The British Isles are remarkable for their extraordinary seabird life: spectacular gatherings of charismatic Arctic terns, elegant fulmars and stoic eiders, to name just a few. Often found in the most remote and dramatic reaches of our shores, these colonies are landscapes shaped not by us but by the birds.
In 2015, Stephen Rutt escaped his hectic, anxiety-inducing life in London for the bird observatory on North Ronaldsay, the most northerly of the Orkney Islands. In thrall to these windswept havens and the people and birds that inhabit them, he began a journey to the edges of Britain. From Shetland, to the Farnes of Northumberland, down to the Welsh islands off the Pembrokeshire coast, he explores the part seabirds have played in our history and what they continue to mean to Britain today.
The Seafarers is the story of those travels: a love letter, written from the rocks and the edges, for the salt-stained, isolated and ever-changing lives of seabirds. This beguiling book reveals what it feels like to be immersed in a completely wild landscape, examining the allure of the remote in an over-crowded world.
“The writing lures you in, making you feel that you too might benefit from venturing out in inclement weather, just on the off-chance of seeing something remarkable on the wing to lift your spirits” – The National
"A beautifully illuminating portrait of lives lived largely on the wing and at sea . . . In this intimate guide to the wild beauty and complexity of seabirds, Stephen Rutt has written a powerful chronicle of resilience and fragility' -- Julian Hoffman, author of Irreplaceable and The Small Heart of Things
“An evocative book … I could taste the salt on my lips and smell the perfume of storm petrels. The Seafarers is a pelagic poem about the birds that exist at the coastal edges of our islands and consciousness. The stories of these hardy birds entwine seamlessly with Stephen Rutt's personal journey to form a narrative as natural and flowing as the passage of shearwater along the face of Atlantic rollers” -- Jon Dunn, author of Orchid Summer
“An arrestingly vivid turn of phrase… An accomplished debut from an exciting new voice in Nature writing.” -- The Countryman Magazine
“5*… One of those great joys of a book … I look forward to reading the next book from this author, although I acknowledge that he has set his own bar very high” – Tonto Williams Electronic Scrapbook
“Writes as beautifully about Shetland as he does about seabirds” – Sally Huband, raingeeseandselkies.blogspot.com
(4.5) In 2016 Rutt left his anxiety-inducing life in London in a search for space and silence. He found plenty of both on the Orkney Islands, where he volunteered at the North Ronaldsay bird observatory for seven months. In the few years that followed, the young naturalist travelled the length and breadth of the British Isles – from Skomer to Shetland – courting encounters with seabirds. He’s surrounded by storm petrels one magical night at Mousa Broch; he runs from menacing skuas; he watches eider and terns and kittiwakes along the northeast coast; he returns to Orkney to marvel at gannets and fulmars. Whether it’s their beauty, majesty, resilience, or associations with freedom, such species are for him a particularly life-enhancing segment of nature to spend time around.
Discussion of the environmental threats that hit seabirds hardest, such as plastic pollution, make for a timely tie-in to wider conservation issues. Rutt also sees himself as part of a long line of bird-loving travellers, including James Fisher and especially R.M. Lockley, whose stories he weaves in.
This is one of the best nature/travel books I’ve read in a long time, especially enjoyable because I’ve been to a lot of the island locations and the elegantly evocative writing, making particularly effective use of varied sentence lengths, brought back to me just what it’s like to be in the far north of Scotland in the midst of an endless summer twilight, a humbled observer as a whole whirlwind of bird life carries on above you.
While it might seem unfair to compare this to Adam Nicolson’s Wainwright Prize-winning The Seabird’s Cry, I would actually say that The Seafarers (named after a seventh-century Anglo-Saxon poem about a gannet) is more suited to the general reader, its anecdotal approach a perfect way to draw in those who already love birds, and those who would like to know them better. It was a worthy winner of the Society of Authors’ Roger Deakin Award. Had I finished reading this just a few days sooner I would have included it in my list of the best books from the first half of 2019; look out for it in my year-end best-of list instead.
A favorite passage:
“Gannets nest on the honeycombs of the cliff, in their thousands. They sit in pairs, pointing to the sky, swaying heads. They stir. The scent of the boat’s herring fills the air. They take off, tessellating in a sky that is suddenly as much bird as light. The great skuas lurk.”
This debut by Stephen Rutt is a wonderful book, his writing is a joy to read so informative and about the birds that tend to get ignored either because they are too far away to find or the cheeky buggers are stealing your chips. His love for these birds really shows and you can't help but fall for them too. We get (I think) grey-backed gulls hanging around our house and I now see them in a new light, they've always seemed noisy and boisterous but now I can see the elegance as they glide in a circle above me.
The book starts with Rutt being overwhelmed by living in London and his need to get away, so he spends 7 months in that glorious place Orkney. This is the place I would most love to visit, it seems to be the place to go to cleanse yourself of the nonsense of civilisation, the healing powers of nature are strong there. The book has a journal feel to it, mixed in with facts about the birds is his experiences and how he recuperates, there are a number of funny anecdotes which gave me a good laugh, the vending machine was funny. There is nice mixture of info in each chapter, facts about the birds, how the birds have influenced people throughout history and the current decline in their numbers. The descriptions of the bird's calls were really good...a faulty blender? I was straight onto google to check that one out.
As with a lot of these nature books a large section is dedicated to how we are killing the birds off with our neglect and plastic waste and this book is no exception. He does try to point out the good things too, like the Kittiwake tower in Newcastle. I've never heard of it but it is a wonderful thing to have done, if only more places would come up with great ideas like that. Go check it out if it's unknown to you. He also bravely defends the notorious chip thieves you get at the seaside, they are hated by so many but how else are you going to see a wild bird up close like that?
I've now read both books by this author and loved them both, so impressed that they were both published in the same year and very deserving the award he's won. I hope he is working on a new book and I can't wait to find out what birds it features.
Nicely written book about a love for birds and also the often wild and remote locations they live and breed in. I completely understood Rutt's longing to escape the big city and find solace and healing in the countryside. However, the chapter on Newcastle (a city I know well as my son lives there) and its kittiwakes was particularly interesting. However, I did become irritated by some of the incorrect and sniping comments that Rutt makes. Take for example "A trip to the Farne Islands costs a lot. Lindisfarne is exclusive". Totally disagree. The prices to visit the Farnes seems more than reasonable to me. Who does he think maintains the facilities he no doubt uses (toilets etc). The National Trust do a good and sensitive job. And Lindisfarne is NOT exclusive in any way - anyone can visit by bus, car or even on foot. There's a large pay and display car park which has standard (and again reasonable) charges. And then you are free to explore the island and its wildlife including birds and seals - we've done this many times. I hope his incorrect comments don't put people off visiting these places.
Last week I was sent a copy of Stephen Rutt’s first book – “The Seafarers – A Journey Among Birds”, by the publishers, Elliott & Thompson.
It was an unexpected surprise and “The Seafarers” is one of those great joys of a book that is part autobiographical of the author, biographical of the birds he writes about and full of information and detail of those birds. Be they the charismatic Puffin or the extinct Great Auk the author writes a treatise on each and every bird he sees on his journey, and their homes and habitats.
Stephen Rutt has written a lyrical and delightful story, it is a book written from the heart and takes the reader to the homes of the birds where the author has been as part of his career and where he has escaped to, away from a more hectic life. He writes delightfully about each of the species he encounters, some that will be very familiar to the reader, but possibly many that won’t be and in each case he writes so that we all become familiar with each one. He makes the facts and details of those species accessible to the reader in such a way that it is easy to loose oneself in the story and picture each bird for it’s own character.
The book is also full of references and sources so that the reader can also look further for those species that capture their imagination or want to know more about – I found myself tapping in urls to look at other details of species. I know that I’ll be returning to this great book to reread the sections on those species that are close to my heart, but also as a point of wider reference to other species.
I look forward to reading the next book from this author, although I acknowledge that he has set his own bar very high.
Unless the publisher had flagged this book, I perhaps would never have picked it up. Despite knowing little to nothing about birds, I still found this is a thoughtful and gentle rumination on birds and the wider world in which we co-exist.
There is quite a sense the author is on a mission that doubles as a balm for his soul, an escape from his London work life. He first travels to Shetland in search of the skuas and storm petrels. His writing is reflective, looking back on the Braer oil disaster of 1993 and the effect that had on bird- and wildlife. The delight of this book is that you pick up facts and historical insights that you never knew you would ever need to know. It’s a charming way to learn. Apparently 40% of the world’s skua populations breeds on Shetland.
From Shetland it is then off to the various Farne Island where he is in search of puffins and guillemots (who, by the way, lay pear-shaped eggs – ornithologist Tim Birkhead discovered that their shape enables them to adhere to rocky surfaces and that the egg is also a good shape for minimising bacterial infection. Who knew!). He also sought out the terns who fly a round trip every year of 20,000 miles.
Then it’s off to Newcastle and environs to admire the kittiwakes who live relatively harmoniously around the Tyne Bridge and the Sage Concert Hall. From there he once again sets off on his travels
He cannot, of course explore the world of seabirds without remarking on the effects of plastic pollution. Blue Planet II has certainly raised awareness of the terrible issues but that is really only the start. We have, he believes, been on a downward spiral since the 1950s when plastic came into its own. It’s a sobering (again!) observation and I do wonder how much it will take for humans to really act. The effects of plastic on the Laysan Albatross for example, are devastating, 100% plastic pollution in the colonies, leaving young chicks poisoned and malformed.
This memoir of being a birder is a charming introduction to a passion that is palpable. You can feel the saltwater spray, and as a reader I felt carried along by the author’s enthusiasm and by his genuine sharing of self and his drives. I would have found it really helpful to have pictures of the birds alongside the text, so that I could marry an image with the descriptions – on my next outing to one of the areas, I too would like to feel more informed. Definitely one for people who want to learn more about birds in a non-didactic way.
I don't think I can make a useful judgement on this book, as I read it in order to read something rather than with my mind on birds. The fraught combination of my final week in an incredibly stressful job and the spread of a new strain of turbo-covid in Britain hasn't left much space in my mind. I hoped for some escapism to remote islands, but somehow couldn't seem to get sufficiently engrossed for that. Each chapter concerns a different type of seabird and I think I need a more continuous narrative right to get involved in right now. (I'm having more success with Donna Tartt's The Little Friend.) Shamefully, I can't remember any of Rutt's bird facts to speak of. The nautical aviary all blurred together, although his descriptions of seabirds demonstrate enthusiasm and thoughtfulness. If you enjoy nature writing and are in a calmer state of mind than I, you may well get more from this book than I did. Rutt's writing doesn't have the suppleness of Helen Macdonald or Kathleen Jamie's essays, which make interesting and unexpected connections. 'The Seafarers' is highly focused on its subject matter and, it seems, I was in no mood for seabirds.
The insane craziness of London gets to people in many different ways and in 2015 it happened to Stephen Rutt. Rather than just downsize and move out to the country, he decided to take himself as far away from London as he could. This was why he found himself in North Ronaldsay, the most northerly of the Orkney Islands, at the bird observatory there. It is in these places where the open ocean meets the land where the birds that he is seeking, live. They thrive in these dynamic environments and Rutt’s experiences on these windblown edges of our coasts are the closest he can come to experiencing what an ocean-going bird feels. Most of our seabird colonies are located in Scotland and he is naturally drawn to these places, but he travels all over the UK, from Wales to Northumberland to experience other colonies of birds and to uncover a little of the history between us and the seabirds.
Rutt has a really nice writing style, informative without feeling that you are being lectured too. He describes enough detail in the scenes that he sees in his prose that you feel like you are stood alongside him as he watches the skuas stoop towards his head, or standing in the dark listening to the shearwaters return to their nests, when he takes off in tiny rickety places to hop between the islands and is buffeted by the same winds that they fly in every day in the open ocean. Woven into all of this are his observations on the landscape and geology of the places with just enough history to add context. It is a great insight into the life of the birds he is following and has a wonderful resonance. I can recommend this if you wish to know about the birds of the open ocean, skua, gannets and fulmars and also to be read in conjunction with the Seabird’s Cry by Adam Nicolson, to get some idea of the threats that these birds are under.
I started reading this book over 5 years ago and decided to pick it back up again this week. I shouldn't have stopped reading it in 2020. It's such a brilliant book with so much information about sea birds but also about the author's amazing travels to remote areas of the UK. Was great to have Wales included in it, and a brilliant section on Gannets, which I've had an interest in since seeing them unexpectedly in 2019. Think that my Gran will love this too ❤️
One of my secret thought life fantasies is that I move to Shetland, Northumberland, or Cornwall and walk on beaches and look at birds. For this reason, I watch all the British TV that I can find about that part of the world. In some ways, I suspect, this is a bit unhealthy, but then again, this daydream does produce some good fruit in that I find little gems such as this delightful read by Stephen Rutt.
Rutt begins this work describing the anxiety he feels living in bustling, land-locked, where-can-I-find-some-peace-and-nature-in-this-concrete-jungle London. He’s living the life, but he isn’t living. This book describes his journey, both physical, mental, and I would assert even spiritual, to finding his joy and peace.
I am going to be very bold and say that Stephen Rutt’s debut here marks him in the fine nature tradition of the best British writers. This book is every bit as good as Helen Macdonald’s “H is for Hawk.” While Macdonald may have the educational pedigree to write with ease and knowledge, Rutt makes up for it with sincerity, zeal, and aplomb. (Rutt himself says he is not an expert, but I believe he is.)
The book is organized by different seabirds such as the Manx shearwater, skuas, terns, and fulmars. I learned so much. As an American, this is a little bit of a difficult read. I am not familiar with some of the geographic names, places, and terms used. I don’t have the natural affinity for some of the birds, but this was not a deterrent in the least. Rutt describes as a poet does, as someone who loves birds and the places they live. Sprinkling in history of birding and of location, the reader is completely drawn in.
If you love bird books, if you love nature writing, if you love all things British, you will like this book.
As an aside, I hope that if there is ever an edition published in the US, they add some maps and perhaps a glossary for those who might need it. I did not, but I can see where someone unfamiliar with the British isles might need it.
I am proud of Stephen Rutt for writing such a lovely debut. The book jacket notes he is the recipient of the Roger Deakin Award for this book. I hope he receives many more accolades and writing opportunities, for it’s clear that his voice and talents are undeniable gifts.
I saw a nice looking book on a table in a book shop next to the queue, glanced at the back (nonfiction, memoir, sea birds), glanced at a couple of pages and made an impulse buy. Sometimes they pay off, and this one did.
tldr: I liked it.
Now, as I said in a recent review, with memoirs and (auto)biographies you probably need the subject to be likeable or had an interesting life. That was the failing in that particular book. In this case, a book which consists of a series of essays about birdwatching around the British coast then really only the likeable option is available. Thankfully it's a very likeable book.
I'm not a birdwatcher (apparently the correct term is now 'birder'). I like them, I will look at them in the garden and feel mildly excited when I see hawks, owls (less common), or woodpeckers (once). What this book is about are seabirds, and the watching of them. Seabirds is wider than the gulls we all see, and includes the easily seen and the rare. It's surprisingly interesting. There is, as you can imagine, discussion of declining numbers and the reasons therein. I particularly enjoyed the chapters on kittiwakes in Newcastle.
I'd have liked a glossary section, with photos so I could see the what some birds looked like. That seems like an obvious miss, perhaps because this book wasn't expected to cross over.
But it's a good book. Not original by any means, H is for Hawk being an obvious and probably superior touchpoint. Enjoyable but not essential, and nothing wrong with that.
I don’t read many non-fiction books, but the attractive cover art of The Seafarers drew me in. In order to escape the frantic pace of life in London, Stephen Rutt heads off to North Ronaldsay in the Orkney Islands to study the seabirds, and find some welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the city. The Seafarers is a wonderfully evocative celebration of the seabirds that visit our shores, and the beauty of the remote islands and coastline where they can be observed. Some of these places (and birds) are familiar to me, others not, but the atmospheric prose brings it all vividly to life, and I felt as if I was there. The birds are described in fascinating detail, with lots of anecdotes from those who have studied them both recently and in the past. This unique book is a mixture of memoir, travel, science and natural history and, while not strictly necessary, some illustrations would have made it even better. I have not read anything by Stephen Rutt before, but I will definitely look and see what else he has written. Thanks to Elliott & Thompson and NetGalley for a digital copy to review.
I think the writer probably had it in him to create something more appealing for me, something that would put me on the islands he goes to and generate some interest in joining him among the birds. But this didn't do that for me. I never really got the feeling of being there, whether at night under red-light torches or in howling gales under almost as dark skies, and I never really caught a full mental picture of the birdlife. In the end I was left with the feeling this might well catch the fancy of a layman audience, but would more likely succeed with someone who knew all this stuff anyway - a bit of light bedtime reading for the expert, then. I wish it well but it might not work for everyone.
An interesting book giving plenty of information on the authors visits to coastal areas and islands around the UK. I had not realised just how many different seabirds there are and as the book introduced me to each new one I found myself looking it up in order that I can attempt to recognise it in the future.
I love both London & Orkney & feel that the former got an unfair treatment in this book, there’s plenty of London wildlife & birding opportunities. The bird & location topic for each chapter isn’t necessarily a clue as to what & where will actually be covered, it’s nice that the authors discusses so much, but there’s a chaotic feel to the organisation of the book at times. The descriptions of the birds are brief & I did a lot of Googling throughout, talk about climate change’s impacts on sea birds is brief & relies heavily on Silent Spring. The author is very present throughout & I feel this book is more memoir than advertised.
I am quite impressed that this is Stephen Rutt's first book ! The book is very well balanced between facts, personnal anectodes and musings about our relationships as humans (for good and bad) with seabirds.
It was a pleasure to read. Rutt's enthusiasm really shines through his writing. Starting from a bleak, noisy, over-crowded London life, the book takes us to several british islands. This book is as much a love letter to seabirds as it is a love letter to islands and remote, wild places.
But, as with anything to do with Nature, the shadows of climate change, plastic pollution and over-fishing are looming. And seabirds have the curse to be vulnerable to all of them at once. The book does not have a specific chapter to talk about this but the issues are woven into each chapter, as the actual problems are woven into the seabirds lives (and deaths). But hope still persists, and the passion and energy that volunteers display is heartwarming. And let's hope that seabirds will continue to live alongside us, and give a sense of belonging to many people, like they did to Rutt.
This is a bit of a niche book, but if you are interested in it, then go for it!
Stephen Rutt is not yet thirty and yet he has led a very lucky life (by my standards of luck!), in that he has had a volunteering job on a remote Scottish Island (North Ronaldsey, of the Orkneys), has travelled about the UK to see the birds that feature in this book, and he has written a bloody marvellous book. Oh, and now he lives in Scotland. I came to know of this book from listening to a zoom web thing this year that was to replace a book festival event of Wigtown. I have to admit when I bought the book I thought it was going to be more about the experiences of living on the Orkneys, and although they do feature, so do a lot of other places. But the real focus is the seabirds, and each chapter focuses on one particular bird, from shearwaters, to kittiwakes, fulmars, gulls, petrols, eiders etc and of course the one we're all waiting for - the puffin! Actually my favourite is the eider. They're such lovely ducks - can't beat a duck - like gentlemen of the sea. I'm always amazed by how their stomachs must be made of iron when they waddle off to the heaving waves, leading the little black fluffballs that are their chicks. I didn't realise they were as powerful as they are - apparently they can get up to 70mph in flight, which is impressive in itself but especially considering they will be at times flying through, shall we say, inclemant weather? As well as a great ode to nature, it is also a warning and a worry to the future of nature. Climate change and Brexit being some major threats (yes, if you voted to leave what destruction you will have brought down upon our natural habitats in the future) but a particular focus here is the plastic - as it is so notable in the seas, and therefore hitting the seabirds first. It's heartbreaking to think about, but we must, if we are to make any attempt to try and rectify the shameful mistake we have made. And, as he depressingly points on during a trip to the Farne Islands, the puffin is under threat, and sadly in the future there may only be the plastic tatt puffins they sell in the shops - plastic being one of the elements that brought about the birds' downfall. On a side note, having read this book I have noticed that my reading wishlist has also mushroomed. So many interesting-sounding books referenced.
I have a huge love for birds in general and especially sea and coastal birds. Sadly due to my chronic illness, I am unable to visit the beautiful areas where these remarkable birds live and breed. Because of this, I often turn to wildlife and nature writers to wisk me away and take me to the places that my body cannot. Stephen Rutt did a fantastic job with this book at doing just that. His writing really moved me and I often felt that I was there feeling the wind in the hair and watching these remarkable birds. This book is more autobiographical than about ornithology. He speaks more about his journey and the feats of past naturalists and nature writers that he loves rather than the intricate details of the birds themselves. This is why my review is a 4 star and not a 5, but I still thoroughly enjoyed reading about his escape from London and loving the Scottish isles. That being said, there was still enough detail about the birds for me to learn a few things! The writing was also beautiful, so atmospheric and transformative.
I obviously enjoyed this book! I am so interested in birds such as fulmars, shearwaters and guillemots so for me, it was a great read. I hope other bird lovers pick up this book and enjoy the journey it takes you on.
Please note that I was gifted this book in exchange for an honest review.
This book has been beautifully and thoughtfully crafted. The writing style is fresh and interesting to follow, drawing you along the thread with care and artistry. I loved it all.
This is more than a book of observations and travels, although it does describe many of those ... the Writer also delves in wonder and sometimes in shock behind the scenes. The lives of the precious seabirds are thoroughly explored, passing on so many previously unrealised insights to the reader in the process.
Furthermore, the work is thoroughly cross-referenced out to further Web articles and Press 'clippings'; and includes a comprehensive bibliography provided yet more to explore.
Seafarers provides a real journey in both revelation and at times adding a lot of additional colour for readers. The love of the environment around the islands in the narrative; of the birds being so carefully observed; and the Writer's pain at the blights envisaged as a result of plastics and other pollutions that mankind spills into the environments of those birds ~ those all shine through. I will say again ~ I loved it.
Spoopathon Prompt: New Genre (pretty sure nature-book-cum-memoir is a new one for me) One of the books I got in my giant box of books from the Wigtown Book Festival last summer.
This was 50% reading and 50% Googling the birds and other species mentioned (as well as all the books and documentaries he recommends along the way), which ticked all my nerdy boxes obviously. Found myself daydreaming more than once about spending a few days on a remote island...one day.
Only 3 stars rather than 4 because I felt his writing got weaker when he wandered off on non-birding-related tangents, but definitely interested in reading his other works.
This book provides a look at the birds, people and islands of Britain. This book mixes human history with natural history alongside a travelogue to provide an insight into some of the islands around the country. As with Stephen Rutt's previous books this book makes you feel as though you are there with him, the breeze in your hair, the cry of the birds around you, the land underfoot and that inner sense of awe and wonder in nature.
A truly wonderful book allowing you to escape around our coast without setting a foot outside.
After the first page I thought "I'm really going to like this book"; after page five, I thought "I should know more about birds", and after ten pages I wanted to give everything up and move to the coast to observe skuas and gulls. It is exquisitely written, poetic and lyrical, and the author's love of nature shines through the pages. I loved every page. If, like you, you know nothing about birds, I would advise reading it with a search engine open to check out the birds he is writing about.
Part autobiography part non-fiction this book intertwines facts and stories about seabirds with the authors explanations of how they became and continued to be part of his life. I have an okay knowledge of seabirds but not all the species mentioned in the book were familiar to me and neither were many of the locations. I found myself constantly having to put the book down to Google maps and photos of birds. The author does offer some beautiful descriptions but I felt the book was just crying out for pictures and some maps. Not having those was a big detractor for me.
Taps into a lot of my memories/nostalgia from a bird trip to a Cape St. Mary's, Newfoundland to see the gannets and other nesting birds there. Still, there is undeniable appeal to those who love birds, or love northern climes or islands, but I'm not sure there's anything to appeal if you have none of that nostalgia to tap into.
This debut by Stephen Ruth deservedly won the Saltire First Book of the Year 2019 - not sure what I’ve not discovered it before and so glad I did. Stephen’s love for birds and islands shines through every chapter and his prose takes you with him to whichever windswept, inhospitable edge he describes. A total delight.
an interesting read, though not for the reasons i was expecting ... more autobiographical than ornithological, though no less interesting for this ... helped along by an easy and enjoyable writing style
2.5 stars, a disappointment. I assumed I was going to read a book about birds. However, the birds were mentioned only briefly in each chapter. Most of the time was spent on British (old white men) history and the thoughs and feelings of the author.