I Miss the Puffins, too

In a normal year several thousand tourists make day-trips from Oban and Mull to see the puffin colony on Lunga. When those trips are operating there can be close to a hundred people on the island, all wanting to get close to the colorful birds. It is exhilarating to sit next to the burrows and watch as the Puffins go about their business; and busy birds they are, continually flying in with beakfuls of eels to feed their young. Those not busy feeding spend their time bickering, kissing, and growling at each other. (The birds, not the tourists. Although I have seen a few growling tourists over the years). The puffins are used to visitors, but I am sure they are happy to be left alone this year.

The best way to avoid the crowds is on a small boat cruise, where they'll set you ashore before the day-boats arrive. The following video was taken in 2008, when I was on the sailing yacht Zuza. Including myself, there was a grand total of four passengers on the cruise. (It doesn't get much better than that.) This allowed us all to spend some quality time with the puffins. The video gives some sense of what that's like. (You can see Zuza in the background of the first scene).

The Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge - Season 3, Episode 9

The Continuing Adventures of Hjalmar Bjorge

Season 3 - Episode 9 - Lunga and Iona

Exploring the Isles of the West Cruise    June 2-11, 2018

Saturday, June 9 – Islands 14 & 15 - Lunga and Iona

Saturday saw us get an early start to Lunga - the idea being to beat the day-boats that bring hundreds of tourists to see the puffins. We were ashore by 10am, and had the island all to ourselves for a couple of hours. All visits to Lunga start with an amazing stroll along the cliff tops to see the puffins coming and going from their burrows. 

Just as amazing were the thousands of guillemots roosting at the base of Dun Cruit (Harp Rock).

I must say that the puffin population on Lunga seems to be a shadow of its former self. I have been there eight times over the last 30 years, ranging from early May to mid August, and the number of puffins I saw on June 9 was about 10% of the number I’d seen in the past. The next three photos are from a visit in 2008.

Aside from seeing the bright puffins and noisy guillemots on Harp Rock, there is a secret place on Lunga I always like to visit. Most visitors are not interested in seeing it, as it's dark, dank and cold. It is a tunnel-cave described by Fraser Darling in his book Island Years (1940), and by L.R.Higgins in his classic A Tangle of Islands (1971). The cave is 200 feet long, its entrance lies hidden at the bottom of a pit in the south plateau of Lunga, and its far end opens out onto the western cliffs of the island. Liz was interested in seeing it, and so the two of us left the puffins to go spelunking. 

From the rim of the pit we slid down its steep bank into a sea of ferns. The cave mouth is hidden below the dark spot in the centre of next photo.

Into the pit

After wading through the ferns we came to the small mouth. It was now time to crawl for about ten feet across wet stones, then waddle for another 20 feet to a point where we could stand up.

After going 200 feet we reached the seaward end of the cave, where a short scramble up some boulders took us out onto the face of the western cliffs.

After retracing our steps through the cave, and climbing back up the wall of the pit, we returned to puffin city. As we did we noticed a boat full of people motoring towards the shore. The timing of our visit to Lunga had been perfect; what we were seeing was the first of the day-boats. They started landing folks just as we were making our way down to the shore, and I felt like a salmon swimming upstream as I passed about 50 day-trippers slowly making their way - some in flip flops - up the rocky beach.

Leaving Lunga behind, we sailed east to take a look (from the sea) into Fingal’s Cave on Staffa. About halfway there we came upon a basking shark zig-zagging through the water.

The interior of Fingal's Cave is currently closed to visitors because the walkway into it has collapsed (see this article). So this was one of few times I'd seen the cave from the sea when it was not full of tourists.

From Staffa it was a short motor over to Iona, where the anchor was dropped in Port nam Mairtear, Martyrs' Bay, where 68 monk's were killed in the year 806. It is easy to know that it's Martyrs' Bay because of the well signed Martyrs' Bay Restaurant and Pub which sits above the bay.

Once ashore a visit to the nunnery was followed by a climb to the top of the island, the hill of Dun-I. (Pronounced Dune - ē, not, as some tourists call it, Done One.) Iona was as crowded as usual, and it seemed strange being among so many people after a week of deserted islands.

On the way to the hill we passed the abbey. In days of yore it was free to go inside, these days it'll cost you £7.50. 

In days of not-so-yore (like 4 years ago), it was easy to get in the grounds through an unlocked side gate to take a close look at St Martin's Cross and climb onto Tor Ab, where it is thought Columba had his cell. I was disheartened to see that even this side gate is now securely locked.

St Martin's Cross

A half-mile north of the abbey we reached the path that climbs to the top of Dun-I. Even though it is only about 300 feet high, it is well worth climbing for the views. But this time of year you will not find solitude here, as people are continually coming and going.

The busy summit of Dun-I

There being so many people on the top of the hill was posing a problem, as I’d been planning for several months to do something up here that required a bit of privacy. Nestled in my pack was some precious cargo, a small container I’d carried throughout our trip. It had been on 15 islands so far, but Iona would be the last one. 

The problem was solved when, from the summit, I noticed a little knoll that no one was on. As I watched for several minutes I could see that none of the tourists seemed to be going over there. And so I made my way to this little knoll west of the summit. It was the perfect spot for what I wanted to do; a spot that looked out over the abbey to the east, and the sea to the west. I crouched down, slowly opened the container, and gently sprinkled its contents over the grass. My mother had passed five months ago. She loved Iona, and now is forever part of it.

After our climb everyone spread out to wander on their own. Some visited the abbey, others the shops. A few made the hike over to the west side of the island to the beach of Camus Cùil an T-Saimh.

As I have found out the hard way, translating Gaelic place names is a mine-field for the amateur. The name of the bay on the current OS map is Camus Cùil an T-Saimh, which may mean 'bay of the ocean-nook.' Other maps name it Camus Cul an Taibh, possibly 'bay with its back to the sea.' Regardless of what its name means, it is a beautiful spot, a half-mile of white sands nestled between the Spouting Cave and the 2000 year-old fort of Dun Bhuirg.

After a visit to the Martyr's Bay Pub to hydrate we headed back to Hjalmar Bjorge. The anchor was raised, and we left the crowds behind to motor south past Erraid into Ardlanish Bay off the Ross of Mull. As the sun set that evening it began to sink in just how fast the week had passed, and that in two days we'd be back in Oban. We'd set foot on 15 islands, and there was still one to go. For in the morning, with eagles soaring high overhead, we'd motor below some of the most impressive cliffs in the Hebrides, see a 15th century castle, and trek to a 5000 year-old stone circle.

Back to Lunga

One of the possible destinations on our upcoming cruise is Lunga of the Treshnish Isles. Lunga is famous for its large puffin colony, and the birds are so used to visitors that they let you sit just feet from their burrows as they go about their business. They are so entrancing that many visitors spend their whole time on the island sitting, and smiling, as they watch the puffins go about their business - and they are very busy birds, indeed.

There are other things to see on Lunga: the village ruins, Fraser Darling's Cave, and the view from atop the island. But the puffins, and the myriad other seabirds that roost near Harp Rock, are sights that you'll never forget. 

Here are a few puffin photos from Lunga.

Cave View - 6

Here's a view looking out Fraser Darling's Cave on Lunga. That's my name for it, as it is not marked on the OS map. I first read about it in Donald MacCulloch's The Wondrous Isle of Staffa. My second literary encounter with it was in LR Higgins' A Tangle of Islands, where it is described as "dark, mysterious, little known and unsuspected". Then I came across it again in Fraser Darling's Island Years, where he would use the cave as a shortcut to the shore.

All these mentions made me want to see it in person. It's not too difficult to get to, just a short, but steep slide down to the cave entrance, which is in a hole in the centre of the southern half of Lunga (second photo). From there the cave leads to the western shore of the island. The hard part about visiting the cave is that it takes you away from the puffins, which draw tourists in the hundreds to Lunga every year.

Next time we hop to South Rona to see the view from Church Cave.

Lunga Village

I first visited the islands of Scotland in 1989. Mull was the first, followed by Iona on the following day. My wife and I had brought my parents along, and my father became very sick. The entire time we were on Iona he was sick in bed at the Argyll Hotel. He loves cats, and so Fingal, the hotel cat. was a great comfort to him while he recuperated. My wife and I did manage to see some of the sites, and were able to get out on one of the Turas Mara trips to Staffa and Lunga. This photo of my wife Shawna shows her finding some shade in Lunga village, last occupied in 1857.

King Puffin VIII

One more puffin photo from Lunga. After watching them for an hour I was able to pick out the king - the alpha puffin, the leader of the pack. Here you can see him squatting on his throne looking like Henry VIII: jowly, in need of a shave, and a tad overweight, as the lesser puffins bow down, awaiting his royal commands.

Lovers' Spat

I have a weak spot for puffins. But then, who doesn't. This quarrelsome couple was having an intense discussion on Lunga. I don't know what they were arguing about, but a minute later they kissed and made up.