When I was house hunting here last February I was initially attracted to properties right by the coast. I wanted to be able to see, hear and smell the sea from my kitchen. On hearing this one property seller proudly announced that on stormy days the waves could come right over her house roof. Perhaps not the best sales pitch: I wasn’t sure if I quite believed her, but I relegated the property to the bottom of the pile and began to look further inland.

Two days ago a combination of Spring (very high) tides and an onshore wind drove the sea to well above its usual level. From our high altitude  – on this flat island a 10 metre contour is a high point – we didn’t notice much difference in the sea level. However, travelling along the north coastal road to visit friends involved driving through axle-high seawater with waves hitting the Landrover at regular intervals. This delighted the boys and was a great way to identify where the Landrover is leaking (through all the doors and windows and the roof, as it turns out). The brilliant thing about a diesel engine is that it doesn’t conk out even when driving through deep water.

Along the southern coastal road conditions were even more hair-raising. Waves crashed over the embankment, dumping seaweed, rocks and other debris onto the road and beyond, into fields and gardens. And yes, the bigger waves were seen to go right over the roof of one coastal house and land in the back garden. Now I believe the tale.  The road resembled a beach with its usual quota of fish boxes, old boots, netting and plastic bottles. We had to negotiate our way around a fifty-yard length of fencing, complete with stobs. Has anyone living south of here lost their fence recently?

The seas surrounding Orkney are moved by a complex combination of tides and currents. If you look at a map you can see why. The tides of the Atlantic Ocean to the west of mainland Britain and the North Sea to the east converge on Orkney with different timings and strengths. Further complicating this are various oceanic currents – the North Atlantic Drift, a sub-surface Mediterranean current and a Fair Isle to Orkney current – which combine to cause a complex flow of waters through the island sounds.  The result can be a flattening of the tides, as all the various systems effectively cancel each other out. Or it can lead to huge tides and dangerously fast currents and tidal races.

The Churchill Barriers – causeways built to connect the southern islands with Orkney Mainland and protect the 2^nd World War Fleet anchorage in Scapa Flow – cause a further twist by preventing the flow of water between west and east. Tide information for Orkney is therefore complicated. Rather than there being one high tide, often the tides will be different heights and times in different parts of the archipelago. Overall there is an almost circular flow of water around Orkney. 

I realise now that even living half a mile inland, the sea can still be seen, heard and smelt. Our windows get encrusted with salt and our garden plants have to be salt tolerant. It’s possible to be too close to the sea for comfort after all, and I should be careful what I wish for.