Tag Archives: Shetland

The Liberation Convoy

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One of the highlights of my Shetland trip was visiting the Liberation Convoy which visited Lerwick while I was there. My friends, Melanie and John Arthur came over from Whalsay and together we explored the Norwegian ships which had served in the World Wars and were commemorating 80 years from the end of World War II.

Though it was a fascinating experience there was, as always when thinking about wars, a heavy sense of grief and loss. On the first ship we explored, Hestmanden, we read many stories about the young men, British and Norwegian, who served on board this and other ships. There was devastation brought to so many lives, both those of the young men lost and even of those who came back alive but broken.

One of the most haunting things I read was that many of the sailors who served in WWII were not even welcomed back in Norway at the end of the war. Norway was occupied for most of the war, so many of them could not go home during wartime. By the time liberation occurred, they had been outside of Norway for longer than was allowed, and having not been back, they did not have the right to return. Many did not get back in until 1947 as they waited for papers to be sorted out.

I guess the leaders were dealing with their own devastation, but if there was ever a time for rules to be pushed aside, surely that should have been it? Sometimes Norwegian life was uncomfortable for me as I didn’t really know or understand all the rules or expectations and occasionally, would come up against them and know I didn’t really fit in. It’s hard to explain, but I can’t imagine this particular circumstance having occurred in the U.K.

John Arthur, who is co-owner of a fishing boat and a sailor himself, was particularly interested in the engines. It was incredible to see the machinery from 1911, still in working order and very much still a living memorial. There were oily rags and modern tools to keep everything going.

In a converse to the non-understanding of the rules I mentioned above, there was a sense of freedom in many parts of Norwegian life that doesn’t exist in the U.K. This was reflected in our exploration of these vessels.We were allowed in almost every area of Hestmanden, climbing steep ladders, allowed to poke in corners that I know in the U.K. would have been chained off as too dangerous to enter. I feel I’m talking too much about me and my reflections on living as a foreigner in Norway and not enough about the ships, but it is opening up these thoughts as I am writing this, so you’re just going to have to share them!

Hestmanden was a cargo ship and many of her stories were of sailing in convoys, where many accompanying ships were destroyed and the devastation of how it felt to be a survivor when you had witnessed so much death and lost so many friends and acquaintances. The Andholmen, which we visited next had seen more direct action.

Built as a fishing boat in 1938, she was requisitioned in 1940 by the Norwegian navy up in Narvik in Northern Norway. Germany controlled the only deep water landing place, so small vessels like the Andholmen were used to put allied soldiers ashore.

Later she worked between Shetland and Norway and then was based in Peterhead. It’s not so obvious from that photo, but she was armed and still ready to go.

Climbing down into the cabin, there were tidy bunks tucked away in corners and many more weapons, presumably a collection and not necessarily used on Andholmen herself. The cold metal of the guns makes quite a contrast against the warmth of the wood of which the ship is built. Unlike Hestmanden, which was set up as a museum, this was much smaller, but equally fascinating as a historic part of the war effort.

We didn’t get the chance to go aboard the Arnefjord, but she was one of the ships that worked as part of the “Shetland Bus” service that brought resistance fighters from Norway to the relative safety of Scotland.

The Erna and the Heland were also fishing boats, requisitioned for the Shetland Bus. It was a wonderful experience to see them eighty years later, moored again in Lerwick harbour.

The rest of my week in Shetland was filled with sunshine and coastal views, from cliffs to rocky shores and wonderful golden beaches. Thanks again to Lindsay and Melanie for a fantastic holiday.

Leaving at the end was sad, but I hope to be able to go back. Triar also had a good time, I think.

See you next time.

A Seal before Breakfast

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Triar and I had a wonderful trip to Shetland. Traveling with him is always a joy. He makes me proud and other people smile. We headed up from Settle on the train, changing at Carlisle, walking from Central to Queen Street in Glasgow, then on up to Aberdeen. The Palm Court Hotel made us very welcome and the breakfast was delicious. I think we may head up there sometime for a weekend break, but that’s a decision for another day.

The Hrossey was not due to sail until five, so we stayed in the hotel until eleven, then strolled into town. A brief shower sent me into a cafe, where for the first time ever, as I ordered my coffee, I was asked if I wanted some chicken and water for my dog. Of course I said yes. He deserved it, after all.

Once aboard the Hrossey, he quickly made himself at home.

It was something of a rough crossing, so we didn’t sleep much, but we arrived safely and on time in Lerwick on Sunday morning. Lindsay’s house, where we would be staying, is on the edge of Lerwick, so we set off to walk there, passing the Norwegian named Sandveien and Kantersted on the way.

Lindsay had told me she was going to be eating low-carb and I arrived to the wonderful aroma of a roasting joint of Shetland lamb. We cooked and ate a late breakfast and then headed back out. Melanie (you may remember I spent Wool Week with her last year) was playing in the Mandolin Band as a part of Shetland Folk Festival and I didn’t want to miss it!

After that, the Mae Trio played a twenty minute set, while three little girls danced and spun.

It was a lovely atmosphere, but with only five hours of not-very-good sleep, and with Triar alone in a strange house, I decided we should head back and eat some of that delicious lamb before an early night.

Triar and I were up bright and early the next morning. Unsurprising, I guess, having gone to bed at seven. With Walkfit in mind, we headed out for a morning walk along the road that followed the coastline south. It was beautiful, with the grey rocks, the quiet centre of Lerwick across the bay and the still water under a gentle sky.

In the other direction, lay rocky promontories and islets.

It felt wonderful, walking along that quiet road, going who knows where. Then to cap it all, Triar spotted movement in the water.

To my delight, it was a common seal. Within moments, it hauled itself out of the water and onto a rock, gazing at us as we gazed back.

A thousand steps or so more, we turned to head back. It was breakfast time, after all and still just the start of our Shetland adventure.

And now, back home as I am, I am going to pause there and continue tomorrow. The joiner arrived at 08:23 this morning and is upstairs attaching doors and it’s time for breakfast here too. Tomorrow there will be wartime boats and sunny white beaches, but for now, I’ll leave you with the view from Lindsay’s window and wish you an enjoyable start to the weekend. Thanks for reading.

The Shetland Files

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I had a wonderful week in Shetland. It’s the first time I have visited. Years ago, I might have been daunted by the idea of an overnight ferry, but having travelled on two with Triar, almost a year ago, I was looking forward to it. I had booked a cabin as I wanted a good night’s sleep at the start of my holiday. I retreated there early and spent a comfortable night cocooned in a warm bed as the boat carried me north.

I walked to Lindsay’s house in the morning, where she had cooked me a wonderful breakfast. The house is lovely, warm and welcoming like Lindsay herself, and with an amazing view over the sea. It was at Lindsay’s suggestion that I had decided to go to the Wool Week festival, though my plans had evolved as I had contacted an old friend, who had invited me to stay on her croft on Whalsay. So Melanie joined us, just as Lindsay and I were about to eat and we left together soon afterwards, having arranged to meet Lindsay and the friends who were coming to stay with her, on Wednesday.

The last time I saw Melanie was in 1986. We attended a huge comprehensive school together and mostly met up in the music room and singing in choirs at Christmas concerts. What a strange feeling it was to meet someone at 55 that I hadn’t seen since we were 17, but wonderful all the same. Soon we were catching up on ancient history and all the years in between and it was a great start to my holiday.

She drove me to Jarlshof – an ancient dwelling place, where people had lived from about 5-6,000 years ago, right up until the 1600s. Ancient brochs were superseded by Norse longhouses when the Vikings arrived. Later there was a laird’s house, parts of which were still standing. It would take years to begin to understand the site, but it was fascinating to walk round, trying to imagine those primitive lives, huddling through the long dark winters, before the arrival of glass windows, central heating and electric lights.

We then went to the ruined St Ninian’s Church on St Ninian’s Isle – almost an island, but connected to the mainland by a “sand tombolo” – which is a sandy beach with sea on both sides.

As we headed towards the Whalsay Ferry, it started to rain and a rainbow formed over the landscape, which felt like an omen for a good week to come.

I expected to enjoy writing this entry – and I am as I had a wonderful week – but it struck me as. I paused to make coffee, that back when I left school in 1986, it was stupendously unlikely that I would have caught up with Melanie again. I liked her very much, but we had never been close “at each other’s houses” friends.

Back then, unless you kept up with someone’s address or landline, there was no way to keep in contact. I moved, because my parents moved, and then I went to university. I kept in touch with one friend – Sharon Dickson. We shared a flat for a year at uni. But other than that, it was unlikely I’d catch up with anyone else. If you moved, life moved on. You met new people, only keeping in touch with the closest of friends by phone or letter.

Though the internet is officially understood to have been created in 1983, that’s not something we would have heard of. When I was at school, most of the upper classes (there were 14 classes, each with 30 pupils in my year, so we were streamed) would not have taken “secretarial studies”. Ironic to look back at how that subject was viewed as secondary, as learning to type would have been tremendously useful.

After the internet became more widespread in the early 2000s, I had contact from two “early adopters” who got in touch through Friends Reunited, but until Facebook came along in 2004 (eighteen years after I left school) it was stupendously unlikely I would have accidentally bumped in to Melanie. We both left the town we grew up in far behind. So I guess I have Mark Zuckerberg and co to thank for the way things have turned out.

Having lived in various northern and remote places, I was interested to see what Shetland life was like. As I mentioned before, Melanie lives in a croft on Whalsay, one of the islands that is connected to the Shetland mainland by a ferry. Every time we crossed to the mainland, life was punctuated by that half hour journey.

The time we got up was related to which ferry we would catch. If you didn’t book the ferry, there might not be space and you might have to wait for the next. I was incredibly glad I was being driven around by someone who knew exactly how the whole thing worked, but that punctuation of life – ruled by the comings and goings of a boat – is very different from anywhere I’ve lived.

The croft itself was beautiful: a lovely warm home in that austere landscape, where trees don’t grow, but the sea is all around and the yellowing autumn grass was bounded by drystone walls. There were animals too: otters and seals in the sea, ponies, sheep and goats on the land.

As befits a croft, Melanie and her husband own about twenty sheep. Her husband has part ownership of a sophisticated fishing boat too, and as the week went by, I was privileged to share some traditional food, including a kind of stew of mutton chops, eaten with bannocks – scones cooked on a griddle, rather than in the oven, and also some of the fish caught from the boat. The mutton is served on the island at weddings and it was delicious. Melanie’s husband is a very good cook.

I took some photos of the changing light as the days passed and it was impossible not to fall in love with the place where Melanie has built her life.

Melanie, I and her friend Claire, went out to a few of the classes that made up Wool Week. There were so many of them, and I can’t knit or crochet, but Melanie booked three for us, the first stitching with wool, the second, felting and the third was called Weaving the Landscape.

I haven’t finished the stitching project. It was impossible to do so in the afternoon lesson. I brought back wool though and, if I can borrow an embroidery ring and needles from my mum, I may be able to finish it. The felting class was fabulous. We made otters, and though mine is not anatomically perfect, I was very pleased with my efforts.

Weaving the landscape was also utterly engrossing. It took me all day to create a tiny two inch cloth, but hopefully you can see how inspired I was by the sunset photos of rising mist over the lochan beside the croft.

We met up with Lindsay at the mart on Wednesday , where the sale of Shetland ponies was under way. After that, Melanie and I had lunch with Lindsay and her friends. It was a lovely relaxed occasion. Who could have imagined what 4,000 guineas worth of tiny horse looked like?

All too soon though, the week was over. The weather changed on the last day. I don’t know if you have watched the series, Shetland, but there is a shot in the opening titles, I think, where a small piece of plastic, caught on barbed wire, flutters frantically in the wind, This is my version of that shot! I think the sheets might have dried quickly, even though the temperature had dropped.

The boat was due to leave at five thirty in the afternoon, so I spent a last day with Melanie touring parts of the island. I bought souvenirs and ate the most enormous plate of cod and chips in a cafe in Lerwick.

All too soon, it was time to get back on the boat. I took a few, precious last shots as we sailed away from Lerwick, but my abiding memories are of the warmth of my welcome to the islands and my desire is to go back next year, and do it all again. Thank you Lindsay, for encouraging me to go to Shetland, and most importantly, thank you Melanie for a wonderful week.