The Skerries
At Carmel Head’s rocky summit a dramatic coastal vista opens up, from Mynydd Twr to Ynys Badrig. Anglesey’s northwest coast is swept by powerful tides pouring in and out of Liverpool Bay, where strong westerly winds create a seascape of breaking waves. On stormy days the view across Carmel Sound is a breathtaking encounter with the ocean’s power.
Offshore a low cluster of rocky islands emerge from the sea, capped by a lonely lighthouse. The Skerries, guarding the north entrance to Holyhead Bay, is an iconic destination for north Wales paddlers. This trip demands planning and commitment to cross the swift tidal streams of Carmel Sound. In light winds and neap tides, however, a journey to these isolated islands is within the grasp of many well-prepared teams.
A Wildlife Haven
What of the Skerries? What awaits the visiting paddler? The Norse name suggests only a cluster of low barren rocks in the sea, originating - like so many ‘skerries’ around the Celtic coast - in the era of Viking exploration. Ynysoedd Moelrhoniaid, in contrast, speaks of the pinnipeds that reside among these ‘islands of seals’. Swimming between islets and hauled out on intertidal rocks, a thriving colony of Atlantic Grey seals greets visitors with concerned curiosity and a noisy welcome. Give these magnificent animals the space they need, paddle quietly and wait for them to approach - which they will.
September to December is their critical pupping / breeding season, and a time to avoid sensitive locations. Seal pups are unable to enter the water for 2-3 weeks until they develop adequate insulation and waterproof fur. A cluster of small beaches at the northeast end of the islands is especially vulnerable to disturbance - avoid this area, and be vigilant around rocky ledges in the Skerries lagoon. If female adults display any signs of anxiety, give them precious space.
The Skerries is also a seasonal home to almost 3000 pairs of Arctic terns, the UK’s largest colony. These small birds arrive in May from sub-Antarctic wintering grounds to breed and rear their chicks, before departing again in July-August. With delicate wings sustaining a buoyant flight as they dive for sand eels, they well deserve the local name ‘sea swallow’. Easily identified by a white body and black cap with red legs and bill, they are a remarkable sight at this SSSI-protected offshore haven. Lucky paddlers will observe swooping flocks of Arctic terns around the islands, and can marvel at the annual 30,000km migration undertaken by these tiny creatures.
During the nesting season, visitors should remain on the tidal beach or stone landing jetty, well away from ground nests that seem to cover the entire main island. Despite their diminutive size, terns will defend their nests aggressively, dive-bombing anyone who gets too close. Respect their territory to help avoid predation by gulls, and earn a welcome from the RSPB wardens.
Watch for the occasional flash of an orange ‘parrot beak’ from Atlantic puffins that burrow nests into the soft Skerries turf. The greater black-backed gull is an impressive sight, and a threat to incubating eggs and chicks. Noisy oystercatchers flutter by, with distinctive black and white wings and long orange bills. Shags also favour this venue, often standing sentry-like on rocky shores, extended wings drying between fishing trips.
In early summer a visit to the Skerries will be an unforgettable encounter with this wonderful wildlife oasis, and a fitting reward for offshore commitment.
The Skerries Lighthouse Fl.(2)15sec36m20M
For centuries the northwest Anglesey coast has been a ships’ graveyard, especially for vessels ‘cutting the corner’ through Carmel Sound. Shallow ridges, drying reefs and rocky islets combine with powerful tidal streams to create a navigator’s nightmare. Few craft venture into the sound nowadays, except for the odd adventurous yacht skipper. Paddlers en route to the Skerries still benefit from a scattered handful of cardinal marks, stone beacons - and a conveniently positioned lighthouse!
From the landing jetty (seasonal bird restrictions permitting) a short walk leads to the Skerries lighthouse, with panoramic views of Holyhead Bay, Carmel Sound and the Anglesey north coast.
By 1658 the commercial benefits of a light on the Skerries were apparent to Henry Mascard, a speculator seeking financial advantage from passing vessels. However, his application to levy dues was opposed by Trinity House. In 1714 local leaseholder William Trench finally secured the right to construct a beacon. The first was lit in 1717; Trench’s story, however, is a tragic one. He lost his son to the sea in Carmel Sound and, having committed to a Crown rent of £5 per year, failed to levy dues from traders and mariners who evaded his collecting agents in port. Apparently, 1 penny per ship / 2 pence per cargo ton was an unappealing deal in those days! In 1729 he died in ruin.
The lease passed to his daughter, who obtained an Act of Parliament granting sole family claim to the Skerries in perpetuity - a decision the UK parliament would come to regret. By 1834 the much-improved oil lamp light was generating enormous profits for her descendant Morgan Jones, as the heyday of the Industrial Revolution brought vast tonnages of shipping to the port of Liverpool. For five years Jones’ solicitors fought Trinity House’s 1836 legislation for compulsory purchase of all UK lighthouses. In 1841 a sale price of £440,000 was finally agreed. This eye-watering sum (almost £60M in today’s money) made the Skerries the last privately-owned, and most expensive lighthouse in Britain - and possibly the world.
In 1927 the lighthouse was converted to electric operation and automated in 1987, when the last lighthouse keeper left the island. Today, a rooftop array of solar panels powers the light’s silent operation. On cold windy days this lonely beacon has an air of human abandonment, a melancholy reminder of an age that relied on resilient ‘wickies’ to safeguard the lives of mariners on the high seas.
The Skerries rarely feel like a place to linger, the sparsely vegetated islets extending only a temporary welcome and little shelter. With a turning tide and a building breeze, thoughts soon turn to departure and a timely return to the mainland. Paddling teams head home across the swirling currents of Carmel Sound, insignificant specks on a restless sea. Safe arrival ashore brings satisfaction and certainty of a future visit. We’ll be back one day!
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