Latest / The Story of Scotland: Clans, Crowns, and the Fight for Identity — Fexingo History / The Old Man of Hoy: Scotland's Impossible Sea Stack
Transcript
- Lucas: Luna, I was thinking about the things we've covered on this show—battles, kings, clearances, witch hunts. But there's a kind of Scottish history that isn't about people at all. It's written in the land itself. And today I want to tell you about the Old Man of Hoy. Luna: The Old Man of Hoy? Is that a person? Lucas: No, not a person. It's a sea stack—a towering pillar of rock standing alone in the sea, just off the island of Hoy in Orkney. It's 137 metres tall, which is about the height of a 40-storey building. And it's been there for maybe four centuries, though the locals will tell you it's older than time itself. Luna: Four centuries? That doesn't sound that old for a rock. Lucas: Well, for a sea stack, that's pretty ancient. These things are constantly being battered by waves and wind. The Old Man is made of red sandstone, and it's slowly crumbling. In fact, the climbers who've scaled it say the rock is so soft you can pick chunks off with your fingers. It's a miracle it's still standing. Lucas: And what's fascinating is that it wasn't always a stack. A few hundred years ago, it was probably connected to the mainland of Hoy by a narrow arch. But the sea kept eating away at the base, and eventually the arch collapsed, leaving this lone pillar. So in geological terms, it's a baby. Luna: So it's a monument to erosion. I love that. Lucas: Exactly. And it's not just any erosion. The Old Man sits on the west coast of Hoy, facing the Atlantic. The cliffs here are among the tallest in Britain—St John's Head, just to the south, is over 330 metres high. So this whole coastline is a dramatic meeting of rock and sea. Lucas: But the Old Man has also become a symbol of something else: human daring. In 1966, a team of climbers made the first ascent of the stack. It was led by Chris Bonington, who was already a legend, and the climb was broadcast live on the BBC. It was a massive cultural moment. Luna: Wait, they climbed that thing? In the sixties? How? Lucas: With ropes, pitons, and a lot of nerve. The climb took them three days. They had to haul all their gear up the cliff, bivouac on ledges, and deal with the soft, crumbly sandstone. It was considered one of the hardest climbs in the world at the time. And they did it live on television. Lucas: But the story doesn't end there. Since then, the Old Man has been climbed many times, and it's become a rite of passage for British climbers. There's even a famous photo of a climber standing on top, waving, with the Orkney islands spread out behind him. It's a testament to what people will do for a view. Luna: It's strange to think of a rock like that bringing people together. Lucas: It is, but that's part of its power. The Old Man is a landmark, something you can see from the ferry approaching Stromness. For centuries, sailors used it as a navigation point. And before that, the Norse settlers who came to Orkney would have known it. There's even a saga that mentions a giant who lived on Hoy. Luna: A giant? Now you're talking. Lucas: According to the Orkneyinga Saga, there was a giant named Vagn who lived on Hoy. He used to throw rocks at the mainland, and one of those rocks landed in the sea and became the Old Man. Of course, that's just a story, but it shows how the stack captured people's imaginations. Lucas: The name itself has nothing to do with age. 'Hoy' comes from the Old Norse 'há-ey', meaning high island. And 'Old Man' might be a corruption of something else, or just a nod to the figure it resembles. Some say it looks like an old man with a beard, if you squint. Luna: I'll have to take your word for that. Lucas: But here's the thing—the Old Man is not permanent. In 2021, a chunk fell off the top, and geologists say it could collapse within a few hundred years. So in a way, climbing it is like touching something that's already fading. It makes you think about impermanence. Luna: That's a bit sad, but also kind of beautiful. Lucas: It is. And that's why it's such a powerful symbol for Orkney. It's not just a tourist attraction; it's a reminder that the landscape is alive, always changing. The cliffs, the sea, the weather—they're all part of a story that's still being written. Lucas: And thinking about that, about how we're all part of something larger, it reminds me of why we make this show. We want to share the stories of Scotland, whether they're about people or rocks. And we want to do it without ads, which means we rely on listeners who appreciate that. Luna: Yeah, it's like the Old Man—standing strong through the ages, but needing a little support to keep going. Lucas: Exactly. If you've been enjoying these conversations, and you'd like to help us keep them going, you can support the show at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. That's buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Even a small coffee helps. Luna: And it keeps us independent, so we can keep exploring all the nooks and crannies of Scottish history. Lucas: Right. So, back to the Old Man. I was reading about a climb that happened in 2017, when a team of climbers made the first free ascent—meaning they didn't use any aid, just their hands and feet on the rock. It was a huge achievement, and it shows that the stack still challenges the best. Luna: So it's not just a thing of the past. It's still relevant. Lucas: Absolutely. And that's what I love about it. The Old Man of Hoy is a place where history, geology, and human ambition all meet. It's a testament to the power of nature and the spirit of adventure. And it's a reminder that Scotland's story isn't just about battles and kings. Lucas: So next time you see a photo of that lonely stack, remember: it's been watching over Orkney for centuries, and it'll still be there long after we're gone. At least, for a little while longer.