Shetland! Day 5: Itinerary Beakdown!

 So Papa Stour was off the cards, and so, after some signal searching and some unanswered calls and text messages, were Vaila and Linga near Walls. We were left with a day with no plan, no islands on the cards and no ferries to catch. Fortunately the house had a great big map, and we had heard a whisper that Shetland's largest uninhabited island was literally a stone's throw from the mainland. 

More on that later, first stop was a drive across from the west to the east, to Catfirth, in the parish of Nesting. Down a bumpy track past some traditional Shetland ponies (meaning an obligatory ten minute stop for Fran to make friends) we reached a stony gravelly causeway (tidal, we checked) leading across to the little island of Little Holm (15). It was fairly small, uninteresting and as usual we were under fire from the millions of terns, so we didn't stay long before heading back to the car. Being brutally honest it wasn't that good, but we've been there now, and it counts.

Little Holm across the causeway

Rubbish

 After this we spent a bit of time getting lost, ending up playing one of our favourite games driving to the end of every road. We ended up in Noonsborough and Clousta, tiny places so far away from anywhere that nothing is ever supposed to happen, and probably never does. The only real excitement was from the rudest named place in Britain. We definitely had to stop and take a picture of that.

Yep, that's right, I'm a Clousta

 After this we took the one road left to the north from Aith which led to Vementry. Vementry is a place, a farm and an island depending on what you want it to mean, where the road ends we parked up and went to see what we could see. The coastline around this part of Shetland is incredibly indented and whilst we knew that there were islands all around, it actually wasn't that easy to know what was an island and what wasn't, even with the map. We knew that we needed to rely on a bit of local knowledge, so we asked at the farm if there was any way we could get to the island. Interrupting the farmer from his whitewashing, he looked at us, then at his boat moored in the bay below, then back at us, and finally nodded. 

Vementry the place (Vementry the island in the background)

 "I can take you", he said, "if you give me ten minutes." One of our aims for Shetland had been to, as we put it, 'requisition' some private transportation for an island trip, and this looked like it was presenting the perfect opportunity. The boat was a little different to the ferries that we had been used to, a squat aluminium job with just about room for the four of us and the farmer. (We think his name was Hamish. Is that a Scottish stereotype? Did Angus tell us that? Did we make it up? If you read this, let us know, you're an official island baggers hero!) Anyway, safely aboard we literally sped across the channel at twenty eight knots, which is really really fast, and we were on Vementry (16) in no time. After jumping ashore and taking the obligatory silly photos we didn't stop for long so as not to keep the farmer waiting, but on the way back we explained to him a bit more about the mission and he had a bit of a suggestion. 

Durrrrrr

A bit windy perhaps

  Although Vementry was the biggest island in the area, one that he regularly crossed to ferrying sheep to and from their pastures, there were lots more that were reachable nearby if you had a boat and knew the way. Given an hour to properly finish his painting and a bit of cash to cover the fuel costs, he'd happily take us on a bit of a tour. If we said this was what we'd hoped for all along, it wouldn't be much of a lie, so we readily agreed and regrouped at the car. With an hour to kill, Mike and Fran were happy to wait by the car with a good book, but me and Liam had spotted a possible little treat down in the valley behind the farm.

Skipping down the hill, past overgrown stone walls and around the edge of the weed covered inlet as calm as a lake, we reached a beach opposite  a tiny little island, no more than ten or fifteen metres away, and it didn't look too deep. In another island baggers first, we stripped down to our underwear and waded out, but the dense weed made the progress a bit treacherous, we were worried we'd be stepping on crabs with every step. Still, we made it with no pinching incidents, and later learned it's name was Oggar Holm (17). 

Pants

Weed

 Meanwhile, back at the farm, the whitewashing finished, it was time for our second boat ride of the day, this time Hamish (?) had brought some wooden benches that slotted into the sides of the boat for extra comfort, and they definitely came in handy. Being fully on board with the island idea, he took us on a first rate tour of the islands in the bay, each time we thought one was the last he'd suddenly remember another little rock around the next corner. We didn't stop for long on any of them, but given that they were all uninhabited and mostly little windswept rocks, I don't think we missed much. First we went to the Holms of Uyea-sound (18). Apparently Hamish (just gonna go with it now, for consistency) had only ever been asked to take one person there before, and he was a guy who wanted to walk the coastline of all of the islands of Shetland. After a bit of a scout round the darkest corners of the internet, I reckon it was Walter Scott, pretty geeky, but definitely a hero!

On the boat

The Holms of Uyea-Sound I think

  After this was Papa Little (19), the little brother of Papa Stour, then on to a different Linga (20) in the end of St Magnus' Bay which reaches up to Brae. Even Hamish had never been here before, so I don't really know who ever would. From here it was back to little Inga's Holm (21) and then back to the west of Vementry, past the narrow channel that had it not been for Hamish we might have considered swimming, and through to Grink(Grinch?) Holm (22). Unremarkable.

Mike. Looks like an Eskimo in every picture (Inuit?)

"You can't go all the way to Scotland and not have one good picture"

Finally, the tiny, tiny little skerry right at the edge of the bay where the farm at Vementry sits. We're pretty anal when it comes to a description of an island, and one of the stipulations is that the landmass can support a couple of sheep. No problem said Hamish, I'll pop a couple over, then it'll definitely count. Does it have a name, we asked? Not as far as he knew, and he'd definitely be the one to know, so from now on, we're pleased to announce it is called "Bagger's Island"(23). No-one ever goes there, but in case you want to, our little island is here.

Bagger's Island (Vementry)

 So what started out as a day with no agenda at all turned out to be an awesome island hopping adventure. Nine in a day, a record for Shetland, and pretty good going under any circumstances. After all this exhilaration we headed to our bed for the night at Skeld, back out on to the west, a cosy little bod which we shared with a father and son team in Shetland to dive, but we think we had just as much fun on top of the water than under it. We were very careful that night to make sure the plans for tomorrow were all on track. After one little blip that turned into a great big adventure, it was almost (though not quite) a disappointment to know that everything was on course for our last full day in the islands.