Getting away to the Scottish islands

• Looking across from Canna to Sanday Picture: Andrew O'Brien

THERE are no shopping malls and, in some cases, not even a shop. There are no traffic jams and perhaps no more than one road. There is unlikely to be a police officer or even a doctor.

There is a dependence on the weather, the need to do more than one job and a strong sense of isolation.

Not everyone could cope with island life, but there are a growing number who want to try. Many seek to escape, to find peace away from the city or to have the freedom and ability to help themselves and their community in a way that David Cameron might label the "Big Society".

At the last Census in 2001, Scotland's 95 inhabited islands had 99,494 residents, a drop of 3,263 in ten years. About 90,000 of this population live on 44 islands and the smaller communities are constantly on the lookout for new families to remain viable.

The National Trust for Scotland (NTS) has recently appointed Stewart Connor as manager of the island of Canna. Part of his job will be to help bring in more people, and the population now stands at 20.

The trust is renovating a disused crofthouse to attract a new family and it is hoped to raise numbers to around 30 eventually.

Nearby Muck is waiting to see if its latest appeal for new blood has been successful, with three families keen to add to the 30-strong community.

There is no shortage of demand. Earlier this year when the chance to run Canna's cafe was advertised, the NTS received 60 expressions of interest from the UK and abroad. In 2006 when two properties were offered to rent on the island there were more than 400 inquiries from as far afield as Canada and Africa.

A year earlier, the chance to rent two houses on Fair isle, seen as the most remote inhabited island in Britain, brought about 94 applications, including 70 from America and others from the UK, Australia and Hungary. There is even a suggestion that families might return to St Kilda.

Alexander Bennett, the trust's group manager for the north's countryside and islands, said: "A lot of people who apply to come to places like this have a romantic view of living on an island. Quite frankly some of them look through rose-tinted glasses and have no handle on the reality of it.

"The vast majority of people are dreamers and they will not last."

He said it is important for the community that people can come in and stay long-term: "A question we like to ask is, 'Are you are at one with yourself?' If someone comes with problems and think they are going to sort them out on an island, I'm sorry but the island will sort them out and they won't last. We have seen them all.

"People have to be prepared to contribute to the community, to muck in and be prepared to be flexible. It takes a special type of person."

On Muck an appeal for new residents was made after a family left when their children reached secondary school age and were faced with being boarded out at Mallaig on the mainland.

Lawrence MacEwen, the island's owner, received 40 applications from would-be residents eager to join the community. Two of the families have four children and one has two. They would boost the island's primary, where the roll has dropped from seven to two.A shortlist of three has been drawn up and a decision will be made in about a month.

Mr MacEwen said: "We are looking for one family as we only have one house available. It's always a gamble. We have had failure, but also tremendous success."

RUM

DAVE BEATON came to live on Rum five years ago and says he won't leave – even when he dies.

Formerly a supervisor slinger for cranes in Edinburgh, where he worked on the Traverse Theatre renovations, he was also a tree surgeon before moving to the island where he has earned the nickname Dave Chainsaw because of his skill at making sculptures using the unusual carving tool.

Now contracted to Highland Council as the island's pier master, he is due to get married next April to Sylvia Stirling whom he met while she was visiting Rum on an environmental studies trip.

"Coming here was the best decision I ever made in my life," he says.

The 26,000-acre island had a population peak of 440 in the late 18th century. It has been owned by Scottish Natural Heritage and its predecessor the Nature Conservancy Council since 1957.

People living there were almost totally reliant on the conservation body, which owned every building except the primary school and every house apart from the teacher's accommodation.

But last year the 17 eligible voters among the island's 29-strong population decided 15-2 for greater autonomy and a community trust took over land and assets around the village of Kinloch.

Dave says: "The whole atmosphere is beginning to improve after taking over from SNH and both parties are getting used to the idea of what's going on."

At the moment he lives in a caravan with no power and no phone line, with running water provided by the nearby river, although he plans to build a house in future.

"Island life suits me and I take things in my stride as I want to live here," he says. "I like the pace of life and don't miss the lifestyle of the city.

"I'm not going anywhere now. I've already spoken to the minister to get a burial place sorted out. It sounds a bit morbid but there's no way I'm going off the island now."

FAIR ISLE

In 2006, Tommy Hyndman, his wife Liz and son Henry gave up their home in upstate New York to start a new life on the most remote inhabited island in Britain.

The had lived in Saratoga Springs, just over three hours from New York City. From a centre with a population of about 35,000, some 100 restaurants, a wide range of department stores and a number of museums and arts centres, they moved to Fair Isle, which has just 70 residents and is a two-and-a-half-hour ferry journey from their nearest neighbours. The island has no pub, hotel or restaurant and just a small primary school, bird observatory and shop.

Tommy says: "We went looking for a change and there is definitely nothing like this.

"In America I lived in a city of 35,000 people and hung out with about 60-70 of them. Here there are only 60-70 people.

"Places like this have all the conflicts of a larger place but just on a smaller scale. You have to compromise. It is a case of there being all chiefs and no Indians. You find out who people are and who you really are."

The couple run a guest house on the island. Tommy, who had a hat-making business in America, still makes some items for visitors and has created a studio for his paintings and sculptures in a converted building at the South Lighthouse.

He has also recreated a six-hole golf course originally laid out for keepers from the lighthouses at both tips of the island, lost when the facilities were de-manned in the 1970s.

His wife, who has a journalism degree, works as a classroom assistant and provides social care for elderly people. She is also making a documentary about the family's adventure.

Son Henry, now nine, is also enjoying the freedom of island life. Tommy says: "He loves the outdoors and nature. It's also great for him to be to able to ride a bike a mile to school without us worrying.

"When we go away now he wonders why no-one stops to speak to him or offers him a lift like they do here."

EDAY

Stephen WALTERS and his wife Ronie, both 35, moved 550 miles north from Staffordshire, where they lived on a narrowboat, to set up home in the Orkney island of Eday in December.

After a 27 per cent drop in population from 166 in 1991 to 121 in 2001, the island has seen numbers recover in recent years after a series of community projects initiated by the Eday Partnership.

In the last five to six years the number of residents has risen to 150, with 17 arriving in 2008 alone.

One initiative is the Gateway House, which provides rented accommodation for short periods to give people an opportunity to gain experience of island life.

The Walters are the first residents to use the accommodation, but have already decided to sell their boat and build a new home on the island.

Stephen is now the partnership's carbon reduction project officer, helping to reduce the island's carbon footprint.

He said: "I saw the job and it was something I was passionate about so felt it was definitely worth looking into. The chance to do this job and take our four children to live in a small island was just too good a chance to pass up.

"The Gateway House is a great idea and we wouldn't have been able to come here without it. Its given us a chance to find our feet. It's working out well and we love the place. I wish I'd done this ten years ago."

The couple's children Rhiannon,12, Lilith, 10, Morwenna, 6, and Ned, 5, have also settled in well. Stephen says: "The last school the kids were in was in Stoke where they were in classes of 32. In Eday there are nine in total."

Ronie is starting a caf on the island and possibly a community bakery. She also does voluntary work with the local development trust and is treasurer of the heritage centre association.

Stephen added: "Family and friends have visited us and really enjoyed

it. They can see exactly why I love it here and say I've found my niche.

"I don't miss anything. We have a community-owned shop and no supermarket. I think that is brilliant. All the disadvantages that other people see, I see as benefits."

MUCK

Mark JOHNSON, 35, had been visiting the Small Isles for ten years before deciding to move permanently last September from Musselburgh. He now lives on the island of Muck with partner Molly Fitch, 33, and daughter Kitty, two.

He worked for a financial services company in Edinburgh and Molly worked for Historic Scotland in the capital. Now he makes wooden toys and helps dock the Caledonian MacBrayne ferry, while she is a clerical assistant in the island school.

"The view from my office window used to be of a car park, now I look out to the island of Rum," said Mark. "We wanted to bring up Kitty somewhere like this rather than in a city. She loves it and can just run around without us having to worry about traffic and things like that.

"Its not been as hard as we expected, particularly the winter which we thought would be tougher. Even when the gales have been blowing we have been fine."

He said he is building up his business to boost income: "We are not relying on it at the moment. We sold the house and have a bit of leeway in that we can take our time and develop things."

He said they have had to make compromises to accommodate island living. Muck has no mains electricity, the island being powered by a community-run wind power scheme which has replaced individual diesel generators.

"We don't have 24-hour electricity and we have to go to the mainland now and again for shopping. But you have to be flexible.

"Island life is not for everyone, but it suits us. You need to adapt. Folk come here with preconceived ideas and then its not how they expected it.

"I can see us being here for some time. The next big decision we have to make is when Kitty becomes a teenager and will have to leave to go to school in Mallaig, but that is some time off yet."

CANNA

Stewart CONNOR, 48, moved from Largs in Ayrshire four weeks ago to manage Canna on behalf of the National Trust for Scotland.

Canna, just 4.5 miles long and one mile wide, supported a human population of more than 400 people in 1821.

But that has plummeted over the years, and last month the former building surveyor and project manager became the 20th current resident on the island which has no shop or pub, no major roads and no mobile phone coverage, while the nearest doctor is a boat trip away on the island of Eigg.

Part of his job will be to build the population up to around a more sustainable 30-35 and help manage the island's 30,000 visitors a year.

Stewart says he was attracted to the island by the job and his strong interest in Scottish culture. The island was left to the NTS by the Gaelic folklorist and scholar John Lorne Campbell in 1981 and Canna House holds a substantial collection of Gaelic literature.

Stewart says: "The community here is bursting with ideas and a large part of my job will be to work closely with them to look at how we can develop the island in the future."

He said he is not deterred by the remoteness: "Living somewhere as remote as Canna you have to be organised and you have to work hard at it," he said. "It's not an easy life. It's an idyllic place but not necessarily an idyllic life."