Year of publication 1990 - Fell and Rock Climbing Club

THE BOTHY ON THE SHOREAngela So perOn the last day of July in our lucky year, Cynthia and I stared outfrom MV St Ola. The Old Man of Hoy was hidden to his waist by a greybeard. Somewhere in the gloom must be Rackwick Bay. Did we reallywant to camp there in such a downpour and wait till it was fit to climb?We had several hours to decide, as the Hoy ferry didn't leave until lateafternoon, so we explored Stromness to find the people friendly, thetown rain-washed clean and the museum fascinating - a pity it closes forlunch. No one offered any hope for dry weather in the foreseeable futureand we concluded that for Orkney "showers and bright periods" meanstorrential downpour with occasional spells of heavy drizzle. Should wevisit Skara Brae instead?But just suppose it clears in the morning and we're somewhere else,we'll be kicking ourselves. Remembering our knack of being in the rightplace at the right time we reached a sufficiently positive frame of mind tojump into the little boat. Before we landed the boatman insisted that weadvise the coastguard of our intentions and he even wrote the phonenumber on a scrap of paper, which we accepted for his peace of mind.First priority, though, was how not to walk the six miles across theisland with our heavy sacks in the pouring rain. No problem, if you'vegot a tongue in your head. The two local cars aren't taxis, but they domeet the boat and will take you from the isolation of the landing stage tothe remoteness of Rackwick Bay for £4. Money well spent, we thought,and better still, our driver pointed out the farthest building from theroad end - "There's a bothy, if you'd prefer not to camp".We squelched towards the long, low building in a walled enclosure."Burnmouth Cottage," said the plaque. "You are welcome to stay freeof charge". It is a fine bothy in its own right: clean, dry and spacious.But the situation! At Rackwick the surf breaks on golden sand. Only thehighest tides reach the stormbeach of pebbles and boulders that screensthe sheep pastures. The burn, now a peaty torrent, meanders down theglen to break through, and the cottage stands on its bank, as near ascould safely be to the sea. There are plenty of stepping stones across theburn to where dunes have built up behind the storm beach and saltlovingplants have taken hold. Very soon red sandstone cliffs, steep butloose, cut off the beach and you have to return to explore the other way.The Old Man of Hoy. Photograph by Angela Soper.22