Well, here we are anchored in Hamar Voe next to the Ura Firth in the Shetland Isles. Fortunately there are many "Hamar Voes" (safe harbour in Old Norse) in the Shetlands and Orkneys as a gale is continuing to rage around us for the second day in a row. It's quite safe here as the name suggests, however we don't really want to leave the boat for any time. It's a strange feeling to put your faith in a metal chain attached to the seabed by a heavy hook about 35m away, but so far it seems to be working. In the meantime we have been reading and eating quite a lot. Our day is punctuated by the weather forecast broadcast by the coastguard every four hours and we were kind of hoping he would play us some nice music or tell us a joke rather than give us the bad news again. There is very little around here, the closest "civilisation" is a vegetarian restaurant five miles away, if you can call that civilisation. Anyway what on earth is such a restaurant doing here, I haven't seen an allotment since we arrived, however meat and seafood are in abundance. There is reportedly a seal sanctuary in the back garden (no mention of veggie plot), seems a bit suspect to me. We shall investigate once (and if) this weather ceases. Enough cabin fever induced rambling, how did we get here anyway?
Colin's plan was to leave at 4am for the 70 or so mile passage to Shetland from Westray in the Orkneys. We radioed the coastguard to let them know our plans in case we came into difficulties and left the harbour under sail. The wind was pretty fresh and delivered us almost to Scalloway on the western side of the Shetland archipelago. We were rarely out of sight of land and we could see Fair Isle and the precipitous cliffs of the Isle of Foula for most of the way. The light here is distinct, I can't say exactly what is different about it compared to other places, but it seems to have more clarity or brightness, the sky seems somehow closer. Normally, things look more beautiful and the colours more vibrant when I wear my sunglasses, however here the opposite is the case. The low sun illuminated the cliffs of the Shetland mainland and a number of blocks of rainbow coloured air appeared above the hills. Then they slowly melted back in to the bog whence they came while Great Skuas and Fulmars followed in our wake . I tried to imagine what early settlers would have experienced arriving in Shetland by sea, as from this distance little had changed over time. What kind of mystical land were we all approaching? We weaved our way between the islands that make Scalloway the protected harbour it is and tied up on the decrepit pontoon at the boat club. We raced inside, as it was approaching last orders, (if there is such a thing here) and had a enjoyable welcome drink, and then a couple more....
Colin and Craig headed out the following morning and bought a large quantity of fish and shellfish for a very reasonable price and Craig cooked up a wonderful scallop dish and the best haddock he had ever cooked. We headed in to Lerwick for the day by bus which is the capital of Shetland. It is a very well kept town and there seems to be quite a lot of money around.
We spent the next few days sailing around the spectacular west and central coast of the mainland. This coastline has been battered unremorsefully by the Atlantic (like today) for thousands of years. The geology is very mixed up which leads to some pretty awesome rock formations if you like that kind of thing. I'm talking about giant grotesque stacks, massive sea caves with collapsed roofs running 500m back in to the land, and natural arches you could drive a double decker bus through. And all of these make perfect homes for the sea birds who nest here. We were lucky enough to see numerous baby fulmars.
Our second landfall in Shetland was Walls. We went there as they were having their yearly regatta. We thought it would be good fun and that we may also be able to crew on some on the racing boats. In the event, only three racing yachts were taking part and the main attraction was a salmon bin race. It was explained to us that you have a few drinks, get in to the square, not particularly buoyant box and row around a nearby island. ummm. Instead we took part in the relatively safe raffle in which we could win a paint roller. We didn't stick around for the results and headed off the following day to Papa Stour.
Papa Stour is an island off the west coast populated by 23 people who are always arguing according to the locals of Walls. This may have something with the fact that they are mostly there as part of a government repopulation programme, which involved enticing people there with the offer of a free croft and 5 sheep each. It is seen as a refuge from the rat race - oh yes and it is, no rats here. I don't know what we were expecting when we arrived in the bay called Hamna Voe, on the south side of Papa Stour, but it wasn't a set from Doctor Who. It was like landing on the moon. There were no bushes or trees, just a barren landscape strewn with boulders and rocks. Some derelict sheep corrals stood on the shore, simply rings of piled stones. The only signs of recent humans was the presence of sheep and the colourful flotsam and jetsam from far off fishing boats lining the shoreline. The strange Hitchcock-esque atmosphere was reinforced when Craig rowed to the beach from the mothership. He was attacked by a gang of well organised squawking Arctic Terns and by vicious pecking Great Skuas (aka Bonxies, which can kill sheep, apparently!).
We returned to the land in force the following day with the added protection of an umbrella to explore the island. What Papa Stour lacks in vegetation, it makes up for in its startling geology, It is here where you can find some of the finest sea caves and cliffs in the world carved into the larva that makes the island. We took a dramatic walk to the western end of the island and back again, there were some signs of habitation in the distant past; four small two storied mills built of stone used to grind bere grain by monks and the remains of a stone track.
Our sailing journey continued through Papa Sound to St. Magnus Bay (possibly created by an ancient meterorite) on the North Western Side of the Mainland. The weather was not kind and it continued to rain for the rest of the afternoon. This was a shame as we generally like to sail close to the shore to view the scenery. Around here this is often possible as the coast is usually steep-to; plunging straight down into the sea, but in this weather it's better just to get to where you're going. We sailed past Vementry and its World War One gunnery placements and tucked in behind a bay on the northern shore. We had great difficulty anchoring and tried on three occasions before we succeeded. There was lot of weed and strange animals on the bottom (see photo) and it shoaled very steeply which made it tricky to dig the anchor in with any confidence.
It took us so long that Colin had managed to cook us a lovely dinner by the time we were secure. Night had fallen and we were relaxing with a glass of wine about to go to bed, when the wind decided to do a "180". Grhhh- unprintable language. Now, far from being in a nice secure anchorage we were now being blown towards the land and our anchor threatened to undig itself as it twisted around. This Southerly wind was completely unforecast. It was essentially a freak wind, that was not by any means suggested in the synoptic charts. We waited for an hour to see if it would go back to a Northerly, but it persisted. We had to clear out. It didn't make sense to head for an anchorage that was sheltered from the South as we were quite sure as soon as we had anchored the fickle wind would change its mind, so we had to head for somewhere more secure which turned out to be Aith and a couple of hours later we tied up to a reliable old pier. The following day after a good sleep we said our goodbyes to Colin who got a lift to the Lerwick ferry with a guy from the garage. I hope Colin had a good time with us, we certainly did. We did more sailing than usual because it is that much easier to organise things with an extra pair of hands. So if anyone would like to join us......let us know.
A couple of days in Aith and another trip to Lerwick saw us restocked, rewatered and smelling pleasant. We headed around the corner to Voe which is reportedly the "most Norwegian looking village" in Shetland. Hum, we think that the marketing people who write the brochure for Shetland are scraping the bottom of their superlative barrel with this one. As we don't know what a "Norwegian Village" looks like and cannot verify this claim we cannot tell you if this is the case. But it doesn't matter, the people in the pub were very friendly and they gave Craig a bag of live scallops. He had fun opening all 20 of them for the rest of the afternoon. They are funny creatures, they open up, showing their ugly filter feeding tentacles once submerged in water, if you poke them they spit water at you and snap shut! It is worth noting that Voe has a fantastic bakery which sells first class muffins.
Armed with muffins, scallops and a mini roast beef we set sail to our present location. The weather was fine and the sun shone on the multicoloured sculptured granite cliffs of Muckle Roe, with the outline of the hills and cliffs in the distance it was quite a remarkable scene. We sailed slowly in to the sheltered anchorage and I had my first crack at anchoring (Craig normally does it). After three goes we set it fast and have been weather bound since. The aforementioned food has been devoured and we have run out of beer, wine and vodka, alas we are surviving on Gin & Tonics. Still, worse things happen at sea....
Three days later we were still weatherbound. So far we hadn't left the boat as we were worried about the anchor dragging in such strong winds. But we were starting to go crazy in such a small space and the anchor had held well so far, so we pumped the dingy up and went ashore. We hitched a ride to the near by town of Hillswick. It is here that the vegetarian cafe is that I mentioned rather flippantly earlier. It was in fact lovely. The menu looked pretty good, and curiously there are no prices on the menu. This is because you choose how much you would like to pay! All monies go to the upkeep of the animal santuary in the back garden (where the veggie plot is). We met Silver the resident seal sunbathing next to her pond and two, very cute baby common seals. The latter were in a shipping container in large plastic boxes. They stared up to us with big dark doey eyes. They have a childrens' paddling pool in which they are learning to swim and eat fish! The Hillswick Wildlife Sanctury was in the news when the Braer Oil Spill (1993) occured; they helped to rescue 37 seals and seven otters. The sanctury is part of Willing Workers On Organic Farms (WWOOF), so if you would like an interesting job for a while...
We then headed off for a walk around Hillswick Ness. This is a roughly diamond shaped headland that has fabulous cliff scenery. The photos tell the story better than any words, but it really was spectacular.
After a visit to the shop we hitched a ride back to the bay and felt a little saner. The following day the winds were forecast to ease somewhat so we prepared to sail or at least stick our nose out. With two reefs in the main and the number 3 jib (about a third smaller than our normal head sail and stronger) we headed out of the Ura Firth. The wind was still pretty strong and seastate was rough. We were sailing up and down waves four meters high. Neither of us were particularly happy about this so we turned tail, and sailed rather quickly back to our anchorage. We eventually left the following day, when the seastate had moderated. Incidentally when we hauled the anchor up a pipe fish was trapped in the chain links, and thrashed around on deck until we could catch it. We felt more confident having seen the previous days waves and had a cracking sail west to Eshaness. We gave the spectacular coast a wide berth as we were on a rock strewn lee shore and the wind was just shy of 30kts. The wind was building and this was confirmed by the coastguard who issued an "imminant gale warning". We only had a short distance to go and we were travelling fairly quickly so we weren't too worried. About an hour later we entered the narrow gap to Hamna Voe (Eshaness), and anchored in the sheltered bay. The gale kicked in, and we saw 42kts on the wind speed dial (about 50mph) at one point. It wasn't particularly comfortable and we didn't really sleep. To make things more interesting there was a windshift in the small hours that swung the boat around onto some rapidly shoaling ground. We tried to re-anchor in deeper water but after a while it dragged as it was quite weedy.Thank God for engines! We motored to the other side of the bay and felt our way, with our depth meter to a fishing pier,as there isn't a detailed chart of the area to tell us depths. Here we tied up to a sturdy creel fishing boat and in a much happier mood fell asleep.
The sun was shining the next day and the friendly man who ran the fishing boat gave Craig a rather large live lobster for free! What a difference a day makes!
We put the creature in a bucket of water and headed up the Braewick Cafe for "lunch with a view". You would be hard pressed to find a resturant with a better view than this one. It looks out east over the battered red granite shore with its stacks and a fantastic view of the Drongs that we had already seen from Hillswick. We wondered if people had watched us sailing past the previous day.
Craig cooked the lobster for dinner, it only just fit into our pot, which it wasn't very happy about. It tasted delightful, I think we should have it more often.
The fishermen went out in their sturdy boat in the morning and returned saying it was too rough, which was good enough for us, so we went for a walk instead. We headed up along the larva cliffs of Eshaness. The rock formations are unreal. As the sea was quite rough we got a fabulous show of the strength of the waves as they recoiled and exploded on exposed rocks, sending spume tens of metres high in to the air. Once again the photos tell the story better than words.
When we reached Eshaness lighthouse we hitched a lift back with some Spanish people. They had moved here from Madrid, bought an old house and they had been doing it up since October. They were so happy and full of energy.
That evening we decided that we would head back to mainland Scotland. The weather has been so poor for the last couple of weeks. We would love to sail around to the northern Islands of Unst and Yell, but we risk getting stuck here with bad weather and we are afterall a long way from home. So we will just have to come back again one day.