Orca stories from Shetland

What a joy it's been seeing life beneath the ocean on BBC's Wild Isles! From tiniest creatures to ocean giants, I've been lucky enough to experience some of the animals which featured in the show thanks to living in Shetland. I’d like to share some of the moments that continue to inspire me in my island home.

Our wildlife, culture and economy are all shaped by the sea. In Shetland, we have around 1,700 miles of coast and nowhere is more than 3 miles from the shoreline. Shorelines vary from towering cliffs to sheltered sandy beaches, and in recognition of its diverse geology, Shetland is a UNESCO Geopark. Whether you’re gazing at the horizon or beachcombing, there is always something of interest.

What captures many people’s attention is the killer whale, or Orca. As a bairn, I don’t recall seeing Orca. I would often see Harbour Porpoise, known as Neesiks in Shetland, and occasionally Minke Whales, which we call Herring Hogs. One time I remember seeing the sea looking as if it was boiling with a huge movement of what I now think must have been Pilot Whales, or Caain Whales as they’re called here as they used to be ‘Caa’d in’ and grounded on beaches when whaling was practiced over 100 years ago. Orca do not have a dialect name, to my knowledge, which makes me think they were not regular visitors to the seas around us in the past. However, since the 1990s, that has changed. I have had many memorable experiences with Orca, and every one feels like a gift, but some are more memorable as others.

One of my first memories of looking for Orca was when I was working as a barmaid. Various customers came in saying they’d been watching killer whales off the end of the Sumburgh Airport runway, less than a mile away. It was driving me mad with envy and frustration that I couldn’t get out to see them, but as soon as the clock hit 14:30, I pulled down the shutters, sprinted out the door, jumped on my motorbike (I say motorbike, it was a little moped), and went as fast as possible to where the whales had been seen, but I was too late and it was thick fog. I decided to try Garthsness, the place where the Braer tanker had come ashore just a few years before spewing thousands of tonnes of oil on our shores, which altered the course of my life, but that’s another story!

Sometimes in Shetland, you get gale force fog, but this day both sea and sky were calm. A couple of other folk had gone to the same place and there was an air of anticipation. I waited, feeling a little dejected yet still hopeful, although I had only an hour before I had to get back to work. Then, through the silence I heard a “pfffffffshsh” noise, and moments later, appearing through the mist came a massive black fin, like an upturned surfboard. My mood instantly lifted and I hotfooted it down to the shore to get a better view. I could hardly believe my eyes that here I was, a couple of miles from home, seeing and hearing a pod of Orca. Next I know, I’m running along the craggy shore beside one of them who was swimming on its side looking up at me. I still get shiver thinking back to that, making eye contact with a massive predator. 

Back then in the 90s, spotting orca was a rare occasion. Fishermen told me they’d seen huge numbers congregating around the continental shelf. The Faroese seamen would say once the Orca arrived you might as well pull up your nets as they would scatter the herring balls. I heard of helicopter crews spotting them as they went to the oil rigs or out on Search and Rescue training. There were no mobile phones but sometimes folk would put the news out on the birders grapevine.

My first contract with the RSPB was in 2001. That's when I remember Orca sightings going up as people would knock on the office window to tell us killer whales were outside. The RSPB Shetland Office is based at the Sumburgh Head nature reserve, in the lighthouse (owned and managed by Shetland Amenity Trust). In the summer, thousands of seabirds like Guillemots, Fulmars, and Puffins breed on the headland. To the west is the Atlantic, the east is the North Sea. The cool and warmer waters carry nutrients and plankton, influencing the marine food web. Shetland may have few trees, but there are huge areas of kelp forest providing habitat for amazing creatures. 

The east side of southern Shetland is quite accessible and people can spend a whole day following a pod from Lerwick (our town) to Sumburgh Head. I have seen whales in all months, meaning I’ve seen them chasing Long-tailed Ducks (Calloos), who spend their winters here before returning to the Arctic to breed, summer visitors like Shelducks, and species that are here all year round - Fulmars (Maalies), Black Guillemots (Tysties) and Selkies (Grey and Harbour Seals). It is fascinating to watch their behaviour. I’ve seen the matriarch explore the nooks and crannies of the coastline hunting for seals whilst the bull, known as Busta, lay belly up playing with the smallest calf, and I’ve seen them nuzzling through kelp and passing something that looked like a male lumpsucker between each other. One favourite time was again running along the shore watching them ride a wave in unison. So awesome. There aren’t words for the exhilaration and feeling of being grateful. My brother is a far better photographer than me and I hope you enjoy his photos and one day you get to experience Shetland at its best.

In the mid-2000s, people began to study the Orca to understand their behaviour and movement. With the increased profile, wildlife documentaries were made putting Shetland well on the map for being a place to look for Orca. The increased eyes on the sea, more folk with cameras, improvements in mobile phones, and social media means that we now know individual Orca and how they behave. Whilst my favourite encounters with Orca are the chance occasions, rather than WhatsApp groups, I get a huge amount of joy seeing people grinning ear to ear on seeing a cetacean. School children have even spotted Orca from their playground.

Run by Whale and Dolphin Conservation (WDC), Shorewatch is a great way for people to make their time spent outside watching the sea count. Volunteers receive training in how to identify and record cetaceans. These records contribute to collective knowledge and could be crucial in protecting areas from development. This link shows how people’s records of Orca can be used. Thanks to Karen Hall at NatureScot for all her work on this.

Shetland is no stranger to wildlife films. Many folk will remember Hugh Miles “On The Track of The Wild Otter” and its accompanying book with beautiful illustrations by John Busby. He told me he hadn’t ever drawn an Otter before and tried to get his hands to move as an Otter does so as to capture their character. Yell man, famous naturalist and former RSPB Officer here, Bobby Tulloch, was crucial to this film and I love how his legacy of inspiration, passion and knowledge continues to well-known cameramen like Simon King, Gordon Buchanan and Charlie Hamilton-James. Each have helped to raise the profile of Shetland’s wildlife, as has Richard Shucksmith and the WIld Isles team.

People often wonder what they can do to help our precious marine environment and the species that live there. There are multiple pressures on the seas and coast and it can feel quite overwhelming. However, there are any number of things people can do to reduce their carbon footprint which will help tackle climate change. As well as citizen science projects, you can join in with beach cleans and support campaigns to ensure marine renewables are located with biodiversity impacts as a top priority. And there’s the simple act of sharing your appreciation of nature with others, introducing them to the marvels that are out there.

One final story that relates to Wild Isles is my experience last summer. We have long hours of daylight which, combined with the movements of ocean currents, results in plankton blooms. Tiny dinoflagellates emit light when the water moves, and that feature on Wild Isles was possibly my favourite part of the whole series. This bioluminescence in Shetland dialect is Mareel. I knew people had been swimming in it and I wanted to experience it for myself. At around midnight, I set off to the sandy beach at Levenwick, and I was a bit nervous as the Orca had been there around 9pm. Already, there were groups of people in and out of the water, and tiny dots of light were glowing on the strandline as the waves sparkled lapping at the shore. It had been a particularly overcast summer but that night the clouds cleared so we could see thousands of stars above, all of different intensities of light. I paddled into the sea, seeing sparkles of the same intensity all around me. I finally braved getting fully immersed in the sea. It was flipping freezing, but oh how it was worth it! I could blow underneath the water and see my breath causing lights to shine. The full moon was rising over Mousa (an RSPB Scotland nature reserve famous for Storm Petrels), the sky above me full of sparkles, the sea beneath me full of sparkles, and I felt sparkly on the inside with pure love, awe and gratitude for our wonderful natural world.

Helen Moncrieff is RSPB Scotland's Shetland Manager. All photos credited to Helen's brother, John Moncrieff. You can see more of John's nature photography here.