Six miles north of the Scottish mainland sits the remote, uninhabited island of Swona. This 270ac island lies just three miles off the west coast of South Ronaldsay, Orkney. Despite its proximity to Orkney, the tides that surround Swona are some of the strongest and most unpredictable in the world.
It is difficult to reach, even in the summer months, but its inaccessibility has also proved helpful in the preservation of the unique character of the island. The north end of the island has several houses and outbuildings in various stages of dilapidation. The safest access to the island is The Haven, a natural harbour located on the northeast side of the island.
History of the island
Swona wasn’t always uninhabited and was once home to over 30 people, with the population remaining relatively stable between 1821 and 1921. After World War I the population declined as inhabitants left in a bid to pursue employment.
The last residents were brother and sister James and Violet Rosie, who left in March 1974 and moved to South Ronaldsay when they were in their 70s. James was the sole proprietor of Swona at this time and in 1985 the island was inherited by his nephews, brothers Cyril and Martin Annal, who continue to reside and farm on South Ronaldsay.
Commenting on the challenges of living on such a remote island, Cyril says: “The islanders had a hard life. Their boats had to be handled and maintained constantly and so it became totally impractical for them to live there.”
James and Violet left to live with family on South Ronaldsay and so their home, Rose Cottage, was left almost entirely as it had been when they lived there.
The last residents to leave Swona were siblings James and Violet Rosie, who left Rose Cottage in 1974. \ Lindsay Reid
Swona cattle
Today, Swona is perhaps best renowned for the herd of feral cattle that live there, known simply as the ‘Swona cattle’. Prior to their departure, the islanders kept a small herd of cattle on head bands, each cow was exceptionally friendly and well looked after.
The cattle were predominantly used for milking and ploughing with a small number of young cattle being sold off the island. When the islanders left, they left behind eight Shorthorn and Aberdeen Angus crosses and one Aberdeen Angus bull.
Cyril, Martin and their father, Sandy Annal, previously had the intention of farming the island in conjunction with their own farms, and they planned to gather the cattle once a year and sell the offspring along with those from their farms on South Ronaldsay.
When moving the cattle to the boat, both a halter and a neck rope had to be used. There were three men on each rope, so it took six men to try and get one beast on to the boat
The practicalities and feasibility of this soon became untenable. The cattle had quickly reverted to their feral nature and proved to be increasingly difficult to handle. In addition, there were no cattle handling facilities on the island. The first time that they attempted to take the cattle off, they were herded into geos around the island before being loaded on to the boat.
Gerry Wilson, a local vet at the time, was approached by Sandy to help during one of the initial attempts to move the cattle to the farms on South Ronaldsay.
“We gathered all of the cattle into an old house with no roof, but all the walls were standing. There were about 35 animals, males of all ages, some had been castrated from when the islanders had farmed there and were about five years old,” says Gerry.
He adds: “Once gathered, I sedated nine of the males, of varying ages, and we left them to settle. When moving the cattle to the boat, both a halter and a neck rope had to be used. There were three men on each rope, so it took six men to try and get one beast on to the boat.
“The boat was a barge with a lorry-back on it, so more cattle could be transferred in the one trip.”
Transferring the cattle off the island was a huge undertaking and unfortunately nearly all of the Swona cattle died once on South Ronaldsay.
Gerry believes this was predominantly due to pneumonia developing in the cattle once off the island, which was likely due to stress combined with a lack of immunity to other diseases present on the mainland.
However, two of the animals were injured during the transfer to South Ronaldsay and were butchered. Gerry found the carcases of the animals to be in good order but was shocked by the state of the liver and the damage that had been caused by liver fluke.
He explains that the fluke was so great that they had worn cavities in the liver, with the cavity walls becoming hardened over time. Gerry described it as being like alkathene pipe with some of the cavities being as large as his small finger.
The density of fluke in the Swona cattle is believed to be caused by the accessibility to the marshy areas. However, the level of fluke present in the cattle has not affected their condition score as greatly as expected. The dangers of handling the cattle outweighed any benefit or profitability and so they were left to fend for themselves and have continued to survive remarkably well.
When the cattle were first left, the herd consisted of eight Shorthorn and Aberdeen Angus crosses as well as one Aberdeen Angus bull. \ Alan Cooper.
Life for cattle on Swona today
There are 16 cattle on the island, including two calves from this spring. Sadly, there have been five fallen cattle found on the island that didn’t last the winter – this is the most fallen cattle to be seen at any one time.
The cattle survive on the grassland and eat weathered grass during the winter months. The herd has entirely reverted back to a feral nature with a strong herd mentality and hierarchy in place.
One dominant bull remains with the herd while the mature banished bulls live away from the herd. The Swona cattle continue to survive with a lack of human intervention and are a good example of breeding through natural selection.
During winter, they use the remaining buildings on the island for shelter. They are exempt from any livestock testing or veterinary intervention, and are not registered with BCMS. Two cows have had to be euthanised in recent years due to being injured on the shoreline and being physically unable to survive or rejoin the herd.
The herd is recognised as a breed of their own in conjunction with The World Dictionary of Livestock Breeds, Types and Varieties. Although, they are yet to be recognised as a rare breed in conjunction with the Rare Breeds Survival Trust as they have not been in existence for an ample period of time.
The island receives environmental subsidy payments for the preservation of the land rather than payments for the cattle. The island’s inaccessibility has allowed it to revert back to nature and provide a valuable home for birds, flora and fauna.
Swona is recognised as both a Site of Specific Scientific Interest (SSSI) and a Special Protection Area (SPA), and while the cattle cannot be sold commercially, they are able to help with maintaining the unique habitat. The future of the herd remains uncertain, with their ever present vulnerability and extinction inevitable. However, they have provided an insight into the hardiness and resilience of the same domestic cattle that are standing in our fields right now.
Six miles north of the Scottish mainland sits the remote, uninhabited island of Swona. This 270ac island lies just three miles off the west coast of South Ronaldsay, Orkney. Despite its proximity to Orkney, the tides that surround Swona are some of the strongest and most unpredictable in the world.
It is difficult to reach, even in the summer months, but its inaccessibility has also proved helpful in the preservation of the unique character of the island. The north end of the island has several houses and outbuildings in various stages of dilapidation. The safest access to the island is The Haven, a natural harbour located on the northeast side of the island.
History of the island
Swona wasn’t always uninhabited and was once home to over 30 people, with the population remaining relatively stable between 1821 and 1921. After World War I the population declined as inhabitants left in a bid to pursue employment.
The last residents were brother and sister James and Violet Rosie, who left in March 1974 and moved to South Ronaldsay when they were in their 70s. James was the sole proprietor of Swona at this time and in 1985 the island was inherited by his nephews, brothers Cyril and Martin Annal, who continue to reside and farm on South Ronaldsay.
Commenting on the challenges of living on such a remote island, Cyril says: “The islanders had a hard life. Their boats had to be handled and maintained constantly and so it became totally impractical for them to live there.”
James and Violet left to live with family on South Ronaldsay and so their home, Rose Cottage, was left almost entirely as it had been when they lived there.
The last residents to leave Swona were siblings James and Violet Rosie, who left Rose Cottage in 1974. \ Lindsay Reid
Swona cattle
Today, Swona is perhaps best renowned for the herd of feral cattle that live there, known simply as the ‘Swona cattle’. Prior to their departure, the islanders kept a small herd of cattle on head bands, each cow was exceptionally friendly and well looked after.
The cattle were predominantly used for milking and ploughing with a small number of young cattle being sold off the island. When the islanders left, they left behind eight Shorthorn and Aberdeen Angus crosses and one Aberdeen Angus bull.
Cyril, Martin and their father, Sandy Annal, previously had the intention of farming the island in conjunction with their own farms, and they planned to gather the cattle once a year and sell the offspring along with those from their farms on South Ronaldsay.
When moving the cattle to the boat, both a halter and a neck rope had to be used. There were three men on each rope, so it took six men to try and get one beast on to the boat
The practicalities and feasibility of this soon became untenable. The cattle had quickly reverted to their feral nature and proved to be increasingly difficult to handle. In addition, there were no cattle handling facilities on the island. The first time that they attempted to take the cattle off, they were herded into geos around the island before being loaded on to the boat.
Gerry Wilson, a local vet at the time, was approached by Sandy to help during one of the initial attempts to move the cattle to the farms on South Ronaldsay.
“We gathered all of the cattle into an old house with no roof, but all the walls were standing. There were about 35 animals, males of all ages, some had been castrated from when the islanders had farmed there and were about five years old,” says Gerry.
He adds: “Once gathered, I sedated nine of the males, of varying ages, and we left them to settle. When moving the cattle to the boat, both a halter and a neck rope had to be used. There were three men on each rope, so it took six men to try and get one beast on to the boat.
“The boat was a barge with a lorry-back on it, so more cattle could be transferred in the one trip.”
Transferring the cattle off the island was a huge undertaking and unfortunately nearly all of the Swona cattle died once on South Ronaldsay.
Gerry believes this was predominantly due to pneumonia developing in the cattle once off the island, which was likely due to stress combined with a lack of immunity to other diseases present on the mainland.
However, two of the animals were injured during the transfer to South Ronaldsay and were butchered. Gerry found the carcases of the animals to be in good order but was shocked by the state of the liver and the damage that had been caused by liver fluke.
He explains that the fluke was so great that they had worn cavities in the liver, with the cavity walls becoming hardened over time. Gerry described it as being like alkathene pipe with some of the cavities being as large as his small finger.
The density of fluke in the Swona cattle is believed to be caused by the accessibility to the marshy areas. However, the level of fluke present in the cattle has not affected their condition score as greatly as expected. The dangers of handling the cattle outweighed any benefit or profitability and so they were left to fend for themselves and have continued to survive remarkably well.
When the cattle were first left, the herd consisted of eight Shorthorn and Aberdeen Angus crosses as well as one Aberdeen Angus bull. \ Alan Cooper.
Life for cattle on Swona today
There are 16 cattle on the island, including two calves from this spring. Sadly, there have been five fallen cattle found on the island that didn’t last the winter – this is the most fallen cattle to be seen at any one time.
The cattle survive on the grassland and eat weathered grass during the winter months. The herd has entirely reverted back to a feral nature with a strong herd mentality and hierarchy in place.
One dominant bull remains with the herd while the mature banished bulls live away from the herd. The Swona cattle continue to survive with a lack of human intervention and are a good example of breeding through natural selection.
During winter, they use the remaining buildings on the island for shelter. They are exempt from any livestock testing or veterinary intervention, and are not registered with BCMS. Two cows have had to be euthanised in recent years due to being injured on the shoreline and being physically unable to survive or rejoin the herd.
The herd is recognised as a breed of their own in conjunction with The World Dictionary of Livestock Breeds, Types and Varieties. Although, they are yet to be recognised as a rare breed in conjunction with the Rare Breeds Survival Trust as they have not been in existence for an ample period of time.
The island receives environmental subsidy payments for the preservation of the land rather than payments for the cattle. The island’s inaccessibility has allowed it to revert back to nature and provide a valuable home for birds, flora and fauna.
Swona is recognised as both a Site of Specific Scientific Interest (SSSI) and a Special Protection Area (SPA), and while the cattle cannot be sold commercially, they are able to help with maintaining the unique habitat. The future of the herd remains uncertain, with their ever present vulnerability and extinction inevitable. However, they have provided an insight into the hardiness and resilience of the same domestic cattle that are standing in our fields right now.
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