Campfire Voices: the Anti-Pollution Pirates

Words: Daniel Neilson
Photography: Jake Baggale
Film: Summit Fever Media
Produced in Partnership with VOITED

On the north-west coast of Scotland, a ragtag crew of filmmakers, photographers, and storytellers gathered in a storm-lashed bothy to hunt for treasure of a different kind. Led by Summit Fever Media in partnership with VOITED, they came to leave these remote shores better than they found them.

The pirates are coming! From the sea and over mountain passes. They stay in secret huts and scour beaches at night. They are in search of treasure, of course. But these pirates are in search of a different kind, for one man’s rubbish may be another’s treasure.

A 19th-century use of the idiom above was recorded in Popular Tales of the West Highlands by Hector Urquhart in relation to his pursuit of collecting stories – or ‘blethers’, as his friend dismissively called them – in the Highlands of Scotland, and that’s where this story begins.

Around the bothy fire sat a band of friends perhaps best described, fondly, as ragtag. There were Ellie and Matt Green from Summit Fever Media, leading the film in partnership with VOITED. Jake Baggaley was shooting stills, along with Jenny Tough and John Summerton from Sidetracked, as well as friends Wim Stevenson and Maleek Kuba-Kuba.

Day two, and the weather outside was hammering the cobwebbed windows of the bothy, the draught blowing admirably through the gaps. The fire was doing its best to warm our bodies and dry our clothes hanging from string on the ceiling and boots on the hearth. The whimsical fingerprints of many who had stayed here were all around: scallop shells leaning against the window, a couple of books. The team walked in late, collected wood on the way, and started a fire. It was time to catch up with old friends and discuss the project. The plan had been to packraft in, but the weather scuttled those plans… plus the fear that there’d be just too much to carry out. And there would have been.

‘A few years ago, we came to this area and fell in love with it,’ Matt Green said, ‘but we were surprised and saddened that despite it being such a remote place, it was affected by so much marine litter. We were really excited when chatting with VOITED about what we could do about the situation, so we got a load of crazy people together and headed out. Now we’re here to make a difference – sometimes it feels like a small one – but it is an important one, showing people that it’s easy to come on an adventure, have a good time, and leave it better than you left it.

‘Adventure with purpose is really important, and storytelling around your adventure is equally important – whether that takes the form of just sharing with your friends what you’ve done, through social media, or in our case, through our films.’

Matt had touched on the crux of the problem: how can just a handful of people make a difference? Cleaning one beach, picking the detritus of modern life and modern industry, would, for a while, improve this area, but the problem is vast and global. What, the discussion continued, was really the point?

‘I feel as a filmmaker a sense of responsibility to share these stories, because we have the opportunity to influence how other people act and behave when they’re having adventures and going out into the world. If we encourage people to pick up even one thing, then that’s one fewer thing that’s going to be out there.’

That morning, the weather had worsened. They saw the wall of rain come down Loch a’ Chàirn Bhàin and hit the bothy. After the second cup of coffee, with no chance of a respite, the decision was made to go out, wrapped in VOITED apparel, into the weather.

Jake Baggaley later said: ‘I was really surprised at the volume of rubbish we found on the beach and how it had become one with the landscape. There was grass growing over the ropes and it was like the plastic had grown into the land.’

Much of the rubbish was – ironically, given the sea life this affects – mostly industrial fishing waste: ropes, ship bags, floats, polystyrene used in fishing, and just, well, bits of things. And then there was the plastic Shein packaging.

‘It felt really good to be somewhere beautiful like this,’ Jake added. ‘And feeling like we’re leaving it better than we found it. It’s a really positive thing.’

Back in the bothy, the fire crackling again, wet clothes hung up again, and with Maleek working wonders on a Jetboil, the team reflected on the day.

‘We’ve talked about how demoralising it can be,’ Wim Stevenson said, ‘because there’s just so much of it and does what we’ve done make a difference? It’s a pure numbers game, but the importance of what we do comes through in the tale of the action.

‘With industrial waste, you need to do the action to then talk about the action, to then change the culture, to then influence policy change. It’s one grain of sand in one beach of change.’

Ellie nodded beside him. None of it could be done alone. She said, ‘We started the journey about five years ago to reach this point. We got this little seedling of an idea, and then we wanted to bring it all together – but with a group of people who had the same kind of vibe, and were also as passionate about leaving the remote areas that we enjoy in as good a way as possible.’

It needs friends, commitment – and the support of a commercial partner helps too. ‘VOITED are the ideal partners. We met them when they were organising a beach clean in Cornwall, and they’re really passionate about making a difference. We knew the conditions up here would be interesting but the apparel they create is ideal for after you’ve been out getting wet and dirty.’

Jake agreed. ‘I’ve worked with VOITED on a few shoots over a few years now and I always love their attitude to the outdoors. VOITED are always so positive, and they want to show people enjoying being outdoors and enjoying that environment. So I’ve always loved working with them. It’s always some good type-two fun, and this has not disappointed.’

By now, the rain swept further inland, leaving a rainbow in its wake, and the sunlight was reaching the loch. It was time for a swim. The dogs, Wynter and Lola, were the first to brave the black loch, closely (but trepidatiously) followed by the newly monikered Anti-Pollution Pirates. Type-two fun indeed. Whisky, wrapped up warm around the fire, a plink on Wim’s ukulele (a sea shanty of course), and a fun evening of conversation and banter: it’s how all evenings in a Scottish bothy seem to go.

The morning, however, sobered their thoughts as they carried 600L of rubbish out. We’re going to need more pirates.