Burnt Islands

The Burnt Islands is the collective title for three small islands that lie in the Kyles of Bute off the west coast of the Scottish mainland. The islands are located at grid reference NS017752.

Individually the Islands are known by their Gaelic names. From the largest to the smallest they are Eilean Mòr (Large Island), Eilean Fraoich (Heather Island) and Eilean Buidhe (Yellow Island). Oddly only the smallest of these tiny islets, Eilean Buidhe, shows any sign of ever having been permanently inhabited having the remains of a vitrified fort on it. Eilean Mòr, huge in comparison supports only a little stunted woodland at its northern end.

All water going traffic that travels through the kyles has to negotiate either the narrow sound that separates Eilean Buidhe from Eilean Mòr and Eilean Fraoich or pass south of the islands, via the Wood Farm buoy. The narrows, which are the principal route for commercial traffic, are marked by four light buoys, two on each side .

A little to the west Eilean Dubh (Black Island) lies at the entrance to Loch Riddon and to the north Eilean Dearg lies within the loch.

Islands of the Clyde
  • Ailsa Craig/Creag Ealasaid
  • Arran/Eilean Arainn
  • Burnt Islands
  • Bute/Eilean Bhòid
  • Castle Island/Eilean a' Chaisteil
  • Davaar/Eilean Dà Bhàrr
  • Eilean Dearg
  • Eilean Dubh
  • The Eileans
  • Glunimore
  • Holy Isle/Eilean MoLaise
  • Horse Isle/Eilean nam Eich
  • Inchmarnock/Innis Mheàrnaig
  • Lady Isle/Eilean Mhoire
  • Pladda/Pladaigh
  • Sanda/Sandaigh
  • Sgat Mòr and Sgat Beag
  • Sheep Island
  • Great Cumbrae/Cumaradh Mòr
  • Little Cumbrae/Cumaradh Beag

Coordinates: 55°55′44″N 5°10′33″W / 55.92886°N 5.17578°W / 55.92886; -5.17578

Famous quotes containing the words burnt and/or islands:

    Time drops in decay,
    Like a candle burnt out,
    And the mountains and woods
    Have their day, have their day....
    William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)

    Consider the islands bearing the names of all the saints, bristling with forts like chestnut-burs, or Echinidæ, yet the police will not let a couple of Irishmen have a private sparring- match on one of them, as it is a government monopoly; all the great seaports are in a boxing attitude, and you must sail prudently between two tiers of stony knuckles before you come to feel the warmth of their breasts.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)