Scalloway, Shetland

It had been clear for a few days that the weather would improve on the 14th. So where there had been 4 sailing boats in the morning, by midday we were on our own. The English boat La Contenta left for Fair Isle. We also waved off the English and Canadians of Kealoha V, who were heading for the Faroes (we knew them from a rather late night out together). We wanted to leave early the next morning, so that evening we took the cover off the mainsail and got the boat ready.

Cooked a nice dinner, all set to go. And then, around eight in the evening, a German yacht wants to come alongside… okaaay, but be aware that tomorrow we’re heading for Shetland or Fair Isle and may want to leave at 4. OK, fine, so do we, they say. Hmm, so you sail to Westray and then want to lie in the marina in calm weather because you want to leave early again tomorrow? It’s a different way of sailing from ours. Two English yachts also arrived, and they did it our way: nice and quietly at anchor in the bay. Less hassle, and you’re off in no time in the morning, on your own schedule. Then Thomas and Thomas turn out to be véry tidy people who dutifully go ashore to use the toilet… about six times… Oh well. After studying the tidal stream charts a bit more closely, and given that tomorrow would be lovely calm weather, I decided that if we left at 6 we’d have the tide with us all the way to Fair Isle. Told the neighbours: yes, fine, we’ll make sure we leave then too, or be gone already. Older and wiser, I thought: we’ll see about that.

And, I have to hand it to them, just before six they cast off. Auf Wiedersehen, Anke Sophie! Of course we ran into them again at sea, as they turned out to be heading for Fair Isle too. We took photos of them and they of us. Always fun.

By 11 o’clock we were already at Fair Isle. A tiny dot in the sea with about 60 inhabitants, 25 miles south of the rest of the Shetland Islands. We moored against a rather robust quay full of holes, designed to guide the ferry alongside and haul it up to its winter berth. Our guess was that the weather here can occasionally be pretty foul. A ferry goes to “Mainland” twice a week. Shetland’s Mainland, that is. The island is famous for its isolation. There is one shop, and on Mondays you can watch a collective of spinners and knitters making the famous Fair Isle jumpers and, if you find favour with them, order one, which then gets posted to you six months later. It’s also notorious among sailors, because you really only want to be there in nice weather; I wouldn’t want to be lying there in bad weather. A lot of ocean swell can seriously disturb the peace in the harbour. But right now it was lovely, partly cloudy and not too cold, maybe even 12 degrees. We immediately got chatting with the former captain of the ferry, who had come down to the harbour to “urk” (do a lap of the harbour) with his student son. It turned out there was another son who lives and works in Groningen, so thanks to Ella we had an instant connection. Would we perhaps like a lift to the shop? Saves you the walk, they suggested. Of course, we’d love that. Not least because we’d already noticed that it’s fun, for us and for them, to talk to people who live in places like this. On the way the older man chatted away and explained what we were passing: traps for catching seabirds (to eat) and the remains of a Heinkel from the Second World War. Luckily it was a reconnaissance plane, so they took good care of the survivor. He made friends there and came back several times after the war.

Dropped off at the shop, we talked to the owners and someone else who was hanging around. So we’d spoken to almost 10% of the population! We bought something to boost their turnover, pasta and fresh milk. Then we walked a full loop round the island. Unfortunately the museum was closed. And since there’s no other café, pub or restaurant, we couldn’t support those either. Walking back we ran into Thomas and Thomas from the Anke Sophie again; they were looking for puffins but hadn’t seen any yet and were a bit disappointed. Five minutes further on, Ella looked to the right and we were able to take wonderful photos and videos of dozens of puffins! Luckily Thomas and Thomas turned out to have seen them as well later on…

When we got back to the harbour, more and more boats were coming in and on MarineTraffic we could see several more on their way. Since wé would be the ones taking the knocks from that nasty quay, and there’d be no wind at all the next day, ánd it was only two o’clock, the decision was quickly made: on to Mainland. On the way it started pouring with rain and we were once again grateful for the deckhouse. But the tide was against us and the wind was dead astern, so gybing our way downwind we didn’t reach the anchorage until ten o’clock. Lovely, anchoring, when you don’t want to go ashore: drop the hook and done. That was a fine plan for one night, but meanwhile the next depression was already on its way, so the next day, in the forecast lovely weather (lots of sun and 12 degrees), we moved on to Scalloway. The second largest town in Shetland, with about 3,000 inhabitants. The information in the pilot guides varied a bit, but it was clear that the best spot, if there was room, was on the pontoon at the Scalloway Boating Club. When we got there, there was exactly one spot left, and it was perfect for us. Also there were a Frenchman with a German-built boat, a boat we’d seen at anchor in Pierowall, and our 4 friends from Kealoha V again! A quarter of the way to the Faroes they’d turned back after all; it was just too rough. They immediately gave us the lay of the land: no harbourmaster, only by phone. 20 pounds a night, the bus stop is across the road and the club might be open this weekend. Oh yes, and the restaurant over there on the left is fully booked. As happens on a small pontoon, we got talking to the other boats too, and both turned out to be single-handers. 2 out of 4, you don’t see that often. The Breton skipper of Kouign Amann was hard to understand, but Atalanta turned out to be from Guernsey, and her owner Ian was good company, so we took him along to the pub. We had gone to ask at the restaurant Da Haaf anyway, which turned out to be part of the marine college campus, and because there were only two of us and we were off a boat, we were allowed to come on Friday after all. It was delicious; the fish was so fresh it practically swam off the plate. Then again, you’re sitting only a mile from the harbour, where fishing boats were constantly coming and going.

Scalloway turned out to be a really rather pleasant little town, with a couple of pubs (one with an Irish landlord, so Guinness, and the other with a restaurant), a Chinese, 2 shops and a museum. The Scalloway Meat Company is also the greengrocer, deli, hardware store and general store all in one. On a mini scale, mind you. But the meat was superb, and so were the pies. Local history consists of fishing and above all the Shetland Bus, the smuggling of people, radio transmitters and weapons to Norway during the Second World War.

The weekend flew by again, staying indoors and every now and then watching the rain. Fortunately the heater was still working fine. Just as well, because the temperature often didn’t quite reach 10. When the weather cleared up we went for a lovely walk.

On Monday there was finally time to take the bus to the capital, Lerwick, with the big Tesco on the way back. It was supposed to rain, but what the heck. When we got off at the museum it turned out to be closed on Mondays, but by sheer coincidence we ran into Marie-Claire and Dave from La Contenta again, who were able to tell us so. Well then, let’s walk back together, coffee? Yes, lovely. Why not on board? La Contenta turned out to be a beautifully equipped Najad 470 complete with an espresso machine, and they had great stories about all sorts of things. A few hours later we did take our leave rather quickly, because we hadn’t seen the town yet and, truth be told, we were getting a bit peckish… On the high street we came across a restaurant known from the TV series, but of course that was full. Then we had a lovely meal at a small café which, totally bizarrely, was run entirely by French people. Bouillabaisse!

Walked on, raided the bookshop and took a photo of Jimmy Perez’s house, which is indeed the only truly photogenic house in town. It started raining again, so we had another typically Scottish experience on the way to the supermarket. Nearby was the Broch of Clickimin, which of course we went to see. Then the shopping, bags full because Norway is next, and waiting for the bus. Ideal, because the bus stop was literally next to the exit and we got off 20 m from the boat.

The next day we sailed round to yet another beautiful anchorage, in preparation for the crossing to Norway. A bit earlier than planned, but the weather is different from normal, only 1 day with suitable wind was forecast for the coming week, and the weather was not at all nice for going to the more northerly islands of Shetland as I’d originally planned. Besides, after 4 weeks of 12 degrees or colder, we’d had about enough of this weather. There is some sun every week, but count on 5 days of bad weather with rain or strong wind, or both. In the photos it looks quite nice, but that’s because we only went outside when the weather was good!