Protecting Orkney’s Wild Future: Rachel Bigsby Explores the Groundbreaking Project Saving Native Wildlife from the Brink

Wildlife photographer and RSPB Ambassador, Rachel Bigsby, shares her insights from a recent RSPB ambassadorial visit to the Orkney Native Wildlife Project — a world-first conservation initiative working to remove invasive stoats and protect one of the UK’s most ecologically significant island ecosystems.

Rachel Bigsby stood beside RSPB Noup Cliffs, Westray. © Rachel Bigsby

There are few places in the UK where wildlife feels as present, as vocal, and as deeply interwoven with daily life as it does in Orkney. The remote Scottish archipelago, just north of the mainland, is more than scenic, it’s ecologically vital. During my recent ambassadorial visit with the RSPB, I witnessed first-hand the extraordinary work taking place to protect the islands’ native wildlife.

I travelled to Orkney to explore the Orkney Native Wildlife Project — a pioneering initiative that’s the first of its kind in the Northern Hemisphere and the largest eradication project ever carried out on inhabited islands. The project is a bold collaboration between the RSPB, NatureScot and Orkney Islands Council, and it even employs Europe’s first conservation stoat detection dogs. In just a few short years, it’s already delivering powerful results.

Why Orkney Matters

A stoat trap below The Ring of Brodgar Stone Circle and Henge.  © Rachel Bigsby

Orkney sits along the East Atlantic Flyway — a crucial migratory route used by more than 150 bird species journeying between the Arctic and Africa. The islands are home to 20% of the UK’s hen harrier population, up to 11% of its breeding seabirds, and are the only place on Earth where the Orkney vole exists. But that richness came under sudden and serious threat in 2010, when stoats — a non-native species — were discovered on the islands.

The impact has been devastating. Stoats prey on ground-nesting birds, eggs, and small mammals, and have placed multiple native species at risk. Bigsby was shown evidence of a single stoat nest containing the remains of more than 100 voles — a haunting image that underscored the severity of the threat.

Removing stoats from Orkney may appear harsh to some, but it is an urgent and necessary act of protection. In this unique ecosystem, stoats are the difference between survival and extinction for many species. Without intervention, the loss would be far-reaching — not just of individual animals, but of the intricate ecological balance that defines Orkney.

Since the project began in 2018, more than 7,500 stoats have been removed. The scale of the effort is immense: over £16 million in funding, 8,000 traps deployed, and a united community working alongside conservationists to make it possible.

What stood out most to me wasn’t just the size of the operation — it was the ethos behind it. Everyone she met, from seasoned ecologists to young trappers, spoke of stoats not with blame, but with quiet respect. These are, after all, the right animals in the wrong place. That clear-eyed compassion sets the tone for the project — not just improving outcomes, but building emotional investment in the work.

Conservation Through Community

A local farmer discusses the importance of the project to protect his Hen Harrier population.  © Rachel Bigsby

The Orkney Native Wildlife Project is powered by people.

Local farmers allow trap access on their land. Traps themselves are handmade on Orkney by a local business. Volunteers dedicate time to report sightings, monitor wildlife, and support surveys. This is not conservation done to a place — it is conservation done with it.

As I travelled across the islands, it became clear that this was not a community participating in a project — it was a community protecting its home. The initiative is as much about preserving a way of life as it is about biodiversity. It’s a deeply human story, rooted in relationships, trust, and shared purpose. In conversation with two young trappers, I asked whether they ever paused to consider the legacy of their work — that they might one day say they helped save Orkney’s wildlife. They smiled, shrugged — clearly more focused on the task than the recognition. But the legacy is undeniable, and it grows with every step they take.

A Nose for Nature

Europe's first conservation stoat detection dog, with her handler. © Rachel Bigsby

One of the most fascinating moments of my visit was witnessing Europe’s first conservation detection dogs in action. Trained to detect even the faintest trace of stoat activity, one dog identified scat over three months old. The focus and precision of the dog was mirrored by the calm expertise of its handler. Together, they moved as one — a seamless partnership built on trust, training, and instinct. It was a quiet, powerful reminder that conservation is as much about connection as it is about science.

Encounters to Remember

An Atlantic Puffin (Fratercula arctica) amongst wild flowers. © Rachel Bigsby

Throughout my time in Orkney, I was struck by how alive the islands sounded. The wailing call of curlews echoed across the fields like an ancient lament. Lapwings crackled overhead in looping flight. Oystercatchers cried out in staccato bursts. Beneath it all, the soft rhythm of waves met the sigh of wind through bog cotton — a soundscape as rich as the wildlife it holds. The landscape is equally vibrant: a shifting patchwork of moorland, meadows, wetlands, cliffs, and crofts. Wildflowers bloom in the wind — buttercups, orchids, heather, bog cotton — each corner offering refuge for species to thrive. And then, there was the wildlife. From the moment I landed, I felt immersed in wildness. A short-eared owl greeted me at the runway. Arctic Terns shrieked above me on her first walk along the beach. A personal highlight came while photographing Little Terns for the first time, delicate and full of confidence as they danced through the air. I crouched at the shoreline, giddy with joy. I watched Hen Harriers ghost over the moor, and saw Puffins, Guillemots, Gannets, Skuas, Oystercatchers, and more. Each encounter a quiet reminder of what’s at stake.

Leaving with Hope

A young trapper, next to the Orkney Native Wildlife Project van. © Rachel Bigsby

As I left Orkney, I reflected on what I'd seen — the scale of the challenge, the energy behind the solution, and the unwavering power of people coming together with purpose. What began as a field visit had become something more: a journey into community, resilience, and a shared determination to protect what matters most. This project may well become the reason Orkney’s wildlife is saved. That’s not just an inspiring idea — it is already becoming a reality.

The story unfolding in Orkney is not only relevant to the islands. It’s a lesson for us all — a reminder that change is possible when we act together, with courage, care and clarity.

The Orkney Native Wildlife Project is one of the most ambitious and effective conservation efforts in the UK today. It is bold, evidence-based, and powered by people who care — deeply. It serves as a timely reminder: that progress is possible, that native biodiversity can be protected, and that when communities lead with heart and science, we can shift the future for wildlife.