Wild Shetland - Sumburgh and Noss

Wild Shetland – Sumburgh and Noss

Leaving Unst, at the very northernmost tip of Shetland, we travelled to the very south of mainland at Sumburgh Head. On route, we stopped at Burravoe on Yell, somewhat short of time, and walked briskly out to the shoreline for black guillemot and a colony of arctic tern. Initially, there seemed to be just the one distant black guillemot perched up on a low rock but as if by magic, the other rocks seemed to sprout handsome black auks with the glorious contrast of the big white side patch and red feet. In some places, odd singletons just appeared, in others, there was suddenly a line of three or four birds, sometimes restless, always engaging.

The local terns were equally fascinating if sometimes a little too close! There was certainly a moment where the call seemed very adjacent indeed to my left ear and it did cross my mind that they would dive bomb me for being too close or maybe just for the fun of it. All this I should stress was at some distance from the colony itself. 

Our base for this part of the trip proved to be a cottage attached to Sumburgh lighthouse, a property with real character in a stunning setting. The cliffs on all sides of the head seemed to feature fulmar, with short stacks of rock home to guillemots, some razorbill and the odd shag. The seas were patrolled by gannets and marauding skuas, including one dashing, falconesque arctic skua, slimmer and quicker than its heavier great cousins. All eventually gave way to the setting sun, albeit in Shetland in June, it barely sets at all and then, not for very long.

The morning brought somewhat higher winds and after a brief foray pre breakfast, we headed out to explore this southern part of Shetland. At length, we found a small, sandy cove near Loch Spiggie and a second on the way to Bigton. This second cove boasted Caribbean clear water, moving around under the surface of which we could see a number of seals, eventually totalling some thirty animals when they later hauled out onto the sands. Yet another stretch of sand bordered by turquoise waters, this time on both sides, connects Bigton with St Ninians Isle. The sand curves cleanly out towards the isle with barely a footprint to mar its surface. This is said to be the largest ‘tombolo’ in the UK, disappearing for long stretches of time during the winter before becoming a more permanent feature in the summer months.

Our day finished this time with a post dinner walk around the now largely deserted lighthouse environs, peaceful if breezy (still no puffins).

Next day was all about the Isle of Noss, reached by a small car ferry from Lerwick to Bressay and then an inflatable taking three to five people onto Noss itself. The leap up from the boat to the top of a rock at low tide was something of a nervous exercise in itself but having accomplished this particular challenge, we were met by Bob the bonxie, a semi tame great skua which seemed content to sit on the grass and watch the birders. Noss is a National Nature Reserve, a relatively flat western part leading up to a high point at the ‘nose’ itself. A few stray bonxies and fulmar on the two mile walk out give no warning of what awaits; a huge amphitheatre of rugged, vertical sea cliff lined with the sight and sound of thousands of gannet. At this point, I simply sat down, a bit stunned actually, and drank in the experience, forgetting the camera altogether until it dawned on me that the photos might actually be quite good. Whether or not they are is for others to judge but even if they are brilliant, they can’t do justice to the reality.

The following day was all about puffins, specifically those at Sumburgh which had been largely absent over the preceding couple of days but which today, as if by magic, reappeared on the cliff tops around the head. The assumption was that conditions had taken nearly all of them out to sea en masse and all of them, en masse, decided it was time to return. Now we had small groups gathered close to the wall on which we were leaning in a bid to take close up images with, crucially, an attractive background featuring the sea, the cliffs, the gorgeous pink thrift or indeed all three.

Friday, our last day in Shetland, dawned cloudy. I say dawned because we were up at 3.30 am in order to catch the early boat back to Noss, this time to experience the gannet colony from the sea and what an experience it proved to be. Looking up the cliff face at the multitude of gannet was stunning, looking up above the boat to see them criss crossing over our heads in their hundreds even more so and then having them dive bomb the water around the boat as they aimed at fish thrown out for their, and our benefit, was beyond words. The water from splashes as they hit the sea was reaching us in the boat and a stray piece of fish thrown up in the inter gannet battles for nourishment landed on my camera. This was another moment where I just had to put the camera down, and marvel at one of nature’s spectacular displays. 

Aside from the bonus of a very close visit from a seal in Lerwick harbour, that was that. Shetland proved to be all that I had hoped; wild coastlines, steepling sea cliffs covered in nesting seabirds, moorlands boasting nesting waders and very friendly people. Neil McIntyre had proved to be knowledgeable, helpful and good company and I certainly learned a great deal in his company besides the whole week just being hugely enjoyable