Vágar, in the Faroe Islands. Photo / Liz Carlson
Cruising around the North Atlantic Isles promises adventures you can’t get anywhere else, writes Liz Carlson.
The late summer sun was just dipping below the horizon the first time I saw a puffin in the wild. They’re so much smaller than you’d expect. We were cruising by zodiac along the rugged coastline of Fair Isle in Scotland, taking in the enormous seabird colonies that coat the cliffs. In Shetland, they call this time of year “da simmer dim”, that midsummer twilight when the sun just dips below the horizon but never fully sets, leaving the night glowing and magical. Giant gannets soared above red sea cliffs, bringing seaweed home to build a nest while puffins waddled amongst the wildflowers. It couldn’t have been more picturesque, and it truly hit home how wild this place was.
The Shetland Islands tick all the boxes for remote North Atlantic adventure; closer to Norway than to Edinburgh, these wild isles evoke nostalgia and our deep connection to the sea. Ancient trading roots spread from the Scottish Isles north toward the Faroe Islands and Iceland. Even Greenland entered this historic chat at one point. These islands are best experienced by sea, the same way they were settled over millennia. And the best way to get around? A small expedition ship with Adventure Canada – think under 100 passengers.
For me, the ocean is the ultimate connection between people and place. The ship becomes more than transport; it’s your floating home and the thread tying far-flung isles together. Sailing after Vikings, monks, fishermen, and explorers who once traced these routes, there’s a sense of existence in the in-between: not quite on land, not fully at sea. And how great is it to see so many places but go to sleep in the same bed every night? Amazing.
Cruising here feels like stepping into another world, raw, remote, and full of stories. On St Kilda, a bucket-list destination for many, the cliffs erupt with the chaos of gannets, tens of thousands wheeling and diving in every direction. Just beyond, the abandoned stone houses, left behind when the last residents departed in 1930, still whisper of crofting communities who once carved out a hard life on the edge of the Atlantic. You might even catch a glimpse of the Soay, the St Kilda sheep, a primitive breed that’s small and hardy with short horns, naturally shedding wool, living wild, and resembling Neolithic sheep.
Fair Isle, iconic for its knitwear and puffins, is another remote Scottish island best experienced by expedition ship. Here you can watch puffins tending to their pufflings in burrows tucked among wildflowers. Further south, Stornoway and Skye reveal layers of Gaelic history and myth, and yes, plenty of sheep. Many of these landings are only possible with a small ship, a way of travelling that lets you step ashore in places most people will only glimpse from afar.
Inhabited since Mesolithic times, history and tradition reign strong in Shetland and Orkney. On Orkney, the standing stones at the Ring of Brodgar and the remarkably preserved Neolithic village of Skara Brae offer a direct window into life thousands of years ago. In summer, the landscape blooms purple with heather. Foula, with its 30 residents, shows how remote the UK can be. Staggering cliffs, open landscape, and traditional peat cutting make you feel far from the big smoke. Shetland ponies are everywhere, and even the local accents echo the island’s connection to Old Norse and the Norn language.
Sailing toward the Faroe Islands from Scotland feels like arriving somewhere both remote and alive. Becoming buzzy only over the past few years, the Faroes are still not easy to get to. Approaching Elduvík by zodiac, the turf-roofed villages seem to rise from the cliffs, and the dramatic sea stacks at Vestmanna and Tindhólmur take your breath away. The islands have a rhythm rooted in centuries of Norse tradition, yet every village carries a fiercely independent Faroese identity.
Tórshavn, with its colourful rooftops and quiet streets, shows how the islands balance history and modern life. The small outposts scattered across cliffs and inlets really capture your imagination, and you’d be hard-pressed to access them without a ship. Travelling by sea, you feel the geography as much as you see it; every landing is earned, every village a discovery. With more than 70% of the land rising over 200m above the sea, the Faroes’ cliffs and rugged scenery remind you that the most magical places are often the hardest to reach, and that’s exactly why the journey matters as much as the destination.
Sailing from the Faroes toward Iceland with Adventure Canada, anticipation builds with every mile across the open ocean. The first glimpse of Heimaey, with its volcanic cliffs and small harbour, feels like stepping into a storybook, a place shaped by fire, sea, and generations of fishermen. Even the new volcanic island of Surtsey comes into view, a rare reminder of land still forming before our eyes. Along the way, we often spot orca and other marine mammals, reminders of the wildlife thriving in these northern seas. Approaching Reykjavík gives you a perspective few travellers experience, the city framed by fjords and rugged coastline rather than crowded streets. If you’re lucky, you might even get glimpses of nearby volcanoes erupting.
Iceland’s volcanic landscapes unfold slowly, each fjord and outcropping showing how raw and untamed the land really is. Stopping in remote towns along the coast, you meet people whose lives are intimately tied to the ocean, places most visitors never see. Every landing feels like a privilege, a chance to explore beyond the usual tourist trail and circumnavigate islands and inlets inaccessible by road. Travelling by sea, you feel Iceland in a way that is about motion, perspective, and the quiet magic of arriving where few ever do, so different from the hustle and bustle of a road trip.
Cruising the North Atlantic, from far-flung Scottish Isles to the Faroes and Iceland, offers moments you can only get from exploring these remote places by sea. From intimate wildlife encounters to authentic cultural experiences and dramatic landings, the journey reminds you why travelling by sea is the only way to stitch these islands together into a single story.