Starting On the Edge: St Kilda
So, how did my journeys with a camera begin?
I work as an archaeologist, which quite often involves working away from home. Back in September 2013, I was working on Tiree, on my own, for a week and, as you do, spent some time trawling social media to entertain myself in the evenings. I came across a post on Facebook by Marcus McAdam Photography , a landscape photographer based on the Isle of Skye advertising his first photo trip to St Kilda, somewhere that had long been on my bucket list. It was perfect for me - it combined my interest in archaeology and history with an opportunity to start to learn how to use my camera to take the kinds of images I wanted to take. I sent my husband the link saying I would like to go; he replied ‘Go for it’ (words I think he has regretted ever since), so I did, immediately. Signed up there and then!
For those of you who don’t know, St Kilda is an archipelago of four main islands and a few sea stacks lying some 40 odd miles to the northwest of the Outer Hebrides on the west coast of Scotland. It’s the UK’s only double UNESCO World Heritage site and was occupied by Britain’s most remote community from prehistoric times up until 1930 when the last residents were voluntarily evacuated. The abandoned village on Hirta, the main island, still remains and has been partially restored by the National Trust for Scotland who owns the island.
There has also been an army base on Hirta since the 1950s. Built between 1957 and 1958, the initial plans included using the township as a quarry for stone. Luckily, the planning consent specified that structures within the village head dyke should not be demolished. The original route of the road that runs from Village Bay up to Mullach Sgar was also changed when it was realised that it would cause greater destruction and disturbance to the village and wildlife than previously anticipated. Inevitably, despite mitigation efforts, some aspects of the historic landscape were damaged during construction of the base. I have to admit, it’s a bit of a shock the first time you come round into Village Bay to be confronted by the base in amongst the old buildings - it jars a bit!
Village Bay, Hirta - the first glimpse of the abandoned buildings and the army base
The Village as seen today was laid out by the minister, the Reverend Neil Mackenzie, in the 1830s and consists of a crescent of houses with associated cultivation plots, all within a head dyke. The houses built in the 1830s were typical Hebridean black houses, single-roomed with the cattle being accommodated in them with the family in winter. When you stand in them, you appreciate just how small they are and it’s not difficult to imagine how dark, smoky and smelly they would have been. There is a wonderful story of one of the Ministers going to visit a family and having to be pulled into the house over the dung that had accumulated!
In the 1860s new houses were built. These were of a standard Hebridean design with an entrance lobby, small closet behind, and two main rooms. They weren’t as practical as the old black houses though as they faced on to the weather coming in off the sea rather being end on as previously.
The cleitan of St Kilda are the most numerous and distinctive structure on the islands; 1337 have been mapped on Hirta, 60 on Boreray, 33 on Soay and 80 on Stac an Àrmainn. They are narrow, sub-rectangular drystone buildings, roofed with transverse lintels and covered with an earth and turf cap. They probably developed out of the need to store a large quantity of eggs and fowl, however the earliest references to them occur in the 17th and 18th centuries when they were also used as peat stores. Quite why so many were built, and in some quite hair-raising locations, is anyone's guess!
Fulmars were an essential part of St Kilda's economy. The agricultural cycle had to fit around the main fulmar harvest. It seems almost inconceivable now that seabirds such as these would be considered a crop, but to the St Kildans they provided feathers, oil and meat. The young fulmars were almost fully fledged by the beginning of August and ready for killing. The men culled the birds by descending the sheer cliffs with only a rope around their waists; a lighter man went down the cliff while a heavier man was his anchor.
Electricity came to St Kilda in 1958 with the construction of the military base. Prior to that, the St Kildans lit their homes with lamps burning fulmar oil. I can't begin to imagine what that smelled like!
So, at the beginning of July 2014, I joined a small group of fellow photographers in Uig on the Isle of Skye to begin an adventure that has since taken me around the world with Marcus and his colleague, James, under the guise of Worldwide Explorers. I have to admit to feeling just a little bit nervous about heading off to St Kilda for a few days with a group of people I had never met before, not least because I am prone to seasickness! I needn’t have worried as, within minutes of meeting up, Marcus and James had put everyone at ease and the laughter began. And the laughter continued until we went home. It was a great group of folks and we all got on very well; several have become good friends.
After getting over the initial shock of seeing the army base as you come into Village Bay, you soon become enveloped in the special atmosphere that surrounds the islands; it’s magical. I can’t put my finger on what makes it feel that way; it is most probably a combination of the remoteness, the sense of history that pervades the village and the weather.
Wherever you go on St Kilda involves an uphill hike. One of the best view points of Boreray, another island in the archipelago, is from The Gap. The walk up can best be described as a bit of a slog - it is literally straight uphill from Village Bay. I’ve now done it several times and, believe me, it doesn’t get any easier the more you do it!
Boreray is the smallest Scottish island to have a summit measuring over one thousand feet and is home to the rarest breed of sheep in the UK, the Boreray sheep, which are not to be confused with the Soay sheep as they are genetically distinct.
To the left in the images below are two sea stacs: the one in the foreground is Stac Lee and the one behind it is Stac an Armin, which is slightly higher and at 191m is the highest sea stac in the UK. The island and the stacs are home to a myriad of seabirds, including one of the largest gannet colonies in the world.
Gleann Mor and Glen Bay (below left) are on the opposite side of Hirta to Village Bay. To get there involves a long, slow climb to the saddle below Mullach Sgar. You can then head straight down the glen or, as we did, continue round the cliff head, past the Lover's Stone to Mullach Bi and beyond. The origins of Gleann Mor lie in prehistory, but the area was used latterly by the St Kildans as summer grazing
The Lover's Stone (below right) is so named because there is a story that the young men of St Kilda, before they could marry, had to prove they were able to provide for a family by climbing the rocks to catch birds for food. They had to balance on their left foot over the edge of a protruding rock, place their right foot in front, bend down and make a fist over their feet. This balancing act was proof of their agility on the rocks. This is me on the rock having gone far enough towards the edge (in my opinion!) and keeping both feet firmly on the stone! (Image courtesy of Marcus McAdam)
Click on images to see full size
The Tunnel is a wonderful geological feature on the north side of the island, which involves a descent into Glen Bay to reach it. The sea enters from both ends of the Tunnel, which made for interesting conditions the day we visited as the sea was quite rough. Normally, you can get a shot out towards Boreray, framing it in the mouth of the tunnel, but the rocks were just too slippery to do that safely so I had to make do with a partial view (below left); although I did get one from the boat the day we left (below right).
An Cambar, the most northerly point on Hirta, is the best place to see Soay, which is the second largest island in the St Kilda archipelago and where the sheep that now roam Hirta are derived from. All the Soay sheep in the world are descended from those on Soay. They are much smaller than other sheep and provided the St Kildans with wool, mutton and milk.
We camped out overnight at An Cambar in the hope that we would get a great sunset and sunrise at what felt like the edge of the world. Sadly the weather didn't cooperate, but seeing the puffins more than made up for it. They are such comical little birds to watch - full of character.
This has to be one of the most stunning locations for a cemetery, overlooking Dun and Village Bay.
Living on the edge as the St Kildans did, carrying out fowling on the precipitous cliffs or travelling by boat to the neighbouring islands and stacs to find birds, you would imagine that accidents on the cliffs or drowning would have accounted for many premature deaths. In fact, it is quite the opposite - there are only two recorded drownings in the documented history of St Kilda and very few St Kildans fell on the cliffs.
The main cause of death on the island was disease. They suffered a leprosy outbreak in the late 1600s; smallpox in 1724, which ravaged the population leaving 4 adults and 26 orphaned children to carry on life; cholera in the early 1800s and influenza in 1913. Every household possessed a bottle of whisky or port reserved exclusively for medicinal purposes, and it usually proved itself the best cure for all ills.
By the late 1800s, the islanders were being vaccinated against the more dangerous diseases. The one disease that could not be vaccinated against was that which caused the phenomenally high infant mortality rate on the island: neonatal tetanus. On average, more than 70% of newborn babies died of tetanus before they were 10 days old. It must have been heartbreaking for the pregnant women knowing that the child they were carrying was unlikely to survive. One woman gave birth to 12 children, only one of which survived.
Mourning on St Kilda lasted a week and was intensely emotional, probably reflecting in part the seriousness of loss of life in a community so small and which struggled continually with a decreasing population.
On 29th August 1930, the entire population of 36 St Kildans was evacuated from the island by the H.M.S Harebell, bound for a new life. It is documented that they were sad, but not sorry, to be leaving. As I left the island, I couldn’t help but wonder what was actually going through their minds as they looked at the island for the last time and contemplated what the future held.
I also wondered how the 36 inhabitants who left St Kilda in 1852, bound for a new life in Australia, felt as they steamed out of Village Bay. Most had never left the island before so goodness knows what they would have made of Glasgow and Liverpool! Unfortunately, due to their lack of resistance to most common diseases, over half the St Kildan emigrants died on the journey or soon after arrival whilst in quarantine. It was almost a year later before friends and family on the island heard of their fate.
I’ve been fortunate to have visited the island twice now and very much hope to go back again. Anyone who has been will tell you that you won’t want to stop at one visit!