The teenagers ditching university to become stonemasons, sheep shearers and fishermen

Most workers are paid monthly or by the hour. But Katy Gardner, from Castle Douglas in Scotland, operates on a different metric, earning about £1.20 for every sheep she shears.

Although she is only 26, Gardner has been shearing for six years – and recalls she once stripped 422 sheep of their coats in a single day. “I find it therapeutic,” she says. “You create your own rhythm.”

Gardner began her career aged 19 on her aunt’s farm, rolling wool and spending the occasional day with the shearers. After finishing her degree in rural business management at Edinburgh University, she went full-time – and the job since has taken her from Norway to New Zealand.

“I would have to describe it as a bug,” Gardner says. “I always thought I’d stop once I’d shorn 100 sheep, then I thought I’d stop at 300, but I kept going.”

Gardner is far from the only young person embracing a career in a centuries-old profession. Figures published by the Institute for Apprenticeships and Technical Education, the Government’s skills training agency, show a recent surge in school leavers embarking on careers in heritage industries.

This year, a newly launched professional forester apprenticeship had 26 new starters, while 53 people started a stonemasonry apprenticeship last year – up from just one in 2020.

Billy Brad, 24, is one such stonemason. He has been fully qualified for six months, having skipped his Highers (the Scottish equivalent to A-levels) to earn while he learned.

“Every job is different,” he says of his day-to-day. “Right now we’re on surface dressing but in some days we’ll be doing modelling work or window reveals.

“I like the challenge. You’re always learning on the job even after my time as an apprentice. I wasn’t very academic so a desk job never interested me at all.”

Brad comes from a family of heritage workers, and he says his blacksmith father is supportive of the apprenticeship, which allows him to continue living in Berwick-upon-Tweed.

“I’m not much of a talker and luckily for me this job was right on my doorstep,” he says. “My dad was quite hands-on with his trade as well – I think he’s proud.”

Working for stone merchants Hatton Stone, Brad earns £13.60 an hour, and his pay rises by about 5pc every year, he says.

Most young people entering into a legacy trade like Brad do so through apprenticeships. In March, the Government announced major reforms to boost funding for the schemes and cut red tape. From April, the Government will pay the full cost of apprenticeships for under-21s in small businesses – previously, they had to find 5pc of the costs.

The added funding is good news for heritage industries, which have reported increasing interest from young people. But Jennifer Coulands, of the Institute for Apprenticeships and Technical Education, points out that numbers are still low.

“If you think of stonemasons, last year we had 53 and this year so far we have 29 – so we are seeing growth, but on the other hand we have 25,000 on ICT apprenticeships.”

The rising interest from Generation Z in these old-fashioned careers can be attributed to social media, as heritage workers share day-in-the-life videos on TikTok.

“Young people are seeing saddle-makers and thatchers and realising you can make a living,” says Coulands. “Many of these are ancient jobs but social media is putting occupations in front of people who wouldn’t have come across them before.”

Much like Gardner’s therapeutic sensation of shearing sheep, young people who spent school years under lockdown have a heightened desire to find meaning in work, says Ms Couplands.

“The nature of these jobs is quite satisfying because you see a job from beginning to end.

“If you’re a saddler you’re responsible for selecting the leather, measuring the horse, handstitching, then fitting it. You take real pride in the beginning-to-end process.”

By contrast, those in corporate roles might work with teams of dozens.

“A civil servant at entry level might spend their day working on a report for a meeting they don’t get to go to, over a decision they don’t get to make,” she adds.

These centuries-old jobs have typically been kept in families, but apprenticeships have opened them up. Rhys Piper, 19, has a few months left of his course before he can become a fisherman full-time.

He estimates two weeks out of five are spent in a classroom learning how to use and mend nets. “But I enjoy being at sea more than in class,” he says.

The teenager, whose parents are farmers, would never have considered a career in fishing had it not been for the apprenticeship scheme –otherwise Piper would have been an equine podiatrist, he says.

“I enjoy the freedom – you can escape it all at sea,” he says. “We have to be at sea by 8am and when you get back you only have time to fix your gear, get some sleep then go back out. But I don’t mind – I like working.”

Like Gardner, Piper is not paid by the hour but is instead rewarded by how many fish he catches. A good day can net a few hundred pounds, while a bad day is closer to £30.

“I am keeping some money back,” he says. “In five years I want to own my own boat.”

School leavers have also opted for careers in concrete testing and bricklaying rather than rack up tens of thousands in tuition fee debt.

The Student Loans Company estimates that the average debt for a university graduate who started their course in 2022 is £45,600 by the time they have completed their course. Apprenticeships are entirely subsidised by the Government end employers, meaning graduates are debt-free.

“I never considered uni – the debt put me off,” says Kieran Frankland, who is currently undertaking a bricklaying apprenticeship at the National House Building Council’s (NHBC) Training Hub in Hull.

Instead, the 17-year-old is paid £917 a month to learn on the job. In the next 15 years, he hopes to be a site manager.

“I’m saving up for a car,” he says. “I had always wanted to be self-employed and I also get to be hands-on. I always hated being behind a desk.”

Conor Haigh, also 17, is a materials tech apprentice. His day-to-day consists of running tests on different types of cement samples to determine their suitability for use in construction. The job, he says, has made him more confident.

“Before I was here I struggled with social stuff, like going out and talking to people. But in this environment, I have had to do that in order to do the job.”

Haigh speaks excitedly and confidently about various types of eco cement – and it’s clear the job is highly technical. But he maintains university was never for him.

“I’ve never been big on university as it’s a lot to commit to for that much debt and I wasn’t sure I’d get the value out of it.”