I’ve just got back from a trip around Scotland with Jane, my partner. We spent a week on Mull and then went cross country to Perthshire where we visited some great friends. Photography-wise there’s no doubt that the highlight was a boat trip from Fionnphort on Mull to the islands of Lunga and Staffa. Here’s how it happened.
I have an unfortunate tendency to arrive early or late for appointments by either an hour, a day, or even a month. Yes, the latter has happened! We were staying in the campervan most of the time but I had booked one night’s accomodation in a “pod” on Iona, just a short ferry ride from Fionnphort. Not unexpectedly I got my days mixed up and found that we had a free day on Mull before the Pod was available. Our neighbour on the campsite had booked a boat trip to Staffa and Lunga on our free day so on the spur of the moment I looked online to search for spare places. To my surprise there were, and I booked them right away. A few minutes later I checked the booking and noticed that it was for the wrong day – the day we were booked in on Iona. Cue mega-panic! Late night messages to the boat company followed, and they got back straight away with the news that they would re-arrange it for the correct day. Phew……
The forecast was great for the trip with unbroken sunshine and light winds. We cruised northwards among the Inner Hebrides in perfect conditions for an hour or so before arriving on Lunga. This island was an unknown quantity to me but a few minutes after landing puffins could easily be seen amongst their burrows on its grassy edge. I didn’t realise what was to come a little higher and further along the coast.
The path wound up through broken rock and grassy slopes dotted with bluebells and other spring flowers. Puffins seemed to be everywhere and were more approachable than they are on the Pembrokeshire islands. Some were quite oblivious to any human presence. Two visitors ahead of me seemed to be photographing a low rock-face but there was actually a pair of puffins pottering in and out of their nest in a crevice just behind it. I could easily have reached out and touched them. They are absolutely enchanting birds and I make no apologies for presenting a photograph of them in all their cuteness. Perhaps we love them so much because they remind us of ourselves? (See the main pic)
Reluctantly dragging myself away I soon came to the end of the main path close to an auk colony. While the huge majority of the birds were on the far side of a precipice that didn’t stop individuals landing this side of it close to me and the other human visitors. I’ve never been in close proximity to a shag before but one landed nearby and stayed, allowing me to photograph it at length. One young woman was sitting on a rock outcrop and a razorbill landed next to her as if she wasn’t there. It was astonishing! I reflected on how easy it would have been for the early sailors to plunder these seabird islands for food as they explored the oceans. And no wonder the great auk became extinct – it didn’t even have the advantage of flight.
Most of these bird portraits were taken with my 24 – 100 mm zoom lens, not the long zoom that is normally obligatory for bird photography. I did, however, swap lenses to capture one of two arctic skuas which were patrolling around just offshore in an attempt to make unwary seabirds disgorge their food.
We only had two hours on Lunga and before long it was time to return to the boat. I was exhilarated; it had been one of the best mornings of my life. By contrast, the island of Staffa, inspiration for Mendelsohn’s piece “Fingal’s Cave” and our second port of call, was rather a disappointment. The geology was extraordinary but time was very limited and visiting the cave was like being on a production line. Boat after boat was disgorging its passengers for half an hour and then leaving.
It was only through the series of mistakes I made that we actually got to Lunga at all. If I had had time to do some research I would probably have taken the shorter and cheaper trip to Staffa only. And if it hadn’t been for our neighbour at the campsite we might never been able to appreciate the wonders of this astonishing seabird colony. Serendipity indeed!
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Great pictures Jerry, I’m glad you made the mistakes you did 🙂
They do say “it was meant to happen…….”