Gunfire, a lost Queen and a wreck in Kirkcudbright Bay.

As we made our way back to the beach at the north of Little Ross Island we could hear the sounds of guns of various calibres coming across the water. They were being fired at Dundrennan Firing Range (or Kirkcudbright Training Centre as it is now called). I had called the Range Officer on 07786 126151 (manned 24 hrs) prior to our departure so I knew the range would be closed and it would not be possible to continue east round the coast. The Range Safety boat, the Gallovidian III, was already moored off the north point of the island. From previous experience I knew that her skipper Gary McKie would up anchor and motor close inshore as soon as he saw us. So Ian called him up on Channel 16 to let him know our intended route, which was well away from the range.

After a cheery wave from the Gallovidian III we set off against a stiff wind up the west side of Kirkcudbright Bay.

Little Ross slipped astern as the flood spring tide assisted us against the wind.

Once clear of the range, we crossed the bay to the wooded shores of St Mary's Isle. An Augustinian priory was established here in the 12th century. Mary Queen of Scots stayed at the priory in 1563 while enroute to Dumfries from Kenmuir Castle near New Galloway. Legend has it that her party was benighted as they approached Kirkcudbright. Her escort was disinclined to risk her safety in the town's inns so they made their way here. In 1568 Mary came this way again after her defeat at the Battle of Langside near Glasgow. She spent her last night in Scotland at nearby Dundrennan Abbey before fleeing to England by boat from Port Mary and capture by Elizabeth I of England.

The lee of St Mary's Isle was a great place to catch our breath.

Further up Kirkcudbright Bay near Gibbhill Point we came across the wreck of this old wooden trawler. It had seen better days.

Little Ross lighthouse, a lens and an alpine garden.

As we left Little Ross Island cottages and climbed towards the lighthouse we saw we were in line with the leading mark for vessels leaving Kirkcudbright Bay. Surprisingly this was not illuminated until 2005. The increasing number of scallop dredgers leaving Kirkcudbright at night was the reason. The white tower just visible on the mainland is a range control tower for the Dundrennan Firing Range.

Little Ross lighthouse was first lit on 1/1/1843. The light flashes white every five seconds. It was the first lighthouse in the world to have a catadioptric design, which meant that the beam was focussed with both lenses and mirrors. At the time the famous physicist Lord Kelvin ranked it (along with the lighthouses at Rhinns of Islay and Buchan Ness) as one of the top three lighthouses in the World.

In 2004 the original lens was helicoptered to Kirkcudbright Museum but it was so heavy that it was only this year that it has been displayed properly.

The arch over the doorway proclaims that Little Ross lighthouse was built...

...in 1842 by Robert Stevenson and Robert Hume.

This nice bronze identifier is more recent!

The lighthouse shares a courtyard with the keepers' cottages. There were normally three keepers but...

...at the time of the murder in 1960 there were just two temporary keepers because the light was about to be automated.

The present owners have fitted this door bell but no one was at home.

We rested for a short time in the lee of the buildings. The early morning sun was warm out of the chill wind. At our feet...

...the cobbled courtyard was a veritable garden of miniature alpine plants and lichens.

The owners of the cottages have a lovely kitchen.

From the lighthouse we had a clear view SW across Wigtown Bay to Burrow Head some 22km away and the village of Isle of Whithorn to its right.

We were going north however and in The Sound we could already see the start of the flood tide. It was time to go...

A rusty cock, mysterious symbols, dead heads, a high and dry ship and a shaded sundial on Little Ross Island.

On our way up to the lighthouse we passed Little Ross cottages. At one time the lighthouse keepers' families lived on the island and helped support themselves by farming.

The weather cock had rusted solid as there was a strong north wind blowing.

The row of cottages was built on a steep slope so although the walls were vertical, their tops sloped downhill.

The first cottage was used as a smithy.

The sandstone blocks to the side of the fireplace had symbols carved into them.

I have no idea what they mean.

We proceeded down the sloping "street" to the bottom house where the gate was...

...secured by this beautiful brass latch inscribed NL which I think might be short for Northern Lighthouses.

Once through the gate we entered the former vegetable garden which the island's current owners now keep as a mixed garden. These thistles were just past flowering but...

...their seed heads were very decorative,

The lighthouse towers above the walls which shelter the allotment.

The owners have built a summerhouse on a boat shaped deck. Ian enjoyed a moment on the bow but this boat wasn't going to hit any icebergs.

It truly is a beautiful spot and the ship summer house has...

...a lovely view. On leaving we were careful to secure the door against any coming storms.

This old sundial was more decorative than functional as it was still in deep shade. Maybe its owner was a late riser?

A shadow at dawn on Little Ross Island.

 We rose before dawn on Little Ross Island. We had camped on the path between the...

 ...crumbling slipway on the west and the...

 ...crumbled east quay, which lies beyond the far tent. The stone store was built for the supplies landed for the lighthouse.

 We wasted no time in getting the kayaks loaded and...

 ...preparing breakfast which we ate as the...

 ...sun broke the horizon. We knew we would have a long hard day and would be lucky to arrive at our next camp by sunset but first we wanted to...

...explore Little Ross Island in daylight. As we set off ,the shadow of the lighthouse was cast upon the sunlit slopes of the Ree of Ross on the far side of The Sound. Maybe this his where Mr Brown of Knockbrex got the idea for his pillars?

No ghosts on Little Ross Island, despite its tragic past.

By the time we set up camp on Little Ross Island, the sun was already setting across the broad expanse of Wigton Bay.

 We walked up to the lighthouse  as the last rays of the sun reflected on...

 ...the windows of the lighthouse keepers' cottages. It was behind...

 ...this window that the dark events of Little Ross Island's past were played out in 1960. The lighthouse keeper was shot in the head by the assistant lighthouse keeper who was later arrested in Yorkshire. He was found guilty at his trial in Kirkcudbright. There is a moving account of the tragedy by local man David Collin who found the body with his father.

As we pondered the past tragedy at Little Ross lighthouse the day slipped away and

...as we walked back down to our camp in the gathering darkness it was hard to believe that such a sad event had taken place in this beautiful spot. Several sea kayaking friends refuse to camp here. You might wonder if we were concerned about camping in such a place but there was no sense of malevolence, only a feeling of peace. We could think of no reason why any spirit of a murdered lighthouse keeper could hold any ill will towards mariners like ourselves.

 As the last embers of the day faded behind a pile of old lobster creels, we gathered what scant driftwood was to be found. We would need a fire as a chilling F4/5 northerly wind got up as...

...night fell. Fortunately we had brought a good supply of logs in dry bags on our rear decks and soon enjoyed the warmth of a blazing fire, (Carrying the logs meant we had left our trolleys behind. This omission would warm us further the following evening...) We spent several hours enjoying great chat while we ate baked sweet potatoes washed down by an isotonic drink (which is good for you) and is made by an Irish company.

I was woken in the middle of the night. The flood tide in the Sound was running against the north wind and it sounded as if the waves of the tide race were lapping the tent. Although we had carried them well up the beach, I was worried about the boats so I got up and used my tow line to tie them together and secure them to a rock. Suddenly a dreadful noise, like a pair of cats being strangled, reverberated round the island. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up but it was no ghost, just a pair of squabbling herons.

Read more  about the sunset at Little Ross Island on Ian's blog here.