When Dennis And Ciara Came To Tiree. How To Survive Winter On A Tiny Remote Scottish Island

We are in our second winter as I write this and it’s blowing a hoolie. Storm Dennis is raging outside with 70+ mph winds, having followed in the footsteps of his predecessor Ciara, who visited us only a few days earlier. And the week before we were introduced to Brendon. There has only been one ferry service this week and the back flow in our bathroom is having a bit of a party. So you may well be asking yourself: how do you survive winter on a tiny remote Scottish island?

Though this may all sound and look dramatic, it’s nowhere near as bad as it has been on the mainland. The worst thing I saw being reported on the island was a slightly damaged shed. Our home is still dry. Our power is still up. Unlike on the mainland. Our two island food shops are running a bit low on fresh milk and fresh bread, but there is still plenty of fruit and veg left, and heaps of food in the freezer and cupboard sections, so we won’t be going hungry any time soon. So we jump into our sturdy 4x4 which is filled with camera equipment, and head off to the nearest beach where we might catch some dramatic wave action.  When the weather is stormy, we either go out and have fun, or we go full on Coorie. We light the fire, grab a book and snuggle under a blanket. That is how to survive winter on a tiny remote Scottish island.

When we made our permanent move to the Isle of Tiree it was late October 2018 (you can read more about that here). The summer had been glorious, in fact, it had been one of the hottest and sunniest on record. If you haven’t been to Tiree, explaining what summer is like here is like trying to explain what music sounds like to someone who can’t hear. It’s glorious. Turquoise clear waters, vast empty white beaches, you get the idea. So it was surprising to us that one of the most frequent comments we heard after telling people how much we loved living here, was that this would almost certainly change, as we had yet to experience a full winter on the island. 

When winter came and the storms started to roll in from the Atlantic, we were both excited and a little bit worried at the same time. We had lots of questions. For example, will there be enough food in the stores and what could we leave outside without worrying about it being blown away? The answer to the first was, yes, we were not going to go hungry during winter, and the answer to the second question we discovered from experience was really quite simple: absolutely nothing, unless it’s tied down and bolted into concrete. Once we learnt that trick though, our lives weren’t that different to that during summer. Here are a few of the things we learnt about surviving winter on a tiny remote Scottish island.

What we’ve learnt about surviving winter on a tiny remote Scottish island 

1.     Planning – being prepared is always a good thing, and being on a tiny remote island is no different  

2.     Creativity – we make more from less and think before we discard stuff, but when we need something, we order online like everyone else

3.     Tech - we invested in technology to cope with the odd power cut and we own a few more torches than we ever thought we needed, though we prefer to turn them off and look up at the beautiful Milky Way instead

4.     Go with the flow - rather than fighting the elements, we let it guide our days and we have fun capturing it

5.     Hygge and Coorie have taken on a whole new meaning for us, island life makes snuggling in front a fire totally legit

6.     Stop the clock - we don’t live 9 to 5 here, we now live by our own clock and have the freedom to run our own lives

7.     Simple things - we appreciate the little things more than ever before

1.    Planning

This may be a really obvious point and comes under “common sense” in the dictionary, but we’ve learnt that in a couple of areas you need to be prepared to survive winter on a tiny remote island. But then again, if you were moving to a hot country or somewhere with lots of snow, it’s no different to planning for that.

Going outside in the dark to tie down a trailer in 70mph winds, it turns out, is not so much fun. Newby error in the first winter. It’s not that the wind is any stronger here than it is on the mainland - we both grew up in a coastal region and had been through worse storms then these. It’s more that there is nothing in the way to stop the wind or slow it down. The island is flat and has few objects. So now we know to store our garden furniture inside and tie our bins down, we keep our camera batteries charged at all times, ready to jump in the car and capture some stunning dramatic waves.

2.    Creativity

We learnt to be even more creative with the things we have so we can do more with less. Living so close to nature has made us more aware of how precious things are, so we try to re-use almost everything. From the packaging we receive in the post, to our food leftovers to make compost. We think a bit more about what other uses things might have before we simply throw them in the bin. Living on a small island brings with it a great community spirit. We have an island internet page dedicated to helping others. When something is no longer needed, there is usually someone else who can give it a second life. Upcycling is definitely the new black!

When we dye our wool, we try to think about what else we can make from the plants or fruits that we use. The black beans in particular (one of my favourite dyes, it makes the most gorgeous blue) make a delicious soup or stew! Our eating habits have definitely changed. We cook from scratch and what we have in the fridge is what we eat. That sometimes means pasta, or even Chinese leftovers, for breakfast and we invent new combinations of flavours most days. We actually have fun in creating the weirdest combinations and are often surprised how good weird things taste when you put them together! Perhaps we will write a recipe book one day…

3.    Tech

Turns out, power cuts are part of island life, just like they are on the mainland. But they never last long, which is surprising given everything is so exposed. Mostly, they are tiny interruptions lasting less than a couple of seconds. When you’re dependent on running your business online and you’re busy working on your computer and it switches itself off, clearly that is not ideal, so we sourced some uninterruptible power supplies.  This bit of kit has become invaluable. Unless we actually want to have some down time. At times we find ourselves wishing we had more power cuts so we can light some candles and cosy up in front of the fire!

We do now own a wide range of torches and have them dotted around the place. In the car, by the front door, a head torch with our hats… You haven’t seen real darkness until you step outside your front door, stretch out your hand and can’t see it. That is what moonless nights are like here. Total and utter darkness. Fabulous for star gazing. We had been to places before where the night sky was pretty dark, but this has to be the place where I’ve seen the Milky Way more clearly than anywhere else. And then there is Aurora… That requires different tech. Our cameras. Back to step one, planning is everything! 

4.    Go with the flow

Weather feels like it has a bigger impact on life on a tiny remote island, but it’s not actually that different. We just use it as an excuse to go with the flow a lot more. We’ve adjusted our routines to make the most of it. Running our business from home as a husband and wife team means we are always thinking about the next thing. But we don’t have to be confined to an office. Some of our best ideas have come about after a wild swim or a long walk in the fresh air.

When the seas are up and the sun is out, we down tools, move a few deadlines, and spend a few hours on the beach. Whether it’s catching a few waves or a photography session, we enjoy the outdoors whenever we can during winter. We found there is always that particular quiet spell before and after each storm, when the calm is present even more so than usual. Those days are what winter is all about.

5.    Hygge & Coorie

Before moving to this tiny remote island, we used to fill our bookcase with beautiful books about Hygge and Coorie but hadn’t quite got around to incorporating any of it into our busy lives. That’s all changed living on a tiny remote island. 

There are many definitions of these terms but they both have a feeling of cosiness, contentedness and appreciation of things at the core. Coorie probably has a stronger connection to nature and Hygge can be found indoors, but never mind definitions, we’ve given them our own island meaning now. From cob-web busting walks on our empty island beaches followed by a warming hot chocolate, to cosy pure wool knitwear and evenings by the fire with a book, we’ve fully embraced this way of life now.

6.    Stop the clock

Time seems to run differently on this tiny remote island. Our days are so filled with activities, they simply fly by. In summer the days go on forever whereas in winter, the days are short, and the nights are long. We’ve learnt to ignore the clock and just do what feels right. So, we sleep more in winter and a lot less in summer (something to do with those 3 am sunrises and 11 pm sunsets, though some days it never gets dark) and we often find ourselves questioning what day of the week it is. We have a work schedule, of course, stuff still needs to get done, but it’s much more about the activities that need completing, rather than the dates and times we need to do them by. It will all get done, but it just won’t be during 9 to 5. 

7.    Simple things

You’ve probably got the gist by now that we’ve started looking at life through a slightly different lens since moving here. We certainly appreciate all that we have a lot more and live a lot more in the moment. We give all things the time they need, regardless of endless lists of stuff that needs to get done wherever you live. Whether this is having a cup of tea and a chat with an unannounced visitor, spending time with our sheep, stopping our car in the middle of the road to chat to a neighbour driving in the other direction, or simply making a meal from scratch, it’s all simplified into doing one thing at a time and doing it really well. 

We soon learnt that weather here never lasts very long. The island is flat, and nothing gets in the way of passing weather, so it seems to not want to linger here for long, preferring to continue its journey to the mainland. Grey, drab (dreich) days are rare here. The weather can change in an instant, but it tends to go from bright sunny to dramatic black rainy skies and back to sunny again in a moment. Never have I ever lived anywhere with so many rainbows in the sky. And then there is that winter light. The light you only see in unpolluted areas, far north, where the sun is low in the sky. It’s a photographer’s dream to live in this light! And with that we’re back to point one, being prepared, so we always have a camera to hand, wherever we go.

Conclusion

We’ve just been to check on our sheep, to make sure they found some shelter from the storm and to give them some extra nutrition. They will be burning a fair few calories to stay warm and cosy in their fleeces during this weather, and the grass, though plentiful, is less nutritious this time of year. As we battle our way back to the house through what must be somewhere between 70 to 80 mph gusts, the sun setting rapidly behind us, we reflect on our stormy winter’s day. We got to see a fishing trawler get in and out of a spot of bother, photographed some amazing waves on the beach, got some work done in our own time, observed island sheep and cows taking shelter in the most creative ways, came back to a freezer and cupboard stocked with wholesome food and prepared ourselves a feast before getting cosy with a book and some knitting…. And that is how to survive winter on a tiny remote Scottish island.