Old Man of Hoy

Image from the Scottish Tourist Board

Thinking of standing stones takes me back a few decades, to my first trip to Scotland. We travelled to the Orkney Isles on a ferry through the incredible scenery of that region.

But the thing that fascinated me most was the Old Man of Hoy, a soaring pillar of sandstone rock that towered over Rackwick Bay on the island for which it was named.

The Old Man of Hoy stood on two `legs’ with an arch between them and that was how I first saw him in the 50s. Once he was part of the headland, but the stormy seas gradually carved him into a pillar of rock.

The Old Man became an irresistable lure to climbers in the 60s. The first ascent party was led by Chris Bonnington in 1966, and the climb was shown on TV. Like Sydney’s Harbour Bridge, climbing the Old Man became a goal for thrill seeking tourists, and at its peak, there were up to 50 parties a year making the ascent.

But sandstone is not an ednuring substance – the sea continues to pound at the Old Man and erosion has washed away one of the legs, and collapsed the arch. It is estimated that the Old Man will collapse sometime this century. The increasing danger didn’t stop thrillseekers from trying to climb it though and as a result many climbers have fallen to their deaths.

As I recall my first sight of the Old Man, it seems icredible to me now that he should be facing the end of his vigil over the sea. To me he was a symbol of tremendous strength and endurance as the waves crashed about the basalt plinth on which he stood. He seemed such a uniquely Celtic icon, unmoved by the harshness of the scenery, and I felt a strong kinship with him as I clung to the boat rail and felt the wild salt spray stinging my face.

I even wrote a poem for him – not very good, but I offer it now in the Land of Standing Stones, to one of the most memorable standing stones of my experience.

Old Man of Hoy,
When you were a boy,
Did you love the sea
As much as me?

Did your mother scold you
And cry as she told you
To come home to tea
And leave the wild sea?

But you stayed there alone
Until your feet turned to stone
And you were no more a boy,
But the Old Man of Hoy.