In the early eighteenth century, as the great colonial powers of Europe expanded across continents, a quiet migration began from the windswept shores of Orkney to the icy hinterlands of Canada. At the heart of this unlikely connection was the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC), one of the oldest commercial enterprises in the world, and one that turned thousands of young Orkneymen into fur traders, explorers, and agents of empire.
For many of these men, the journey started in Stromness, the west coast port that became the company’s primary North Atlantic recruitment station. Each summer, Hudson’s Bay ships docked in the harbor to take on supplies—and labor. Between the early 1700s and late 1800s, as many as 4,000 Orcadians would sail west to take part in the fur trade, a journey that shaped both their futures and the history of Canada.
Why Orkney?
The Hudson’s Bay Company favored Orkneymen for several pragmatic reasons:
Toughness and resilience: Raised in a harsh climate with little luxury, the islanders were already adapted to difficult living conditions.
Seafaring skill: Many Orcadians had experience as fishermen or sailors, making them natural fits for the demanding maritime lifestyle.
Reputation for loyalty: HBC officials considered Orcadians to be sober, reliable, and less prone to desertion or rebellion compared to some English or Irish recruits.
But perhaps most importantly, Orkney had few opportunities at home. With the decline of traditional industries like kelp burning, flax spinning, and straw plaiting, young men had little to lose by leaving and much to gain in the wilds of Rupert’s Land.
Life in the Fur Trade
Upon arrival in Canada, Orkneymen were sent to remote trading posts like York Factory, Moose Factory, and Fort Garry. Their job was to trade with Indigenous peoples—primarily Cree and Inuit—for furs, especially beaver pelts, which were then shipped back to London to be turned into fashionable hats.
Life at these outposts was hard and isolating. Winters were long and brutal. Supply lines were unpredictable. Medical care was rudimentary at best. And many recruits were illiterate, cut off from any real communication with home.
Still, some Orkneymen thrived. They rose through the ranks from laborers to clerks, and even to chief factors—the highest-ranking officials at HBC posts. Others formed families with local Indigenous women, creating distinct Métis communities that blended Scottish and Native traditions. Some returned to Orkney with savings and status; others stayed for life and helped to forge the economic and social foundations of Canada’s north.
John Rae: The Explorer Who Knew Better
The most famous of all Orkneymen to serve with the Hudson’s Bay Company was Dr. John Rae, born in 1813 in Hall of Clestrain, Orphir. Rae was not just a physician, but a hardy adventurer and skilled surveyor. Unlike many of his contemporaries, Rae learned survival skills directly from the Inuit, mastering snowshoe travel, hunting, and cold-weather endurance.
In 1854, Rae discovered the fate of Sir John Franklin’s ill-fated Northwest Passage expedition—something that had eluded countless better-funded search missions. Rae’s account included credible reports of starvation and cannibalism among the crew. This truthful report earned him vitriol from the British establishment, especially from Franklin’s widow, Lady Jane Franklin, and the public figure Charles Dickens, who smeared Rae for accepting “savage” testimony.
Despite this, Rae’s achievements are now widely recognized. He was one of the few Arctic explorers who survived, succeeded, and respected Indigenous knowledge. A statue in Stromness and a memorial in St. Magnus Cathedral pay tribute to his legacy.
Stories That Stayed Silent
For every John Rae, there were hundreds of unnamed or forgotten Orkneymen who worked the traplines, built outposts, and guided expeditions into unmapped terrain. Many never returned. Their stories remain in brittle logbooks, faded family letters, and whispered traditions on both sides of the Atlantic.
Even among those who did return, reintegration was difficult. Having lived in a radically different environment for five or ten years, these men often brought back customs and stories that didn’t quite fit in the crofts and kirks of Orkney. But they did bring back money, tools, and new ways of thinking—elements that subtly transformed their home communities.
Some men settled in Canada permanently, forming part of a burgeoning Scottish diaspora in the Red River Settlement and beyond. Their descendants today are proud Métis Canadians, many still bearing Orkney surnames like Flett, Sinclair, and Linklater.
Echoes of Empire in Orkney’s Wind
Today, the influence of the Hudson’s Bay Company is not always visible in Orkney, but it is certainly present. In Stromness Museum, artifacts of the trade—moccasins, trade goods, HBC uniforms—sit alongside the more domestic relics of Orcadian life. The museum preserves names and stories that, in many other places, would have been lost to time.
And if you walk along the stone piers of Stromness, it’s not hard to imagine a sailing ship anchored just offshore, its deck lined with young men scanning the horizon, wondering what lay ahead in that great, frozen land they’d never seen before.
What they couldn’t have known is that they were building a nation—not with grand speeches or armies, but with hard labor, mutual dependence, and the quiet strength of those who go where others will not.