Discovering Whalsay and Skerries

The first time I visited Shetland, I spent six months in the islands. Since leaving, I couldn’t wait to return one day and see it again, this time without the intensity of my long walk around the UK coast. I wanted to experience the archipelago differently: to linger and absorb the spaces and islands I’d always wished I could spend more time on.

In this episode, we venture to the eastern outer isles, visiting Whalsay, before I head even further, to the most easterly point in Scotland: Out Skerries. And you’ll see why they captured my heart.

Known locally as “Da Bonnie Isle,” Whalsay lies seven miles east of the Shetland Mainland. It is an island whose fishing heritage is its beating heart. We were lucky enough to be invited by locals, Malcolm and Gordon, to join them on their boat for a day’s fishing.

Out on the water, we learned about Whalsay’s fishing heritage as a way of life, and Malcolm even showed us a 300-year-old brick salvaged from a Dutch shipwreck near Out Skerries. Kate’s dad, Ian, came along too, and Magnus caught his very first fish.

Safe to say, we returned with a feast of scallops and mackerel that night. There’s nothing more rewarding or delicious than dinner caught fresh out of the sea by your own fair hands!

From there, I made my way to Out Skerries, the most easterly outpost of Shetland and of the whole UK. Its name comes from the Old Norse word, ‘Sker’ meaning ‘rock of the sea’. This cluster of three small islands, Housay, Bruray, and Grunay, truly feels like the edge of the world. With only a few dozen residents, life here feels stripped back, serene and simple.

I couldn’t help but think back to my first visit here, when I passed through during the winter on my coastal walk. This time, I could really take it all in: its low-lying rocks, skerries (small rocky islets), ancient rocks, views of the lonely lighthouse on the now uninhabited Grunay and a coastline scattered with stories of shipwrecks.

More than 200 vessels are said to have met their end in these waters. Walking here, with seabirds above and nothing but the endless seas stretching before me, it’s easy to feel both the fragility and the admirable resilience of this community. Today, with just 30 or so inhabitants, Out Skerries feels like a world away from everything and in our chaotic, fast-paced world, I can see the appeal of life on these isles.

For me, Whalsay and Out Skerries aren’t just beautiful islands – they capture the essence of Shetland. They hold so much of what makes life here unique. The raw, rugged beauty, quiet resilience, deeply rooted history, and a life lived in harmony with the sea.

This summer has been so different coming back with Kate and our son Magnus, spending three months exploring these isles as a family.

I feared my first memories of Shetland would be impossible to match, but I was wrong. Experiencing Shetland together, with time to truly absorb its culture, history, geology, and people, has given us one of the best summers we’ve ever spent.

Now, as we prepare to leave Shetland, I know one thing for certain: wherever we go next, however long it takes before we return, a voice in our heads will always be saying, ‘Come back’.

To Shetland, the beautiful islands and the wonderful people who live here. Thank you for having us.

Until next time…

Chris, Kate & Magnus.