SUNDAY, MAY 29 , 2022. THE WASHINGTON POST EZ EE F3
to move, and my perception shift-
ed to comprehend that I was
looking at tens of thousands of
dazzling white birds bonding,
mating, fighting, lifting off, land-
ing. The short journey was
scarcely enough to prepare for
the sting of the senses being
thoroughly slapped on arrival:
the relentless screeching, the
smell of ammonia, the rock heav-
ing with life.
It was overwhelming. It was
beautiful — if you find beauty in a
nature that is untamed rather
than neatly framed. It felt chaotic,
lawless and as though violence
could erupt at the slightest provo-
cation. I saw gannets fight over
territory so aggressively that
wings and beaks were stained
with blood. I watched one furi-
ously bully another off a cliff. My
ill-fated pathway crossing tinged
my sense of wonder with dread
whenever they came close. But I
also witnessed the affection of
pairs (gannets mate for life)
“fencing” as they were reunited.
“It’s like giving each other a hug,”
said Maggie, who encouraged me
to focus on individual birds, to
see what they were doing and
understand why. She told me to
watch for birds “skypointing”
with their bills, a signal that they
are about to head out to sea, so
their partner must remain on the
nest.
We know this detail thanks to
the late ornithologist Bryan Nel-
son, who, with his wife, spent
three years living in a shed among
the chapel ruins on the Bass. Itseems so obvious — of course they
need a signal to ensure that the
nest is not left unattended — but
it took Nelson many long hours of
thoughtful observation of the
gannets’ behavior to reach this
conclusion.
Was it important for me, just a
tourist, to understand this? I’m a
very amateur birdwatcher; I just
like them and enjoy the life-or-
death intensity of a seabird colo-
ny. But as I watched, focusing on
individual pairs and tuning out
the clamor, I had a sensation that
felt familiar but almost forgotten.
For a moment, the world was
small and comprehensible. I
watched a gannet point its beak
to the sky and knew what would
happen next. I had come to the
Bass seeking spectacle, but I was
already overwhelmed. My world
had been overwhelming for two
years. I needed what looked like
the predictability of theirs.
I watched birds skypoint, then
fly away, return and greet their
mates. By October, their chicks
will have fledged, and they’ll all
follow, back out to sea. But they’ll
return next spring, and the years
after that. I considered this con-
sistency, and it felt calming. I
continued to watch them until my
three hours in their world were
up, and I returned to the chaos of
my own.Gardiner is a writer based in
Baltimore. Her website is
karengardiner.com. Find her on
Twitter and Instagram:
@karendesuyo.If You Go
WHERE TO STAY
No. 12 Hotel and Bistro
12 Quality St., North Berwick
011-44-1620-892529
no12hotelandbistro.co.uk
A three-minute walk from the
harbor, this cozy boutique hotel
features recently refurbished
rooms, some of which have views
of Bass Rock. Breakfast is
included and served in the bistro,
while the beer garden is a great
spot for evening drinks. Rates
from about $87 per night.WHERE TO EAT
Drift
Quarrel Sands, North Berwick
011-44-1620-892817
driftalong.co.uk
Dramatically set on a cliff top and
housed in upcycled shipping
containers, this cafe offers
seasonal, produce-focused meals
and excellent views of Bass Rock.
Open daily for breakfast and lunch
July to September, 9:30 a.m. to 5
p.m.; other months until 4 p.m.
Herringbone
1-3 Westgate, North Berwick
011-44-1620-890501
theherringbone.co.uk
For dinner and cocktails, visit
Herringbone, where food and
drinks take inspiration from the
surroundings. Try the East Lothian
seafood chowder and NB sea dog
cocktail, made with gin.
Reservations recommended. Open
Wednesday to Sunday, noon to11 p.m.; Thursday until midnight;
and Friday and Saturday until
1 a.m. Entrees from about $15.WHAT TO DO
Scottish Seabird Center
The Harbour, North Berwick
011-44-1620-890202
seabird.org
Interactive exhibits include live
cameras that visitors can use to
zoom in on birds on the Firth of
Forth islands. The center also runs
boat trips around the Bass and to
the Isle of May, as well as Bass
Rock landing tours. Open daily
April through August, 10 a.m. to 6
p.m.; November through January
until 4 p.m.; and 5 p.m. February,
March, September and October.
Admission about $15 for ages 16
and older; ages 3 to 15 about $10;
younger than 3 free. Bass Rock
landing experience about $169
per person; ages 16 and older
only.
Coastal Communities Museum
School Road, North Berwick
011-44-1620-894313
coastalmuseum.org
This volunteer-run museum covers
North Berwick’s geological,
environmental, cultural and social
history. Exhibits shed light on the
Bass Rock, the Covenanters and
the 16th-century witch trials. Open
Wednesday through Saturday, 11
a.m. to 4 p.m. Free admission but
donations appreciated.INFORMATION
visitscotland.comFROM TOP: Bass Rock is a volcanic plug that dominates the North Berwick skyline; now
automated, Bass Rock Lighthouse was built in 1902 by David Stevenson, cousin of the author
Robert Louis Stevenson; gannets now occupy the ruins of the 15th-century St. Baldred’s Chapel.
The Scottish Seabird Center runs tours that allow landing from late April to early September.nets, and it was astonishing that
the birds tolerated, to a degree,
my presence.
“The Bass,” as it is known
locally, stands sheer in the Firth
of Forth about three miles off the
sea-scoured coast of North Ber-
wick, about 30 minutes by train
from Edinburgh. More than
150,000 northern gannets (large
seabirds with about six-foot
wingspans) nest on the island at
the peak of breeding season. The
few humans allowed to visit are
either wildlife researchers or
tourists on the only tour boat
with landing rights. But while
this lump of volcanic basalt car-
peted with birds feels entirely
inhospitable to people, it’s seen
more than its share of Scotland’s
complex human history.
The island’s first named occu-
pant is believed to be the Chris-
tian hermit Saint Baldred, who
died in his humble cell in 606; in
the 15th century, a chapel was
built on its site. Sometime after
1058, a castle was built, which, in
1406, sheltered the future James
I, son of Robert III, from his
enemies. By the 17th century, the
Bass had become a jail for reli-
gious and political prisoners, par-
ticularly the Scottish Presbyteri-
ans known as Covenanters and,
later, Jacobites, four of whom
managed to lock their jailers out
and hold the island from 1691 to
1694 in the name of the exiled
King James VII. Bought by Hew
Dalrymple in 1706, the Bass re-
mains in possession of his de-
scendants, who have surrendered
it to the birds’ protection.
Throughout much of the dra-
mas that have played out on the
Bass, the gannets have been
there, in varying numbers. The
birds had long been hunted for
their meat, eggs and oil, but it was
the Victorian-era shooting par-
ties that, for sport, decimated the
colony. Over the past century, as
wildlife protection laws have
compelled a shift from killing the
birds to observing them, the colo-
ny recovered, so much so that a
2014 census revealed it to be the
largest gannet colony in the
world.
North Berwick is an elegant
little seaside town that has long
served as a retreat from Edin-
burgh. Since 2000, visitors have
also been able to visit the Scottish
Seabird Center, where they can
control live cameras to zoom in
on gannets, as well as puffins,
guillemots and razorbills, on the
Bass and its neighboring islands
of Fidra, Craigleith and the Isle of
May. The center also runs popular
boat tours around Bass Rock, as
well as smaller and less-frequent
tours that allow landing from late
April to early September.
I had long been curious about
the trip but was stingy about the
cost (about $169). But, in the final
days of April, as I was idly looking
around the center’s website, I
noticed that every tour for the
next few months was fully booked
— except one, two days away. It
felt like a sign. I read through the
center’s disclaimers that, because
of weather, trips are often can-
celed with short notice and that
landing on the steep-sided Bass is
only for the agile and sure-footed.
The forecast looked promising,
and I consider myself fairly fit, so
I booked the last spot.
It was cold but clear and calm
when I met Maggie at the harbor
at 5:45 a.m. “You’re going to the
most amazing place,” she said,
raising excitement in even the
most bleary-eyed of our group. “It
really is overwhelming,” so much
so, she said, that she’d better give
us her talk right there before we
landed on the island and were too
overcome to pay attention. She
told us not to disturb or inadver-
tently threaten the birds, to just
sit quietly and observe. Looking
at everyone clutching their cam-
eras, she added: “Use your ears.
Listen.”
On the trip over to the Bass, the
skipper, Alan, told us that, last
year, only half of the scheduled
tours were able to land. I didn’t
want to count my luck until I’d set
foot on the island — the waves
that pummel its unyielding rock
reach so high that landing is often
impossible — but within minutes,
we were there.
From land, the Bass appears to
be frosted with white icing. But as
we approached, the white started
BASS ROCK FROM F1
Northern gannets keep the heart of the Bass beating
It wasoverwhelming.It was beautiful —if you find beautyin a nature that isuntamed ratherthan neatly framed.PHOTOS BY KAREN GARDINER FOR THE WASHINGTON POST