46 SCOTTISH ISLANDS EXPLORERNOVEMBER / DECEMBER 2016
Inchcolm
Puffins Flying Shotgun
It passes the naval dockyard at Rosyth, under the
roar of traffic on the 1960s Forth Road Bridge,
under the swooping red arches of the 19th Century
rail bridge and on, as the estuary widens, towards
Inchcolm, with puffins flying shotgun alongside
the boat. Seals’ heads bob out of the water and stare
for a few moments, before deciding we’re neither
edible nor dangerous, and dive down below the
water again.
e boat drops visitors off at the small natural
harbour where the land lies just a few feet above sea
level, before rising up to the two higher ends of the
island to the east and the west. e irresistible first
move is to head for the path that leads along the
narrow isthmus of so, short grass flanked by
curving sandy beaches, and climbs gently up the
slope towards the abbey ruins.
Legend has it that a hermit who served St
Columba lived here in the 12th Century, living off
shellfish and the milk of one cow. In 1123, his
solitude was broken when Scotland’s King
Alexander I was driven onto the island by a great
storm as he crossed the Forth. e King, stranded
there for three days, must have been provided by the
hermit with either a profound spiritual revelation or
a terrific seafood chowder.The Flowing Sea
Either way - the King in gratitude decided to found
an Augustinian abbey there in honour of St
Columba. Nearly 900 years on, an inscription above
the entrance still reads: ‘Stet domus haec donec
fluctus formica marinos ebibat et totum testudo
perambulet orbem’ or ‘May this home stand until an
ant drains the flowing sea, and a tortoise walks
around the whole world’.
So no surprise it’s still in good condition, though
who knows what medieval Scottish monks thought
about tortoises. e covered cloisters bordering the
central green space are among the best-preserved in
Scotland, with three remaining. Several rooms have
survived intact, too, including the monks’ refectory
and dormitory. Most impressive is the octagonal
Chapter House, with its stone-ribbed domed
ceiling, where the Abbot and his monks would meet
for prayers and readings.
Climb the narrow, spiral staircase of the tower and
be startled by the view of how close Edinburgh
seems, just across the water. Today - and maybe in
the monks’ days too - the peace and isolation of
Inchcolm contrast with the noise and rush of a
major city, just a few miles away. Pick your way back
down that staircase to ground level and go outside
for another surprise.