The Relationship Between Scottish Island Communities and Shipwrecks

For many Scottish island communities, shipwrecks were a recurring, almost anticipated, event^[1]. The frequency of these disasters meant that they became deeply woven into the fabric of island life^[1]. In one year alone, 1798, the remains of no fewer than five vessels were found on the isle of Sanday, which is scarcely twelve miles long^[1]. The regularity of such occurrences led to a certain pragmatism, with some inhabitants even remarking that 'if wrecks were to happen, they might as well be sent to the poor isle of Sanday as anywhere else'^[1].

The islanders ingeniously repurposed materials salvaged from shipwrecks^[1]. Examples of this resourcefulness included using ship-timbers, such as cedar-wood and mahogany from Honduras-built ships, to build walls and enclosures^[1]. In one instance, following the wreck of a ship laden with wine, islanders were known to drink claret with their barley-meal porridge^[1]. This highlights a practical approach to utilizing available resources, transforming misfortune into a means of sustenance and improvement in their daily lives.

While shipwrecks provided valuable resources, the ethical implications were complex^[1]. The line between offering assistance and exploiting misfortune often blurred^[1]. The account describes an incident where, in the Pentland Firth, an amphitheatre of placid spectators on the beach callously awaited the harvest of the sea, their children stood by their side and waited also^[1]. The people made no emotion, scarce seemed any interest; not a hand was raised; but all callously awaited the harvest of the sea^[1]. This 'wrecker' mentality, though perhaps born out of necessity and the harsh realities of island life, raises questions about the moral boundaries of these communities^[1].

The construction of lighthouses aimed to mitigate the dangers of the Scottish coast and reduce the frequency of shipwrecks^[1]. However, this development was not universally welcomed by the islanders^[1]. One pilot humorously complained that 'Had it been His will that you came na' here wi' your lights, we might' a' had better sails to our boats, and more o' other things'^[1]. This suggests that some islanders recognized the economic benefits derived from shipwrecks and viewed the lighthouses as a threat to their traditional way of life^[1].

Superstition played a significant role in the islanders' relationship with the sea and shipwrecks^[1]. A common belief held that a man rescued from the sea would prove the bane of his deliverer^[1]. This superstition reflects a deep-seated understanding of nature's power, and it shows possible danger in interfering with the natural course of events^[1]. The insular nature of these communities fostered unique belief systems where practical need intertwined with a sense of caution and reverence for the sea.

Land ownership in the islands was intertwined with the potential for profiting from shipwrecks^[1]. It may further be mentioned that when some of Lord Dundas's farms are to be let in these islands a competition takes place for the lease, and it is bona fide understood that a much higher rent is paid than the lands would otherwise give were it not for the chance of making considerably by the agency and advantages attending shipwrecks on the shores of the respective farms'^[1]. Such practices underscore the economic importance of shipwrecks as an integral part of island economies.