St. Kilda
In 1930, the remaining members of the community on Hirta, the main island in the St. Kilda group were evacuated at their own request.
In January 1989, I applied to the National Trust for Scotland to join one of their summer work parties to the island. I was told it would be about a two year wait. However in July of that year, I was offered a cancelled place on one of the archaeological work parties leaving two weeks later.
So, in July 1989, I found myself on board a converted fishing boat leaving from Oban for the twenty-four hour journey to St. Kilda.
Here are some photographs from that trip as a memento for myself, a collection of photos of an extraordinary place and a tribute to the people who struggled to make a living from and a home on, the island.
A lot of memories stay with me from the trip. All standing on the bow of the boat straining for a first sight of the islands. The midnight trip across Carn Mor to ‘see’ the return of the petrels from the days fishing. The removing of a stone to reveal the first sight in possibly a hundred years of the clay floor of the corn drying kiln we were excavating. Leaning at 45 degrees in a howling wind on the cliffs close to the village and the great socialising in the kitchen in the evening, with the members of a terrific work party.
I hope you enjoy the photos.
In January 1989, I applied to the National Trust for Scotland to join one of their summer work parties to the island. I was told it would be about a two year wait. However in July of that year, I was offered a cancelled place on one of the archaeological work parties leaving two weeks later.
So, in July 1989, I found myself on board a converted fishing boat leaving from Oban for the twenty-four hour journey to St. Kilda.
Here are some photographs from that trip as a memento for myself, a collection of photos of an extraordinary place and a tribute to the people who struggled to make a living from and a home on, the island.
A lot of memories stay with me from the trip. All standing on the bow of the boat straining for a first sight of the islands. The midnight trip across Carn Mor to ‘see’ the return of the petrels from the days fishing. The removing of a stone to reveal the first sight in possibly a hundred years of the clay floor of the corn drying kiln we were excavating. Leaning at 45 degrees in a howling wind on the cliffs close to the village and the great socialising in the kitchen in the evening, with the members of a terrific work party.
I hope you enjoy the photos.
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