay. But we never saw much more of its head than this.

Common Guillemots on the cliffs at Sumburgh Head. They are certainly not a bird that dislikes crowds. I'm just reading a book on the origin of bird names and the book tells me that Guillemot is derived from the French form of the name William - Guillaume. Why? Was there a Guillaume who looked like a Guillemot? The mind boggles.

The Puffins were back but not in any great numbers. Just a few really - the advance group to check things out and organise a welcoming party for the rest of them.

Whatever their numbers, they are always a delight to see. A true seabird, living at sea for many months of the year and just coming ashore to breed. Their entire lives are spent on the sea or facing the sea. There is absolutely nothing for them to venture landwards for.

Puffin as sentinel, scouring the horizon for his mates.

I do love a nice trig point, I do. This one on Sumburgh Head, just behind the lighthouse, was an easy visit. As the flush plate shows, its reference number is 10543. A common Hotine pillar design which was completed on 6th August 1959, How's that for a piece of useless information? There's more to come.

Just down from Sunburgh, on the coast is the prehistoric and Norse settlement of Jarlshof. Occupied for over 4000 years, it's probably the most famous of the archeological sites on Shetland. These are some of the ring houses that can be seen there.

Some other ring houses with the ruins of the 'castle', a fortified manor house, in the background.

A good site to wander around and soak up the atmosphere. I don't think I've seen so many quern stones in one place. They obviously spent a lot of time grinding stuff for flour. Or maybe they were crushing spices for their curries? Jarlshof/Jahlfrezi - is there a connection? Those Vikings got everywhere in their longboats.

Some more querns. A little imagination and you can picture the effort that went into using these.

From Jarlshof, looking southwards back towards Sumburgh Head with its lighthouse on top.

An afternoon walk in the sun (and wind) around St Ninian's Island. Just under 5 miles with easy directions - just keep the sea to your left and don't fall off the cliffs.

Looking over some skerries towards Sumburgh Head in the distance.

The coast guard helicopter hovering above us. A very noisy intrusion into the tranquility of our surroundings but they do a worthwhile job so there's no room to complain.

Hovering of a different kind - a Fulmar riding the updraught from the cliffs. An anthropomorphic digression: we (Mrs P and myself) often wonder if birds actually get some sort of aesthetic pleasure from being able to fly. Do they enjoy the freedom they have? Or is it something they just do without thought?

Joy of joys. The trig point on the island is the closest to a cliff of all the ones I've/we've visited. Spectacular posiiton for S9542 Pillar which was completed on 27th July 1959 and cost £39.9s.5d. What was that I was saying earlier about useless information?

Three Fulmars enjoing the sun and having a natter.

St Ninian's Island is joined to the mainland by a narrow strip of sand which, under certain tidal conditions, does get submerged. This geographical feature is termed a tombolo - defined as a narrow strip joining an island to another island or an island to the mainland. Walking across at high tide must feel a little lie Moses parting the waves.

Ringed Plover. A resident wader in most of the UK but more likely to be a winter visitor in Cornwall. We were to see lots of them during our stay but not one of them was kind enough to stay still long enough for a good photograph.

Common Eider Duck, a true sea-going duck that rarely ventures from the sea. Breeds in northern regions but is occasionally seen in Cornwall in the winter. The male is the flashier of the two.

Another venture into monochrome. I think it gives this shot (unposed) more atmosphere.