Shetland! Day 3: The Scalloway Isles and Kayaking Ronas Voe

Maybe it was the good meal, the good bed, or perhaps the good cider, but we definitely didn't get up in line with the strict itinerary on day three. Eventually and with the help of some pancakes from the bakery across the road, we made it out of Voe at about eleven, heading for Shetland's ancient capital of Scalloway, on the west coast, with a population of under 1,000. After browsing the bookshop/cashpoint we moved on to Scalloway's own little archipelago, islands all connected by road forming a finger down into the water.

Scalloway in the sunshine

The first of these was Trondra (8). Very little to report, we only really got out of the car to take pictures in front of the sign. There's probably lots of interesting stuff to say about Trondra, I just don't know what it is. Driving across the next bridge we came to West Burra (9) and a third bridge to East Burra (10) at the end. Here we indulged in some good fun island bagging, a few little tiny tidal dinkers that required more fence hopping and a bit of clambering to reach. The first, off Smiddy point at Houss (10) required us to tightrope walk or shimmy across a piece of discarded marine architecture, some pipe or other which had washed up and formed a handy bridge over the narrow channel. 

The bridge to Trondra seen from Trondra

Super-Cool

Liam and the Doctor on East Burra

A lot of discussion has gone into the definition of exactly what defines an island. Can it support two sheep? Does it have a variety of vegetation? Does it matter if it's cut off every high tide or only a couple of times a year? All important questions to ask, but never has it been does a metal pipe bridge prevent it becoming an island. Definitely not, we're counting it!

Definitely an island

The next two were right across the bay, jutting out from what the most detailed map we could find referred to as "the taing", though there are lots of 'taing's all over Shetland, so maybe that's a generic term. Anyway, to be specific the inner one is at 60.064839 / -1.317957 and the outer one is just further out (11 &12). We started our walk across the sandy gaps as four but soon reduced to two, Fran and Mike genuinely unprepared to risk death from above from the angry terns who this time were actually attacking. Me and Liam dashed for it and managed to climb onto both of the little islands and get evidential picutres and sprint back before we got smashed to smithereens.

Death from above?

Shetland's biggest export. Pony.

 Next we ventured back to West Burra and down to Kettla Ness, a large headland connected by a tombolo, but again not an island, but with the sun shining incredibly picturesque. A couple of ruined buildings and hundreds upon hundreds of sheep.

 After this our original intention had been to meet up with Angus from Sea kayak Shetland to head out to some of the non-connected islands in the bay from Hamnavoe on West Burra, but he said the seas were still too rough after a force seven storm a few days before (see Bressay), but if we wanted we could join him at Ronas Voe back in Northmavine. It would mean no extra islands today, but still sounded like great fun, so we hot-footed it to Heylor and met first Angus's friend Phil, then the man himself arrived with enough kayaks for all of us. 

Nice skirt

After donning protective gear and a quick lesson in kayak steering, we were out on the quiet water deep in the Voe, with the edge of Shetland's highest peak, Ronas Hill, rising up out of the water on the opposite bank. Angus took us through some interesting and at times hair-raising rock formations, pointing out the wildlife and giving us insights into the geography and geology of the area.

Kayaks

Hair-Raising Rock Formations

With seals swimming around and under the boats and puffins (tammy nories) bobbing on the water next to us it was pretty magical. After about two and a half hours and about three or four kilometres we rounded a sea-stack and made back for the beach, Mike winning the obligatory race by miles.  

Liam and the Doctor

In a little cave

  At about eight we finished on the water and drove first to Brae for supplies at the Co-op, then on to Nesbister for our most isolated accommodation yet. Situated on the end of a shingle spit, the böd, an old fishing hut, had no electricity, no shower and only a chemical toilet out the back. Arriving as it was already getting dark didn't help much, but after lighting a few candles and getting a peat fire going we got a little bit more comfortable and Fran was able to cook us a delicious dinner of pasta, ham, green beans and woodlice on the single stove. With no light to see by and exhausted from a day of physical activity, we were soon to bed and thoughts on the adventure tomorrow.

'Kitchen' at Nesbister