Carrick stands on Croft 11, Bun a Mhuillin, a township of 10 crofts along the north coast of Eriskay.  (There’s no croft 9.)  ^

We took over the tenancy in January 2008, after nearly a year working through procedures and politics of crofting.  By then the croft had been unoccupied for three years, and had not been worked (that is, had not produced anything - other than maybe a row or two of potatoes), for probably 30 years, after several decades of of neglect before that.  ^

Back in the 1950s, an appreciation for authentically local, quality food, grown in a way that conserves the fertility of the land, was still only the obsession of a few in south-east England. Today, The Soil Association that they founded is the leading force in the UK organic movement, at the heart of which we have ourselves - albeit in a very modest way - persevered for more than thirty years. ^

But far from being a swan-song, our work at Croft 11 is a new beginning. We’d learnt much from our previous efforts in self-sufficient gardening, whether in our tiny back garden in Shropshire or the huge walled garden we had in Bavaria; but here the growing season is so short, the soils so difficult and the weather so harsh and unpredictable, that we’ve pretty much had to re-learn almost everything: long-treasured and much-thumbed reference books stay on the shelf collecting dust! Yet there are compensations - even at a purely practical level: no air pollution or airborne dust - so summer sunshine here is as strong as it is is as far south as Anglesey; Long summer days - so much more can be done when it is most needed; an exceptionally low risk of frost or snow - allowing early planting out, largely offsetting shortness of the main growing season; and no foxes - so the chickens are safe. And then of course there’s the beauty of the unspoilt natural environment, and its abundant wildlife to inspire us. ^

Croft 11 - like many Hebridean crofts - consists of a long narrow strip of land running from the shore up to the foot of the hills, with shared common grazings on the high ground above. The croft is only about 80 metres wide, but more than 650m long, and orientated roughly NNW to SSE.  This amounts to about 5.5 hectares (14 acres). ^

Between the shore and the public road - including Carrick - amounts to about 1.2 hectare. This area is fenced off, and is referred to us as the ‘lower croft’.  In Scots such an enclosed area of improved grazing around the house is referred to as a ‘park’ (also the original meaning in English): Na Pairceanan in Eriskay is so called because so many of the crofts had land enclosed to keep livestock off the arable crops and the vegetables.  In our own park we’ve planted trees, soft fruit and we also grow some vegetables: the hens, ducks and geese don’t really bother with these, but the fence is necessary to keep the cattle and sheep out. ^

We’ve already done a lot of work in this park: as well as the fencing, we’ve built an access track, laid on water, restored an old byre and converted an old store - both now used as hen-houses, planted hundreds of native trees and bushes, cleared tonnes of debris and litter, planted and enclosed soft fruit bushes ...  But there’s so much to yet to do: the road is to be extended down to the buildings by the shore; the old ruined house is to be demolished and stone recovered for other building work (or rebuilt as a thatached house?); a ruined building restored as a byre. ^

The remaining 4.3 hectares or so, stretching from the road up to the hill fence - out of sight from the house - is unfenced (from the road and neighbouring crofts) and is essentially ‘unimproved’ - it’s mostly bare rock, heather and rush. In winter it really looks pretty dreary - and certainly the cattle, sheep and ponies coming down from the hill in autumn are more excited at the prospect of extra rations than the lushness of the grazing! But from spring through to autumn, with the livestock back up on the hill, the apparently barren slopes erupt into life, revealing an extraordinary diversity of plant life - ranging from specialized grasses to orchids and carnivorous succulents, a wealth of birdlife - , including eagles and hen-harriers, but above all insects - from dung and scarab beetles to rare bumble-bees. ^

Yet this is far from an untouched wilderness.  Many generations have toiled to wrest sustenance from this unpromising ground, with its unforgiving rock outcrops and all-too-rare pockets of deeper soil. Where soil is deep enough for cultivation, it is heavy sodden peat - extremely acidic and lacking nutrients: capable of improvement but only with extraordinary hard work. Seaweed, manure, accumulated knowledge, back-breaking hard work and a powerful instinct for survival, transformed these slopes each year into a patchwork of plenty. Even if the population of Eriskay recovers significantly in the years ahead - as assuredly it will as the islands benefit from the renewable energy revolution - it is unlikely that families will easily accept such a burden. In these present times, if the land is to be worked at all, new means and ends must be found - less labour-intensive and more rewarding. And that’s what we’re working towards! ^

It is very unlikely that the middle and upper parts of the croft  - the out-run - will ever be productive enough to justify fencing off from other crofts. We will therefore continue the traditional ‘open ‘ grazing, on the outrun,  Other crofters keep Blackface sheep and hardy cattle, and a few keep Eriskay ponies.  Our souming (an old Viking word) - that is our allowance for grazing the hill land in summer - is 10 sheep, 2 cows, 1 Eriskay pony (all plus their young under 1 year old). We intend to take up the full allowance: and already we have a small flock of black Hebridean sheep, and we plan in the course of time also to keep Highland cattle (possibly cows for milking) and an Eriskay pony: the latter to help with the heavy work around the croft.  So far, our plans are traditional.  Where we differ is that we will not attempt to grow oats or row vegetables, which are very labour intensive (although we will grow potatoes), but will instead fence off (with semi-permanent electric fencing) small areas where the soil is deep, adequately drained but not dry, and plant soft fruit.  ^

Over the past fifty years or so, a concern for the land and its productivity has found its place at the very centre of a web of interlocking trends and movements - and alas increasingly also fad and fashion - ranging from smallholding and self-sufficiency to co-operatives, alternative technology to wildlife conservation, and from whole foods to organic farming. Our lifetime’s experience and interests connect us in varying degrees with the whole spectrum, but here in Eriskay and South Uist we are right at the front line, working out the problems of making many of those aspirations a practical reality. Of particular relevance are: just about every food-related issue, except hydroponics (makes sense on a space- or ice- station. but not otherwise) and veganism; low intensity land-use; compassionate animal husbandry; conservation of soil fertility; preservation of biodiversity; preservation of indigenous languages and culture; self-reliance; renewable energy; ...  We care about all of these things - we believe we can make a difference - in what we do here. ^

It is of course tempting to think that reversing the decline and building the new model would be so much easier with a six-figure lottery win in the bank. And yes, easier it would be, yet for all that no more likely to be successful in the long term. No, the only way to win a sustainable living from a croft is through the day-by-day investment of a lifetime lived on and in harmony with the land and all that pertains to it - the soil, the vegetation, creatures both wild and domesticated,  the birds of the air and - certainly here - the sea and the weather.  By caring for and nurturing these gifts, we in return are fed and nurtured, not merely in terms of food and fuel, but in social and spiritual terms also.  ^

Practically speaking, though, a 15-acre Eriskay croft is barely capable of producing enough food - even allowing for trading of surpluses - to keep a family alive, let alone pay for house, utility bills, council taxes ... Except for the few with large machair crofts, crofting has never been a primary occupation, where other sources of income are available. In the past crofters were also fisherman, sailors, joiners, postmen: these days they - and their wives - are as likely to be air traffic controllers, teachers or freelance professionals.  In our own case, there is also professional work as a chartered civil engineer, our self-catering holiday accommodation, and craft-work. ^

Yet, no matter how substantial the household income from this formal employment, and no matter how meagre the earnings from the croft (due to lack of time), it remains the croft which provides the structure for life here in the Outer Hebrides, and characterizes the nature and quality of daily life.  For us, it was working the land - initially our historic walled kitchen garden, where we live in South Uist - which was our reason for coming to Uist in the first place; and now with the croft in Eriskay, provides day-by-day justification for staying and persevering against difficulties. And difficulties and set-backs there certainly are a-plenty! ^