Time Travelers: Northern Exposure

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I spent a day with a friend on Mainland and shyly asked about the prospect of seeing some of the famous miniature ponies. "Ah, they're everywhere," she said, amused that I would be interested. "We'll pass some along the way." Sure enough, driving out of Lerwick, we saw dozens of ponies dotting the landscape. Through a friend in Edinburgh, I had arranged to stay at the home of Anna and Lowrie Simpson, native Shetlanders. When people on the isles discuss someone's origins, they say, "He's Shetland," conveying the sense that being from the place means one is the place. Shetlanders have their own dialect, a musical tongue that rises and swells with lots of rolled Rs, which they switch off with ease to accommodate incomers. But even when speaking in their most neutral English, they weave in words such as peerie (little), bonny (pretty) and muckle (large). And you had better know the expression Ya kin (you know), because people often tack "Ya kin what I mean?" to the end of sentences.

Fifteen of the 100 islands are inhabited, and each one offers a slightly different aspect of Shetland (and a different accent). To Shetlanders, being from Unst, say, is not at all the same as being from Whalsay. Most people visit Unst to alight upon a variety of Britain's northernmosts: here you can find the post office, brewery and golf course that sit at the country's highest latitude. Yell is otter country and also has miles of peat moorland; if you have any interest in peat cutting, this is the place to check it out. An array of wonderful summer flowers marks Fetlar, the greenest of the isles. Whalsay is a friendly fishing community with a busy harbor.

Because the isles are so remote, change happens at a glacial pace. One day while I was staying with the Simpsons, Lowrie mentioned the long line at the bank. I asked where the bank was, unable to recall having seen it. "Oh, it comes around in a van once a week," he said. The mobile library comes once every three weeks. Most people on the tiny island (pop. 1,000) don't bother with a mailbox. The letter carrier just opens the front door and leaves their mail in a convenient place.

Driving back with Lowrie from his crofts (small farms) after feeding the sheep and collecting the goose eggs, we stopped and looked in on Binnie, Lowrie's elderly distant cousin. I chatted with Binnie while Lowrie stood on a ladder and poked around in the attic, checking on the fish he was salting and drying. Shetlanders have a very cozy way of looking out for others: dropping in on a neighbor, tending someone's land and sharing resources. "At this time of year, when you have to take off sheep, you pass some of them to others who may need them," says Lowrie.

The oil and fishing industries are the main sources of livelihood for Shetlanders. Willie Irvine, 50, comes from a long line of fishermen. The father of five is part-owner of Athena, a 72-ft. seine-netter, the only one of its kind in Whalsay. Willie lovingly says of his boat, "We've been together 28 years." Willie and the four-man crew catch cod, haddock and whiting. In good weather he's at sea five days a week and can catch up to 16,800 lbs.