Historians often tell the history of the Scottish islands through the lens of departure. From the high profile clearance of St Kilda in 1930 to the smaller migrations that shaped the Inner Hebrides, the narrative of the twentieth century was one of centralisation and the slow fading of remote communities. One of the most poignant yet overlooked chapters in this saga is the evacuation of the Isle of Soay in June 1953. Located just off the southern coast of Skye, this small island witnessed a unique social experiment. Although it promised prosperity, the experiment ultimately ended with twenty-seven residents boarding a steamer for a new life on the Isle of Mull.
Soay is a place of rugged beauty, sitting in the shadow of the Cuillin mountains. Its name is derived from the Old Norse word for Sheep Island, a testament to its long history of Norse and Gaelic settlement. By the middle of the nineteenth century, the population had peaked at over one hundred and fifty people. These islanders lived as crofters and fishers, extracting a living from the peat soil and the surrounding waters of the Atlantic. Consequently, by the end of the Second World War, the population faced a steady decline. The isolation that once protected the community now became a burden as young people sought opportunities on the mainland and the traditional ways of life began to falter under the weight of modern economic pressures.
The Basking Shark Industry
The fate of Soay in the post war years was inextricably linked to an ambitious and somewhat eccentric commercial venture. In 1944, the author and naturalist Gavin Maxwell purchased the island with the intention of establishing a commercial basking shark fishery. Maxwell, who would later gain worldwide fame for his book Ring of Bright Water, saw the sharks as an untapped resource. The livers of these massive fish are rich in oil, which was in high demand for industrial purposes at the time.
Maxwell established a factory on the island, complete with a processing plant and living quarters for his crew. A cast of colorful characters joined him, most notably Joseph “Tex” Geddes, a former special forces instructor and adventurer. Together they pursued the sharks across the Minch using a modified whaling harpoon gun mounted on the bow of their boat, The Traveller. For a brief period, it seemed as though Soay might become a thriving industrial hub. The island was buzzing with activity, and the local men found employment in the factory or as part of the fishing crews.
Fifty years ago Gavin Maxwell went to live in an abandoned house on a shingle beach on the west coast of Scotland. A haven for wildlife - he named his home Camusfearna and settled there with the otters Mij, Edal and Teko.
Ring of Bright Water chronicles Gavin Maxwell's first ten years with the otters and touched the hearts of readers the world over, brilliantly evoking life with these playful animals in this natural paradise. Two further volumes followed bringing the story full circle telling of the difficult last years and the final abandonment of the settlement.
However, several difficulties plagued the venture. Since the basking shark is a migratory creature, its appearances remained unpredictable. At the same time, the harsh weather of the Hebrides frequently trapped the boats in the harbor during peak fishing seasons. The expensive and technically demanding process of extracting and refining the oil also drained resources. As a result, the business collapsed by 1948. Maxwell left the island in significant debt, leaving behind a decaying factory and a community that had come to rely on his industrial income. In the end, the failure of the shark oil business dealt the final blow to Soay’s economic viability.
The Decision to Leave
Following the departure of Maxwell, the residents of Soay faced a grim reality. The population had dwindled to just twenty seven people, many of whom were elderly. The lack of basic services was becoming critical. There was no mains electricity, no reliable medical service, and the small school was on the verge of closure. The beautiful but increasingly uninhabitable landscape essentially trapped the islanders. In 1952, the community took the difficult step of petitioning the government for a formal evacuation. They argued that the island could no longer provide a sustainable living for its people and that they required assistance to resettle in a location with better access to jobs and services.
The Scottish Office responded to this petition by proposing a move to the Isle of Mull. Specifically, the government offered the islanders homes and employment in the Craignure area. Unlike the rugged isolation of Soay, Mull offered a more developed infrastructure and the promise of steady work in the growing forestry industry. The decision was not unanimous, but the majority of the crofters felt that they had no other choice if they wanted a future for their families.
The Day of the Evacuation
On June 20, 1953, the evacuation finally took place. It was a day of intense emotion; photographers and journalists traveled from across Britain to capture the event. The SS Hebrides arrived in the small harbor of Soay to collect the islanders and their worldly possessions. The crew loaded furniture, livestock, and crates of personal items onto the steamer. A lone piper stood on the shore, playing a lament that echoed off the hills of Skye. For many of the older residents, leaving Soay was a tragedy. They were abandoning the land where they had buried their ancestors and a way of life deeply rooted in the Gaelic tradition.
Despite the sadness, there was also a sense of relief. The residents were moving to houses in Craignure that had modern amenities they had never enjoyed on Soay. The government had provided land and guaranteed jobs in the forestry plantations of Mull. The government intended the transition to be as seamless as possible, turning the former fishers and crofters into foresters and laborers in a more stable economy.
The Ones Who Stayed Behind
While most of the population moved to Mull, the island was not entirely abandoned. Tex Geddes and his wife Jeanne chose to remain. Having fallen in love with the island during the shark hunting years, they purchased the old Mission Hall and decided to make a go of it on their own. Tex continued to hunt sharks on a smaller scale, selling the livers to processors in Glasgow, and he eventually became known as the self styled Laird of Soay. His presence ensured that the island retained a permanent human inhabitant, even as the old cottages fell into ruin.
The life of the Geddes family was one of extreme self sufficiency. They battled the elements and fought to maintain basic services. At one point, when the government threatened to cut off the postal service to the island, Tex encouraged friends and family to send him a constant stream of registered letters. The tactic worked, and the mail boat continued to visit once a month, keeping the small household connected to the outside world. Tex Geddes remained on Soay until his death in 1998, a legendary figure in the Hebrides who embodied the spirit of island independence.
Integration and Legacy on Mull
The move to Mull was a success in practical terms. The families from Soay integrated well into the community at Craignure. They found the work in the forests to be stable, and their children benefited from the better educational opportunities available on the larger island. However, the cultural cost was high. The specific dialect and social bonds of the Soay community began to dissolve as they merged with the wider population of Mull. The evacuation marked the end of Soay as a self sustaining, traditional crofting community.
Today, Soay remains a quiet and remote place. The ruins of Gavin Maxwell’s shark factory still stand as a rusted monument to a failed dream. The population has seen small fluctuations over the years, with a few adventurous individuals moving to the island to seek a life away from the modern world. One such resident, Anne Cholawo, wrote a detailed account of her life there in the book Island on the Edge, describing the challenges of living without mains power or regular transport in the twenty first century.
Anne Cholawo was a typical 80s career girl working in a busy London advertising agency, when in 1989, holidaying in Skye, she noticed an advert for a property on the Isle of Soay - 'Access by courtesy of fishing boat'. She had never heard of Soay before, let alone visited it, but something inexplicable drew her there. Within ten minutes of stepping off the said fishing boat, she had fallen under the spell of the island, and after a few months she moved there to live. She is still there. When she arrived on the remote west coast island there were only 17 inhabitants, among them the legendary Hebridean sharker Tex Geddes and his family. Today, including Anne and her husband Robert, there are only three.
Historical Comparisons
The evacuation of Soay is often compared to the move from St Kilda in 1930. Both events were driven by the collapse of isolation as a viable way of life and the desire for better medical and educational standards. Similar evacuations occurred on the Blasket Islands in Ireland during the same period. These movements represent a broader shift in the North Atlantic fringe, where the ancient pattern of small, dispersed island communities was replaced by a more centralised model of living. While the people of Soay found a better quality of life on Mull, their departure left a void in the Hebridean landscape that has never been fully filled. The story of Soay is a reminder of the delicate balance between tradition and progress, and the enduring pull of the islands that continues to fascinate the human spirit.
