I am obsessed with and by sea-weeding. I hanker after a hobby enjoyed by the Victorians, who were avid seaweed ramblers. In summer, I wear as little as possible and in winter a warm wetsuit. Sensible dress is important. To quote Mrs Alfred Gatty in her book of British Seaweeds (1863).
Next to boots comes the question of petticoats; and if anything could excuse a woman for imitating the costume of a man, it would be what she suffers as a seaweed collector from those necessary draperies! ….and let the petticoats never come become the ankle.
I am a forager and keen cook. Hedgerows and woodland is sparse on the Outer Hebrides and so I turned to seaweed. My seaweed obsession broke with the Hebridean tradition of cooking with carrageen; my first culinary experiment looked at storm-cast dulse. Do not do this at home. Choose freshly cut seaweed, not seaweed washed up by the tide. I was (and still am) an amateur seaweed cook but I was struck by the red seaweed, dulse as it glistened in the winter sun. The ferry company Caledonian MacBrayne provides a lifeline service to the Western Isles but at times it is unreliable, and so, in the absence of terrestrial vegetables in the supermarket, I turned to food from the ocean. My dulse turned green when cooked and was quite delicious. Dulse unlike kelp, cooks in a similar time to potatoes. Researching my book, Seaweed in the Kitchen, I stumbled upon a group of Victorian ladies who collected seaweed. Amongst them was the author, George Eliot . Eliot wrote that she was ‘Quite in love with seaweeds’. In the same era, Wedgwood created a seaweed dinner set. In my book, I name these ladies The Seaweed Sisterhood. Said ladies also posted the occasional rarity to male scientists who then classified them.
Here we are at the seaside for our summer holiday – the hot and dusty city a past thing like a weary dream of the night…who that has a home full of young lives does not rejoice to see the rush out upon the sunny sands and the preparation for sea-weeding.
Fast forward five years and I was asked to write a book encouraging children to explore the out of doors. I encourage creativity: a beach litter clean–up - an octopus made from a plastic bottle with dried dusle for hair. A charming, chiming mobile made from shells and dried seaweed and, in the footsteps of Victorian children, pressed and mounted seaweeds. We are told that Queen Victoria owned a seaweed album. Alas, this pastime is no longer fashionable. It should be. We need to be in touch with our natural world.Go sea- weeding and breathe.
In the words of Mrs Gatty I leave you to go forth sea-weeding, singing
Come with me and we will go
Where the rocks of coral grow.
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