Rock star Fish on his farewell tour and new life as an island crofter

A towering 6ft 5ins, with flowing hair, full makeup, theatrical costumes and knack for haunting and poetic lyrics, he embraced the world of rock and roll to the full.

There were wild nights on tour, hazy days recovering and, eventually, a band bust-up that captured front page headlines. Undaunted, he became a solo star with devoted fans across Europe.

But, he points out, he’s now almost 66.  And not even rock stars can hold back time.

In recent weeks he’s lost two front teeth, partly thanks to the pandemic and the challenges of seeing a dentist.

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He rolls up his trouser legs to reveal 8-inch scars on both legs from  knee replacement operations.

His hands tell of his genetic makeup; some fingers are bent due to Dupuytren's disease, or ‘Viking disease’ due to its links with those of Northern European DNA.

In 2016 he had a discectomy procedure on his back to relieve pressure on his spinal nerves, the same year he lost his Hibs-daft dad Robert to bladder cancer while his mum, Isabella, is now gripped by dementia.

With no interest in trotting out his most famous song, Kayleigh, at ‘chicken in a basket’ cabaret shows, everything pointed towards a drastic rethink.

But not even he could have predicted how a seven-hour car journey from home in rural East Lothian to an island at the edge of the Atlantic, a 35-acres croft, rather dilapidated house and 13 blackface ewes would change his life.

That spot on the island of Berneray, with a crisp white beach on the doorstep, sea eagles soaring overhead, and dark nights lit by the Northern Lights, will soon become home.

From there, the Western Isles’ most unlikely crofter plans to raise sheep, plant trees, grow fruit and veg for wife Simone to serve in the intimate and informal restaurant she plans to run.

Derek Dick (better known as Fish) at his East Lothian home with his wife Simone (Image: Gordon Terris/The Herald)

He’s built up a small fleet of farm vehicles, arranged access to a peat bank for winter fuel and sorted his tenancy with the Crofting Commission.

And he’s getting to know his 140 or so fellow islanders, tried to get his head into Gaelic and uncovered a wealth of coincidences that convince both their bold move is the right one.

“I love it there,” he says. “It feels really weird, but I feel at home, like I belong.

“I’m at an age now where I was thinking we have one big adventure in our lives left, and this is a really big adventure. Let’s go for it.”

The journey to this new life is via Germany, the Netherlands, Sweden, Poland, Austria and Scandinavia, destinations on the European section of his recently announced and appropriately named Road to the Isles Farewell Tour.

Between October and March next year, he’ll pack in around 50 dates across the UK and abroad. The response from fans has blown him away: what was to be his last show at the O2 in Glasgow sold out in less than 48 hours.

One highlight will be two dates at the Corn Exchange in Haddington, close to his current home. Tickets sold out less than an hour.

With such demand, is this really the right time to call a halt?

“I reached the point where I was thinking ‘I don’t want to be doing this anymore’,” he says.

“I didn’t want to be singing ‘Kayleigh’ for the rest of my life. I was not going to be playing stadiums again. My audience is getting older, they don’t come to gigs as much as they used to.

“It’s all very well saying the Rolling Stones are doing it.

“It’s different when you have personal physiotherapists and you are doing gigs every couple of weeks, to five shows a week, travelling by bus across five different countries.”

Besides, the modern music industry was making him increasingly frustrated. The days of his youth when prog rock fans could see the Yes at the Usher Hall – his first gig - for a pounds were well past.

Today’s streaming apps, huge mark-ups on merchandise that left fans feeling ripped off, narrow profit margins and the red-tape of Brexit left him cold.

“I’m bored with it,” he admits. “I’m bored with this circular album-tour-album-tour which is what it had become.

“It’s hard to sell your product now because people listen to music in a different way. The only way to make money is on the road.

“Every angle has become more difficult to operate. The music business is dire.

“I’ve had a great time,” he stresses, “and this tour is going to be fun. I’m looking forward to it.

“I’m going out with a bunch of mates. Every gig will be for the last time. I’ll be singing ‘Kayleigh’ thinking I’ve only got another nine, eight, seven of these to do.

“Yes, it’s going to be emotional but I’ve had enough.

“Besides,” he laughs, “there’s probably more money in sheep than there is in Spotify.”

Yet crofting was never really on his radar until just a few months ago.

The couple had been thinking of downsizing from their one acre farmhouse in East Lothian, and creating a new home together.

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When an old friend who lived on Berneray in the Sound of Harris suggested they visit, they planned a road trip to a part of the country neither had really experienced before.

They packed the car, hit the road and fell in love.

“It was like ‘wow!’,” he adds. “I’d never been to the Western Isles apart from Stornoway for a gig on a solo tour. This was just incredible.

“My friend asked if we wanted to go to a ceilidh in a byre on North Uist. It had a sand floor and there was a band playing Runrig tunes, I was drinking whisky and doing Strip the Willow.

“I went outside and got talking to a lassie. She said her name was Kayleigh – can you believe that? Kayleigh at a ceilidh talking to me, who sang Kayleigh.

“I asked if her dad was Marillion fan, and she said no, that her mum had fancied the singer.”

'There are so many creatives on the islands; poets, writers, playwrights. I want to write. Everyone says I’m a singer but I’m not, I’m a writer who sings' Photo by Gordon Terris (Image: Newsquest)

It would be just one of a string of coincidences that convinced the couple they are doing the right thing.

Derek tells how he has connected dots in his family tree that hint his ancestors’ roots lie off the mainland. The DNA link to his Dupuytren's ‘viking’ disease seems further evidence.

Then as they delved into the costs of buying the croft and repairs to the island home came unexpected news of a windfall payment for future royalties. It arrived on the anniversary of death of his ex-girlfriend, Kay, inspiration for his best known song, Kayleigh, almost like a sign from the beyond that they should go for it.

Then came the day they stood on their new land overlooking a beautiful loch and discovered its name, Loch Tara. Both have daughters called Tara.

“I thought ‘this is crazy, it’s meant to be’,” he says.

It’s not all been plain sailing: they bought the croft in February last year to discover it in much worse condition than they’d thought. Just finding a builder and transporting materials for the work was their first challenge.

'I feel that at 66-years old I have been handed a blank piece of paper to do with whatever we want' Photo by Gordon Terris (Image: Newsquest)

Yet both brim with enthusiasm as they rattle through their plans to have initial renovations complete by May, a walled garden in a former steading to grow ingredients for Simone’s restaurant, of solar panels and satellite phone links.

Fish has been eyeing up polycarbonate tunnels for veg, and there’s the 13 ewes which, by the tour end in March will be ready to introduce the couple to the joys of lambing.

“It’s a massive learning curve,” he adds. “It sounds like a lot of work, but what we do now - the merchandise, tours, managing it all - is a shed load of work too.

“Take that out of the equation and we get our life back.”

While the island may ignite a new chapter of creativity. “There are so many creatives on the islands; poets, writers, playwrights. I want to write. Everyone says I’m a singer but I’m not, I’m a writer who sings,” he adds.

“I have an autobiography to write, I might do a podcast on the croft, there are archaeological remains there, a 14th chapel and graveyard, and I’m interested in all that stuff.

“And I’m genuinely interested in working with sheep.

“I love the weather, the wind and the rain. Everything about it.

“I feel that at 66-years old I have been handed a blank piece of paper to do with whatever we want.”