Clockwatching

I’ve had jobs in the past where I’ve caught myself clockwatching. That slow burn between 3.30 and 5, or the soporific glow of a big lunch that makes the second hand move too lazily. Jobs that have not had a sense of purpose or business.

Even though bad weather and a broken boat engine meant my job on Skomer Island had started on the mainland, I quickly realised that the further I dug the bigger the hole became. There was so much to do, to plan, to organise, to imagine. My first week involved many texts, garbled messages and rushed emails that had me scurrying around shops buying provisions and replacement items for the island. I started to plan work on the website, edit some leaflets, think about events and publicity. My notebook was near full after just a few days. In between all this I found time for some surfing, caught up with old friends and reacquainted myself with the glowering cliffs and crags of Pembrokeshire’s coast.

I finally got onto Skomer by hitching a ride with a volunteer work party on their way to neighbouring Skokholm Island. After an admittedly anxious ten days it was a relief to step foot on the landing at North Haven. My welcoming party included the Wardens Ed and Bee, Assistant Warden Jason, and five or six seals who fixed us with their mocking gaze as we hauled my baggage up 87 steps.

Since I landed I’ve been clockwatching. I admit it. But this time it’s different. I keep looking at my watch and wondering where the time has gone. Why isn’t there an extra hour in the day? Ed, Bee and Jason arrived about three weeks ago and have been working flat out on repairs and cleaning. The hostel, volunteer and research accommodation has needed a lot of work. I’ve been flat out since I got here and now have nothing but admiration for the efforts of these three. Meanwhile they’ve somehow found time to already figure out where Choughs are planning to nest, spotted a rare Cackling Goose, spotted some early Puffins, Raven chicks, a Great Northern Diver, and still managed to find the time to show me the ropes and make me feel very welcome.

We’ve got a few days left before our first guests of the season and before the island is open to the public. The list of things that need to be done keeps growing and no job seems as simple as you might think. We can’t just go down to the hardware store and buy more drillbits. We can’t order replacement parts online and wait for them to be delivered. We can’t start a job and leave it someone else to finish.

But there’s plenty we can do. We can make do and mend. We can saviour the anticipation of a new Skomer season approaching. We should clockwatch as much as possible, make a note of the time, look around at the landscape, seascape, the birds, the island. Because if we don’t we’ll find ourselves getting on the boat off the island in November wondering where the time went.