Save our seas

The fishermen come, they take a few decent fish, and they throw the rest away. And at the moment the

This past week a trawler has been fishing around the south end of the island. It has come remarkably close to the shore – sometimes as near as a quarter of a mile. Back and forth it has gone, day and night, scooping up everything it could find. On Friday evening it was joined by three others.

Once onboard, many (perhaps most) of the fish will have been thrown back into the sea dead, because they were undersized. Illogical European laws, intended to protect fish stocks, allow – the fishermen would say encourage – this waste.

Fish stocks around Fair Isle have been steadily depleting over the years. The sea used to provide a living to many of the families on the island, but now it has little to offer. Seabird populations are suffering too, and though the reasons for this decline are complex and not fully understood, hunger is a very real and serious part of the problem.

The fishermen come, they take a few decent fish, and they throw the rest away. And at the moment there is nothing we can do about it.

For more than two decades Fair Isle has been calling for some form of protection for the seas around the island. The marine environment has been, and remains, a crucial part of the island’s sustainability, but it is seriously threatened by over-fishing and also by oil-related shipping in the Fair Isle Channel.
In 1985 the island was awarded a European Diploma by the Council of Europe, and it has since been renewed four times. This award is intended to recognise “protected natural or semi-natural areas of exceptional European interest from the point of view of conservation of biological, geological or landscape diversity that have an appropriate protection status.”

In Fair Isle’s case, the diploma was given “aesthetically because of the beauty of the landscape; culturally because of the existence of a prosperous farming community . . . and scientifically because the island is an important breeding site for seabird populations and a crossroads for certain migratory species”.

Only five areas in the UK have received a European Diploma – the Peak District National Park, Minsmere Nature Reserve, the Beinn Eighe National Nature Reserve, Purbeck Heritage Coast, and Fair Isle. Each of these areas is subject to significant levels of protection for the natural environment. Fair Isle itself is a “National Scenic Area”, and parts of the island are designated as a “Special Protection Area” because of the importance of the bird life.

When renewing the diploma however, the Council of Europe made several recommendations that it felt were essential in order to maintain or improve the situation here. Most important among these were several measures designed to protect the marine environment. Although the UK is meant to take the directives very seriously indeed, so far it has chosen to ignore them.

Much work has been done locally in order to try and push for greater protection of the seas around the island. The Fair Isle Marine Environment and Tourism Initiative has done their best to keep things moving, but it can be frustrating to witness, time and again, the ineptitude of those whose job it is to make the decisions that affect us.

The Scottish Executive has been talking for some time about creating the UK’s first Marine National Park. Fair Isle, of course, would seem a natural contender. But despite Shetland being on the long-list of areas under consideration, and despite the fact that this is probably the only community in Scotland that is entirely united in its desire to be chosen, the signs do not look good.

Fair Isle is crying out for protection. How long before somebody listens?

Photograph by Dave Wheeler

Malachy Tallack is 26 and lives in Fair Isle. He is a singer-songwriter, journalist, and editor of the magazine Shetland Life.
Photo: André Spicer
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“It’s scary to do it again”: the five-year-old fined £150 for running a lemonade stand

Enforcement officers penalised a child selling home-made lemonade in the street. Her father tells the full story. 

It was a lively Saturday afternoon in east London’s Mile End. Groups of people streamed through residential streets on their way to a music festival in the local park; booming bass could be heard from the surrounding houses.

One five-year-old girl who lived in the area had an idea. She had been to her school’s summer fête recently and looked longingly at the stalls. She loved the idea of setting up her own stall, and today was a good day for it.

“She eventually came round to the idea of selling lemonade,” her father André Spicer tells me. So he and his daughter went to their local shop to buy some lemons. They mixed a few jugs of lemonade, the girl made a fetching A4 sign with some lemons drawn on it – 50p for a small cup, £1 for a large – and they carried a table from home to the end of their road. 

“People suddenly started coming up and buying stuff, pretty quickly, and they were very happy,” Spicer recalls. “People looked overjoyed at this cute little girl on the side of the road – community feel and all that sort of stuff.”

But the heart-warming scene was soon interrupted. After about half an hour of what Spicer describes as “brisk” trade – his daughter’s recipe secret was some mint and a little bit of cucumber, for a “bit of a British touch” – four enforcement officers came striding up to the stand.

Three were in uniform, and one was in plain clothes. One uniformed officer turned the camera on his vest on, and began reciting a legal script at the weeping five-year-old.

“You’re trading without a licence, pursuant to x, y, z act and blah dah dah dah, really going through a script,” Spicer tells me, saying they showed no compassion for his daughter. “This is my job, I’m doing it and that’s it, basically.”

The girl burst into tears the moment they arrived.

“Officials have some degree of intimidation. I’m a grown adult, so I wasn’t super intimidated, but I was a bit shocked,” says Spicer. “But my daughter was intimidated. She started crying straight away.”

As they continued to recite their legalese, her father picked her up to try to comfort her – but that didn’t stop the officers giving her stall a £150 fine and handing them a penalty notice. “TRADING WITHOUT LICENCE,” it screamed.


Picture: André Spicer

“She was crying and repeating, ‘I’ve done a bad thing’,” says Spicer. “As we walked home, I had to try and convince her that it wasn’t her, it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her who had done something bad.”

She cried all the way home, and it wasn’t until she watched her favourite film, Brave, that she calmed down. It was then that Spicer suggested next time they would “do it all correctly”, get a permit, and set up another stand.

“No, I don’t want to, it’s a bit scary to do it again,” she replied. Her father hopes that “she’ll be able to get over it”, and that her enterprising spirit will return.

The Council has since apologised and cancelled the fine, and called on its officials to “show common sense and to use their powers sensibly”.

But Spicer felt “there’s a bigger principle here”, and wrote a piece for the Telegraph arguing that children in modern Britain are too restricted.

He would “absolutely” encourage his daughter to set up another stall, and “I’d encourage other people to go and do it as well. It’s a great way to spend a bit of time with the kids in the holidays, and they might learn something.”

A fitting reminder of the great life lesson: when life gives you a fixed penalty notice, make lemonade.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.