Amy Liptrot's incisive memoir of fleeing London to battle her alcoholism amid Orkney's luminous landscape.
When Amy Liptrot returns to Orkney after more than a decade away, she is drawn back to the Outrun on the sheep farm where she grew up. Approaching the land that was once home, memories of her childhood merge with the recent events that have set her on this journey.
Amy was shaped by the cycle of the seasons, birth and death on the farm, and her father's mental illness, which were as much a part of her childhood as the wild, carefree existence on Orkney. But as she grew up, she longed to leave this remote life. She moved to London and found herself in a hedonistic cycle. Unable to control her drinking, alcohol gradually took over. Now thirty, she finds herself washed up back home on Orkney, standing unstable at the cliff edge, trying to come to terms with what happened to her in London.
Spending early mornings swimming in the bracingly cold sea, the days tracking Orkney's wildlife - puffins nesting on sea stacks, arctic terns swooping close enough to feel their wings - and nights searching the sky for the Merry Dancers, Amy slowly makes the journey towards recovery from addiction.
The Outrun is a beautiful, inspiring book about living on the edge, about the pull between island and city, and about the ability of the sea, the land, the wind and the moon to restore life and renew hope
Credits
Reader Tracy Wiles
Author Amy Liptrot
Abridger Sara Davies
Producer Simon Richardson
Do you enjoy the variety on Oldtuberadio?
Like, Share and Subscribe to be notified of our new shows
#radio #crime #thriller #drama
To Support this channel please visit
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/oldtuberadio
https://ko-fi.com/oldtuberadio98
https://www.patreon.com/oldtuberadio
https://locals.com/Oldtuberadio
When Amy Liptrot returns to Orkney after more than a decade away, she is drawn back to the Outrun on the sheep farm where she grew up. Approaching the land that was once home, memories of her childhood merge with the recent events that have set her on this journey.
Amy was shaped by the cycle of the seasons, birth and death on the farm, and her father's mental illness, which were as much a part of her childhood as the wild, carefree existence on Orkney. But as she grew up, she longed to leave this remote life. She moved to London and found herself in a hedonistic cycle. Unable to control her drinking, alcohol gradually took over. Now thirty, she finds herself washed up back home on Orkney, standing unstable at the cliff edge, trying to come to terms with what happened to her in London.
Spending early mornings swimming in the bracingly cold sea, the days tracking Orkney's wildlife - puffins nesting on sea stacks, arctic terns swooping close enough to feel their wings - and nights searching the sky for the Merry Dancers, Amy slowly makes the journey towards recovery from addiction.
The Outrun is a beautiful, inspiring book about living on the edge, about the pull between island and city, and about the ability of the sea, the land, the wind and the moon to restore life and renew hope
Credits
Reader Tracy Wiles
Author Amy Liptrot
Abridger Sara Davies
Producer Simon Richardson
Do you enjoy the variety on Oldtuberadio?
Like, Share and Subscribe to be notified of our new shows
#radio #crime #thriller #drama
To Support this channel please visit
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/oldtuberadio
https://ko-fi.com/oldtuberadio98
https://www.patreon.com/oldtuberadio
https://locals.com/Oldtuberadio
Category
ðđ
FunTranscript
00:00:00Under wearing helicopter blades, a young woman holds her newborn baby as she is pushed in
00:00:21a wheelchair along the runway of the island airport to meet a man in a straitjacket being
00:00:26pushed in a wheelchair from the other direction. That day the two 28-year-olds had been treated at
00:00:33the small hospital nearby. The woman was helped to deliver her first child. The man, shouting and
00:00:40out of control, was restrained and sedated. Orkney, a group of islands at the north of
00:00:48Scotland, sea-scoured and wind-battered between the North Sea and the Atlantic, has a good provision
00:00:53of services. Hospital, airport, cinema, two secondary schools, a supermarket. One thing
00:01:00it does not have, however, is a secure unit for people certified mentally ill and a danger
00:01:06to themselves and others. If someone is sectioned under the Mental Health Act, they have to be
00:01:11taken south to Aberdeen.
00:01:12This May evening, as I arrive into this island world, my father is taken out of it. My birth,
00:01:21three weeks early, has brought on a manic episode. My mum introduces the man, my dad, to his tiny
00:01:29daughter and briefly places me in his lap before he is taken into the aircraft and flown away.
00:01:35Thirty years later, back on the island again, I shelter beside an old freezer down by some
00:01:50stinging nettles and watch the weather approach over the sea. The waves crashing do not sound
00:01:57very different from the traffic in London. The farm is on the west edge of the main and largest
00:02:04island in Orkney, on the same latitude as Oslo and St Petersburg, with nothing but cliffs and ocean
00:02:11between it and Canada. Each field has a prosaic name, front field or lambing field. The largest of
00:02:20the fields, the outrun, is a stretch of coastland at the top of the farm, where the grass is always
00:02:26short, pummeled by wind and sea spray year round. The outrun is where the ewes and their lambs graze
00:02:33in summer, after they're taken up from the nursery fields. It's where the highland cattle overwinter,
00:02:40running out under the huge sky. This land is the furthest reaches of a farm, only semi-tamed, where
00:02:48domestic and wild animals coexist and humans don't often visit. In a photo of the outrun from the early
00:02:56eighties, I ride on Dad's shoulders, as he and Mum show visiting English friends the desolate seeming
00:03:02land they have bought. Family and friends were surprised and unsure if they could make it work,
00:03:08as were the local Orcadians. They had watched many idealistic southerners move to the islands,
00:03:14only to leave after a couple of winters. It's a windy day. I leave the shelter of the freezer and walk up
00:03:22to the outrun for the first time in years, breathing deeply. I find my favourite place,
00:03:28a slab of rock balanced at a precarious angle at the top of the cliff. I'd come here as a teenager,
00:03:35headphones on, dressed up and frustrated, looking out to the horizon, wanting to escape.
00:03:41From my spot on the stone, I would watch the breakers crash, the gulls and fighter jets flying
00:03:48out over the sea. The outrun is tucked away behind a low hill and beside the coast,
00:03:55and in the right spot, you can't see any houses or be seen from the road. Dad told me that when he
00:04:02was high, in a manic phase, he'd slept out here. At the end of the day, crouched away from the wind
00:04:09beside the freezer again, rolling a cigarette and eyeing the livestock, I've become my father.
00:04:14When I get back from my walk, instead of entering the farmhouse, I go to the machinery paddock and
00:04:21open the door to the caravan where Dad now lives. I was far away when the farmhouse was sold. Dad kept
00:04:28the farm and installed the caravan there for the nights he wasn't staying with his girlfriend,
00:04:33while Mum bought a house in town and rarely visited the farm again.
00:04:37Dad's wearing his outdoor boiler suit, with baler twine and a penknife, always in the pockets,
00:04:45over a jumper that Mum knitted, which he still wears, now patched at the elbows.
00:04:51Did you feel anything up there? he asks, before beginning to tell me, although I've heard it
00:04:56before, about the tremors. Some people on the west coast of Orkney, including Dad, say they
00:05:02experience tremors or booms sometimes, low echoes that seem strong enough to vibrate the
00:05:08whole island, while at the same time being quiet enough to make them wonder if they imagined
00:05:12it. Locals say they have felt the booms over many years, but are unable to identify a pattern
00:05:18to their occurrence. They wonder if it is geographical, man-made, even supernatural, or if it happens
00:05:27at all. It is possible that the booms and tremors are caused by wave action within caves deep below
00:05:34the fields. As a large wave travels into a dead-end cave, it traps and compresses air at high pressure.
00:05:42When the wave retreats, the air bubble explodes, causing a boom.
00:05:47I wonder if other, harder to grasp, even ghostly island forces could be at play.
00:05:53This stretch of coast and beaches has mysteries. Legends of sea monsters, like the huge stir-worm,
00:06:00whose hundreds of teeth fell out and formed the islands of Orkney, Shetland and the pharaohs.
00:06:07Talking to Dad about the tremors, I feel slightly nervous. Our conversations are normally limited
00:06:14to the farm, so hearing him speak about uncanny sensations and strange geology makes me concerned
00:06:22that he might be getting high. Mum taught me to look for the signs. At first it could
00:06:27be exciting, with Dad talking a lot, full of optimism and energy, that this would bubble
00:06:34over into his making impulsive purchases, staying up all night and moving animals at four
00:06:39in the morning. Then, grandiose thoughts, with him feeling he could change time and control
00:06:46the weather. He was fifteen when he was first diagnosed with manic depression, now known
00:06:52as bipolar disorder and schizophrenic tendencies. Since then, periodically, he has ups and downs
00:07:00of varying amplitude. Our family life was rocked by the waves of life at its extremes, by the
00:07:06cycles of manic depression. Once, when I was about eleven, Dad was so ill that he went around
00:07:13the farmhouse, smashing all the windows one by one. The wind flew through the rooms,
00:07:18whisking my schoolwork from my desk. Mum was a capable and caring woman, who had been
00:07:24not much older than me when she found herself with two kids, abandoned on the day she gave
00:07:29birth, and many times after that. She turned to the church when my brother and I were small,
00:07:35and her husband was in a psychiatric ward two hundred miles away. It's perhaps surprising that
00:07:41a manic depressive and a born-again Christian went on to stay together for as long as they
00:07:45did.
00:07:48The rumblings of mental illness under my life were amplified by my mother's extreme religion
00:07:53and the landscape I was born into, the continual, perceptible crashing of the sea at the edges.
00:08:00Ripples were set off the day I was born, and although I moved far away, the seizures I experienced
00:08:08as my drinking escalated felt as if the tremors had caught up with me too. The alcohol I'd been
00:08:14pouring into myself for years was like the repeated action of the waves on the cliffs, and it was
00:08:20beginning to cause physical damage.
00:08:22At eighteen, I couldn't wait to leave. I didn't want to be part of what I saw as a subtle conspiracy
00:08:32to present Orkney as an island paradise. I wanted comfort, glamour, and to be at the centre of
00:08:40things. I didn't understand people who said they wanted to live in the country where they
00:08:44could see wildlife. In the winter, forced into ugly outdoor clothes to help muck out the
00:08:51livestock. I dreamed of the hot pulse of the city.
00:09:02When I moved to London, I threw myself in. Several nights a week, I would get on the bus to the
00:09:09Soho and Shoreditch nightclubs that I'd read about in magazines. I would try out colouring in my eyebrows
00:09:15with red eyeliner, or slashing the back of the dress with scissors, and go down to the bus
00:09:21stop with a bottle. I made friends from online message boards and blogs, and while waiting
00:09:26for the band to come on. We were overgrown children, searching headlong for a good time.
00:09:33With our commutes, and travel cards, and high rents, we had to find new ways to make a community.
00:09:40Each weekend, when the sun shone, we went down to the park, to London Fields.
00:09:44Each weekend was more messed up than the last. We careered around, taking taxis and buying
00:09:52drinks we couldn't afford.
00:09:55When I made it home, I would lie on my bed with the window open. The Afghan shopkeeper
00:10:00downstairs was the only person who had anywhere near an idea how much I drank. As evenings and
00:10:07months progressed, my trips grew more frequent into the shop, where the light through the window
00:10:13was blocked out by fluorescent stars advertising special offers.
00:10:23Recently, back in Orkney, my friend Helga had told me that there is a mysterious vanishing
00:10:28island called Heather Blether, to the west of the island of Rousey. Although some Orcadians
00:10:35claim to have seen it, no one has ever been there. There are many versions of the story,
00:10:41and different myths of imaginary or vanishing islands, often associated with foggy sea conditions.
00:10:48In Orkney, banks of sea mist appear and disappear quickly, perhaps the story's origin.
00:10:55Heather Blether is still enchanted, rising only on rare occasions. Anyone who sees the island
00:11:02should row towards it while holding steel in their hand, always keeping their eyes on the
00:11:09shore. If you are able to set foot on Heather Blether, you will free the island from its spell.
00:11:18When I left Orkney, I'd crossed the boundary not just of sea, but also of imagination.
00:11:25Because I came from an island, London was the fantasy, and London Fields was my Heather Blether.
00:11:31I became accustomed to an unsustainable, enchanted lifestyle of summer days in the park, with
00:11:39beautiful people and intoxicated nights at parties. I didn't expect the spell to be broken,
00:11:47and I didn't want to find my way back through the mist to home.
00:11:51The first time he saw me, I was climbing on top of a phone box. He was a boyish American,
00:11:59with mischievous eyes. I could feel the tremors. Although we didn't talk that night,
00:12:07I found out later that he'd written about me online. He was worried about me, but found me
00:12:13interesting. In those first weeks, I stopped in the pub on the way over to his house, and
00:12:20over a couple of pints, wrote him a letter about how I was scared alcohol would come between
00:12:25us. Back then, he had patience for my tears and blank outs. There were many more weekends
00:12:33and evenings after work in the park, with more and more people turning up. We felt at the centre
00:12:38of things. There was a gold rush of cool to this area of London, everyone afraid of missing out.
00:12:45After I met him, I took him along too, showing off our partnership to the group. I look back
00:12:52at photos from that time, and we're holding each other too tight, every limb and finger
00:12:57entwined, not looking at the camera.
00:13:02Sometimes, a smell in the air would remind me sharply that I was living in England. I yearned
00:13:07for the open skies and grey stone of Orkney. I missed the curlews and oyster catchers, the
00:13:16fulmars noisily defending their nests, the puffins returning from far out to sea, even the black-backed
00:13:24gulls. Sometimes I'd be walking down Bethnal Green Road, surprised by the tears rolling silently
00:13:31down my face.
00:13:44I've heard it said that in London, you're always looking for either a job, a house, or a lover.
00:13:49I didn't realise how easily and how fast I could lose all three.
00:13:56It wasn't the break-up that tipped my drinking out of control, although I used it as an excuse.
00:14:02While I was still living with my boyfriend, I went to a friend's birthday party in a bar.
00:14:08I left after an hour or so, saying I was tired, when in fact I was going home to drink alone
00:14:14at a faster pace than the drinks were coming there. That evening I chose alcohol over friends
00:14:20and had crossed a line. After this I crossed lines quicker and quicker, choosing to drink,
00:14:28despite warnings from work, doctors, family and the law.
00:14:33I scanned the internet, blank-eyed for a solution that was not forthcoming.
00:14:38I cycled round East London aimlessly. I was running out of options.
00:14:44One night, I had a moment, just a glimpse, when I saw a sober life could not only be possible,
00:14:54but full of hope. Dazzling. I held on to that vision and told myself this was my last chance.
00:15:01If I didn't change. There was nowhere else for me to go, but into more pain.
00:15:17On my belly, on the floor, back arched, arms stretched behind, fingers locked,
00:15:24I was trying to hold my breath.
00:15:26The teacher, attempting to put us in touch with our primal selves, said,
00:15:31you were born to do this.
00:15:34And my pose collapsed in laughter with everyone else.
00:15:38A particularly difficult move had to be repeated 30 times,
00:15:42but the teacher promised, by the end you'll be flying.
00:15:46Addicts all. We chased that high.
00:15:48Had all my life been leading up to doing kundalini yoga with a bunch of addicts
00:15:56in various states of physical disrepair and mental anguish on an institutional carpet?
00:16:03When I was younger, it was not my plan to be in rehab when I turned 30.
00:16:08This time I decided to put sobriety first.
00:16:11I saw my doctor and was referred to a drugs and alcohol advisory service.
00:16:15I drank heavily in the fortnight leading up to starting the programme
00:16:20and called my doubtful family while half-cut to explain my plans.
00:16:25When I told Dad I was doing this for three months,
00:16:28he was sympathetic and said,
00:16:31I've spent three years of my life in psychiatric care.
00:16:35I hope it's less for you.
00:16:38I was often confused and upset about how I'd ended up there.
00:16:42I was a girl on a farm on an island
00:16:46and I'd woken up to find it was 12 years later
00:16:49and for some reason I was in a rehabilitation centre in London
00:16:53with a group of misfits drinking tea from chipped mugs.
00:16:57We went into detail about our pasts
00:17:00and I shared dark and shameful things I'd never told anyone else.
00:17:04Well, we all did.
00:17:06And it created trust and a bond between us,
00:17:10unlike anything I'd experienced before.
00:17:11Unlike drunken confidences and late-night conversations,
00:17:16I could remember these the next day.
00:17:20I knew that everything good happening in my life,
00:17:24regaining the trust of my family,
00:17:26possibilities of new work,
00:17:28a slight confident step,
00:17:30was reliant on me staying sober.
00:17:33I had to stay vigilant.
00:17:34I thought about drinking all the time.
00:17:38It was there,
00:17:39at the back of my mind,
00:17:41like tinnitus,
00:17:42with regular, intense cravings
00:17:44shooting through my body.
00:17:48Back in my bedsit,
00:17:50on Friday and Saturday nights,
00:17:52I tensely smoke out of the window,
00:17:54listening to the pub downstairs,
00:17:56wondering if this was all there was to sobriety.
00:17:59I was fit,
00:18:01healthy,
00:18:01clean,
00:18:02and home alone again,
00:18:04all weekend,
00:18:05too scared to go anywhere.
00:18:07If this was the future,
00:18:09I didn't want it.
00:18:12I was speaking to my parents more.
00:18:15Dad needed some help on the farm,
00:18:16and Mum encouraged me to come up for a visit.
00:18:20Although it was nearly winter,
00:18:22a short time in the island air,
00:18:24while I was applying for jobs,
00:18:26might help me regain my strength and appetite.
00:18:29I agreed with Mum that some space would do me good,
00:18:32but part of me,
00:18:34the addict,
00:18:35had other ideas.
00:18:37Going back to Orkney would be a test.
00:18:40If I got to a year sober,
00:18:42still hadn't found decent work,
00:18:43and still felt frustrated,
00:18:45I would get an anonymous job somewhere,
00:18:48maybe as a cleaner,
00:18:50move into another rented room,
00:18:52cut myself off,
00:18:53and just drink.
00:18:56It would feel so good to give in.
00:19:06On my last trip home,
00:19:08I spent the entire seven-hour ferry journey in the bar,
00:19:11and had to be helped off the boat by strangers.
00:19:13This time,
00:19:15I am able to stand out on deck,
00:19:18as the ferry arrives into Kirkwall around midnight,
00:19:22feeling the salty wind on my face,
00:19:24as the lights of the harbour grow closer in the night.
00:19:28When Mum meets me,
00:19:29I see her relief.
00:19:33I've got a fresh start,
00:19:34but I'm not sure what to use it for.
00:19:38So,
00:19:38I'm going to make myself useful,
00:19:41helping Dad,
00:19:42building walls in the short hours of daylight,
00:19:45and staying in his caravan at night.
00:19:46A dry stone dike is actually two walls,
00:19:53built to be flat on the outer faces,
00:19:55joined at the top by large linking stones,
00:19:58and filled in the middle with smaller loose ones.
00:20:01The stones are heavy and ancient,
00:20:03and modern technology seems flimsy.
00:20:06I start to think in decades and centuries,
00:20:09rather than days and months.
00:20:11I'm repairing these dikes
00:20:14at the same time as I'm putting myself back together.
00:20:17I am building my defences,
00:20:19and each time I don't take a drink when I feel like it,
00:20:23I am strengthening new pathways in my brain.
00:20:26I have to work with the stones I've got,
00:20:28and can't spend too long worrying
00:20:30if I'm making the perfect wall.
00:20:32I just have to get on with placing stones.
00:20:34It's not until later that spring
00:20:44that I see my first living cessations,
00:20:47the names for whales, dolphins and porpoise.
00:20:50On a small, rigid, inflatable boat,
00:20:53returning from the uninhabited island of Coppensy,
00:20:55we are suddenly among a pod of harbour porpoise.
00:21:00The captain cuts the engine,
00:21:01and they surface intermittently.
00:21:04Six or ten of them.
00:21:06Close enough that we can hear them breathe.
00:21:09I'd always known that the porpoise were out there,
00:21:12but to see and be among them
00:21:13is more moving than I'd imagined.
00:21:16An unexpected bonus
00:21:17at the end of a magical trip on the tiny island.
00:21:23Around the north of Scotland
00:21:25lie many uninhabited islands,
00:21:27abandoned in the mid-twentieth century,
00:21:29when the forces of depopulation
00:21:31reach such strength
00:21:32that the last residents
00:21:33could no longer cling on.
00:21:36Coppensy is a mile long
00:21:38and half a mile wide
00:21:40to the east of the Orkney archipelago.
00:21:43Its population reached a peak of 25 in 1931,
00:21:47but the last residents
00:21:48left for Orkney mainland in 1958.
00:21:51I'd travelled to spend the night in Coppensy
00:21:55with seabird researchers,
00:21:56Juliet and Yvonne,
00:21:58who were going there to study
00:21:59the fulmar, shag, kittiwake, and razorbill.
00:22:03The island is now a bird reserve,
00:22:06home in the summer
00:22:07to thousands of nesting seabirds.
00:22:09There are no scheduled ferries to it,
00:22:11and we make the forty-minute journey
00:22:13on a small vessel
00:22:14with the local boatman,
00:22:16who moors the boat
00:22:17at Coppensy's crumbling jetty,
00:22:19overlooked by a derelict farmhouse.
00:22:22In an upstairs bedroom,
00:22:23I pitch my tent,
00:22:25deciding to sleep in there for warmth
00:22:26rather than outside in the wind.
00:22:29The house is startlingly similar
00:22:31to the one I grew up in,
00:22:33a late nineteenth-century Orkney farmhouse
00:22:35built on the site of previous steadings.
00:22:37The groats were the last family on the island
00:22:41and had thirteen children.
00:22:44Under the decaying stairs,
00:22:45I find coat pegs marked with their names.
00:22:48There are still beds and other furniture
00:22:50in the house that the family left.
00:22:53The lighthouse,
00:22:54the only other dwelling on the island,
00:22:56was automated in 1990.
00:23:00As much as it is bleak,
00:23:02Coppensy is also dizzyingly beautiful.
00:23:04To the north is the even smaller,
00:23:08inaccessible island,
00:23:09the Horse of Coppensy,
00:23:11the Norse like to zoomorify small islands,
00:23:14with cliffs rising straight out of the sea.
00:23:18A flock of more than fifty puffins
00:23:20is swimming near the coast,
00:23:22with moor perched on the clifftop
00:23:23among the sea pinks.
00:23:25The view from the clifftop,
00:23:27back down the steeply sloping island
00:23:28to the farmhouse,
00:23:30across a curving tidal causeway,
00:23:32is one of the best in Orkney.
00:23:34Until around 1914,
00:23:39brave and hungry islanders
00:23:40took part in fowling on Coppensy,
00:23:43catching seabirds from the cliffs
00:23:44for their flesh, eggs and feathers,
00:23:47known as swappin' for ox,
00:23:49in Orcadian dialect.
00:23:51These days,
00:23:52the birds are caught
00:23:53only for conservation research.
00:23:55I go out with Juliet and Yvonne
00:23:57around Coppensy's cliffs and geos,
00:23:59looking for birds.
00:24:00They catch shags
00:24:02by extending an eight-foot fishing pole
00:24:04down the cliff to their nests.
00:24:07Yvonne loops the bird
00:24:08in a kind of noose,
00:24:09lifts it and passes it up to Juliet,
00:24:12who grapples it,
00:24:13flapping and honking.
00:24:14A GPS tag is carefully
00:24:16taped to the feathers on its back,
00:24:17and over the next few days,
00:24:20every hundred seconds,
00:24:21the tag will communicate
00:24:22with satellites
00:24:23and plot the shag's location.
00:24:27Being on a small island
00:24:28brings a strange mixture
00:24:30of freedom and confinement.
00:24:32A year ago,
00:24:33I was in rehab in London.
00:24:35Now I'm lying star-shaped
00:24:37in the centre of the helicopter pad,
00:24:39built to service the lighthouse,
00:24:40on an uninhabited island
00:24:42in the North Sea,
00:24:42and Bonksy's,
00:24:44the Arcadian name
00:24:45for great skewers,
00:24:46fly above me.
00:24:49I walk back down the hill,
00:24:50fall asleep for an hour
00:24:51in a sheltered spot
00:24:52by the bay,
00:24:54and dream of being
00:24:54a seabird on a high ledge.
00:24:58I'm still in Orkney
00:24:59as spring approaches,
00:25:01and decide I will stay
00:25:02a bit longer on the farm
00:25:03as Dad's lambing assistant.
00:25:05The job applications
00:25:06I've sent with dwindling enthusiasm
00:25:08to London
00:25:08have been unsuccessful,
00:25:10and I realise
00:25:12I'm also a little scared
00:25:13of returning.
00:25:15Being on the island,
00:25:16on the farm,
00:25:17has seemed to help me
00:25:18stay safe and sober.
00:25:20By not drinking
00:25:21one day at a time,
00:25:22I have now been sober
00:25:23for more than a year,
00:25:25something back then
00:25:26I could not have believed
00:25:27would happen.
00:25:29Between the lambs,
00:25:30there are other jobs,
00:25:32building up more broken dyke,
00:25:33cutting down rogue thistles,
00:25:35feeding the poultry
00:25:36that peck around the farmyard.
00:25:38It's only lately
00:25:39I've been able to see
00:25:40beyond the dirt
00:25:41and hard work
00:25:42to some of the benefits
00:25:43of the farming lifestyle.
00:25:46At school,
00:25:47the question wasn't
00:25:48which football team
00:25:49you supported,
00:25:50but which make of tractor
00:25:51was your favourite.
00:25:52But I never joined
00:25:53the young farmers.
00:25:55I read music
00:25:56and fashion magazines
00:25:57and American novels.
00:26:00Now,
00:26:01browsing the internet
00:26:02in my tea break,
00:26:04still in my padded boiler suit,
00:26:06I suddenly feel frustrated,
00:26:07like I did
00:26:09when I was a teenager.
00:26:10I want to wear a dress
00:26:12and go into town,
00:26:13but I can't.
00:26:16Reluctantly,
00:26:17I begin looking
00:26:18in the situation's
00:26:19vacant page
00:26:20of the Arcadian
00:26:20each week.
00:26:22I spot an advert
00:26:23for a summer job
00:26:24working on a bird
00:26:25conservation project,
00:26:26and although I was
00:26:28pretty sure
00:26:28I'd be back
00:26:29in my real life
00:26:30in London
00:26:30before long,
00:26:32something about it
00:26:33appealed to me.
00:26:33I thought it wouldn't
00:26:36hurt to send off
00:26:36an application.
00:26:46It's 2am
00:26:47on a Friday night,
00:26:49and I'm alone
00:26:49down a farm track,
00:26:51dancing in the glow
00:26:52of my headlights,
00:26:54because I heard
00:26:54the call I know
00:26:56belongs to a medium-sized
00:26:57endangered brown bird.
00:26:59Unexpectedly,
00:27:01I got the job
00:27:02working on the
00:27:03Corncrake Initiative,
00:27:04a long-running
00:27:05conservation project,
00:27:06and rather than
00:27:07return to London,
00:27:09signed a contract
00:27:09for a summer
00:27:10in Orkney.
00:27:13Corncrakes,
00:27:14sometimes known
00:27:14as landrails,
00:27:16are similar in size
00:27:17and shape
00:27:17to moorhens,
00:27:18but brown,
00:27:19with a ginger wing
00:27:20and pink beak,
00:27:21inhabiting farmland
00:27:22rather than wetland.
00:27:24At one time,
00:27:25they were common
00:27:26across the whole
00:27:27of the UK.
00:27:27Now they are found
00:27:29only on the
00:27:30Western Isles
00:27:30and Orkney.
00:27:32The main reason
00:27:33for the decline
00:27:33is increasingly
00:27:34mechanised farming
00:27:36methods.
00:27:37Most Corncrakes
00:27:38live in fields
00:27:39intended for hay
00:27:40or silage,
00:27:41and when the
00:27:42big grass moors
00:27:43come to cut the grass,
00:27:44the birds move
00:27:45away from the moor
00:27:46into the ever-decreasing
00:27:47area of uncut grass
00:27:49and are eventually
00:27:50caught in the middle
00:27:51of the field
00:27:52and mown down
00:27:53on the final swathe.
00:27:55My job
00:27:56is to locate
00:27:57every calling
00:27:58male corncrake
00:27:59in Orkney,
00:28:00only the males
00:28:01call.
00:28:03I appeal
00:28:03for public
00:28:04reports,
00:28:05asking people
00:28:06to call my
00:28:06corncrake hotline
00:28:08if they hear one.
00:28:09The sound
00:28:10is like a
00:28:11credit card
00:28:12being scraped
00:28:13over a comb,
00:28:14or like the
00:28:14corncrake's
00:28:15onomatopoeic
00:28:16Latin name,
00:28:17crex crex.
00:28:19Corncrakes
00:28:20call throughout the
00:28:21night,
00:28:22peaking between
00:28:22midnight and
00:28:233am,
00:28:24when the males
00:28:25are at the centre
00:28:25of their territories.
00:28:27I leave the house
00:28:28around 11,
00:28:29nightclub time,
00:28:30dressed in warm
00:28:31layers,
00:28:32having filled my
00:28:32thermos with coffee
00:28:33rather than wine,
00:28:35and made sure
00:28:35my phone is charged.
00:28:38Concrates are elusive.
00:28:40I stop every
00:28:40250 to 500 metres,
00:28:43wind down the windows,
00:28:44and listen for
00:28:45two minutes.
00:28:46In the weeks
00:28:47around midsummer
00:28:48in Orkney,
00:28:49it barely gets
00:28:50dark overnight.
00:28:51The time
00:28:52between sunset
00:28:53and sunrise
00:28:53is known as
00:28:55the Simmer Dim,
00:28:56or the Grimlins,
00:28:57from the old
00:28:58Norse word
00:28:58Grimla,
00:28:59which means
00:29:00to twinkle
00:29:00or glimmer.
00:29:02Even at 1am,
00:29:03the birds are
00:29:04going bonkers.
00:29:06I note down
00:29:07unfamiliar calls
00:29:08to ask my
00:29:09knowledgeable colleagues
00:29:10back in the office.
00:29:12Creaking bed springs,
00:29:14haunted chicken.
00:29:16They inform me
00:29:16that the
00:29:17shivery baby goat
00:29:19sound I hear
00:29:20is snipe drumming,
00:29:22an eerie,
00:29:23memorable wobble
00:29:24made by its
00:29:25tail feathers.
00:29:27At times
00:29:27I'm scared,
00:29:29down an unfamiliar
00:29:30country road
00:29:31alone at night,
00:29:32shocked by a
00:29:33scarecrow.
00:29:34I'm connected
00:29:35to the world
00:29:36through my phone,
00:29:37online maps
00:29:38helping me navigate
00:29:39in the dark.
00:29:40On Friday
00:29:41and Saturday nights,
00:29:42I think about
00:29:42what my friends
00:29:43are doing back
00:29:44in London,
00:29:45reading their
00:29:45drunken tweets
00:29:46before they delete
00:29:47them in the morning.
00:29:47As I drive,
00:29:51I try to unpick
00:29:52what happened.
00:29:53All the houses
00:29:54I've lived in,
00:29:55the lost jobs,
00:29:56the treatment centre,
00:29:58my aching heart.
00:30:00At first,
00:30:01I counted the days
00:30:02I had been sober,
00:30:03then the weeks.
00:30:05Now it's just
00:30:05the months,
00:30:06and the cravings
00:30:07come less frequently,
00:30:09but they still come.
00:30:11Driving home
00:30:12in a beautiful dawn,
00:30:14the only person
00:30:15on the road,
00:30:16listening to
00:30:16Happy Hardcore,
00:30:17I feel like
00:30:19the Queen of Orkney.
00:30:22Then suddenly
00:30:23all I want
00:30:23is a bottle of wine,
00:30:25and it's a good thing
00:30:26the island has
00:30:27no 24-hour
00:30:28off-licences.
00:30:30Once I've located
00:30:31the corncrakes,
00:30:32I visit the landowners.
00:30:35Older Orcadians
00:30:36tend to refer to women,
00:30:37regardless of
00:30:38marital status,
00:30:39as wives,
00:30:41so,
00:30:41arriving at farms
00:30:42to speak to farmers
00:30:43about the endangered
00:30:44birds on their land,
00:30:45I am announced with
00:30:46The corncrake wife
00:30:48is here.
00:30:50The reserve
00:30:50offers the farmers
00:30:51money to delay
00:30:52cutting or grazing
00:30:53the grass,
00:30:54or to mow in a
00:30:55corncrake-friendly pattern
00:30:57from the inside
00:30:57of the fields
00:30:58outwards,
00:30:59giving the birds
00:30:59more of a chance
00:31:00to escape.
00:31:02Every farmer
00:31:03is willing to discuss
00:31:04the options with me,
00:31:05and most are able
00:31:06to change the mowing
00:31:07pattern.
00:31:08No one flat-out
00:31:09refuses.
00:31:10That's not really
00:31:10the Orcadian way.
00:31:11Some just say
00:31:13they'll think about it.
00:31:14Then I never hear back.
00:31:17I learn as much
00:31:18as I can
00:31:18about this one species.
00:31:20I set an internet alert
00:31:21for corncrake references
00:31:23in the world's media.
00:31:25Somehow,
00:31:26this bird
00:31:27has become my thing.
00:31:29I heard
00:31:30that in June 2011,
00:31:3250 adult male
00:31:33corncrakes
00:31:34were caught
00:31:35on the Hebridean
00:31:35island of Col,
00:31:37lured into nets
00:31:38by a taped call
00:31:39of what they thought
00:31:40was a rival male.
00:31:42Geolocators,
00:31:43weighing less than a gram,
00:31:44were attached to their legs
00:31:45on plastic rings.
00:31:47The following summer,
00:31:48some of the birds
00:31:49were re-caught,
00:31:50and their tags revealed
00:31:52that they had travelled
00:31:53all the way
00:31:54to the Democratic Republic
00:31:55of the Congo
00:31:56in Central Africa.
00:31:58This seems
00:31:59incredible.
00:32:01In Scotland,
00:32:02corncrakes
00:32:03are reluctant
00:32:03to fly at all,
00:32:05which is what makes
00:32:06them so vulnerable
00:32:07to farm machinery.
00:32:09There is even
00:32:09local folklore
00:32:10about them going
00:32:11underground
00:32:12instead of migrating,
00:32:14turning into moorhens,
00:32:15or perhaps
00:32:16riding on other
00:32:17birds' backs.
00:32:18But fly they do,
00:32:20although
00:32:20just 30%
00:32:22of adults
00:32:22survive the migration
00:32:24to return to Orkney
00:32:25the following year.
00:32:28One night,
00:32:28I realise
00:32:29I'm feeling easier
00:32:30and more normal.
00:32:32Even lucky
00:32:33to live and work
00:32:34here in Orkney.
00:32:35This is a different
00:32:36kind of nightlife.
00:32:38The life I had
00:32:38in the city
00:32:39parties and clubs
00:32:41is no longer
00:32:42there for me.
00:32:43But these
00:32:43nevernights,
00:32:45marking off-grid
00:32:46references
00:32:46and following maps
00:32:48in the mist,
00:32:49they are my own.
00:32:50I've found no
00:32:51corncrakes tonight,
00:32:53but dawn is coming.
00:32:55I've got a flask
00:32:55of coffee
00:32:56and I can hear
00:32:57seals.
00:32:59Then,
00:33:00just after
00:33:01three a.m.,
00:33:03something unexpected
00:33:04happens.
00:33:06It's just a moment,
00:33:08but there it is,
00:33:10in the road,
00:33:11right in front of me.
00:33:14Running into
00:33:15the grass verge,
00:33:15its image,
00:33:16the pink beak
00:33:17and ginger wing,
00:33:18keeps darting
00:33:19through my mind,
00:33:20my first
00:33:21and only
00:33:22corncrake sighting.
00:33:25Usually dawn
00:33:26comes slowly,
00:33:28but tonight
00:33:28I drive out
00:33:29of a cloud
00:33:30and suddenly
00:33:32it's a new day.
00:33:35After the
00:33:35corncrake season
00:33:36finishes
00:33:36and they have
00:33:37migrated back
00:33:38to Central Africa,
00:33:39I choose to go
00:33:40even further
00:33:41from the city.
00:33:42I'm spending
00:33:43the winter
00:33:43on Papa Westry,
00:33:45known as Pappy,
00:33:47the most
00:33:47northwesterly
00:33:48and one of the
00:33:49smallest inhabited
00:33:50Orkney Islands,
00:33:51just four miles long
00:33:53by one mile wide
00:33:54with seventy residents.
00:33:57The house
00:33:58I'm staying in
00:33:59on Pappy
00:33:59is named
00:34:00Rose Cottage
00:34:01for its lurid
00:34:02pink paint job.
00:34:04It's at the
00:34:04narrowest part
00:34:05of the island,
00:34:06just five hundred
00:34:06metres from each
00:34:07side to the sea.
00:34:09Through the two
00:34:10windows in the
00:34:10kitchen,
00:34:11facing south
00:34:12and east,
00:34:13I can see the
00:34:13water surrounding
00:34:14the island
00:34:15on three sides.
00:34:18Having my own
00:34:18place again
00:34:19is a risk.
00:34:20This would be
00:34:20the perfect location
00:34:21to do some
00:34:22solitary drinking.
00:34:24While I was the
00:34:24corncrake wife,
00:34:25I was busy
00:34:26and professional
00:34:27and rarely
00:34:28mentioned what
00:34:28had happened
00:34:29to me
00:34:29in the
00:34:29previous few
00:34:30years.
00:34:32Here,
00:34:32I have time
00:34:33and space,
00:34:35so I'm able
00:34:35to let myself
00:34:36think about
00:34:37how and why
00:34:38I made the
00:34:38decisions I did
00:34:39and in particular
00:34:41what made me
00:34:42realise that
00:34:42opting for
00:34:43rehab and
00:34:44total sobriety
00:34:45was not
00:34:46an overreaction.
00:34:47Although I
00:34:56know the
00:34:56attack back
00:34:57in London
00:34:57over a year
00:34:58ago wasn't
00:34:59my fault,
00:35:00it wouldn't
00:35:01have happened
00:35:01if I hadn't
00:35:01been so drunk.
00:35:03I'd been
00:35:04drinking all
00:35:05through the
00:35:05day before
00:35:06going to a
00:35:06warehouse party.
00:35:08As I stumbled
00:35:09back in the
00:35:10vague direction
00:35:11of my brother's
00:35:12house where I
00:35:13was sleeping
00:35:13on the sofa,
00:35:14a car stopped
00:35:15beside me
00:35:16and although
00:35:17I can't
00:35:18remember exactly
00:35:18what he said,
00:35:20the driver
00:35:20asked me to
00:35:21get in
00:35:21and I did.
00:35:24I remember
00:35:24having some
00:35:26kind of mundane
00:35:27conversation about
00:35:28the best routes
00:35:28and I think I
00:35:30asked to be
00:35:30taken home.
00:35:32Then the driver
00:35:32of the car
00:35:33punched me in
00:35:34the face as
00:35:34hard as he
00:35:35could.
00:35:36I knew I
00:35:36had to escape.
00:35:38I opened the
00:35:38car door but
00:35:39we were still
00:35:39moving.
00:35:40He stopped,
00:35:42picked up a
00:35:42large heavy
00:35:43boot from the
00:35:43footwell and
00:35:44hit me over
00:35:45the back of
00:35:45the head.
00:35:47I knew with
00:35:47no doubt that
00:35:48he wanted to
00:35:49knock me out
00:35:49if not kill
00:35:50me.
00:35:51He began
00:35:52dragging me by
00:35:53my ankles into
00:35:53the park towards
00:35:54some trees.
00:35:56He was not a
00:35:57big man and
00:35:58didn't have a
00:35:58weapon.
00:36:00Although I'd
00:36:00never experienced
00:36:01violence like that
00:36:02before, childhood
00:36:04play fights with my
00:36:05brother came back
00:36:05to me and I
00:36:07knew I had a
00:36:07chance of
00:36:08overpowering him.
00:36:09I screamed for
00:36:10help and shouted,
00:36:12I am stronger
00:36:12than you,
00:36:13I am stronger
00:36:14than you,
00:36:15kicking and
00:36:15struggling as
00:36:16he tore at
00:36:17my tights.
00:36:18I saw three
00:36:19men coming
00:36:20towards me.
00:36:21Moments later,
00:36:22it seemed,
00:36:23we were surrounded
00:36:23by flashing lights
00:36:25and people and my
00:36:26attacker had gone.
00:36:27Last midwinter, soon
00:36:34after I returned to
00:36:35Orkney, I began to
00:36:36be interested in
00:36:37astronomy.
00:36:39The long winter
00:36:39nights, combined
00:36:40with the lack of
00:36:41light pollution and
00:36:42the open landscape
00:36:43without trees, tall
00:36:44buildings or mountains,
00:36:46make it an ideal
00:36:47location for
00:36:48stargazing.
00:36:49Under certain
00:36:50conditions, the
00:36:51Andromeda galaxy can
00:36:52be seen by the naked
00:36:53eye from here,
00:36:54something only
00:36:55possible in places
00:36:56with really dark
00:36:57skies.
00:36:59One evening, I
00:37:01went to the first
00:37:01ever gathering of
00:37:02the Orkney
00:37:03Astronomical Society.
00:37:05Since then, I've
00:37:06been outside at
00:37:07nights, taking my
00:37:08astronomy stance.
00:37:10Head back, mouth
00:37:11open, getting
00:37:12dizzy.
00:37:14In mid-December
00:37:14each year, the
00:37:15Earth passes through
00:37:16a cloud of debris
00:37:17left by an asteroid
00:37:18called 3200
00:37:20Phaethon.
00:37:21When tiny pieces of
00:37:22dust and ice from
00:37:23this cloud hit the
00:37:25Earth's atmosphere at
00:37:26around 134,000 miles
00:37:28per hour, they burn
00:37:30up to create what we
00:37:31know as shooting
00:37:32stars.
00:37:34But of course, they
00:37:34aren't stars at all.
00:37:36Meteors are what we
00:37:37see as shooting stars,
00:37:39ablating as they
00:37:40collide with the
00:37:41atmosphere, creating
00:37:42this annual
00:37:43Geminid meteor
00:37:44shower.
00:37:46On Pappy, one
00:37:48night around 11.30
00:37:49p.m., I take a
00:37:51chair and a duvet
00:37:51into the garden,
00:37:53lean back and
00:37:54fill my gaze with
00:37:55sky.
00:37:57I've turned out
00:37:58all the lights in
00:37:59the house, even
00:38:00closing my laptop so
00:38:01nothing spills
00:38:02outside.
00:38:04I scan the Milky
00:38:05Way with binoculars.
00:38:07In half an hour, I
00:38:08see 19 meteors,
00:38:10leaving streaks of
00:38:11brilliant light just
00:38:13for a second.
00:38:16This year also
00:38:17sees a solar
00:38:18maximum.
00:38:18the period of
00:38:20greatest activity in
00:38:20the sun's 11-year
00:38:21cycle, and I
00:38:22become wild on
00:38:24northern lights, known
00:38:26locally as the
00:38:27Merry Dancers.
00:38:29When electrically
00:38:30charged particles
00:38:31expelled by the sun
00:38:32collide with the
00:38:32Earth's atmosphere,
00:38:34lights are created,
00:38:36following the lines of
00:38:36the Earth's magnetic
00:38:37forces shifting and
00:38:39combining to create
00:38:40the dancing effect.
00:38:42We are far enough
00:38:43north here to
00:38:43experience them fairly
00:38:45regularly.
00:38:45Just outside the
00:38:48front door of Rose
00:38:48Cottage, with the
00:38:49house lights turned
00:38:50out, is a perfect
00:38:52spot to watch the
00:38:53northern lights, an
00:38:55unobscured northern
00:38:56vista.
00:38:57In my first couple of
00:38:58weeks on Pappy, I see
00:39:00the Merry Dancers more
00:39:01clearly than I ever have
00:39:03before.
00:39:04In the past, I have
00:39:05seen a greenish-tinged,
00:39:07gently glowing arc low
00:39:09across the north.
00:39:10But tonight, there is
00:39:13static in the air, and
00:39:16the whole sky is alive
00:39:17with shapes, white
00:39:19searchlights beaming from
00:39:21behind the horizon,
00:39:23dancing waves directly
00:39:24above, and slowly,
00:39:27thrillingly, blood-red
00:39:29blooms.
00:39:31Maybe things are not
00:39:32going to be so bad.
00:39:34I've swapped disco
00:39:35lights for celestial
00:39:36lights, but I'm still
00:39:38surrounded by dancers.
00:39:41I haven't drunk alcohol
00:39:43for 20 months, two
00:39:44weeks, and four days.
00:39:46I'm enjoying the
00:39:47simple challenges of
00:39:48keeping myself warm and
00:39:49fed.
00:39:50I'm learning how to
00:39:51behave decently in
00:39:52everyday life after
00:39:53years of confusion.
00:39:56My possessions are
00:39:57scattered.
00:39:58My ties and traditions
00:39:59are my own to make.
00:40:01I can choose where I
00:40:03will belong.
00:40:03When I arrived at
00:40:21Rose Cottage, I made
00:40:22sure my broadband was
00:40:24working before the hot
00:40:25water.
00:40:26Wherever I am, I spend
00:40:27most of my time with a
00:40:28laptop online, so I might
00:40:30as well do it in the
00:40:31calm and beautiful
00:40:33surroundings of Pappy.
00:40:35In the past decade or
00:40:36so, the internet has made
00:40:38island life possible for
00:40:39more people.
00:40:40The ability to work
00:40:41remotely increases hope
00:40:43that the fragile
00:40:44populations of some of
00:40:45the smaller islands will
00:40:47not only stabilise, but
00:40:48grow.
00:40:50Since I've been sober and
00:40:52in Orkney, I'm online
00:40:53more than ever, as a way
00:40:55of keeping myself linked
00:40:56to the old life I'm not
00:40:57prepared to cut ties with.
00:40:58I'm keeping in spectral
00:41:00communication with the
00:41:01ghosts of my past.
00:41:04There can be connection
00:41:05problems.
00:41:07Our internet and Pappy
00:41:08comes through the copper
00:41:09phone lines as the
00:41:10population size doesn't
00:41:12justify the phone
00:41:12companies installing
00:41:14fibre optic cables.
00:41:16The signal is sent by
00:41:17microwaves from Kirkwall
00:41:18to Chattensie, to
00:41:20Sandy, to Westry, then
00:41:21to us.
00:41:23The mobile signal can be
00:41:24affected by the wind.
00:41:26I'm waiting for the next
00:41:27scale to receive my text
00:41:28messages.
00:41:30In the islands, in the
00:41:32age of digital media,
00:41:34technology can bring us
00:41:35closer to the wild.
00:41:37When an unusual bird,
00:41:39such as a sea eagle, is
00:41:40seen in the sky above
00:41:41Orkney, or a pod of
00:41:43orca along the coastline,
00:41:45people pass messages
00:41:46immediately via a local
00:41:47birding forum or text
00:41:49message groups, so that
00:41:50others can rush out to
00:41:51see them.
00:41:53Alerts on the
00:41:54possibilities of seeing
00:41:55the northern lights
00:41:55circulate on the
00:41:57social networks, and
00:41:58the same night, or the
00:41:59next day, people share
00:42:01their photographs.
00:42:03On Sandy, a webcam is
00:42:05trained on the colony of
00:42:06grey seals that pup in
00:42:08November.
00:42:09I post a link online, and
00:42:11my friends in offices in
00:42:12London watch the hulking
00:42:13grey females hauled up on
00:42:15the beach with their white,
00:42:17teddy bear-like pups.
00:42:19We chat while watching
00:42:20seals caught before dawn by
00:42:21the night-vision camera.
00:42:23I begin to use a GPS app on
00:42:26my phone to track my daily
00:42:28walks around Pappy, along
00:42:30sheep trails and high
00:42:32water lines.
00:42:33I'm building a map, revealing
00:42:35the lines I am drawn along.
00:42:37The GPS tracker shows how my
00:42:39walks change.
00:42:40As the weeks go on, I become
00:42:42slower and more exploratory,
00:42:45covering smaller areas in
00:42:46greater detail, looking in rock
00:42:48pools for treasures.
00:42:49Cross-referencing the shoreline,
00:42:53with the Ordnance Survey map in
00:42:55my pocket, the maps on my
00:42:56phone, and my physical and
00:42:58visual experience, I am
00:42:59locating myself, putting the
00:43:01correct names to the inlets and
00:43:03outcrops.
00:43:04For me, these places exist both
00:43:06digitally and underfoot.
00:43:10Orkney and Shetland often used
00:43:11to appear in a box at the side
00:43:13of the map, to the east of
00:43:14Britain, rather than the north.
00:43:16Now, Google Maps stretches
00:43:18endlessly around the globe.
00:43:21Late at night, I keep ending up
00:43:22on the satellite view of
00:43:24Sul-Skeri, to the west of the
00:43:25Outrun, just beyond the horizon.
00:43:28Home in the spring, to thousands
00:43:29of breeding puffins and
00:43:31gannets.
00:43:32It seems the tides are strong
00:43:34around these parts of the
00:43:35internet, pushing me back here,
00:43:37again and again.
00:43:38I am able to point my phone at
00:43:42the night sky and name which
00:43:44stars and planets are in that
00:43:46direction.
00:43:47The programme on my phone marks
00:43:49the horizon like a spirit level,
00:43:51providing a digital gravity, even
00:43:53on the windiest, darkest night.
00:43:56Down there, on the other side of
00:43:58the world, is the International
00:43:59Space Station.
00:44:01Astronauts on board tweet
00:44:02photographs of their view back to
00:44:04us on Earth, and people reply,
00:44:06with long-exposure images they
00:44:08took of the station passing
00:44:09above.
00:44:11A trail of light across the
00:44:12continents.
00:44:16One morning, I have a tip-off on
00:44:18social media, that Orca have been
00:44:20seen hunting dolphins along the
00:44:22west coast of Orkney, heading
00:44:23north.
00:44:24I go out to the North Hill and
00:44:26look for them.
00:44:27I am all eyes, my body efficiently
00:44:29insulated.
00:44:31I don't see any whales, but I watch
00:44:33a huge ship just disappearing from
00:44:35view.
00:44:36Back at the cottage, I look on the
00:44:38marine traffic website, and find
00:44:40that she is a Russian cargo ship
00:44:42with a destination of Kandelaksha
00:44:44in northern Russia.
00:44:46With all these tabs open on my
00:44:48browser, I feel omniscient, watching
00:44:52how global transport logistics dance
00:44:54and intersect, never crashing like
00:44:56flocks of starling.
00:44:57I am not tracking a mysterious or
00:45:01endangered species.
00:45:02I am carrying out semi-scientific
00:45:04studies into myself, performing
00:45:07bathymetry of the soul.
00:45:10The internet counts every song I
00:45:12listen to, constantly updating lists
00:45:14of my favourite artists and
00:45:16recommending new ones.
00:45:18My Facebook prioritises the friends I
00:45:20interact with.
00:45:21I jostle for tweets.
00:45:23I am in an ever-changing process of
00:45:25defining myself, fascinated by counting
00:45:28and plotting and marking my daily
00:45:30activities and movements, collecting
00:45:33bottomless data.
00:45:34I have been tracking my sleep cycles and
00:45:37carrying out surveys of my dreams.
00:45:41With my phone, I record the noise of
00:45:44the wind and rain on my rose cottage
00:45:46bedroom window late one night during
00:45:47a gale.
00:45:49I record the sound of the breaking waves
00:45:51at Fowl Craig, the grey lag geese that
00:45:54sometimes mysteriously honk and rise
00:45:56late at night, wind in the telegraph
00:45:58wires, and the familiar hum of the
00:46:01propeller plane.
00:46:01I upload my recordings to the internet.
00:46:06Twenty-second sensory postings from my
00:46:08island life.
00:46:10Like poems.
00:46:12Sometimes, though, all this hyper-
00:46:14connection just makes me lonelier.
00:46:17Chatting on Skype, looking at the screen
00:46:19rather than the camera, creates a
00:46:21dissociation, a not-quite eye contact.
00:46:25We spend too much time online, and real
00:46:27life is just another window.
00:46:29What's the point in going out to look at
00:46:31wildlife when I can watch nature
00:46:32documentaries on YouTube, in bed, with an
00:46:35electric blanket?
00:46:38I half-wake in the night with rootless
00:46:40anxiety, and grasp for my phone.
00:46:43Lately, I've been tidying up trails I
00:46:45left in different parts of the internet
00:46:47under multiple identities some years ago
00:46:50while drunk.
00:46:51cross-addiction is the idea that, in the absence of drink,
00:47:02alcoholics will transfer their addictive behaviour to something else.
00:47:06It is commonly seen with food, exercise, shopping, or gambling.
00:47:10For me, it's Coca-Cola, smoking, relationships, and the internet.
00:47:17There's an emptiness.
00:47:19I've lost booze, and I'm desperately searching for what I need to fill me up.
00:47:23Is it coffee, sex, writing, love, new clothes, or online approval?
00:47:29I read about how these beeps and notifications and vibrations affect and alter our brains,
00:47:38giving small jolts of dopamine, a little adrenaline.
00:47:43Searching for that tiny buzz, I'm circling round familiar websites, like a migrating bird
00:47:48following rivers or motorways.
00:47:50The red notification of a message I've been waiting for
00:47:53gives me a shadow of the sensation of the first sip of beer,
00:47:57of cold water when you're parched,
00:48:00of a soft bed when you're exhausted,
00:48:02of giving up swimming when you're ready to drown.
00:48:07I have 20 tabs open on my laptop,
00:48:11each an endless journey, an unfinished thought.
00:48:15I can't go to sleep yet.
00:48:17There are too many tabs open in my brain.
00:48:20I'm trying to find the right thing to fill this hole,
00:48:22but it always eludes me,
00:48:24just at the brink of my consciousness,
00:48:26the corner of my eye,
00:48:28the island just over the horizon.
00:48:32I take a step back from my blank-minded mouse clicking,
00:48:35and notice how, when my phone runs out of batteries,
00:48:38I can almost feel I don't exist,
00:48:42my walk no longer being tracked.
00:48:45I'm aware of my addictive and obsessive tendencies.
00:48:48I'm using technology to take myself to the centre of something
00:48:52from my spot at the edge of the ocean.
00:48:55With my digital devices,
00:48:57the planes and birds and stars seem more quantifiable and trackable.
00:49:01I'm trying to make a connection with the world outside Pappy in my old life.
00:49:04I take a photograph of the sun setting over Westry
00:49:08and put it online.
00:49:10My sky is converted into zeros and ones.
00:49:13My personal data beam to satellites,
00:49:16bounce through fibre-optic cables under the sea,
00:49:18through microwaves, copper wire,
00:49:20and over islands.
00:49:21Now I'm back from Pappy.
00:49:31I've joined an eccentric group called the Orkney Polar Bears,
00:49:35who, every Saturday morning, year-round,
00:49:37go swimming in the sea at a different location around the islands.
00:49:40I prepare by eating porridge and listening to aggressive rap.
00:49:47The swims are a way to experience the changing seasons
00:49:50and different parts of Orkney,
00:49:52location decided following analysis of the tides and wind direction.
00:49:56We've swum at a bridge beside the main road,
00:49:59where we were beeped at by passing lorries,
00:50:01at a secluded sandy beach reached by a drive down a long pothole track,
00:50:05and then climbing over fences getting stung by nettles
00:50:09in rock pools in the harbour.
00:50:12We make a strange group,
00:50:14changing car-side into our swimming costumes
00:50:16with our woolly hats and goose bumps.
00:50:20We often swim to shipwrecks,
00:50:22the Second World War block ships that lie around Orkney's coast.
00:50:26Up close, their rusting hulls loom above us.
00:50:30We see the land from a different perspective
00:50:32and have encounters with birds.
00:50:34I once swam right up to a black guillemot
00:50:37and have had arctic terns diving nearby.
00:50:42It is always gaspingly cold.
00:50:47The sea temperature gets gradually higher all summer
00:50:49to an average of 13 degrees in September.
00:50:52Then, when the air temperature becomes cooler than the water,
00:50:56it goes down to four or so degrees in February.
00:50:59The first time felt like it was burning my skin,
00:51:02but each Saturday it gets slightly easier,
00:51:06although I am the wimpiest member of the club,
00:51:09back on shore drying myself
00:51:10while the others are still breast-stroking around the pier.
00:51:15Seals pop their heads close by when we swim,
00:51:18interested in our human presence,
00:51:20looking at us with familiar eyes.
00:51:23We are mirror images,
00:51:25both at the edge of our worlds,
00:51:26only able to share a small proportion of our territory.
00:51:31I'm not the first person to think a seal is my friend.
00:51:34Selkie is the Orcadian word for seal,
00:51:37but it also has links to the tales of seals shifting into human form.
00:51:42Selkies, it is said,
00:51:44slip from their seal skins as beautiful naked people
00:51:47who dance on beaches under the moon.
00:51:49If the seal skin was lost or stolen,
00:51:52the Selkies would be unable to transform back.
00:51:55There are stories of men hiding skins
00:51:57and taking a seal maiden as a wife,
00:52:00but she would always belong in the sea.
00:52:03By swimming in the sea,
00:52:05I cross the normal boundaries.
00:52:07I'm no longer on land,
00:52:09but part of the body of water
00:52:11making up all the oceans of the world,
00:52:13which moves, ebbing and flowing,
00:52:15under and around me.
00:52:17Naked on the beach,
00:52:19I am a Selkie,
00:52:20slipped from its skin.
00:52:24During each of the first few swims,
00:52:26there is a point when my body panics.
00:52:28I picture drowning,
00:52:30and knowing the depth beneath me,
00:52:32my heart rate increases.
00:52:34I swim because
00:52:35I want to shock myself awake.
00:52:37I want to blast away
00:52:38the frustrations of being stuck on this island,
00:52:41and I no longer have the outlet of getting drunk.
00:52:44The chilly immersion is addictive.
00:52:47Verging on unpleasant at the time,
00:52:49but I find myself craving it.
00:52:52Agreeing to go again.
00:52:54Planning my next swim.
00:52:56Eyeing up locks,
00:52:57bays or reservoirs.
00:53:00Lately, I've noticed a gradual reprogramming.
00:53:04I used to confuse my neurotransmitters
00:53:06on a Friday night in a hot nightclub.
00:53:08Now I shock my senses on a Saturday morning
00:53:11in a biting sea,
00:53:12plunging warm skin into cold water,
00:53:15forcing a rush of sensation.
00:53:18Cleansed.
00:53:20When I pull myself out,
00:53:21up the slipway,
00:53:23climbing the ladder onto the pier
00:53:24or washing up with the waves onto the beach,
00:53:27I feel saved.
00:53:29Reborn.
00:53:31And very alive.
00:53:44On geological maps of Orkney,
00:53:46a division runs through Pappy,
00:53:48through the area of Rose Cottage,
00:53:50splitting the North Hill.
00:53:52During my time on the island,
00:53:55I search for the fault line,
00:53:56although I'm not sure what it will look like.
00:54:00On the hill one day,
00:54:02I sit to watch the sea
00:54:03and think about Dad.
00:54:05Although he's not seen a shrink in fifteen years
00:54:08or taken medication in ten,
00:54:10he's been slightly agitated,
00:54:12erratic and excitable in recent weeks,
00:54:15bathing in the way that makes people
00:54:16who've known him for a long time
00:54:18fear he's heading for a manic episode.
00:54:21As a wave breaks,
00:54:23sending clumps of foam in my direction,
00:54:25it strikes me that I know how he feels.
00:54:28Because I used to feel like that
00:54:30when I was drinking.
00:54:32Symptoms of mania are similar to drunkenness.
00:54:35Feeling high and optimistic,
00:54:37racing thoughts,
00:54:38impaired judgment and impulsiveness,
00:54:40acting recklessly.
00:54:42Each binge drinking session
00:54:43is a manic depressive cycle in miniature.
00:54:47The next day's hangover
00:54:48is the inevitable depressive period that follows.
00:54:51Coming back sometime later,
00:54:52you survey the damage
00:54:54and eroded relationships.
00:54:56Apologise
00:54:57and make promises
00:54:58to control it better next time.
00:55:00Lost in self-pity
00:55:01and self-obsession.
00:55:03I first encountered Dee
00:55:07when she emailed offering her support
00:55:10as another sober woman in Orkney.
00:55:13At that point,
00:55:13I didn't know that I would be coming to live
00:55:15on her island.
00:55:17She and her husband, Mo,
00:55:18had moved to Pappy four years previously.
00:55:21I had not asked anyone
00:55:22to be my sponsor
00:55:23and I was only interested in someone
00:55:26who shared my prejudices
00:55:27and didn't mention Jesus.
00:55:29Something occurs to me
00:55:32that I've never thought of before.
00:55:35Perhaps my drinking
00:55:36was in part
00:55:37an attempt to attain
00:55:38the manic states
00:55:39I'd experienced through my father.
00:55:42Seems so simple
00:55:44and,
00:55:45unlike many other explanations
00:55:46I'd been offered for my drinking,
00:55:48makes sense.
00:55:50The idea that I'm
00:55:51not mentally ill
00:55:53but was pursuing my own mania
00:55:55fits with what I was searching for
00:55:57with alcohol
00:55:58and how I tried
00:55:59to make myself feel.
00:56:01In a way,
00:56:02my drunkenness
00:56:03was an attempt
00:56:04to emulate
00:56:04and even impress
00:56:06my dad.
00:56:08I was wild
00:56:09and free
00:56:09and alive.
00:56:12I stand up
00:56:13from my stone seat.
00:56:15I've made a breakthrough
00:56:16in understanding
00:56:17my own behaviour.
00:56:20I didn't find it
00:56:21in a therapist's office
00:56:22or by conscientiously
00:56:23working through the programme
00:56:24or by talking
00:56:25to my AA sponsor
00:56:26but outdoors
00:56:28watching the waves.
00:56:31On this hill
00:56:31I have found something
00:56:33that could be the fault line
00:56:34a faint
00:56:35rocky ridge
00:56:36but in many ways
00:56:37it doesn't matter
00:56:38what the cause is
00:56:39or where the fault line started.
00:56:41What matters
00:56:41is that I recognise
00:56:43the problem
00:56:44which AA
00:56:45neatly summarises
00:56:46in step one.
00:56:48We admitted
00:56:49we are powerless
00:56:50over alcohol
00:56:51and that our lives
00:56:52had become
00:56:52unmanageable.
00:56:55Step two
00:56:56says
00:56:56we came to believe
00:56:58that a power
00:56:59greater than ourselves
00:57:00could restore us
00:57:01to sanity.
00:57:02My sponsor asks me
00:57:03before our next session
00:57:04to consider
00:57:05if I believe
00:57:05that there is
00:57:06a power
00:57:07greater than myself.
00:57:10Reluctantly
00:57:10I think about
00:57:11the forces
00:57:12that I have experienced
00:57:13living on the islands
00:57:14the wind
00:57:15and the sea.
00:57:16I think of erosion
00:57:17and corrosion.
00:57:21Despite my discomfort
00:57:22that the question
00:57:22might push me
00:57:23into dubious areas
00:57:24of spirituality
00:57:25that I find
00:57:26hard to grasp
00:57:27I decide
00:57:28that I can
00:57:29accept
00:57:29the existence
00:57:30of some powers
00:57:31greater than myself
00:57:32and not God
00:57:33just the things
00:57:35I've always known
00:57:36the forces
00:57:37I've grown up with
00:57:38strong enough
00:57:39to smash up
00:57:40ships
00:57:40and carve islands.
00:57:43I don't go
00:57:44to the south
00:57:44of the island
00:57:45often
00:57:45but today
00:57:46I visit
00:57:47the lock
00:57:47of Treadwell
00:57:48for the first time.
00:57:48A small
00:57:50circular promontory
00:57:52juts into the loch.
00:57:53Once an island
00:57:54it is an early
00:57:55Christian site
00:57:56with the remains
00:57:57of a chapel
00:57:57dating back
00:57:58to around
00:57:59the 8th century
00:58:00and older
00:58:01archaeological remains
00:58:02that have been
00:58:02dated to the
00:58:03Iron Age.
00:58:05St Treadwell
00:58:06also known as
00:58:07Triduana
00:58:07was courted
00:58:09by Pictish
00:58:10King Necton
00:58:11who admired
00:58:12her beautiful eyes.
00:58:14In response
00:58:15Triduana
00:58:16gouged them out
00:58:17and sent them
00:58:18to him
00:58:18skewered
00:58:19on a thorn.
00:58:21I read
00:58:21different accounts
00:58:22of the story
00:58:22some saying
00:58:24that the king
00:58:24tried to rape her
00:58:25and her actions
00:58:26were self-preservation
00:58:27others suggesting
00:58:29it was an act
00:58:29of love.
00:58:31By the 12th century
00:58:33the chapel
00:58:34in the loch
00:58:34became a place
00:58:35of pilgrimage
00:58:36particularly for
00:58:37the blind
00:58:37or those
00:58:38with eye trouble.
00:58:40It's said
00:58:40pilgrims
00:58:41walked three times
00:58:42around the loch
00:58:43then bathed
00:58:44their eyes
00:58:45in its healing
00:58:45waters.
00:58:47I avoid
00:58:47thinking or
00:58:48talking about
00:58:49God and
00:58:49faith.
00:58:50It makes
00:58:51my heart
00:58:51beat faster
00:58:52and anger
00:58:52rise inside
00:58:53me.
00:58:54Although I
00:58:55don't want
00:58:55to get rid
00:58:56of my
00:58:56cool rational
00:58:57mind
00:58:57I do want
00:58:58to stay
00:58:58sober
00:58:59so I
00:59:01know I
00:59:01must face
00:59:01these feelings.
00:59:04Step
00:59:05three
00:59:05suggests
00:59:06that we
00:59:06make a
00:59:08decision
00:59:08to turn
00:59:08our will
00:59:09and our
00:59:09lives
00:59:10over to
00:59:10the care
00:59:11of God
00:59:11as we
00:59:11understood
00:59:12him.
00:59:13My
00:59:14sponsor
00:59:14asks me
00:59:15to think
00:59:15about
00:59:15turning
00:59:16something
00:59:16over
00:59:17as
00:59:17simply
00:59:18looking
00:59:18at
00:59:18things
00:59:18from
00:59:19a
00:59:19different
00:59:19angle.
00:59:21I
00:59:21have
00:59:21good
00:59:21eyesight
00:59:22and
00:59:22little
00:59:22faith
00:59:23but
00:59:23today
00:59:23as a
00:59:24gesture
00:59:24toward
00:59:25trying
00:59:25new
00:59:25things
00:59:25I
00:59:26recreate
00:59:27the
00:59:27pilgrim's
00:59:28ritual
00:59:28walking
00:59:29around
00:59:30the
00:59:30loch
00:59:30anticlockwise.
00:59:32According
00:59:33to the
00:59:33GPS tracker
00:59:34on my
00:59:34phone
00:59:34the
00:59:35circumnavigation
00:59:36is 3.1
00:59:37miles
00:59:37and will
00:59:38take me
00:59:3878
00:59:39minutes.
00:59:39What
00:59:41am I
00:59:41expecting
00:59:42from
00:59:42this
00:59:42ritual?
00:59:44Do I
00:59:45somehow
00:59:45think
00:59:45that
00:59:45coming
00:59:46here
00:59:46bravely
00:59:47facing
00:59:47the
00:59:47winter
00:59:47alone
00:59:48will
00:59:48make
00:59:48me
00:59:49a
00:59:49better
00:59:49person
00:59:50or
00:59:50cure
00:59:50me?
00:59:51Am I
00:59:52hoping
00:59:52for
00:59:52a
00:59:52miracle?
00:59:54If I
00:59:54walk
00:59:55the
00:59:55right
00:59:55configuration
00:59:56around
00:59:56the
00:59:56loch
00:59:56will
00:59:57Tridioanna
00:59:57remove
00:59:57my
00:59:58addiction?
01:00:00In
01:00:00my
01:00:00notebook
01:00:01I
01:00:01have
01:00:02written
01:00:02my
01:00:02own
01:00:02step
01:00:02three
01:00:03prayer.
01:00:04I
01:00:04pick
01:00:04up a
01:00:05small
01:00:05stone
01:00:05from
01:00:05the
01:00:05promontory
01:00:06and
01:00:07begin
01:00:07to read
01:00:07it
01:00:07out
01:00:09thinking
01:00:09about
01:00:10the
01:00:10idea
01:00:10of
01:00:10turning
01:00:11it
01:00:11over
01:00:11I
01:00:13throw
01:00:13the
01:00:13stone
01:00:13into
01:00:13the
01:00:14loch
01:00:14watching
01:00:15the
01:00:15ripples
01:00:15it
01:00:16leaves
01:00:16until
01:00:16they
01:00:16disappear.
01:00:20On
01:00:21Pappy
01:00:21Fair Isle
01:00:23has been a
01:00:23spectre at
01:00:24the edge
01:00:24of my
01:00:24field of
01:00:25vision
01:00:25just over
01:00:26the horizon.
01:00:28Orkney
01:00:28and Shetland
01:00:29are in the
01:00:29Fair Isle
01:00:29sea area
01:00:30of the
01:00:30shipping
01:00:31forecast
01:00:31and
01:00:32getting ready
01:00:33for bed
01:00:33my ears
01:00:34tune in
01:00:35when its
01:00:35name is
01:00:35read.
01:00:36Wind
01:00:37easterly
01:00:37or
01:00:38north
01:00:38easterly
01:00:39six to
01:00:39gale
01:00:39eight
01:00:40sea state
01:00:41rough
01:00:41or very
01:00:42rough
01:00:42wintry
01:00:43showers
01:00:43visibility
01:00:44good
01:00:45occasionally
01:00:46poor.
01:00:48On the
01:00:49thirteenth
01:00:49day of
01:00:50Christmas
01:00:50I'm the
01:00:51only passenger
01:00:52alongside a
01:00:52backlog of
01:00:53post bags
01:00:53on the
01:00:54islander
01:00:54plane from
01:00:55Tingwall
01:00:55Airport
01:00:56on mainland
01:00:56Shetland.
01:00:58We fly over
01:00:59miles of
01:00:59water before
01:01:00Fair Isle
01:01:01appears on
01:01:01the horizon
01:01:02rising
01:01:03spectacularly
01:01:04from the
01:01:04sea.
01:01:06Fair Isle
01:01:07is unlike
01:01:08anywhere I've
01:01:08been.
01:01:10Everywhere you
01:01:10turn there
01:01:11are dramatic
01:01:11views of
01:01:12the coastline
01:01:12sweeping curves
01:01:14cut off by
01:01:14towering cliffs.
01:01:16The improbable
01:01:17ski slope of
01:01:18sheep rock
01:01:18gives the
01:01:19island a
01:01:19distinctive
01:01:20profile and
01:01:21it seems
01:01:22preposterous that
01:01:23until 1977
01:01:24sheep were
01:01:25kept there
01:01:26winched on
01:01:27and off
01:01:28one by one
01:01:28using ropes
01:01:29from boats
01:01:30far below.
01:01:33A bird hide
01:01:34has been built
01:01:34straight up from a
01:01:35cliff and I edge
01:01:36inside.
01:01:38The cliffs are
01:01:38busy with
01:01:39foamers so
01:01:40in the breeding
01:01:40season it must
01:01:41be teeming.
01:01:42A black-backed
01:01:43gull is perched
01:01:44on the peak of
01:01:45an iceberg-shaped
01:01:45scary like a
01:01:47pirate king.
01:01:48The only piece of
01:01:49land in the
01:01:50large area of
01:01:51sea on the
01:01:52flight path
01:01:52between
01:01:52Scandinavia,
01:01:54Iceland,
01:01:54the Faroes and
01:01:55the rest of
01:01:55Europe,
01:01:57Fair Isle is
01:01:57famous for its
01:01:58bird observatory.
01:02:00Ornithologists
01:02:00come to see its
01:02:01breeding seabird
01:02:02colonies as well
01:02:03as to find
01:02:04migrating rarities
01:02:05in spring and
01:02:06autumn.
01:02:06I'm a rare
01:02:09January visitor
01:02:10so people on
01:02:11the island know
01:02:12I'm there before
01:02:12I meet them.
01:02:13The woman in the
01:02:14shop knows where
01:02:14I'm staying.
01:02:16But what am I
01:02:17doing here on
01:02:18Fair Isle in
01:02:19January?
01:02:19A single woman
01:02:20with no easy
01:02:21explanation.
01:02:22I'm not a
01:02:23birder or someone
01:02:24tracing my family
01:02:25history.
01:02:26I'm not sure,
01:02:27it's just that I've
01:02:28been scrolling over
01:02:29online maps and
01:02:30reading websites for
01:02:31ages and now I'm
01:02:33here.
01:02:33My leisure time is
01:02:36no longer filled
01:02:37with drinking and
01:02:37nights out and I
01:02:39don't have children
01:02:40or many
01:02:40responsibilities so
01:02:42this is what I'm
01:02:42doing instead.
01:02:44Visiting increasingly
01:02:45remote northern
01:02:46places, following the
01:02:48map to the edge.
01:02:49This is the story of
01:02:50what happens after you
01:02:51stop drinking.
01:02:54This is the freedom
01:02:55of sobriety.
01:02:55Back in Orkney,
01:03:00surveyors and
01:03:00businessmen have
01:03:01been to visit Dad
01:03:02on the farm and
01:03:03there is talk of
01:03:04money.
01:03:05The outrun has
01:03:05been chosen as the
01:03:07preferred site to
01:03:08build a huge
01:03:09substation to serve
01:03:10the tidal and wave
01:03:11energy devices proposed
01:03:13to be tethered to the
01:03:14seabed at sites off
01:03:15the West Mainland.
01:03:17Our location between
01:03:19the Atlantic and the
01:03:20North Sea means there
01:03:21are strong and fast
01:03:23flowing currents around
01:03:24Orkney.
01:03:24Our waters are
01:03:26potentially energy
01:03:27rich.
01:03:29The developers are
01:03:30interested in buying
01:03:31a hundred acres of
01:03:32land, 62 from Dad
01:03:35including most of the
01:03:36outrun.
01:03:37Two huge buildings are
01:03:38planned, each with a
01:03:40footprint of ten acres.
01:03:42Even if the farmers
01:03:43don't want to sell, the
01:03:44development is important
01:03:45enough potentially to
01:03:47force a compulsory
01:03:47purchase order.
01:03:49I've returned to the
01:03:51island at exciting
01:03:52times.
01:03:53I'm generally
01:03:54in favour of
01:03:55renewable energy.
01:03:56This is a new way of
01:03:58using the land and
01:03:59our natural resources,
01:04:00reducing our use of
01:04:01fossil fuels and
01:04:02providing income for
01:04:03the islands into the
01:04:0421st century.
01:04:06But the idea that this
01:04:07beautiful, barely
01:04:09touched stretch of land
01:04:10where I grew up,
01:04:11where I chased
01:04:12lambs, watched
01:04:13birds and hid with my
01:04:14brother, should become
01:04:15an industrial zone is
01:04:17dizzying.
01:04:19Things change and move
01:04:20on.
01:04:20The outrun could be
01:04:22solved for the
01:04:23substation, but the
01:04:24waves will still crash
01:04:25indifferently up against
01:04:26its cliffs.
01:04:28The engineers laying the
01:04:29cables will feel the
01:04:29tremors.
01:04:31The same wind that
01:04:32whistles through the
01:04:32windows of my little
01:04:33house will turn the
01:04:35blades of the turbines,
01:04:36cutting the air in an
01:04:37endless pattern.
01:04:38The spring equinox is
01:04:42soon.
01:04:43I will be two years
01:04:44sober.
01:04:46Although I mainly rely on
01:04:47my own forms of therapy,
01:04:49walking, swimming, I have
01:04:51started going through the
01:04:52rest of the twelve steps,
01:04:54designed to be a programme
01:04:55for sustainable living.
01:04:57The forces that I grew up
01:04:58with are being utilised in
01:04:59unexpected ways.
01:05:02Recovery is making use of
01:05:03something once thought
01:05:04worthless.
01:05:05I might have been washed
01:05:06up, but I can be
01:05:08renewed.
01:05:11I didn't know what
01:05:11would happen when I got
01:05:12sober, when I launched
01:05:14myself into the unknown
01:05:15future.
01:05:17I didn't know my
01:05:18strongest desire would be
01:05:19to hear the rasping
01:05:20call of the corncrake.
01:05:22I didn't know I would put
01:05:23my energy into searching
01:05:24for elusive birds and
01:05:26merry dancers, into
01:05:27swimming in cold seas,
01:05:29sailing to abandoned
01:05:30islands, flying on tiny
01:05:31plains, coming back home.
01:05:33I didn't know I'd find
01:05:35myself alone, climbing a
01:05:37steep hill on the
01:05:38country's most remote
01:05:39island during a gale in
01:05:40early January, buffeted
01:05:41by spin drift.
01:05:44But I had to give myself
01:05:45the chance to find out.
01:05:49I never saw myself as, and
01:05:51resist becoming, the
01:05:53wholesome outdoors type.
01:05:55But the things I experience
01:05:57keep dragging me in.
01:05:59There are moments that
01:06:02thrill and glow.
01:06:05The few seconds a silver
01:06:07male hen harrier flies
01:06:08beside my car one
01:06:09afternoon.
01:06:11The porpoise surfacing
01:06:12around our small boat.
01:06:14The wonderful sight of a
01:06:17herd of cattle let out on
01:06:19grass after a winter
01:06:20indoors, skipping and
01:06:21jumping, tails straight up
01:06:22to the sky with joy.
01:06:23I am free-falling, but
01:06:28grabbing these things as I
01:06:29plunge.
01:06:31Maybe this is what
01:06:32happens.
01:06:33I've given up drugs, don't
01:06:35believe in God, and love
01:06:36has gone wrong.
01:06:38So now I find my happiness
01:06:39and flight in the world
01:06:40around me.
01:06:43The last two years stretch
01:06:45and glitter behind me like
01:06:47the wake of a fairy.
01:06:49The powers are churning
01:06:51inside me.
01:06:53The Outrun by Amy Liptrot
01:07:04was read by Tracy Wiles.
01:07:05It was abridged by Sarah
01:07:07Davies, and the producer
01:07:08was Simon Richardson.
Be the first to comment