14 February: Rum day 3

Tide in. Grey lags through window. 

Walking to the woodland to continue with scrub clearing, snowy Skye peaks have magically appeared.

I am starting work a little earlier, to try to free up a chunk of free time later in the day. Holly busting is sweaty work. I throw off the thermal layers, one by one, at one point down to a singlet and looking like a real hard girl.

We start working at different times and, sometimes finding myself on my own, I don’t know whether colleagues are absent because of taking a break or for some other reason. (At other times we are ridiculously communicative, announcing a meal ready on WhatsApp, or responding online to photos we have posted in the same room!)

Late morning, I head back to the bunkhouse, and do a bit of prep cooking for the evening. After lunch, I put another coat of paint on the door. I have lost my loch-side workspace because it has proved too cold for the paint to dry. So I am now in the wood-pellet storage room, a bit of a demotion!

In the afternoon rain closes in. But it doesn’t put off Simon and Leah from venturing into the sea. Alex, egging us on, but a committed non-swimmer, shows us where most people go from: a sandy beach by the old pier. It looks amazing – albeit shallow, making entry into the water agonisingly slow. I will have to crack incipient old age and get in there tomorrow. 

Understanding how the island community functions is a jigsaw puzzle, with a few pieces added each day. Alex is the only salaried member. He is employed by the Community Trust, with a remit to run the bunkhouse at a profit. He employs two people: Jim does the bunkhouse cleaning, and bits of DIY; Derek does the changeovers in the season (reluctantly, we are told), and outdoor work at other times. (He’s also the postman, towing his cargo on a bike.) All other maintenance and environmental work is done by the islanders on a voluntary basis 

Nature Scot, the Scottish government nature agency that owns the island, has an office in the village. (“Village” being the 20 or so scattered dwellings lining the bay.) Amongst other things, the agency is responsible for the seasonal deer culling. We are coming to the end of the period of the hind (female) cull; stags will be taken out later in the year. The venison is taken off the island, but there are rumours that we can buy some from Jim. There is a commercial fish farm somewhere near the island. Despite it being a marine conservation area, Alex says the polluting slurry is allowed to seep into the surrounding waters. Protection in name only.

From mid afternoon onwards we are free to relax. Our devices occupy us for long stretches of time – me as much as anyone, as this blog has hooked me into a significant and enjoyable time commitment. We are also a bit, “please take a photo of me doing…”-ish. However, I don’t find the need to check my phone while working in the woods – which the young ones seem to like to do. 

I am enjoying being surrounded by young energy. But I am luxuriating in now having my room to myself. Re-emerging from some time out I find Scott and Leah engaged in a slow-moving chess game. I finish off supper – clearing the fridge to make the trusted sweet potato pizza. It goes down a storm.