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A Photographic Expedition to the Bull Rock Lighthouse
In mid-May 2010, I paid a visit to the Bull Rock lighthouse, which lies off the coast of Cork at the tip of the Beara peninsula. The Bull is a relatively rounded three-hundred foot high pinnacle of rock. It and its near neighbours, the Cow and the Calf, form a trio a short distance from Dursey Island.
In 1866, a light was established on the Calf Rock, but in 1881 the cast-iron tower was snapped off above the base in a violent storm. It was the destruction of this tower that led to the replacement of the existing cast-iron Fastnet light with the present-day granite structure.
After the destruction of the Calf, a replacement lighthouse was constructed on the Bull. Construction was completed and the light established in 1889. The complete story is fascinating and can be found on the Commissioners of Irish Lights website.
The Bull Rock, Cork, Ireland
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24-70mm f/2.8 @ 70mm
f/4, 1/800 @ ISO 100
Getting there
On the arranged day, I presented myself at the Irish Lights depot in Castletownbere at 8am with five days’ worth of food (we were scheduled to stay for just two nights, but you need contingency rations in case the weather turns bad and you can’t be taken off). It was a busy day at the depot as there was work going on at all of the southwestern rock stations – the Bull, Fastnet, Skelligs, Inishtearaght, and Roancarraig. Lots of tradesmen preparing for work ranging from routine maintenance to major overhauls of engine equipment to construction cleanup.
I stayed out of the way as much as possible. The helicopter arrived at around 9am, and the day’s running order was figured out. You never know which stations are going to be visited first – weather conditions can play havoc with any schedule, so everyone has to show up early and be ready to go at any time.
The Helicopter Arrives at Castletownbere Depot
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24-70mm f/2.8 @ 24mm
f/8, 1/250 @ ISO 100
As luck would have it, it was decided that the Bull would be early in the schedule. In short order, myself and Mark Devlin (a technician at the drawing office, and an avid amateur photographer) struggled into the tight-fitting day-glo orange survival suits and loaded our gear into the helicopter upon its return from the previous flight.
Lifejackets on and strapped in, away we went flying over the south coast of the Beara, out over Dursey Island, past the ruin of the Calf, the steep crags of the Cow and finally to the Bull. Aerial photography of the Bull wasn’t possible that day as there’s a large gannet population on the island, and the pilot didn’t want to do anything other than go straight in and out to minimize the chances of ingesting one into an engine or the rotor system. I didn’t actually see the rock until we landed on it as I was seated facing backwards (the best position if photography is possible, but not the best for seeing what’s in front of the helicopter).
The Ruined Lighthouse on the Calf
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24-70mm f/2.8 @ 70mm
f/5.6, 1/2000 @ ISO 400
Like many of the rock stations, there isn’t really enough room for a helipad. To get around this small problem, it’s built on stilts with sheer drops on three sides. After landing, Ronnie (the attendant) and Mick (a tradesman) greeted us and instructed me to stay clear while they unloaded, as the helicopter wasn’t shutting down its engines. I scurried out of the way, somewhat amazed to find myself on this sheer and unforgiving place in the middle of the ocean – my home for the next two nights.
Unloading the Helicopter on Arrival at the Bull
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24-70mm f/2.8 @ 24mm
f/14, 1/160 @ ISO 100
Accommodation on the rock is limited. It will sleep four people comfortably, more at a pinch. It consists of the original keeper’s house, which has two bedrooms. This is directly above the helipad and is connected to the lighthouse tower itself. A short distance away on the eastern part of the rock’s summit is the so-called ‘Wendy House’, a somewhat flimsier-looking structure with its own kitchen, dining room and three bedrooms (although only two are used at a time) and of course a bathroom. Mark elected to stay in the Wendy House with Mick, and I moved into the keeper’s house with Ronnie.
Common Room in the Keeper’s House
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24-70mm f/2.8 @ 24mm
f/4, 1/40 @ ISO 400
I was very impressed with the quality of the accommodation. I had a notion that because the lighthouses are unmanned and on exposed rocks that the buildings would be dank and damp. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Both buildings were warm, dry and well-appointed. Nothing luxurious, mind you, but certainly very comfortable. This is due to the care and attention that Irish Lights pays to the upkeep of its facilities. Diesel generators run at intervals throughout the year to power heaters and dehumidifiers to stave off the damp, so that when the accommodation is needed it’s ready. Mick and Ronnie had been on the rock for the previous three weeks doing routine maintenance, so the place was well lived in by the time we arrived.
After stowing my food and dropping my luggage and sleeping bag in my room, I left the others to their work and set about exploring the rock. The Bull is probably the largest of the true rock stations – which would be classified as being on otherwise uninhabitable islands, little more than rocks thrusting out of the ocean. As such, there’s quite a bit to explore. It has two helipads, the one on the southern side that we used, and another on the northern side. It’s the only rock to have two helipads, but the second one isn’t usable except during the winter months. This is because the gannet colony on the island has grown over the last several years and now encroaches directly on the upper pad. Due to the danger to the helicopter, and out of consideration for the nesting birds, the upper pad is off-limits when the gannets are present except in emergencies.
The Upper Pad & Gannet Colony
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24-70mm f/2.8 @ 24mm
f/8, 1/320 @ ISO 400
The same building that has the keeper’s accommodation also houses the engine room which provides domestic power for building conditioning and electricity when the rock is occupied. From there, it’s possible to enter the tower of the lighthouse directly. It’s a fairly modest structure – not needing to be terribly tall as the base of the tower is already just about 200 feet above the water. When I went up into the lantern room, I was surprised at how small the lens assembly is, and at how small the bulb was. Just 35W, but when focused by the fresnel lenses is visible for 21 nautical miles.
Lantern Assembly at the Bull Rock Lighthouse
Phase One P45+, Arca-Swiss RM3D, 35mm Schneider Digitar XL f/5.6
Aperture unrecorded, 1/500 @ ISO 50
The present light is new, having replaced the beautiful old French fresnel system in 2000 when the station was converted to solar power. The old lens was just too heavy to be powered by the new system, so the smaller and lighter (and less powerful) system was put in place.
After looking at the light, I wandered about outside, poking my head into the oil store and workshop, saying hello to the guys in the Wendy House and paying a visit to the gannets on the north side of the rock. After that, it was time to brave the steps leading down to the landing, past the old gas house and gasometers – from when the light was powered by, well, gas.
Taking a Breather
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24mm f/1.4 II
f/1.4, 1/5000 @ ISO 100
It’s a fairly precipitous trip down. The steps are steep in places and it’s quite exposed. Worth it, though. The gas house in particular is an amazing sight – a magnificent Victorian industrial building – built into an almost sheer cliff. Photographic opportunities are limited due to the fact that your options for different angles are seriously constrained. I wasn’t able to get any images of this structure that I’m terribly happy with – I’m hoping for more on my next visit, whenever that may be.
Rope Storage & Gas House Beyond
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24mm f/1.4 II
f/11, 1/160 @ ISO 400
Stolen Egg Near the Dock
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24mm f/1.4 II
f/1.4, 1/8000 @ ISO 200
After I’d done my exploring, it was time to climb back up to the summit – I made this trip several times over the course of my stay on the rock – there’s certainly no shortage of exercise available in this place!
That evening, after Mark had done his work for the day, the two of us took our cameras out and photographed the gannets against the early evening sky. Due to the almost-constant wind blowing over the rock, there’s plenty of opportunity for them to glide and hover in the airflow above their nests. They’re remarkably graceful flyers, but are totally inept on the ground. They panic easily and bounce, trip and flop their way to the cliff edge and into the air if disturbed. Even when left alone, they are comically ungraceful except when airborne.
Gannets in Flight
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 70-200mm f/2.8 IS + 1.4× @ 145mm
f/5.6, 1/1600 @ ISO 400
As night fell, I did a little night photography, and generally enjoyed the experience of spending a night in such a remarkable place.
Derrick, Bull Rock
Phase One P45+, Arca-Swiss RM3D, 35mm Schneider Digitar XL f/5.6
Aperture unrecorded, 1/30 @ ISO 50
Dursey, the Cow & the Calf, Bull Rock
Phase One P45+, Arca-Swiss RM3D, 35mm Schneider Digitar XL f/5.6
Aperture unrecorded, 1/30 @ ISO 50
View to the Skelligs, Bull Rock
Phase One P45+, Arca-Swiss RM3D, 35mm Schneider Digitar XL f/5.6
Aperture unrecorded, 20 seconds @ ISO 100
Nocturne, The Bull Rock Lighthouse, Co. Cork
Phase One P45+, Arca-Swiss RM3D, 35mm Schneider Digitar XL f/5.6
Aperture unrecorded, 40 seconds @ ISO 100
Day 2
The second day dawned rather dull and gray, so my hoped-for dramatic sunrise didn’t happen. I had dutifully set my alarm, but after waking up and going outside to light rain and solid overcast, I took the opportunity to crawl back into bed until a more civilized hour.
After breakfast, I took the opportunity to go up with Ronnie to the lantern. He had to run some checks to ensure that all was well, and generally give the place a bit of a clean. By this point the day had turned very blustery – strong winds and scattered rain were lashing the rock. It was quite warm and cosy in the greenhouse of the lantern room, so we spent an enjoyable time chatting and watching the birds while he did his work.
Ronnie and the Lantern
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24mm f/1.4 II
f/1.4, 1/8000 @ ISO 200
The day being what it was, most of it was spent indoors chatting to the others, working on images and reading. However, towards evening the weather moderated and there was some good photography to be had – two of my favourite images from the trip were made later that afternoon and evening.
Islands and Gannet, Bull Rock, Co. Cork
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 24mm f/1.4 II
f/5, 1/3200 @ ISO 400
p=.Night Falls, Bull Rock Lighthouse, Co. Cork
Phase One P45+, Arca-Swiss RM3D, 35mm Schneider Digitar XL f/5.6
Aperture unrecorded, 59 seconds @ ISO 50
Day 3
I set my alarm again for this morning, and was rewarded with a good sunrise. I spent an enjoyable couple of hours wandering around the rock, taking advantage of compositions I’d scouted in the previous days.
Sea Pink, Bull Rock Lighthouse, Co. Cork
Phase One P45+, Arca-Swiss RM3D, 35mm Schneider Digitar XL f/5.6
Aperture unrecorded, 1/4 @ ISO 50
We were supposed to be picked up on this morning by the helicopter. However, the winds were not co-operating and were running from the north/northwest at 20+ knots. Not gale force, but from the wrong direction, rendering the main pad unusable. If the gannets weren’t around, we could have used the upper pad, but that wasn’t an option. After some consultation over the phone, it was decided that no flying would be happening that day. It was some solace that we weren’t the only station affected – all helicopter operations were suspended that day to the other stations as well.
So, we had to dig into the extra food we’d brought and resign ourselves to staying one more night on the rock. I’m sure Ronnie and Mick would have been happier getting off that day, having spent the last three weeks there, but I wasn’t complaining.
Perversely, this was the nicest day we had. On the north side of the rock, the wind was strong and cold. In the lee of the summit, by the accommodation and helipad, the sun was splitting the stones and it was dead calm. Ronnie and Mick took to sunbathing on the pad, and even I succumbed to the urge and sunned myself like a lizard for a while.
While I was sitting on the edge of the pad with my feet resting on the mesh net surrounding it, Mick announced that he was going to the old landing to catch dinner. There are two landings on the island, one which I had visited earlier under the gas house, and another on the southern side of the rock which is entirely disused and very exposed. It’s accessible from the path to the other landing, but the steps are in bad condition in many places and there is no handrail. It also twists and turns in a very precipitous way, and is pretty terrifying to negotiate on the way down – going back up isn’t quite so bad, thankfully.
Goin’ Fishin’
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 70-200mm f/2.8 IS + 1.4× @ 280mm
f/7.1, 1/320 @ ISO 400
I watched Mick head down with practiced ease and decided that it would be a shame to let a little fear get in the way of a great experience, and possibly a good photograph. I gathered up the camera and started down myself, meeting Mark halfway. He decided to join me and so down we went. After a few ‘what the hell am I doing’ moments, we arrived at the dock to see that Mick had given up on the fishing as the rise and fall of the swell was too much – waves were breaking over the dock unpredictably and it was too dangerous to stay at the bottom. He also let us know that there had been a huge bull seal sleeping down there when he came, and he had rung the keeper’s quarters to let us know – but we didn’t hear as we were all outside at the time.
We hung out near the base of the steps, chatting and making photographs – none of which turned out to be terribly remarkable. After a while, we made our way back up – me faintly surprised that I hadn’t slid off the cliff or been washed out to sea.
Peter Heading Back from the Dock (image courtesy of Mark Devlin)
Nikon D700, 20mm f/2.8
f/13, 1/250 @ ISO 200
Looking up the Steps (image courtesy of Mark Devlin)
Nikon D700, 20mm f/2.8
f/13, 1/60 @ ISO 200
After that, it was time to don hat, gloves and windbreaker to go over to the north side and see if I could improve on the first day’s gannet shooting. I walked down the path to the pad, slowly and averting my eyes from the gannets just a few feet away to stop them panicking. The wind was more northeasterly now and so I sat myself down a few feet from the cliff edge on that side and watched the birds hovering and soaring in the airstream being forced up and over the island. I found the couple of hours I spent there hugely relaxing and challenging at the same time. I had a couple of photographs in mind, certain interactions I wanted to capture. Some I was successful at, others not. On the whole, I thoroughly enjoyed that afternoon’s photography.
Gannet in Flight, Bull Rock
Canon EOS 5D Mk II, EF 70-200mm f/2.8 IS + 1.4× @ 280mm
f/5, 1/1600 @ ISO 400
Day 4
The day dawned dull again, so there was no morning photography, just as the sunset was obscured the night before. However, the wind had moderated. Even though it was still coming from the wrong direction, it was so slight as to not cause a problem. Our pilot decided to give it a try, and sure enough was able to land.
As there was a lot of equipment, tools and baggage to go off the island with us, two trips were necessary. All the equipment was loaded in the helicopter for the first run, and off he went. We were to go out on the second run with minimal baggage. This made for an interesting wait, because if the wind had picked up in the intervening time, we’d be stranded with no sleeping bags and no food but the emergency rations stored in the keeper’s dwellings.
Thankfully, that wasn’t the case and the pilot made the landing on the return trip without incident. We were ready and waiting in our survival suits and as soon as we were belted in, off we went.
As on the trip out, there was no scope for aerial photography as we needed to clear the gannets quickly. This time however, facing backwards paid off as I was able to get a few images of the rock as it receded.
After a smooth flight it was back on the mainland. At first, it seemed quite odd to have so much space to move around in. Getting into my jeep for the drive home felt a little like strange – like I’d been living in a parallel universe for the last few days.
I’m very grateful to Irish Lights for their co-operation and hospitality in getting me out to the lighthouse. I continue to be impressed by the professionalism of the organization and the commitment it has to maintaining these remarkable engineering achievements in such inhospitable locations.
I hope that you have found this article interesting. If you’d like to improve your camera or post-processing techniques, I run regular workshops at my studio in West Cork and in Dublin.
On top of that, I also run ten-day touring workshops. Contact me for details.
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