Nestled away from the distractions of modern life, Rum, a Hebridean island, has recently earned the prestigious title of International Dark Sky Sanctuary, becoming the second site in Europe to receive this recognition. With its minimal light pollution, Rum is now heralded as one of the prime locations for stargazing in the world.
As I stepped out of the Guirdil bothy at 2 AM, the deep roar of a stag resonated in the air, accompanied by the soothing sound of the waves on the beach. It was the peak of the rutting season on Rum, where the red deer population far exceeds that of the locals. In the dim light, I spotted the skull of an old minke whale resting among the pebbles, with the towering shadow of Bloodstone Hill providing a natural barrier from the wind, isolating this tranquil bay from the outside world.
The quietude here is enchanting. Just 40 people inhabit Rum year-round, and the island is largely a nature reserve, with 97% of its land protected. This isolation means that light pollution is virtually nonexistent; there are no streetlights, and driving is restricted. My journey to Guirdil involved navigating through picturesque valleys and muddy bogs on foot.
Despite the challenges of island living—such as the long journey to the nearest doctor or pub—the community thrives. The local general store offers a well-stocked supply of essentials, and fresh produce is a prized commodity, especially when ferry schedules are delayed. Children often gaze at shooting stars on their way home from spirited ceilidhs, while adults enjoy the occasional glimpse of the aurora over the water.
Fliss Fraser, who has called Rum home for 25 years and runs the Ivy Cottage guesthouse, shared, “On a clear night, watching the Milky Way is almost effortless. The sky is part of our heritage here, and we’re committed to preserving it.” Her sentiments echo the community’s dedication; Kinloch has implemented a light management plan to enhance stargazing opportunities.
Rum is not just about its spectacular night skies. Its volcanic mountain ridgeline, featuring peaks like Askival and Ainshval, offers a rich tapestry of history and breathtaking scenery. Unfortunately, Rum also has a troubled past. Its population once peaked at 443 before the Highland Clearances led to mass displacement in the 18th and 19th centuries. The island was dubbed the “Forbidden Isle” by the Bullough family, who purchased it for deer hunting and restricted access. Today, it enjoys renewed life as a nature reserve, with the local community thriving under its own governance.
Though clouds threatened my stargazing plans, occasional breaks allowed the stars to shine through. Steven Gray, the president of the British Association of Planetaria, poignantly remarked about the lost connection to the heavens that past generations once shared. As I observed the stags vying for dominance at dawn, I reflected on how life here, while challenging, is profoundly beautiful.
As I prepared to leave, I had the chance to stay at the Rum Bunkhouse, considered one of Scotland’s finest for its stunning views over the local wildlife. The staff reminded guests to conserve energy as it was fledgling season for the rare Manx shearwaters—an important species protected on the island.
During my stargazing adventures, I explored the night sky using a sky map app, trying to locate constellations like Pegasus and Cassiopeia. I missed spotting the Tsuchinshan-Atlas comet, which had appeared for the first time in 80,000 years, but that did not dampen my spirits.
As my ferry departed Rum under the blanket of darkness, I was rewarded with a dazzling display of satellites and planets. The shimmering cosmos tugged at my heartstrings, leaving me with a deep longing for the enchanting sights of Guirdil bay and its mesmerizing night skies.
