A Weekend of Island Shepherding
Friday afternoon on a chilly weekend in June, we sat on the stern of a boat called the Blue Heron, steaming out of Spruce Head miles into the Atlantic. A curtain of fog parted before us and swished shut immediately behind, allowing us just to pass and nothing more. I remembered making that trip many times as a child, in fog or sun or rain, and now I sat with my own children beside me, wrapped up in sweaters and peering through the mist to make out laughing gulls and guillemonts bobbing on the surface.
Joy and excitement stirred as the green outline of Metinic broke through the fog, but the purpose of our trip was not for recreation - no! We were here to work, like generations of shepherds before us. For over an incredible 300 years, sheep have been kept on the island, in an unbroken lineage that bears testament to the benefits of island shepherding, both for ovine health and the thousands of birds that nest on the island due to the conditions the sheep maintain.
We rowed into shore, making peace with being damp for the weekend. Of course, we were not alone, in fact Lee, a local farming legend who manages the flock on the island, had amassed his largest crew yet. But among these were familiar faces from days gone by, along with new sheep-friends. Even packing light, we came with a sizeable amount of dunnage, which required lugging and sacking up and down ramps to the cabin.
The cabin itself is a marvel, passed down through the family that first purchased the island hundreds of years ago. We stayed in the bunkhouse upstairs where shepherds of days gone by and modernity write their names in the rafters. What fun it was to add my kids’ names to mine and my husband’s!
The remainder of the evening was spent laughing and reminiscing over cups of tea and games of cribbage. But in the morning, the head shepherds came up with a plan and we got to work!
First was the south end drive. There’s a legend that says there were once two brothers on the island. They had some sort of falling-out and one brother took his sheep to the north end, and the other to the south, and the sheep stay apart to this day. Legend or no, the sheep are definitely hefted to their own areas of the island, making drives challenging since each bunch is reluctant to leave their predetermined boundaries.
But a quick sweep and we had the south-enders captured and settled.
Now, for the north end. Here we faced enchanted forests, enormous ferns, ragged cliffs, bayberry scrub, and the possibility of being carried away by fairies if we weren’t careful where we walked.
But between some clever dogs and dogged people, we swept up the flock and bumped them along to the pens. This was not without its challenges of course - Davey had to make a jumping tackle to prevent a ewe from bolting into the drink (single sheep behave erratically and do not “flock”). We adjured him to use his wrestling expertise and he secured her, and we lugged her back to safety.
Our cooks prepared a beautiful and delicious lunch, but we couldn’t rest on our laurels for long - it was time to shear and process lambs. Now, a peculiar and wonderful thing is happening, to where instead of shearers being few and far between, it seems the sport is multiplying rapidly. We had seven shearers and two students, and the ewes were shearing so beautifully we were practically fighting over who got to shear those glossy locks.
I am excited to tell you that Elsie sheared her first sheep on Metinic! With some help and guidance from the pros, she sheared three ewes and was pleased as punch.
It was at this time that the sun broke through and we went from hypothermic shivering to sunburnt in a matter of minutes. But it made for great shearing weather with the lanolin up in the wool and the fleeces dry and pretty. Lambs were counted and tagged, rams were separated, and at last we emptied the catch pens and headed back to the cabin for rest and supper.
Our last day on the island, we got up to look for stragglers and do some maintenance. The north end of the island hosts a bird sanctuary, and we were treated to the spectacular site of nesting seabirds. The kids and I along with some other smart young people were able to respectfully observe the nesting sites as chicks were emerging this very weekend. Arctic terns, common terns, laughing gulls, herring gulls, black-backed gulls, eiders…too many to name…call Metinitic home. The sheep clip the grass near the shore low, which provides more nesting area for these birds. The chicks leave the nest shortly after hatching, but if tall, wet, grass surrounds the nest, they flounder and are lost. This is something we have witnessed on every island we’ve shepherded on - the mutually beneficial relationship between birds and sheep.
We packed up and said goodbye to the cabin and our friends, loaded up the boats and sailed for home, with the feeling of satisfaction that only comes from being thoroughly tired-out, beat-up, and muck-covered, knowing home and hearth will soon be before us (and a shower too).
Tired out boys
Pirates I think
The amazing Mary Lake!
Scarlet Pimpernel
Mary and I were kindred spirits, not only by bringing the next generation of shepherds to train but also enjoying all the whimsical natural beauty around us.
Eiders
Herring Gull Chicks
Old Whale Bones
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