Back in the Spring, we had a couple of realisations: 1) there aren’t many places to eat out round here in the evenings (how restful is a self-catering holiday for chef in the family?), and 2) we’ve got a lovely café which doesn’t get much use. So we thought make use of our café
and provide a friendly evening meal, just once a week. We called it 'Tanera Nights' (by mistake).
I’ll admit to having a couple of nightmares at the thought of this. Rich is a Chartered Surveyor; I’m a biologist: we’re not flush with qualifications or experience for large-scale catering.
Nevertheless we seem to have pulled it off and, poised for our sixth full-house, we're gently getting the hang of it. Our 40 eaters are a mixture of guests staying in the Island’s cottages and Coigach residents and visitors ferried over in Patricia from the mainland.
A simple, three course meal is served at two long tables stretching the length of the cafe. The set menu stars wonderful produce from Coigach, as well as organic and / or Fairtrade ingredients wherever possible. After a starter of Badentarbet prawns (or a lovely veggie alternative) and salad from Achiltibuie Garden, the main course might be a Moroccan tagine, a choice of risottos, or a thai curry, accompanied by some nice homemade bread. Rich and I cook one pudding each; my speciality is a rich chocolate cake which involves four large bars of dark chocolate (Fairtrade of course) and 10 eggs. Rich oscillates between an apple and almond sponge cake and a plum pudding. The competition at serving time is intense. Mine wins.
Main course and pudding are served buffet style; queuing up for food enhances the already convivial and informal atmosphere (and allows those desperate for chocolate cake to elbow to the front of the queue). Most weeks we manage to conscript a small army of helpers in the kitchen: our Working Holidayers (first Isla and Pete, then Joy, Mike and their two boys Joseph (6) and Theo (4) and now Wendy and Christopher – all worthy of stories of their own); young hands from the mainland (Joseph, Kelly and Abi) and my dear Mum and Dad have all been amazing. It may be preposterously hard work, but none of my nightmares have come true and it’s brilliant to look out over the cafe – lit with candles and happy faces – and feel the warm, buzzing atmosphere. A couple of times we’ve had some musicians strike up for an impromptu session, but otherwise folk seem quite happy drinking fresh mint tea, grazing on the cheese board and exchanging tales of their Summer Isles adventures until it’s time to climb the path or board the Patricia. And now it’s getting properly dark at night, there are some fine phosphorescence displays on the way home. Wonderful.

I ordered a book from Amazon the other day, ‘How to run a restaurant’. I think I might even read it over the winter, and then who knows what we’ll be up to next year...

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

What a June it’s been! Hard to believe that it’s a month since the arrival of our gang of Working Chums. Seven willing friends hand selected for their knowledge of fauna and flora, love of hard graft, cutting-edge conversation and general resilience to challenging conditions, arrived on Tanera over the late May Bank Holiday for what promised to be a week of achievement, and quite a lot of fun.

And what a start they got off to. Sunday saw the laying out of the first section of a 'Round-the-Island-Path' coupled with a comprehensive clean-up of Tanera's largest beach, Mol Mòr. As the week went on paths were given special attention with drainage channels cleared and improved, halved tree trunks laid as 'duck-boards' in some of the wettest areas and large stones strategically placed to improve the general experience of the main Ard-na-Goine to Rosslyn path.

Several more beaches were relieved of their smothering rubbish: a curiously satisfying and addictive activity. Some of the beaches are a long rough walk from the nearest pier, so the many many bin bags were collected on a calm day, using Patricia and a rowing dinghy for access. The vast majority of the rubbish was plastic, which of course does not biodegrade but just breaks down into smaller pieces. Apparently, in parts of the sea there are now six times more plastic particles than plankton. Marine creatures are eating these fragments, which can’t be good for them or for anyone further up the food-chain. So it was nice to remove a small amount from our own patch.


In between these physical (hot, and sometimes midge-ridden) activities, the chums were on hand in the café to assist with some large half term visits from the Summer Queen, Hectoria and the cruise boat MS Expedition. We were in heaven: seven extra pairs of hands to lighten the load and expedite even the most time consuming jobs. And some of these chums even declared they’d unearthed an unexpected love of washing up. They can certainly come back. Soon.

There was even time for some non-graft activities. We found some excellent snorkelling spots, and discovered that a dry suit is an essential part of any May visitor's swimming wardrobe. Warm rocks, cold seas. Beach fires, fresh scallops and sizzling sausages. Early morning kayak forays and high-adrenalin dare-devil cliff jumping.

By the end of the week exhausted but (we think) happy chums left the Island for the South, with a considerable list of achievements to their name, including:

- Marking out a round-Island path, which now just requires some walking in.... any takers?
- Improvement works to the existing east coast cliff path
- Shifting some large timbers from the wood for pier restoration
- Slick and professional café service to big numbers of May visitors
- The beginnings of a lovely bird guide to give our visitors (initiated by a one-time Young Ornithologist of the Year)
- Collecting approximately one tonne of rubbish from Tanera's beaches
- Eating approximately one tonne of biscuits

But we didn’t have time to miss them too much, because the following day Jules of NorWest Sea Kayaking arrived for our first ever kayaking course, and it’s been non-stop ever since!
Massive thanks to the chums (chumps?) for their tireless endeavour, smiling faces, scintillating conversation and general joy that they brought to Tanera. We’re looking forward to next year already. Are you...?

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

A couple of days ago I was crossing Fuchsia’s beach in the evening sunshine. Some way off, a pair of Greylag geese burst into their usual melodramatic uproar and waddled hurriedly towards the sea. But then I noticed they had good reason to be so noisy: a couple of little greeny-yellow chicks were following them, the low light shining through their fluff giving them glowing halos.

This is just one of the signs that spring sure is here. Our apple tree is blossoming. Red-polls and Twites (boring little brown birds until you get behind binoculars and see their smart stripes and blush-red breasts) are enjoying the dandelion seeds on our un-mown lawn. The Eider ducklings are also emerging. And, at last, the Arctic Terns have returned from their migration to South Africa or even Antarctica and back (this is the longest migration of all birds). I know it’s bad to have favourites, but Eiders and Terns are probably mine. The call of the male Eider is gorgeous: so cosy and warm (forgive the anthropomorphism). The Terns fly beautifully: elegant and nimble, they almost bounce through the air, their wing feathers near-translucent. We’ve only seen Terns fleetingly on Tanera so far this year, but Rich and I kayaked to Isle Ristol before breakfast the other day (luckily down-wind to start with, giving my arms time to wake up) and found them fishing in the shallow turquoise sea over the coral sand. We also saw an otter there, but heard it first: yelping, almost like a distressed oyster catcher, lolloping across some rocks and out of sight. Perhaps it had lost its mother, or maybe got its toenail caught in a particularly awkward clam.

Another notable change is the return of the Summer Queen – the boat which takes visitors daily from Ullapool, out round the back Tanera Mor to have a look at the smaller Summer Isles and (if they’re lucky) some seals and dolphins, and drops people here to walk up the hill, enjoy a cuppa and some homemade sandwiches or cake (Fairtrade, Organic and/or locally produced where possible) in the cafe, and explore our very own Summer Isles stamps.

And the best thing is that, even though birds, trees and people have noticed summer is coming, the midges don’t seem to have noticed yet...
 

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

Today sees the issue of a new set of stamps from The Summer Isles Post Office. The issue is the final in a series of three depicting Tartans and Clan badges emanating from the northernmost parts of mainland Scotland.

This issue is a special Inter-Island issue, meaning that the First Day Covers issued today have travelled via Horse Island prior to arriving at Achiltibuie Post Office before their onward journey.

The issue has been researched and designed by The Summer Isles Philatelic Bureau in association with the Scottish Tartans' Authority and White Peak Design. We all very grateful to all parties for their involvement in the production of this issue.

For further information about today's new issue, including details as to how to place an order, please visit New Stamp Issue: Tartan's of the Far North on the Post Office homepage.

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

The end of last week saw an extremely exciting and symbolic step for Tanera: we erected our first wind turbine. The turbine has been very generously lent by Steve Husband, who also directed the installation process.

This involved citing four corkscrew anchors – no mean feat given the amount of rock and lack of soil on Tanera – and then measuring the distance from each anchor to the centre point, following which Steve applied some advanced mathematics and arrived early the following morning with 4 bundles of cable, exactly the right length and neatly finished off ready for putting in place.

With the aid of a gin pole and a winch the turbine and mast were raised from the ground to a true vertical position. It was a bitterly cold windy day, which seemed as good an omen as any that we were doing the right thing! By lunchtime we had a fully functioning turbine plugged into our battery pack at the south end of the Island.

It’s a Future Energy 1kw upwind turbine (http://www.futurenergy.co.uk/turbine.html) which charges at 48 volts, directly into our battery pack. It’s now been in place for almost a week. The gennie hasn’t yet been forced into retirement, but the turbine is making a difference, albeit small to the overall gennie running hours.

This is really an experiment to see what impact the turbine has and whether more of the same or something bigger and bolder might be the most appropriate next steps. Whatever the answer it’s a hugely important first step and we’re delighted to see it happily spinning round, even in just a gentle breeze. A huge thanks must go to Steve for the loan of the turbine and for undertaking the installation for us.

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

Our kayaks have spent far too much of the winter upside down on the shore, but over the last few weeks they’ve been floating again. It's great to be back on the water, sometimes wrestling with the waves, othertimes just surfing gently down wind. On Easter day, after a barbeque on the beach with family and friends, Rich and I paddled off to some further-afield Summer Isles: Eileen Dubh, to Carn Iar and Bottle Island beyond. Deliciously flat, blue sea. The mountains An Teallach, Ben Dearg and friends still majestic in their ermine coats of snow. A few seals playing grandmother’s footsteps, popping up just a couple of metres from the boats. Sixty or more fulmars crowding off Eileen Dubh’s cliffs, inquisitively circling our boats - they get so close we’re sure they must be daring each other. The Torridonian sandstone of the Islands is incredible stuff; creased, folded, piled like putty, or pancakes. (I'll try to get some better photos...).

We had a dawn paddle last week. Heading off round the southern tip of Tanera into a south-westerly wind tested my pre-breakfast arms, but once we got into the shelter of Tanera Beg it was more than worth it. We rounded the cliffs as the sun burst out from behind the mountains of Coigach, duvets of mist on the low ground between Cul Mòr and Suilven. A very large bird rose and disappeared over the land carrying something smaller in its talons, leaving a patch of little grey feathers on the cliff. (I was sure it was an Eagle, but my ornithological mum thought my description sounded more like a Buzzard. Still, a pretty astonishing sight).

An evening paddle yesterday was just as stunning. Gannets (seeking refuge from stormier conditions in the Minch?) dive from incredible heights. Unfortunately for them, the Skuas are back. These pirates of the skies use their amazing acrobatic skills to chase other birds until they disgorge their food. I suppose I should admire their Darwinian advantage, but they’re just so hefty, dark and menacing. (Their Arctic cousins who breed on nearby Handa Island are daintier, but their name – Stercorarius parasiticus – belies their pretty appearance). We stopped to share a cereal bar and drifted slilently between two rafts of Black Guillemots (or Tysties as they’re known here). Very smart: matt black plumage with bright red legs and, when the two groups whistled softly to each other, a bright red gape.

We feel rather lucky to be here. If you'd like a taste of this wonderful way to explore the islands, you might enjoy a course with Jules of NorWest Sea Kayaking.
 

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

With blazing sunshine, cottages full of happy families and kayaks full of happy paddlers, we were suddenly plunged into a different season last weekend. It was wonderful to see the island being thoroughly enjoyed by so many people, particularly as everything is looking so lovely. Daffodils of all different varieties are shining out all over the place, the willow is bursting with soft downy buds and catkins like dainty little loo brushes.

We also had our first course of the season, and it could not have been better. Jane Wilkinson (ably assisted by her daughter Derry) led seven of us through the elements of weaving a willow shopping basket. There was some awkward grappling with ‘slaths’, ‘bodkins' ‘slipes’ and ‘wales’, but we all got the hang of it under Jane’s patient tuition. Fuelled by homemade bread, soup and cakes, with salad from the Achiltibuie Garden, something recognisable as wicker began to emerge by suppertime on Saturday.

The blissful weather continued on Sunday, and didn’t make it easy to sit still and concentrate; in fact this is ideally an activity for dark, dank conditions because the soaked willow rods need to stay damp to be weavable. But Jane kept us focused on the peaceful, methodical activity, and by around 7pm on Sunday, after two days of gently coercing (and sometimes bashing) wisps of willow into place, seven – quite impressive, we think - baskets were finished and ready to proudly take home.
 

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

I think I might have one of the most absurd journeys to a Yoga class in the UK...but it’s all worth it. Every Thursday through the winter I’ve been carefully assessing the strength of wind all day: will it be safe enough to cross this evening? Then, as evening falls, I bundle myself up in my oilskin jacket and dungarees, my yellow wellies, and a life jacket. Then I trudge round the shore and row the dinghy out to the boat, trying not to soak my Yoga kit. For the first half of winter it was always the ‘RIB’ (Rigid Inflatable Boat – a trusty old coast guard boat, which goes like the wind) but now I more confident driving the slightly more ‘precious’ Patricia, she is my chosen craft; she’s much more fuel efficient, if a little less exciting.

Then the crossing: six minutes in the RIB (finger-and-nose-freezing but exhilarating); 15 minutes in Patricia (more sedate, and warmer). Then mooring up at Badentarbet pier; always a slight struggle to judge the wind and the waves, and then both position the boat and grab the right ropes with no one to help, particularly in the dark. But (as I’m helpfully reminded by the rest of the family!) it’s the best way to learn. After carefully calculating how much the tide will move whilst I’m away, and checking and re-checking the length of the ropes, I’m off up to the car for a five minute drive to the cosy village hall.

But it’s all worth it: to see some other friendly faces (quite a treat in the depths of winter!) and because the classes with Martin are a great mixture of hard work and fun. He has high standards and knows how to encourage us to make the most of our own bodies, whilst being remarkably tolerant of my beginner’s grumbles and giggles. Although he has been practising Iyengar yoga for 20 years and teaching for 13, Martin still travels down to Bath every few months for an intensive lesson to top up his skills, returning with fresh ideas for the classes. After an hour and a half we leave feeling well exercised, refreshed, and peaceful.

Arriving back at Badentarbet pier after the lesson, I hold my breath as check the boat is still waiting for me. No disasters yet. Crossing back over in the dark beneath an inky, starry sky  I’m always on the look-out for Aurora Borealis in the north, but no luck so far... I don’t mind though; the phosphorescent plankton have been glowing in the dark water. Such a miracle.

Guiding the boat back into the harbour in the dark, avoiding other boats and buoys, can be a challenge, but the cottage lights help. By this time I’m pretty hungry and keen to get home, so I have to concentrate quite hard to ensure the boat is moored securely ...it’s always a bit of a relief to see her still there in the morning!

The classes are over now for the Easter break. I’m hoping that with some warmer weather and lighter evenings I might be able to kayak to the mainland for the classes. It might be even more effort, but at least the carbon footprint might be lower.

There are still spaces on our Yoga retreat, from 30th April – 2nd May. Why not come along and experience the combination of west coast beauty and Martin’s excellent tuition?
 

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

Last week, just moments before a heavily snow laden north-easterly gale hit, we put the finishing touches on the new sailing school roof. We now have a clear, dry and weather-proof space to use for the storage of equipment; changing rooms for sailors; an indoor teaching area; and a place to sit eat and lunch and warm up after a morning on the water.
 

The design follows from Steve Husband’s original construction, and indeed utilises the walls he erected back along. We’ve increased the strength and rigidity of the structure with a good number of 4 by 2s and re-sheeted the roof with translucent fibre glass, thus retaining the light and airy feel of the place, but with the added benefit of keeping everything dry!

Come and see it for yourself; weather allowing, we hope to be on the water from early May with the local Coigach kids, from which point we’ll also be offering fun days and the more structured RYA dinghy sailing qualifications and power-boating courses. For more info check out the Sailing School page.
 

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website

The arrival of slightly longer days, combined with a short (!) dry spell brought the decision to return to the wood for some more felling last week. The idea being to fell and clear space for the regeneration (mainly birch) that is coming through, but to clear before the birch gets much bigger and comes into bud, thereby limiting damage to the young saplings. This is also a good time of year to fell; the standing timber is relatively low in sap making it less sticky and lighter to move once felled, and hopefully speeding up the seasoning process.

The end of last week brought two beautiful days, with sun hitting the wood and Tigh-an-Quay for the first time since November. All four of the Tanera team headed round to the wood for a combined effort of cutting, heaving, clearing and stacking. It was my first time tree felling. After watching Bill perform the operation a few times I had a crack on a rather spindly specimen that would have probably obliged with just a stern push. The scientific approach of hinge cutting was however far more satisfying and set me up for some slightly meatier spruces later in the day, all aided by some strong rope pulling from Jean and Lizzie.

By the end of the two days we had a good few stacks of timber at the northern end of the wood. Happily drying out and awaiting the arrival of many hands to lighten the load of man-hauling it to Tigh-an-Quay Pier, before it makies the onward journey to our fireplaces from where it will provide us with heat during the winter of 2011-12.

By Rich

This feed was drawn from the Summer Isles website