30 Islands: Island #7 - Cramond Island

Cramond Island is situated in the Firth of Forth, due north of the village of Cramond, on the mainland. It is about 1/3^rd of a mile across and about 19 acres in area.

Like St.Mary’s island, it is accessible on foot at low tide, for a period of 2 hours either side of low water. I had first spied the mile long causeway to the island back in November 2012 when I had run the Edinburgh parkrun which starts on Silverknowes promenade, the western end of which is where the causeway starts. However on that crisp clear Saturday morning it was high tide, and it was the long row of equidistant triangles jutting above the waves that caught my attention, like the teeth of a crocodile ready to bite.

There must be quite a tidal range, for it was the mere tip of the iceberg I could see that day before me, at low tide the concrete teeth loom above you as you walk across the causeway, standing over 3m tall, ravaged by the Forth but still standing as a reminder of their original purpose to prevent enemy submarine entry during World War II.

The causeway itself starts out just a little lower than the promenade and in fairly reasonable, paved, condition. However after about 150m you are required to drop onto a rough battered stone foundation just above the sand level with little assistance other than a few roughly hewn steps into the end of the higher level, or the adjacent pillar.

The majority of the causeway can just about permit three abreast, and hasn’t been maintained well. Despite this, and being a sunny day, this is a popular walk, though footwear choice didn’t seem top of most peoples agenda, sandals and heels being some of the poorer choices.

The condition of the causeway and the mass visitors were a good indicator for the island as a whole – not much to write home about. Basically an unkempt patch of land with a few wartime ruins dotted about that potentially had interest but in reality were quickly passed by. Once on the island I walked up a sandy path to the top of a small hill, and took in the island’s best feature, the vast views afforded in all directions, over to Fife, up to the Forth bridges, and towards Edinburgh, with Arthur’s seat, and some of the Seven Hills I had earlier run up visible as a backdrop.

In comparison to those hills, this island was sadly a nothing, somewhere for Edinburgh folk to come and loiter it seems, by the endless glass shards from alcohol, burnt out patches of land marking barbeque bases, and graffiti on the crumbling brick and concrete relics. The remaining land was untidy, scrubland and overgrown for the most part, but while what could be read of the vandalised noticeboards promised some wildlife, at low tide it probably beats a hasty retreat until the island becomes empty once more.

In the middle of the island it was so overgrown you could not tell you were surrounded by sea/sand, and the whole place could have been anywhere left to nature’s own devices, land locked or sea bound. On one hand, this is no bad thing, the hand of humanity is slowly being washed away, apart from summer days when four hours of action take place. But it does suggest that an important part is played by man in shaping the atmosphere on an island, be that in what he builds, or in this case what he does – this was an island where quiet was needed, but today was the wrong day for that.

As I headed back to the mainland with less than an hour to spare people still walked outwards, perhaps the island is too tempting a target to ignore for those out for a Sunday stroll, but a quick google leads to many stories of lifeboat rescues for those trapped by the tide. Conversely, I could be wrong, but no effort seems to be going into the maintenance of the causeway so soon boat may be the way to go? The sands do remain to walk on, but they are crossed by a few channels of water, one thing is for sure, the giant teeth will point the way for many years to come…