Right now I am watching the twinkling lights glinting like a necklace around the edges of Scapa flow.

Flash flash in red then ten second count and repeat I smile knowing I am safe from the dangers of Copinsay pity help any ship that ignores those red flashes. The slow stately red flash of Hoy High reminds me of other days when that light would entice me from bed to watch its white flash. Eyes swinging a little farther right brings me to the blinking red eye of Hoy Low just visible over the low rise at the far edge of town.

Dropping my eyes a little without realising it I check for the blink of the channel boys guiding the ship into the deeper water of the Cairston Roads. Not of course to be confused with orange lights on Cairston road. Our ancestors weren't very good at choosing names of either their families as son was named for father or their places (just don't ask an Orcadian how to get to Kirbuster you could end up on the grand tour of the island).