OUT TO SEA ON THE SHETLAND ISLANDS
Story and photos by Candace Leslie

Like pebbles tossed into a little box, the Shetland Islands seldom earn their rightful place on a map of Scotland. Instead, this rocky archipelago is usually assigned a small rectangle adrift in the NorthSea or the Atlantic Ocean.  While a practical map-making matter, such placement can easily mislead one into thinking that Shetland, like Orkney or the Hebrides, is simply a cluster of islands not so far off the coast.

Getting to Shetland is equally deceiving. Flying from Glasgow or Inverness takes only a few hours, even with stops along the way. Take the ferry and you will sleep through most of the trip for the crossings are at night. On arrival, you will find plenty that is familiar - taxis to take you to comfortable lodgings, cars to rent, guides to hire. Granted, the pleasant little capital city of Lerwick has an old world charm with cobbled streets and historic stone buildings, but it is also as modern as one could wish.

If the sun is shining and the winds are moderate, it will be tempting to believe Shetland is like places you have been before. But look again. Stay until the weather changes, which may happen at any minute. Listen to lilt of the language which sounds as Scandinavian as it does Scottish. Enjoy the hospitality, the story-telling and whimsy. Above all, keep in mind you are not in a little box on the corner of the map, but far out to sea, closer to the Arctic Circle than to London and just over 200 miles from Norway.

Our first sighting of Shetland was from the P&O ferry at six o’clock in the morning. Other passengers joined us on deck, all of us bundled up against the chill wind. The ship was running parallel to Mainland, the archipelago’s largest island. Snow had fallen in the night, giving the treeless, rounded hills a light dusting like powdered sugar. Occasionally we sighted little clusters of houses or a few sheep. Until we neared Lerwick after two more hours of sailing, Shetland seemed a deserted place. But a week later, when we departed along this same coastline, it was evening with lights glowing from distant villages, airport runways, and the lighthouse at Sumburgh Head. By then we would have traveled from the bottom to the top of Shetland, experienced its wild beauty and its capricious weather, marveled at its amazing history, and been welcomed by hardy, hospitable, creative people who graciously shared glimpses of life in Great Britain’s most northerly outpost.

We are just a pile of rocks sticking up in the ocean, one Shetlander jokingly told us. Geologically, she was correct. Shetland erupted from volcanoes, was smoothed by the Ice Age, and flooded by rising waters before becoming the long, narrow archipelago of 100 or so islands and skerries. Although only 70 miles between the northern and southern tips, Shetland claims almost 1000 miles of coastline, from high rugged cliffs to sheltered sandy beaches. Long, narrow tongues of the Atlantic and the North Sea pierce the coastline, forming picturesque protective coves.

Today 22,000 residents inhabit fewer than two dozen of the islands. Despite the far-flung location, people have lived here and left their marks for more than 5,000 years. Our first day we drove down South Mainland to Jarlshof, an amazing archaeological site inhabited from before 2500 BC until the mid-1700s. A Bronze-Age smithy, Iron Age roundhouse, Pictish wheelhouse, and Norse buildings lay hidden for centuries until a violent storm in 1905 blew enough soil away to reveal clues of occupation that archaeologists would later uncover.

The sun shown warmly as we explored the ruins, traced the corridors, and imagined the peoples who had found this such a desirable spot for so many millennia. Jarshof is like a sampling of the tremendous number of prehistoric and historic sites that dot these islands.

Here we had our first taste of Shetland’s notorious weather. The morning snow had disappeared and we had shed our jackets in the warm sunshine. Suddenly, dark clouds and a glorious double rainbow appeared across the moors to the east. Within minutes sleet was pelting down, turning the ancient site and its paths white and slippery. By the time we slid our way to the car in a nearby parking lot and scraped the windshield clear, the sun came out again. The remainder of the day was balmy.

Perhaps no place on earth can lay better claim to the old cliché: If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.  Thanks to the nearness of the Gulf Stream, Shetland experiences very little bitter cold.  But that same Gulf Stream, its warmth mingling with Arctic winds, causes dramatically sudden changes. Frequent violent winds prevent trees from surviving except in the most sheltered gardens. Weather predicting is risky business. Warned by Internet forecasts, we came prepared for rain and cold wind. We did use our coats and sweaters, the waterproof gear stayed in our suitcases.

You’re having very fine weather, everyone told us. How lucky! Weather seems to be the chief topic of conversation, and when it’s good to visitors, Shetlanders seem especially pleased. The elements hampered us only once. We had saved one morning for hiking the wild basaltic cliffs at Eshaness on the west coast of North Mainland. A storm arrived in the night. While we managed to stand against the wind long enough to photograph a lonely lighthouse, we feared venturing further should the gale-forces blow us into the sea

On a sunnier morning we observed the power of the sea breaking on the rocks at the tip of the island of Unst. On Yell we were sobered by a memorial recalling the storm of 1881 that wrecked 6 boats, took the lives of 58 men, land left 38 widows and 85 children. At the excellent Shetland Museum in Lerwick we marveled at the dramatic history of Shetland fishing and whaling. At Lunna and Scalloway we learned about the Shetland Bus, a courageous World War II fishing-boat operation that delivered saboteurs and arms to Norway, and smuggled refugees to Britain. Every place we visited revealed brief chapters in the story of survival in this remote world.

Perhaps no event in Shetland’s history has had as dramatic an impact as the 1970’s discovery of oil in the North Sea. By 1978, a terminal had been built at the mouth of the long sea inlet, Sullom Voe, to become the largest in Europe, handling as much as 1 million barrels of crude oil per day. Shetlanders who once survived modestly on cod and herring fishing, on croft farming, and by knitting their famous sweaters suddenly found themselves in a whole new world of economy. It has been a mixed blessing, the source of much sociological study. But, to the visitor at least, it has not seemed to destroy the delightful character of the people of Shetland. They are some of the most hospitable we have ever met.So what might you discover should you make the long journey to these windswept islands?

You will find delightful lodgings, ranging from the luxurious Busta House at Brae to the modest B&B over the post office at Goutcher on Yell, where noted story-teller Lawrence Tulloch and his wife "always stop what we are doing to have a visit with our guests."  You will discover museums, large and small, that present the unique histories of their distinctive locales, such as the Fetlar Interpretive Centre at Houbie where Jane Mack is gathering the past into exhibits and sophisticated computer files. You will find beautiful crafts, such as the traditional knitwear at NorNova on Unst and Shetland Silver jewelry with patterns inspired by local wildlife and Norse and Celtic lore. If you venture beyond Mainland (and you must) you will board numerous ferries. Like the Shetlanders, you will pace your comings and goings around the sailing schedules.

In spring and summer there will be blankets of wildflowers and thousands of migratory birds. By June the sun will shine almost all 24 hours, with only a brief simmer dim  as it barely dips below the horizon. In winter you may experience the shimmering Aurora Borealis. If you are really daring, go in late January, when the traditional Up-Helly-A fire festivals brighten up the winter nights. You will see plenty of Shetland ponies, no longer beasts of burden hauling baskets of peat to heat the houses, but popular and oft-photographed pets. Visit the Croft Trail developed by Mary and Tommy  Isbister, seasoned farmers committed to saving plants and animals native to Shetland. When not crofting, Tommy makes violins and builds boats that are works of art. Don’t miss the islands’ distinctive fiddle music. Read the works of noted Shetland poets, picking up a few words of the distinctive dialect.Come prepared for all weather. Margaret Tulloch, postmistress at Goutcher related the tale of a meteorologist who was asked to write a chapter on Shetland weather for a guide book.  Instead, he came up with two sentences:

The weather in Shetland can be quite nice.

And sometimes is. 

Whether raining or sleeting, blowing gales or moderate breezes, we would gladly go again. 

The warmth and gentle humor of the people more than make up for anything the weather might deliver. And as a gentleman selling film in a camera store assured us, "It’s easy to take pictures here. There are no trees to get in the way." Above all, the ever-changing drama of these sea-surrounded rocks never ceases to reward.

IF YOU GO

For information on lodging, sightseeing, and travel to and around the Shetland Islands, contact Shetland Islands Tourism, Market Cross, Lerwick, Shetland ZE1 0LU, Scotland;  Phone: (from the US) 011 44 1595 69 34 34. E-mail: shetland.tourism@zetnet.co.uk

Detailed information may also be accessed on the excellent website:  www.visitshetland.com