A stay on Rathlin Island- Robert Fullarton- Copyright 2015

A stay on Rathlin Island

By Robert Fullarton 

Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015

Across the the northern harbour of Ballycastle in Co.Antrim you will find the island of Rathlin.

The journey across on the car ferry takes in the ruggedness of many sea cliffs with the sight of the Mull of Kintyre -marking the geographic and also the ethnic  proximity between Northern Ireland and Scotland- this watery wilderness fills the lungs with sea air as the eyes feast upon a diversity of wonderful sea birds -including Gannets, Manx Shearwater, Guillemots, Little Auks and even the the sight of the odd Harrier or Buzzard cruising the coasts between Ireland and Scotland.

This island being the most northernly point on the island of Ireland happens to be a great place for wildlife watching. Upon my immediate arrival with my friend and his father I could see the colonies of Eider ducks and Harbour Seals that frequent and live upon the shoreline as our boat came in to dock. The locals are simple and humble folk, hospitable and traditional- very Irish and Celtic in my opinion, they seemed more interesting at times than the routine driven city dweller.

The island has its own unique species of hare -which has its own pigmentation- called the Golden Hare only to be found upon this island and it can be seen on rare occasions with the Brown Hare and the common Rabbit. Where there are rabbits, however you will find birds of prey in most cases and on this island I spotted Buzzards Galore swooping and gliding over the emerald hills of Rathlin, with Peregrine Falcons and Kestrels hovering through empty fields in search of some fast food.

I met a beautiful girl from Yorkshire, a student of English literature- an employee for the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds- and a avid lover of music and even Irish traditional music.
While she pointed out the Puffins to me and my friend, we talked about our mutual interests and passions. She stuck in my mind as one of the most wonderfully deep and beautiful people I had met in quite awhile. There was no hiding the fact to myself that I was very attracted to her and enamoured for the sort of air of mystery that surrounded her. She was a sort of breakaway hermit or what some might even call an environmental beatnik, spending most of the year in this windswept island fortress off the beaten track of both Ireland and Scotland, where she worked for the Society, and spent her time in both observation, study and habitation with a bunch of English ecologists. She played tin whistle in the pub..but I unfortunately never occasioned this happening and never laid eyes upon her again...she is like so much in life.. an obscurity that disappeared along with the jagged cliffs off the horizon into the mists of time.

I walked amid the bracken and the wild flowers of this Irish wilderness -and I felt immediately that Rathlin was something akin to the west of Ireland. Community spirit is forged in a landscape of cottages, stone ruins of past generations..history that spoke of legends and wars...from Robert the Bruce's flight and refuge in the caves bellow to the massacres carried out and conducted by Sir Francis Drake against the McDonnell clan on the hills above.

There were four of us..two by two..staying in different lodgings. Me and a friend shared a simple hostel, that was quaintly filled with bird books and pamphlets on the natural flora and fauna of Northern Ireland..one in fact was on the natural history of Rathlin. Our hostess a Mrs McCurdy was a member of one of the oldest families on Rathlin island a fact you will notice in the little Anglican Church of St.Thomas where many gravestones attest to the name and history of the McCurdy family. Tradition, simple living, a slow paced almost deadening pulse lives on in a land that comes to life in summer time and practically hibernates through the long Irish winter. Tourism is vital for the survival of the Rathlin community, the revenue keeps the stock and trade of the people alive.

We talked with a German couple, who were touring the Antrim coast, communing with them in the little living room of the cottage where we eat and chat, discussed plans and leisurely read to our hearts content.

On our final evening on the island we went for dinner at a local B&B where my friend's father was staying. We crossed various fields marvelling at the wild animals that scuttled and soared both beside and above our heads and then we began our ascent to the B&B -at the far end of the island- where we could gaze down on everything below us, including the harbour entrance to Rathlin. We spoke to our hostess about the changing times, about the changes in weather -how cold it was for May- and how even former visitors to this region -such as the Cuckoo- were becoming less and less common as the climate became harsher, as the winds increased and the temperatures dropped on average, the ecology changed over time. Man has been responsible on Rathlin for the extinction of the Corncrake, through loss of habitat and changes in agricultural practice...something which has become common process throughout most of the British isles.

My major grievance or reason to moan on that holiday, was that bad weather,  blighted much of our time and travel to and fro...but it did not engulf our sense of adventure nor dampen our spirits. Good rain gear, waterproofs and overalls are needed wherever one goes in Ireland-or indeed Scotland- come summer or winter. Good conversations...human kindness and community spirit can warm the coldest torso and fill the mind with repositories of confidence and assurance.