The driving force of the ocean can change the character of a stretch of coastline overnight. I am in awe of the sheer energy and power with which the sea can shift sand dunes or carve caves into rocks or fling a wrecked ship or a whale carcass onto a sweep of sand. 

The islanders have always made good use of the flotsam and jetsam of the ocean. It is said that the people here used to pray for shipwrecks, which provided wood for building or burning plus the unknown bonus of whatever cargo was on board. In my byre are about 50 neatly stacked wooden pit props – the remnants of a massive load shed by a cargo ship passing the island a few years ago. Not as exciting as “Whiskey Galore” but probably more useful.

Every time we return to our local beach it has altered. Sometimes the changes are subtle – a shift in the lie of the sand or a deposit of larger shells and pebbles. The storms of a few weeks ago brought a dramatic change. The next time we made our way along the Ware Road – the name of the coastal track that leads us to this beach – we halted at the edge of the dunes, shocked by the black shore. A “ware brack” – a whole heap of seaweed (“tangles”) – had been washed ashore and piled high along the length of the bay. 

For Orkney, seaweed has been a big money spinner in the past. It is a rich source of potash, soda, iodine and alginates. Kelp (the product of burning seaweed) export was big business in the 18^th and 19^th centuries to cater for the needs of soap and glass industries and tangles were exported for alginate extraction until the end of the 20^th century. 

I have recently been lent a great wee book called “Kelp-making in Orkney” by William Thomson so on the occasions when I get the boys to bed and still have some energy (not often) I read a bit. In the last week I have learnt that those seaweeds growing between high and low water mark, are known as “tang” whereas those growing at or below low tide are known as “ware”. Tang and ware come in many forms – bow-tang, paddy-tang, prickly tang, mirkle, honey-ware, hen-ware. Tang is rich in potash and soda. The “tangle” (long stalk) of ware is laden with iodine. Where is my biology degree now?

Imagine you are a kelp-maker. To make kelp, first drag your tang or ware up the beach. Lay the strands out to dry then burn them in pit kilns for many hours. Whenever a gale brings a ware brack ashore, be it autumn, winter or spring, then everyone, including children, must work to drag the tangles inland to dry for kelp or to fertilise your farmland. But the best time to gather tang is in the summer, between the spring crop sowing and autumn haymaking. To make use of the long hours of daylight you must work from 2am to 11pm, occasionally stopping to eat, take a nap or dry your feet. It is cold, wet toil and much less fun than your predecessor’s annual summer activity of launching Viking raids on neighbouring islands. And to add insult to injury, your laird pockets the considerable profits.