Why Scots Called This Fish ‘Silver Darlings’ — and Nobody Talks About It Now

In the height of summer, you could barely see the sea for boats. The harbour at Wick was so crowded with fishing vessels that sailors could step from deck to deck all the way across. Barrels lined the quays for miles. The smell of salt and fish hung in the air for weeks.

This was Scotland in the 1860s. And the fish that caused all of this — small, silvery, unremarkable to look at — was the herring.

What Made Herring Worth Its Weight in Silver?

Scots did not call herring the “silver darlings” by accident. When a net was hauled up on a bright morning, thousands of herring would catch the light at once, shimmering like liquid metal in the water.

But it was their practicality that made them so valuable. Herring were abundant, easy to catch, and could be preserved for months by salting and barrelling. In the days before refrigeration, that made them an extraordinary food source across Europe — from the Baltic ports to the dinner tables of Russia.

Scotland’s cold, nutrient-rich waters were particularly rich in herring. Scottish fishermen had centuries of experience reading the tides and the weather, and the combination was irresistible.

The Town That Herring Built

No place tells the story better than Wick, on the far north coast of Caithness. At its peak in the 1860s, it was one of the busiest fishing harbours in the world.

In a single season, over 1,100 boats worked out of the bay. Millions of herring were landed on the quayside in just a few summer months. The town swelled with fishermen, labourers, and traders from across Scotland and beyond.

Thomas Telford — one of Scotland’s greatest engineers — designed a whole new quarter called Pulteneytown specifically to house the industry. Streets laid out in a grid. Curing houses and barrel works lining the shore. Today, Wick Heritage Museum holds one of the finest collections of fishing history in Scotland, and the photographs of those packed harbours are astonishing.

The Women Who Gutted a Nation

If the fishermen were the stars of the herring story, the herring lassies were the engine.

Teams of women — many from the Hebrides and the Western Isles — followed the herring fleet along Scotland’s coast throughout the season. At long troughs called “farlins,” they gutted and salted herring at an extraordinary pace. Sixty fish per minute was not unusual.

Their hands were constantly cut by the salt brine. They wrapped oilskin bandages around their fingers to protect the wounds, worked in all weathers, lived in basic lodgings, and sang as they worked. They travelled from Wick in the north all the way to Great Yarmouth in England, following the shoals south through the year.

Scotland’s herring economy ran on their labour — and their stories are only now beginning to be properly told.

Enjoying this? 43,000+ Scotland lovers get stories like this every week. Subscribe free →

How the Silver Darlings Disappeared

The herring boom could not last. By the early twentieth century, stocks were already declining from decades of intensive fishing. Two world wars disrupted trade and shattered traditional markets. Refrigeration ended the demand for salt-preserved fish.

New trawling technology allowed boats to take fish at rates the stocks simply could not sustain. By the 1960s and 1970s, North Sea herring were in serious trouble. In 1977, North Sea herring fishing was closed entirely for three years to allow stocks to recover.

It was a quiet end to what had been Scotland’s most important food industry for centuries.

Scotland’s Herring Is Coming Back

Here is what most visitors do not know: Scottish herring is making a quiet comeback.

Managed carefully since the moratorium, North Sea herring is now certified as sustainable by the Marine Stewardship Council. The fish are thriving again in Scottish waters.

If you visit the East Neuk of Fife — one of Scotland’s most beautiful coastal stretches — you can find smoked herring in local smokehouses. Loch Fyne in Argyll produces some of the finest kippers in the country. Along Scotland’s east coast, herring is finding its way back onto menus as a seasonal speciality.

It is not the Victorian heyday. But the silver darlings are finding their way home.

How to Try Scottish Herring Today

Kippers are cold-smoked herring — Scotland’s classic preparation. Find them at a good fishmonger, or on the breakfast menu at a traditional B&B or hotel.

Marinated herring is a Scandinavian style now found in Scottish delis — a simple and beautiful way to eat the fish. Rollmops (pickled herring rolled around a gherkin) are also widely found across Scotland.

Fresh grilled herring is the real revelation. When you see it on a restaurant menu, order it. It is rich, flavourful, and deeply underrated — exactly the kind of dish Scotland has been too modest about for years. Scotland takes its coastal food seriously in ways that surprise visitors, as anyone who has tasted Scotland’s remarkable shellfish will tell you.

Frequently Asked Questions

When was Scotland’s herring industry at its peak?

The herring boom peaked roughly between the 1850s and 1880s. In that period, Wick was considered one of the busiest herring ports in the world, and Scottish fishing towns along the east and north coasts were thriving. The industry declined sharply in the early twentieth century and collapsed in the mid-1970s.

Where can I try Scottish herring today?

The East Neuk of Fife, Loch Fyne in Argyll, and many coastal towns in Caithness and the Highlands still serve herring. Look for kippers on breakfast menus, marinated herring in delis, and fresh grilled herring on restaurant menus in fishing villages. Wick Heritage Museum also tells the full story of the industry.

What is a kipper and is it Scottish?

A kipper is a whole herring that has been cold-smoked. While kippers are found across Britain, Scotland’s herring-smoking tradition is particularly old. Scottish kippers — especially from Loch Fyne in Argyll — are considered some of the finest in the country, and remain a classic Scottish breakfast dish.

Who were the herring lassies?

The herring lassies were teams of women, many from the Hebrides and other island communities, who followed the herring fleet along Scotland’s coast each season to gut and barrel the catch. They could gut up to sixty fish per minute and travelled between ports from Caithness to Yarmouth throughout the year. Their contribution to the industry was immense and is now better recognised in museums and local history projects.

Every harbour town on Scotland’s coast carries the memory of the silver darlings. The old curing houses, the salt-worn stones, the names carved into local museums — they all point back to those extraordinary decades when a small, gleaming fish fed an empire.

Scotland’s coastline is still beautiful, still full of fish, still home to people who know how to read the sea. The silver darlings are back. All you have to do is ask for them.