The Isle of May

My mother, sister Amy and brother-in-law Ted arrived on Saturday (despite a small mix-up when I went to the Glasgow airport to pick them up and realized, upon parking the car and finding my way to the International arrivals gate where the only “international” flights listed were coming from Dublin, that there are actually two international airports in Glasgow, and I was at the wrong one!) for a week-long visit. After getting them settled at the house, we took them into the town of St. Andrews to show them the must-see sights (the castle, the cathedral, the Tesco…), then went back to the house for some pork pies and millionaires before sending them to bed early to adjust to Scotland time. On Sunday, they woke up at a reasonable time, and after Ted and I went for a quick run along the Lade Braes, we dressed in all the warm clothes we could and drove to Anstruther to catch the Isle of May Princess. The ferry leaves from the pier in Anstruther for about a six mile trip across the North Sea to the Isle of May. The boat sails with the tide in order

to ensure a smooth ride, but the tide was certainly not cooperating with us on Sunday. Ted had wisely taken a Dramamine before the boat departed, but the rest of us figured the ferry boat was large enough that we would be immune to seasickness. We were wrong! The boat rolled and pitched so much that after twenty minutes I was sure I was going to throw up at any moment and had to keep my mouth clamped shut lest anything should escape—answering questions with either “mmm” or “hhh” for the duration of the ride. I kept my eyes fixed on the island the whole time, just willing it to get closer so we could get off, and I swear it just kept getting further and further away. My mother, sister and even Emma were likewise green, though Ted was fine because of the pill and David was having a ball, since he’s immune to seasickness and was enjoying the silence from the four of us!

After an eternity, we arrived at the Isle of May, which is a National Nature Reserve known for being a home to an amazing number of birds each year. There were a fair number of grey seals peeking up at us out of the water as we docked, likely curious about why this boatful of tourists was a bit greener than usual. As we (gratefully) got off the boat, a Scottish Natural Heritage guide met us and told us about the types of birds were were going to see (eiderducks, pufins, terns, razorbills, guillemot, and shag), and instructed up about the importance of staying on the path since some of the birds nest just a few feet off to the side. The guide said the isle was

the most important site in the UK for bird research for two reasons: it was an island so didn’t have any predators, and it was close to a large source of fish just off-shore (also why the Anstruther Fish Bar back on the mainland is so popular!) The isle also had three lighthouses on it, including the oldest lighthouse in Scotland, and we began our tour at the visitor center (and the bathrooms!) so the kids could pick up brochures listing some of the sites where they could do rubbings. We walked to the southern end of the isle first to see a large colony of puffins and one of the lighthouses, and after the kids finished their rubbings there, we noticed two seals sunning themselves on a rock on the cliffs below us. Then we walked down by the pier to have a picnic lunch of French bread, cheese and Nutella, then continued on to the northern end of the island toward the Robert Stevenson lighthouse (the grandfather of the author, though Robert Louis

Stevenson apparently visited the island many times and took inspiration for Treasure Island. Along the way, we saw several eiderducks sitting on their nests, and the puffins and razorbills were all over the island. Though the island is uninhabited, save for a few researchers staying for weeks at a time and living off of soup packets, it’s quite noisy because of the cries of the terns, who had just arrived, along with the other tourists who had just arrived and were shouting, “Look, Nigel, another rabbit!” Most of our fellow visitors were equipped with very expensive cameras and were there to take photos…one man had a telephoto lens wrapped in camouflage duct-tape that was so large that John mistook it for a bazooka! We spent a few hours on the island, then headed back to the boat for the dreaded return trip. This time, we had all followed Ted’s lead and taken a Dramamine. So, though none of us were sick this time, we were all desperately trying to stay awake (my mother unsuccessfully so!) for the ride back to Anstruther.

David had yet another quiet, peaceful crossing, so when we return to the States and he says the Isle of May was the best thing he saw, you’ll know the real reason why! We returned to Anstruther, and joined the flock of people heading straight for the Anstruther Fish Bar for an early dinner of fried haddock and mushy peas, washed down with Irn Bru!

Disclaimer: The photos appearing in this post were taken at the Isle of May, under an agreement that I would approve them with my sister before posting. However, since she went to bed earlier than I did tonight, the agreement is henceforth null and void.