I must confess I relished eating guga when I was younger. It's not for people living in urban communities to become pious about the issue and demand a ban, says author Donald S Murray

A number of years ago, I recall hearing a song entitled Anchor Me by a rock group called Mutton Birds. As someone who came from a location where I was often whirled about by winds and storms, it was a title that had a huge impact, especially when I listened to its lyrics with their references to ‘storm clouds’, ‘salt spray’ and the wash of ‘green waves’. Even though the band came from New Zealand, each word felt familiar, a distant home from home.

For all that the music had a great impact on me, the band’s title, Mutton Birds attracted my imagination even more. Part of my youth had involved the consumption of young gannets, known as ‘guga’, a segment of my diet throughout a few days of each year. Obtained from the island of Sula Sgeir to the north of Lewis, it is still eaten in my native Ness today, consumed together with potatoes and a glass of milk.

I must confess I relished it, especially when I heard some of the older residents in the village declare that they had eaten a wide range of birds when they were younger. There were some, for instance, who mentioned the........

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