Sailing to the Farne Islands
Rising ominously above the cold North Sea swell, the Farne Islands offer a dramatic contrast to the vast stretches of golden sand beach most notably associated with the Northumberland Coast. Over the centuries, this ragged collection of low lying, weather worn rocks have earned an impressive international reputation. Renowned for the miracles of a Saint, the bravery of a lighthouse keeper’s daughter and the awe-inspiring spectacle of one of the UK’s most impressive wildlife events, this small collection of islands continues to draw attention, and visitors, from all corners of the globe.
It’s a chilly, brisk morning on the coast of Northumberland. The characterful fishing boats at Seahouses harbour bob gently below the great wall of the pier. Above the boats, lined in an orderly, covid-secure succession are today’s day trippers. All are suitably equipped with an armoury of waterproofs, binoculars, and telescopic camera lenses. It’s late July, and the choppy waters off Northumberland lay between us and the pinnacle of one of the UK’s greatest seabird spectacles. A skipper whistles and waves to our group, inviting us to approach the awaiting vessel. Excitement fills the faces of today’s voyagers as, one by one, we clamber down the harbour steps and are given a helping hand onto the deck of Glad Tidings. The boat is small, but solid and seaworthy. It started its life hauling crab and lobster pots following the First World War. Now we animated visitors are its cargo on course to a rather defiant scattering of rocks.
Depending on the state of the tide, between 15-28 of these windswept isles lie between 1 and 5 miles from Northumberland’s coastline. Some have wonderful names, such as Glororum Shad, Staple Island and Knivestone; while others remain unnamed hazardous outcrops only visible above the surface at the lowest point in the tide cycle. The ‘Farnes’, as they’re referred to locally, are the final upthrust of the Great Whin Sill, a tabular layer of volcanic rock which runs across the heart of Northumberland all the way to the Coast. After the end of the last ice age, you might have walked comfortably to these islands from the mainland. Rising sea levels over millennia have since cut them off, making the lively maritime voyage a necessity. Formed of the Whin Sill’s igneous dolerite rock, the islands are typically robust volcanic columns which create spectacular cliffs and sea-stacks up to 20 metres high.
As the last boarding passenger is seated, Glad Tidings is cast off from the restraints of the harbour wall. The old boat navigates a tight two-point manoeuvre before making course to the open seas. Free from the defence of the steadfast harbour walls, the ship embraces the full force of the North Sea swell. The Captain’s broadcast safety instructions appear timely and capture the passenger’s undivided attention. The islands soon come into vision. They appear as dark, flat-topped, treeless landmasses. Some possess a thin covering of scurvy grass, whilst others are stark and lifeless.
The geology, combined with isolation, exposure, and pitiable prospects for eking out an existence, make The Farnes an unlikely choice for human habitation, but in the seventh century monks in search of solitude crossed the undulating inner sound to live on these islands. The most celebrated of these is St. Cuthbert of Lindisfarne who arrived on Inner Farne in 676. Seeking isolation, he built a tiny cell made of stone and confined himself from the rest of the world. Cuthbert lived twice on Inner Farne before and after becoming Bishop of Lindisfarne. On the second occasion in 687, he returned to his adored sanctuary to die.
Since departing from Seahouses harbour, the unmistakeable red and white beacon of Longstone lighthouse can be seen lurking on the horizon, appearing ominous through the hazy sea fret. The 18th century lighthouse is symbolic of the outer-most reaches of the rocky archipelago and sits six miles from the mainland. As Glad Tidings sails through the extremities of the outer Staple Islands, the sea conditions begin to worsen. The boat pitches in the swell as photographers scramble for the perfect shot of the iconic lighthouse. Perhaps unknown to some of the enthusiastic snappers, this is the scene of one of the greatest rescue missions ever undertaken.
During a fierce storm in 1838, a four-hundred-ton paddle steamship crashed into big Harcar Rock, just a mile from Longstone lighthouse. Almost instantly, the vessel broke in two, sealing the fate of forty-two of the sixty passengers who would succumb to the icy North Sea waters that day. From the wreckage, nine survivors managed to scramble onto nearby rocks where they were spotted in the early morning light by 15-year-old lighthouse keeper’s daughter, Grace Darling. In a ferocious Northerly gale and tempestuous seas, Grace and her father William launched an extraordinary rescue mission, rowing almost a mile to reach the scene of the calamity. On their second attempt they succeeded in rescuing the survivors and rowed them back to Longstone for safety and sustenance. As stories of her bravery started to spread, Grace would soon become one of the Nation’s most celebrated heroines. In the years following the famous recue, huge numbers of Victorian tourists would visit the family lighthouse to hear tales of the extraordinary event first-hand. Grace would tragically die of tuberculous just four years later. However, 180 years since, the remarkable legacy of Grace Darling lives on.
As Glad Tidings chugs towards to the towering sea cliffs of Staple Island, the cacophony of sound and avian activity begins to intensify. Squadrons of guillemots zip past the ears, razorbills cling perilously to cliff-edge nests and Jurassic-looking shags eyeball passengers intensely from their commanding position on the rocks. The boat’s excited passengers are then duly greeted by the stars of today’s show. Rafts of unmistakeable Atlantic puffins are spotted bobbing about on the open sea. Drawing closer, a chorus of splashes erupt as a barrage of tiny bodies take to the sky, miniature wings frantically flapping in unison. Intermittently the birds drop beneath the waves, resurfacing sometime later, beaks brimming with sand eels. Returning to land, the birds dive without hesitation into burrows where ravenous pufflings await their first meal of the new day. This spectacle continues without rest for the remainder of the trip, as inconceivable numbers of birds go about their daily routine, fleeting between land and sea. Being surrounded by this much life, in such intimate proximity, must be experienced to be comprehended. As the boat makes course back to Seahouses harbour, smiles beam from ear to ear.
Whilst there is seemingly no end to the intriguing stories of these islands, today, most of the visitors are drawn by the spectacular array of wildlife that continues to thrive on this offshore sanctuary. More than 100,000 seabirds breed on the Farnes during the summer months, with the natural phenomenon reaching its peak in mid-late July. Combine this with one of Europe’s largest resident Grey Seal colonies, and you can understand why David Attenborough once claimed this cluster of islands to be his favourite place to seek nature in the whole of Britain. Today, The National Trust record 24 breeding species on the islands. Of that, the Atlantic puffins, are the Farnes favourite. These comical birds, only ten inches tall, spend most of their lives out to sea, overwintering on the cold oceans. They return to the islands for a brief window each year to breed and raise their young. Once seen, the puffin is seldom forgotten. With its beautiful markings, strikingly coloured bill, and comical walk, it’s hard to resist developing an affection for these charismatic parrots of the sea.
Photography by Callum Thompson - @adventure_cal
