Seabirds, Stones and Shipwrecks
by Rowena M Love
“Their cry was like the cry of an alarmed nation. Up they went, millions upon millions, ascending like the smoke of a furnace,” said N. P. Rogers, an American visitor in the 1880s. He was referring to the way seabirds took flight from Ailsa Craig, when the excursion steamer fired a gun.
While visiting vessels are somewhat quieter these days, the island is still known for its teeming bird life with species like kittiwakes, guillemots, razorbills and puffins salting the air with their calls. By far the most common, though, is the Northern Gannet. As of the latest count in 1999, there were over 35,825 solan geese nesting sites, making Ailsa Craig the fourth largest gannetry in the world. Numbers have been increasing in all the gannetries, so this number may well be higher now.
The biggest northern gannetry in the world is St. Kilda and there is a further link between there and Ailsa Craig: sheep. When St. Kilda was evacuated in late August 1930, 20 Soay sheep were taken from there and released on Ailsa. Although their numbers were always controlled, they did have an effect on the plant life – they had to graze on something, after all. By 1961, however, the sheep had been removed and the scientists since then have noted an increase in the species on Ailsa Craig.
The spelling of the island has varied, with old maps labelling it Elsay, Ellsey, Aillsay, Ailze, and Ailzalle. The name’s meaning is equally confused: “Isle of Wings” or “Isle of Cliffs” are only two suggestions, while the ‘Carrick Gallovidian’ (McDowall, 1947) proposes several more, including “the rock pinnacle of majestic beauty rising from the sea”, and “the gigantic rock-mound of the storm-swept sea”.
If the multiple names and meanings weren’t enough, there are a number of nicknames, too. It’s often referred to as “Paddy’s Milestone”, for instance, as the island lies half way between the Broomielaw in Glasgow and Belfast. Seamen on that run traditionally changed watch at Ailsa Craig, rather than going by the clock. “Brian’s Stone” is another, given that the island is said to have been in the dominion of the Irish King Brian Boroimhe (Boru) who ruled Ireland around 1000.
Long thought to be the core of an extinct volcano (although there is now debate as to whether that is the case), Ailsa Craig lies ten miles off the Ayrshire coast, so it’s not surprising that early travellers had difficulty establishing its exact dimensions: it is 1,114 feet high, while its elliptical base measures 3,900 feet by 2,600 feet, and is over two miles in circumference.
Technically, Ailsa Craig lies in the Parish of Dailly - somewhat unexpected, considering that Dailly Parish is completely landlocked. This is a legacy from the time when Ailsa belonged to the Barony of Knockgerran.
The Earls of Cassillis have owned Ailsa Craig for centuries, ownership that is reflected in their other title, Marquess of Ailsa. The island was usually let to a tenant, with rent varying over the years from 100 merks in 1722 to £30 in 1836. In addition to this rent, the tenant had to send to Culzean “six trial geese (young gannets) and two dozen at the general taking” and “as many Ailsa cocks (guillemots) and Kittiwakes as his lordship requires as well as what eggs in season are wanted.”
In 1895, rent was still at £30 per annum but this sum was to be raised “partly by the sale of rabbits, but chiefly by the export of curling stones.”
Curling stones have made Ailsa Craig famous the world over. The fine-grained granite (Ailsite) could be highly polished, making it perfect for curling stones. Of the three kinds available (Common Ailsa, Blue Hone and Red Hone), the Blue was the most prized.
However, it was not until the quarries were leased to Andrew Girvan in the 1880s that production increased dramatically. He and his family would dress the stone into cylindrical blocks 14” in diameter and weighing between 80 - 100 lbs. The stone blocks would then be shipped to the mainland for polishing. Annual output was between 1,000 and 1,400 stones; compare this to the 200 mentioned in accounts for 1829. The Girvans continued to lease the quarries until 1952, employing up to 30 men. Stone setts and kerbstones were also produced and line roads in Glasgow yet.
Some curling stones are still being made of Ailsa granite, although blasting and quarrying is no longer allowed. Mauchline-based firm Kays of Scotland have exclusive rights to the granite, removing large boulders from the former quarries, which they can use to produce the competition-quality stones that are so much in demand. Rhona Martin, skip of the gold-winning British Olympic curling team has been a visitor to the Ailsa Craig courtesy of Kays.
More than a hundred years before, another group of visitors disembarked: lighthouse contractors. In 1883 five acres of the island was sold to the Northern Lighthouse Commissioners for the sum of £14,000, so they could build a lighthouse, signal station and foghorn there. Designed and constructed by Thomas and David Stevenson, the lighthouse became operational three years later, on June 15th 1886. The compressed air foghorns, designed by Charles Ingrey, were the first installed in Scotland.
The building of the lighthouse was not without incident, though, as the contractor, Hill and Sons, got into a pay dispute with the Board. Independent surveyors Johnstone and Gibson had to be sent to re-measure the works and a neutral party relied upon to arbitrate the claim.
The light and foghorns were powered by gas, manufactured on the island by the lighthouse keepers, using a process whereby mineral oil was heated in retorts. Two gasometers were used to store the gas until it was used.
Alexander Thomson, one of the original keepers, had previously been trained as a plumber. Given the miles of pipes that had to be maintained, that may be the reason why Thomson stayed at the same lighthouse for 35 years. He even married on Ailsa Craig. His marriage to the daughter of his first Principal light keeper, by the Rev. Turnbull of Dailly, was the first ever to be performed on the island. The lighthouse has since been automated and has been unmanned since 1990.
Stuck as it is in the middle of a major shipping route, it’s not surprising that there have been shipwrecks, despite the Stevensons’ lighthouse. Some, like the crew of the Halcyon Fortune in the early 50s looked on it as an extra benefit – they left the Tail o’ the Bank in the morning and were back home by teatime with a month’s survivors’ leave to their credit. Or, joked a deckhand, Hughie, back “just in time to catch the wife in bed with the lodger.”
A disastrous shipwreck for Ailsa Craig was that of the “Austria” in 1884. The £35,000 vessel had only been launched that year, but within a matter of hours, her value would be reduced to less than a tenth of that sum. She sailed from Fiume in the Adriatic, reaching the Ailsa Craig on 15th October; she would go no further. Between the dodgy course set by Captain Helig (who retired below to keep company with a bottle) and the smoke from the funnel impairing the vision of Second Mate James Morris, who had been left in charge, catastrophe was only a matter of time. Just after midnight, they ran aground on ‘the Craig’. The Austria had 1800 tons of general cargo on board, much of it flour and rapeseed, so as well as the 21-man crew and a stowaway, the ship had other, less welcome, passengers. Rats abandoning the sinking ship was not a cliché, but sad reality for the bird life on Ailsa Craig. By the time some of the cargo was salvaged for £863, remaining cargo and fittings for £1491 and the wreck itself a measly £191, the brown rats that swam ashore had already started their predations.
Other sources cite an 1889 vessel that was delivering coal for the gas conversion process of the lighthouse as the more likely culprit. This wasn’t a shipwreck, but a regular delivery service. Who knows, perhaps it brought more than coal. Certainly, the first rat formally mentioned in connection with Ailsa Craig was one killed on the jetty by a lighthouse keeper’s dog in 1889, so there’s a good chance that this was the main cause of the rat problems.
But many ships have foundered on Ailsa’s shores – you could just as easily blame the Barbalta of Greenock; the Ariel and Nith, both of Adrossan; Irish ships the Cynthia (Dublin) and the James (Dundalk) or Glasgow vessels such as the Duke of Edinburgh or the Clan Campbell for rats swimming ashore. Certainly their furry passengers would have added to Ailsa’s worries.
Regardless of which story you believe, there is no doubt that rodents decimated the bird population, particularly the puffins, which lay eggs in burrows. In 1860, one ornithologist estimated the puffin population at a quarter of a million pairs; he said they caused “a bewildering darkness” in the sky when he disturbed them.
Lighthouse keepers would periodically entertain themselves by organising a Grand Rat Hunt. By December 1889 records show that 48 rats had been killed; the following November one of the dogs killed 59 in a single day and the total for that quarter came to 900 dead rats. Come 1934 there were no more puffins breeding on the island.
There have been other, more concerted, attempts to exterminate the rats: Glasgow Branch of the RSPB put down Ratolin costing £160 in 1924 and 1925, for instance. The latest attempt was by Glasgow University’s Bernard Zonfrillo. His team put down 5 1/2 tonnes of Warfarin over 1991/92; by 2002 it was declared a success as breeding puffins had been seen.
Ailsa Craig, “towering above the sea and little ships” is a sight to behold. With its teeming birdlife, geological features and history, it is as fascinating to the Ayrshire visitor of today as it has ever been.
Published in Scottish Islands Explorer in Sep-Oct 05 issue