A Hebridean wild goose chase

Tiree is the most westerly island in the Inner-Hebrides. At approximately 20,000 acres and with a population of only 650, it is pretty wild. To get there you can fly direct from Glasgow or Oban or get the ferry from Oban which takes about 4 hours, stopping en route at the neighbouring island of Coll.

Due to its geographical position in relation to the Gulf Stream, Tiree is one of the sunniest places in Great Britain in the summer and its temperatures are higher on average than most places on the mainland. The island is renowned for being windy; it certainly was during my stay. It has large white sandy beaches, aquamarine blue seas and is very flat with only 3 hills on the island.

It's a popular destination for surfers, and the occasional palm tree in the gardens of residents must make them feel at home. Barring these tropical transplants, Tiree has almost no other trees. A great deal of the island resembles one big un-manicured golf course populated by sheep, cattle and geese, with houses and crofts scattered across the island (over 40% of which are holiday homes).

The location of Tiree, coupled with its lack of ground predators (apart from the odd cat and apparently some rats that live on the dump) makes it the ideal place for ground-nesting birds to thrive and with vast amounts of grass and coastline rich with seaweeds, there is plenty for them to eat.

The quarry that our group were interested in were the greylag geese, duck, and snipe (Tiree holds the record for snipe shooting and in his Record Bags and Record Shooting of 1922, Lord Elphinstone and Mr JD Cobbold shot 1,052 snipe in a week’s shooting at the end of October 1906).

The Trip

Our party of 6 people and 8 dogs left Suffolk on Saturday morning and headed up to Scotland, excited for the adventures ahead, arriving at Oban just in time for supper. I talk a lot about the excitement of a planned-out trip, and this was no different as we had been talking cartridges, clothing, weather, and timings for weeks and were now finally on our way.

We had decided to stay the night in Oban rather than travel overnight as our ferry check-in was at 5:30am. Although the hotel resembled Fawlty Towers (our mistake as there are plenty to choose from) Oban seemed nice enough and we managed to find somewhere to settle in for a few pints before getting some shut eye in preparation for our early voyage.

Whilst a lot of the ferry journey there was in darkness, the return journey was not and as you sail through the Sound of Mull it feels like you are travelling through the set of Lord of the Rings. We arrived on the island at midday on the Sunday and met with the keeper; Peter and his two dog-men who were going to be helping us for the week; a Welshman named Louie and a Northern Irishman named Tony; don't worry this is not the start of a bad joke, all 3 turned out to be incredibly kind, helpful and a real pleasure to spend time with.

Base Camp

We followed Peter from the ferry to our home for the week, Island House. Surrounded by a lochan, it is a large, 7-bedroom house, with a drying room (incredibly useful for the Hebridean winter weather), gun room, large kitchen, cosy living room with a coal-fed open fire and a porch which acted as a perfect boot room and sleeping room for the dogs.

We also had our own chef for the week; a delightful lady named Heather who came over from Coll and who blew our socks off with the quality of food she provided us with. We had a fry up every morning (including Stornoway black-pudding: my favourite), sandwiches with home-made soups for lunch which were perfect for warming the cockles, but the real highlights were her dinners. One night we were treated to a snipe starter cooked in parsley and garlic butter and served on fried bread (something everyone in the party has tried since to varying degrees of success) and another evening we enjoyed a wonderful hare stew!

After unloading our vehicles and enjoying a light lunch, Peter announced that we should go after some hares - which are very populous on the island - in the sand dunes to sort out dinner for one of the evenings. As the water around our house was plate-glass flat and the sun was shining, we thought it seemed a great opportunity to see more of the terrain and chat to Peter.

The Shooting

On the journey to the north-west part of the island to find the hares, we started to get an idea of just how many geese were around. In every field there seemed to be a group and I could see why the crofters would find them infuriating as they eat the grass they grow for their livestock and make a real mess doing so.

We split up into three groups of two and went stalking the sand dune for hares with rimfire rifles, accounting for four hares between us. On the way back to the truck, Peter exclaimed 'it's not plains game in Africa, but it is a giggle, and it will make a decent dinner for you later in the week' - that it did, as on the Tuesday evening Heather transformed our harvest into a delicious hare stew. After an evening in front of the fire, slightly too much Scotch, some bad jokes and a good night's sleep things properly kicked off first light on Monday morning.

The pattern for the three remaining days was as follows goose flighting or decoying first thing then back for a good breakfast, followed by a mix of walked up and mini-driven snipe (with the odd goose or duck thrown into the mix). After a warming lunch, we would head back out again for some further mini-driven and walking, before finishing the day with a duck flight.

The duck on Tiree are all completely wild and near enough impossible to feed, as any food that does get put down invariably is hoovered up by the geese, but we saw mallard, wigeon, teal and tufted duck over our three day trip.

The December winds made shooting difficult (especially on the Tuesday when Storm Barra hit and we experienced 50mph+ wind all day with hail and sleet thrown into the mix) and I dread to think what our cartridge ratio was, but it was exhilarating!

One minute we had snipe lifting ahead of you jinking away into the distance with their telltale squeaking calls and the next you would be trying to find some cover and change cartridges as a skein of greylags popped into view over the horizon and headed towards the team. We all had plenty of shooting throughout the week and it was a delight to look down the line and see everyone working their dogs and on high alert for what might happen next.

A shooting paradise

For me, Tiree is a shooting paradise, and the trip has left all of us with everlasting memories and a desire to get back again as soon as possible. The week was a true mix of luxury meets rugged, wild shooting; the house was exceptional, our chef Heather was hugely talented, and Peter, Louie and Tony were a pleasure to spend time with, were enormously knowledgeable and worked their socks off to make sure we had a good time but kept things casual and relaxed. Once we had packed the game into our vehicles for our journey home, we shook hands with Peter and he said 'perhaps we will do it again some time' - I really hope so!

We would all have gladly spent several more days with Peter and his team - and nearly got our wish thanks to the lingering effects of the storm - but is it not always better to end a trip when you're still loving it rather than stretching to breaking point: perhaps?

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