ISLANDS AT THE EDGE OF THE WORLD
After four hours at the bow of a small boat, straining my eyes at a nondescript dot on the Atlantic horizon, I have finally made it. I’m about to set foot on the archipelago of St Kilda, that famously remote scattering of rugged little islands that erupt from storm-tossed waters off Scotland’s west coast.
Raucous cries echo from the cliffs that tower over the boat as we cruise into Village Bay. A thick cloud of puffins, razorbills and guillemots circles above and the sour smell of faeces from a million seabirds slices through the salty air.
It’s summer 2018, my fourth year of leading wildlife cruises to St Kilda (and 18 months before trips here would grind to a halt with the advent of COVID-19). To be greeted by uncharacteristically calm seas, sunny skies and the din of several hundred thousand screaming seabirds is a spectacular welcome back.
Running ashore by Zodiac, I lead my guests onto Hirta, the largest
