Wild Shetland - Unst

After 2 years away, I have decided (again) to reboot the blog. I will start with a bit of time travel as this trip was indeed from 2 years ago but it seems like a good place to start before getting back to 'normal'.

Shetland had been in my consciousness for a long time as somewhere I wanted to visit. The name spoke of a certain rugged, bleak beauty and these are the kinds of places I like to experience. We travelled overnight on the ferry from Aberdeen (absolutely flat calm seas!) arriving into Lerwick at 7.00 in the morning in thick fog, or haar as it is known locally. Not quite what I might have hoped for! I had come to Shetland with professional photographer Neil McIntyre, his partner Jackie and some long time friends to photograph the wildlife and the landscape. Unst, was to be our base for the first few days, and is the northernmost of the islands but typical of Shetland in many ways, bleak perhaps but it’s mixture of open moor, sheep pasture, dry stone walls and collapsed crofts all had a beauty of their own. These inland characteristics were complimented by endless bays and in places, rugged cliffs which make so Shetland special.

Sunshine soon appeared and having settled into our accommodation, I was to be found wandering the roads adjacent to some rough pasture, perfect wader habitat and the redshank and oystercatcher were clearly nesting as they loudly warned me off. The fields and moorland however were alive with the sounds of curlew, whimbrel, skylark, meadow pipit and those oystercatcher. 

After an early dinner, we ‘tootled’ out and found a local bay helpfully signposted ‘otters and seals’. Seals we found along with more waders including dunlin and turnstone; a beautiful spot with the water in the bay like a mirror. At one point, I managed to see an indistinct shape on a small, calm lochan not far from the road. On becoming more visible, we were treated to surely one of the most wonderous sights in nature, a breeding plumaged red throated diver in all its glory.  We finished the day looking at an amazing flock of great skuas (never thought I would say that) bathing in a freshwater loch and then overlooking Muckle Flugga and its famous lighthouse as the sun set, throwing out gorgeous orange tones to complete the day.

Day two dawned with more of the dreaded haar, not attractive and impossible to penetrate. It did at least mean that the threatened 5.00 a.m. start had to be postponed for another day for which I was secretly grateful! The haar cleared after a while and we were back with the seals and oystercatchers of Northwick Bay, with the seals relaxed enough to interrupt their play to have a closer look at us.

In the afternoon we drove up to Hermaness and having done so, walked the two miles or so through a goodly number of great skua until reaching the cliffs. These skua are huge, threatening presences, particular when they fly low over your head. The cliffs were immediately impressive but it is when we turned a corner and were confronted with seemingly thousands of gannet crowding all available space that ‘impressive’ became jaw dropping. To add to the crowds of gannet on the cliff, there were scores more gliding and wheeling effortlessly through the air currents, in glorious contrast to the blue and grey hues of the sea.

A particular fascination for me were the fulmar, looking ancient but displaying an undoubted mastery of the updrafts, cutting through the air on characteristically straight wings. Puffins are of course another feature of these great seabird colonies. Those at Hermaness were not great in number but displayed all the character and charisma which makes them something of poster bird for conservation, loved as they are by those who know little about birds or nature in general. Such places are a reminder that it is a real privilege to experience truly wild places like Hermaness, populated by wild and beautiful creatures such as these, something few people get to do or in many cases, wish to.

Day three and we were back at Hermaness, this time with the cliffs initially shrouded in mist and in all honesty, we considered turning around. However, as we stood close to the edge trying to photograph fulmar dancing on the updrafts, the mist threatened to clear and eventually did so. Whilst that process was going on, we spent some time watching the puffins at very, very close range and trying to get successful flight images. Having walked west along the cliffs yesterday, this time we walked east for one of the wildlife experiences of my life. First becoming aware of the noise, we then came across a series of rock stacks just offshore covered in gannets. These colonies seemed to fill every available space with seemingly hundreds of gannet in the air at any one time wheeling around or gliding by. At different points, I just put the camera down and enjoyed the spectacle.

Unst had been brilliant for us, what of Shetland Mainland?