Stronsay

[Maryanne]Orkney is made up of some 70 islands. I'm not sure how many are populated, and how many are tiny rocks barely exposed at high tide. Somewhat confusingly the main island that is home to the capital (Kirkwall) is called the Mainland. The flavour of Orkney is a little less Scottish that you may expect; it has a long association with Norway, and during WWII had a large population of Italian Prisoners of war, a significant number of which liked it so much they stayed (making Orkney on of the stranger places to get great ice cream!). We've seen more Norwegian boats here than British cruisers, many apparently visit for the duty free alcohol! Most traditional visitors come for the bird watching.


Kyle exploring an ancient burial tomb, and a swan sitting on its giant nest in Stronsay
Unlike the major cities and even smaller towns of the UK, the islands have had much less development during the 1900's, a loss of population, and the remaining population tends to move away from the countryside and into the smaller island towns, with a few remaining farmers hanging on out there. Given this the countryside remains relatively unscathed. Lots of ruins exist, from old crofter cottages, to ancient burial tombs. If these ruins have any protection at all, it is a small ring fence to stop the wandering sheep falling in to any holes. As you leave the main islands, the ruins are no longer presented as a tourist attraction, but are just there for you to discover and explore as you will!

[Kyle]We had a full day on Stronsay to have a look around. Summer appeared to be back, except that it was blowing so hard that anything not tied down disappeared downwind into a tiny point before we had time to grab at it. Never mind, the sky was blue and the low sub-arctic sun was shining.

We consulted our island map and decided to do the big nature hike loop on the other (south) side. The loop was supposed to be 6.5 miles total but it was about 4 miles from Footprint to the beginning along the islands roads. At every intersection, we would carefully get out our fluttering map, work as a team to get a hand on each corner, and decide where to go.

The nature walk first took us to the Bay of Housebay, where we were rewarded with a view of the relatively rare Grey seal (as opposed to the Common seal) doing what all of the animals around here seem to do, which is stop everything they are doing and just STARE at us as we went by. All of the cows along the way had been doing this in true bumpkin fashion and we were finding it a little disconcerting. As we got further and further from farmland, the density of seabird colonies also increased noticeably.


Plenty of birds at Lamb Head
We encountered a herd of sheep grazing on the shore at Lamb Head, another place name that seemed to have been given little thought. One side was smooth grassland, perfect for grazing; the other was steep cliffs, dotted with nesting gulls. We went through a gate in the fence and found another burial ground like Maeshow, but in a more advanced state of disrepair, mostly because the roof had caved in.

We also found one lone lamb that had somehow found itself on the wrong, dangerous side of the fence. We initially figure he’d find his way back in the way he got out, but the poor guy seemed to be having no luck. After a while, I couldn’t stop worrying about the guy and decided to herd him back through the gate Maryanne had opened for him.

Shepherding is hard. The lamb was terrified of me and kept running back and forth along the fence trying to escape me. Eventually, I had to out sprint him in the thick grass to get on the other side so that he would start running back toward the gate. I have a long way to go before I can saunter a hundred of them in the right direction with only the aid of a long stick.

Since our lamb was now reunited with its mother, Maryanne and I shut the gate and headed along the stunning cliff scenery. We startled thousands of birds along the way, who seemed to not see people too often, even though this was the main tourist walk on Stronsay.


Nesting birds on every possible safe place
Our cliff walk eventually terminated at the Vat of Kirbuster, a giant and beautiful natural arch in the rocks that made for a perfect spot to get off our feet and have a little picnic.


Vat of Kirbister - natural stone arch
On the way home, walking on the road past the farms, we spotted on lamb that seemed uncharacteristically unafraid of us. After a closer look, we realized he was caught with his head stuck in the fence. Maryanne went to free him. The poor guy squirmed and struggled like he thought she must be trying to strangle him. Maryanne managed to maintain her cool in the face of it and to get him free. He sprinted over to his mother for some comfort and a meal.

By the time we got back to Footprint, we were pretty tired and starting to limp, but feeling pretty amazed at the great day we had, and the stunning scenery (on a surprisingly sunny day).


Cliff scenery of Stronsay

Beaches too!

Kirkwall to Stronsay

Stronsay, like the rest of the Orkney Isles gets a LOT of wind!
[Kyle]From busy Kirkwall, we sailed to the quiet little village of Whitehall on the island of Stronsay. The day started with a lovely sunny, downwind sail through narrow, winding channels that had us passing close by the nearby scenery. Once in the wider Stronsay Firth, we ran into a six knot current that required us to turn forty degrees further into the wind to crab across it. The clouds rolled in and with our forward speed added to the wind, the day suddenly turned a lot less pleasant. At least the current and the wind were in the same direction so the waves were a lot smaller than they would be when the tide shifted. The water was still a swirling, boiling mess, though. We would sail from one eddy to another and the boat would yaw wildly. Maryanne commented that all of Scotland was like the notorious Hell Gate in the East River in New York. By the time we see that place again, it’ll be nuttin’

We pulled into Whitehall, a village of about twenty buildings and found a spot to tie up along the wall by the ferry dock. Maryanne called the harbour master and he said he would meet us in an hour when the ferry arrived. In spite of having the time, he was completely unprepared. Everything is kept in great, shifting piles on his desk, in his car, on the floor. He was unable to find any of the paperwork necessary to charge us for our stay and promised he’d get to us tomorrow. The only thing he did actually find was his record of who stayed when. It turns out we are the first boat to have arrived this year. That explains why it was so easy to find space along the wall.

I love beating the crowds.


Whitehall, Stronsay, Orkney Isles

Winter’s Back

Scenes from Kirkwall on the Mainland of the Orkney Isles
[Maryanne]Kirkwall is the capital of the Orkneys, and is on the main island (or mainland) of the Orkney Isles. Kyle and I had each been to Orkney before, and each had seen the its famous tourist site: the exceptionally well preserved Neolithic settlement of Skara Brae. This time we needed to see some of the lesser sights, but the weather was severely limiting our options.

[Kyle]After experiencing nearly an entire day of Summer, it was time, once again, for Winter.

Maryanne made a trip to the Kirkwall travel/tourist office and came home bristling with brochures and bus schedules. Public transportation causes you to lose a lot of time waiting around, but we did still manage to find a couple of cool things to do.


Maeshowe Neolithic Burial Chamber - yes, under that big mound!
Thing one was a trip to Maeshowe, a Neolithic burial site that predates the earliest Egyptian pyramids by 800 years. The site consists of a long slender tunnel leading to a large square main chamber. Each of the other three walls has a small doorway leading into smaller, lower chambers. The whole thing was constructed using dry stone technique (no mortar) with enormous slabs, some weighing nearly 20 tons. All of this is covered with about 10 feet of yellow clay brought in from quite some distance to form a mound about 20 feet high.

The site itself was interesting, but it was also fairly small, so it didn’t take long to see. The tour, however, was really well done. Our guide, after torturing us by making us stand out in the freezing rain while he didn’t even seem to notice for the first five minutes of the talk, finally let our group of about sixteen into the main chamber. From there, he went on for another 40 minutes telling us all about it. Maeshowe is interesting for two reasons. One is that it is a 5000 year old burial chamber; the other is that it has the largest collection of Viking runes outside of Scandinavia. They had broken in looking for shelter in the 1100s and carved runic graffiti all over the place.

After the talk, our guide opened up the floor for any questions. Most of us asked for clarification on one point or another which he answered knowledgeably. Then a guy asked how the acoustics were, like for chanting and such. Before the guide could answer, he and a couple of others started up, imploring each of us with his eyes to join him and share his mystical experience. Our poor guide got a look on his face. I imagine it is the same look Eiffel Tower guides get when they realize that they’ve been had and that a handful of the group has parachutes and are planning on base jumping off the thing.

“Oh great,” the look said, “Another group of nutters. We get ‘em two or three times a week. Just ignore them and they’ll lose interest.” They did, in fact, but not before shooting each of us a look that made it clear they disapproved of our lack of spiritual awareness.

Whatever.

We waited in the rain for another hour and got the return bus to Kirkwall, where we walked to the Highland Park Distillery for their tour. I had a Highland Park at the Eagle pub on the Caledonian Canal and really liked it. Maryanne and I were both looking forward to the tour. Plus, distilleries are warm.

This one was very nice. Highland Park is one of only five distilleries left in Scotland that malts their own barley so we finally got to see that. We actually scooped up a handful of freshly sprouted barley right off the malting floor and had a taste. Mmm, maltey!


Highland Park Distillery - most northerly Whisky maker
They also dry their malt over local heather peat fires. We also got a lot more information about the barreling process than other tours. Wow, that sentence even bored me. Well, it was interesting at the time! Unlike other distillers, Highland Park does the entire maturation in sherry casks instead of starting in bourbon and maybe finishing with a couple of years in sherry.

All of this makes for what several experts have called the finest whisky in the world. It surely is yummy stuff.

The Pentland Firth

Copinsay Island on a nice, calm day
[Kyle]Okay, we were not exactly in the dreaded, deadly, killer Pentland Firth, which separates mainland Scotland from the Orkneys, but sorta nearby. We actually gave the whole mess a pretty wide berth and passed by uneventfully a few miles to the east.

The first thing that happened on the day of the passage up to Orkney was that I crawled out of bed, wiped some condensation off the window and saw that the boat and the docks were covered in ice. It had hailed enough the previous evening to leave a layer on everything and it had subsequently partially melted and refrozen. It had kind of a non-skid look to it, which turned out not to be the case at all. We had to walk very carefully as we got the lines off and left the harbour. At least the sun was out (for now). By the time we left the protective walls of the harbour, the ice had melted and Footprint was just wet.

We made our turn north along the coast. I went forward to raise the mainsail. As I did, sheets of ice that had been shaded in the folds came down upon me, breaking on my head and shattering on the deck. Man, I sure do miss tropical sailing.

The wind slowly decreased until we pulled everything down to keep it from driving us nuts and we motored well clear of the Skerries (pronounced {by Kyle}: scaries!) The famous currents were all over the place. I doubt we would have been able to make any reliable progress under sail in light winds. In strong winds, with any waves against these currents, this place would be a really sloppy mess. For once, I was glad to motor by while the dragon slept.

The sun stayed out over the water and it actually got so warm that I got down to one layer, the top part being a short-sleeved t-shirt - outside, no less. It was Winter yesterday!

We entered Shapinsay Sound, we were rewarded with both wind and current and were slingshotted through the narrow gap between the Orcadian Mainland and Stronsay into Wide Firth, just outside of busy Kirkwall Harbor.