A 150 metre tunnel leads from the Guardhouse down into the bunker, which is on two levels, the lowest being 30 metres (almost 100ft) underground. As the threat of a nuclear attack increased then the bunker needed to adapt, and in the early 1970s it was refurbished to accommodate its new role, which it did until 1993.

Some 300 personnel were employed here and there are 42 rooms that can be accessed (some still can’t be for security reasons). Obviously, I can’t describe them all here but they include everything that would help the country to survive after a nuclear attack.

The pictures below show a Dormitory, Telephone Exchange, Emergency Services Control Room and a BBC Studio.

There was, of course, all the facilities needed to keep the bunker going such as the Mess Hall, which is now a visitors’ café

The room where the Radar operators monitored any potential threat would undoubtedly have been one of the most important of all, and it sends a shudder down my spine to think that a 4-minute warning was all we had (have) in order to deal with a nuclear attack.

The Minister of State for Scotland was responsible for taking the appropriate action if the worst-case scenario happened, and he had his own office/bedroom next to the Nuclear Command Control Centre.

The Cold War thankfully finished some time ago now, and on 1^st April 1994 the Bunker was opened up to the public. It may not have been on your radar beforehand, but Scotland’s Secret Bunker really shouldn’t be a secret anymore. Don’t miss it.

Most of the cacophony of noise seemed to be coming out of the beaks of the 4 different species of tern that breed here, who also had a nasty habit of dive bombing anybody who strayed a bit too close to their nest – and even those that didn’t.

I’m not sure why they felt threatened really, because the island is a National Nature Reserve, owned and managed by Scottish Natural Heritage who obviously make sure that the well being of the birds come first. When you arrive on the island a warden greets passengers off of the May Princess, and then gives a short talk about the island and guidelines on where you can, and can’t go. It’s mostly just common sense to be honest.

Before I go any further, I have to admit that although I love watching birds I’m no expert: Even so, it was easy enough to spot some of my favourites; there were plenty of Guillemots, Razorbills, Puffins, Kittiwakes and Gannets (but not as many as there are on Bass Rock): There’s also a new addition to my list of favourites – the Eider Duck. I couldn’t help but fall for a female who was sat on her nest and not in the least bit bothered my presence.

The carousel shows some Guillemots, a Puffin and the female Eider Duck.

The birds are the undisputed stars of the show, but there are other things to see and do in the 3 hours or so that you’re given to explore the island.

A short distance from the arrival and departure point at Kirkhaven are the ruins of a priory built by Henry I in 1125 in memory of St. Adrian, an Irish missionary who was murdered here by Vikings in 875, but a more substantial relic from the past is The Beacon, Scotland’s first ever lighthouse.

It’s not difficult to see why The Beacon was built: After many shipwrecks and loss of life, Alexander Cunningham constructed the square tower near the centre of the island in 1636 with a coal-burning beacon on top.

You would think, wouldn’t you? that everybody would be grateful for this aid to saving lives, but not so. The problem was of course, that the cargo from shipwrecks found its way into the hands of locals who could put it all to a much better use, or at least that’s how they saw it.

No doubt The Beacon did help to save many lives, but perversely, there were some that it also took.

In 1791 a storm blew out the Beacon for two days, and a short time afterwards, the keeper, his wife and five of his six children were found dead: It seems that the embers from the Beacon caused poisonous Sulphur dioxide fumes to seep into their bedroom while they were asleep.

By the time you’ve walked around the island, observed the birdlife, and taken in some of the island’s features, it’ll be time to leave Kirkhaven.

Our journey from Anstruther to May had brought us along the eastern side of the island, but the return sailing was to take us around the other side, where not only could we see the cliffs and birdlife up close, but also some of the resident grey seals. Outside of the breeding season the numbers of seals that can be seen are around the hundred mark, but come the Autumn the population increases into the thousands when around 4,000 seals haul themselves ashore, mate, and give birth to around 2,000 pups.

The May Princess runs from the beginning of April to the end of September and so it’s possible to see some of the first pups at the end of the season. The breeding season for the seabirds is between April and July.

The trip lasts between 4½ and 5 hours and currently costs £28 for a full fare-paying adult and concessions apply (June 2019).

If you’re ever lucky enough to find yourself in the East Neuk of Fife and the weather’s looking good, take my advice and jump on board the May Princess and head out to the fantastic Isle of May. Even if you forget your earplugs and hat, you won’t forget the Isle of May.

https://www.isleofmayferry.com/index.php

Of all the harbours along this coastline, St Monans is one of the smallest, but in my opinion, also one of the most picturesque. Not only was fishing big business here, so was boat building. Sadly, not only have the majority of fishing boats disappeared, so too have the boatyards.

Another industry that has gone the same way here is salt production. Just a short wander along the coast path out of the village towards Pittenweem is a windmill that stands testament to the once thriving, but short-lived source of income for the village. The nearby hollows in the ground show where the sea water was heated in the salt pans and powered by the windmill.

About half an hour’s stroll from the salt pans will bring you into the slightly larger village of Pittenweem.

The footpath brings you into the village by way of the West Harbour with its small boats and fishermen’s cottages. These cottages give way to larger houses that once belonged to ship owners and sea captains who once plied their trade with the Low Countries. This trade saw the introduction of the type of building style more associated with the Netherlands and Belgium with red pantiled roofs and crow-stepped gables, and some of the best examples are at The Gyles at the eastern end of the main harbour.

The main harbour is the busiest along this stretch of coastline, and although it has a daily fish market, the catch is still relatively small compared to the north-eastern fishing ports of Peterhead and Fraserburgh.

‘Pittenweem’ apparently means ’Place of the Cave’ and presumably refers to St. Fillan’s Cave which is situated in Cove Wynd near the harbour.

Apparently, this cave, although several metres above sea level now, would have been formed by sea erosion and has been used as a storage place and shelter for who knows how many years.

It’s association with St. Fillan goes back to the 8^th century when the Irish missionary set up home here. Supposedly blessed with special healing powers, he was also deemed to have had a “luminous left arm by which he saw to read and write”; I have to say though, that it never ceases to amaze me how these saints possess all these different miraculous powers and all come from Ireland.

You won’t need any miracles to help you get to get to the next village along the coast as it’s less than a couple of miles away.

Anstruther is the largest of the East Neuk fishing villages and, sitting as it does around half way along this coast, is probably the most convenient place to stay. It also has the most amenities, which of course, also makes it the busiest. That said, it’s still only a community of around three and a half thousand people, so don’t come here expecting a great metropolis.

A look at the local Ordnance Survey map reveals that there’s an Anstruther Wester and an Anstruther Easter, and the Dreel Burn used to be the dividing line between the two; the burn still runs into the sea but the town has long been unified and is now just called Anstruther.

As with all the other villages along this coastline, fishing has traditionally been the main industry, but with the decline of the shoals of herring it also meant the decline of Anstruther. Although the village is larger than Pittenweem its harbour is not as busy with fishing boats, but as tourism has become more important it seems as good a place as any to have a museum devoted to Scottish fishing.

The Scottish Fisheries Museum is an excellent national museum located on the harbourside in buildings that date back to the 16^th century. These buildings surround a cobbled courtyard that was involved in fishing as long ago as the 14^th century, and in amongst all the fishing paraphernalia are some Heritage Boats and a collection of evocative paintings by Pittenweem artist John McGhie.

The quayside opposite the museum is the departure point for the boat to the Isle of May (which I’ll be describing separately), but if eating fish is more your thing than catching them, then after visiting the museum make sure that you allow enough time to visit the nearby Anstruther Fish Bar.

I say allow enough time because, with awards as long as your arm, this place is a bigger attraction than the museum, and you’ll need to be prepared to queue up whether it’s for the restaurant or the Take -Away.

In my opinion, the best place to eat your Fish Supper (as they call it up here), is on the harbourside where the benches just seem to have become an outdoor extension to this obligatory stop along the coast road through the village.

If you drive out through the village and keep to the coast rather than the main road, you’ll come to another little harbour at Cellardyke, which although these days is regarded as a part of Anstruther, has its own separate identity. If you miss the signs to Cellardyke, do yourself a favour and turn back because although it’s not the easiest of places to find, you’ll be glad you did.
In the past it was a busier fishing harbour than its larger neighbour, and though it may be difficult to imagine now, apparently over 200 fishing boats used this harbour until a storm in 1898 damaged it enough to force the boats down into the better and newer one at Anstruther.

So how did the name Cellardyke originate? Well, the story goes that the dykes (walls) that were used to hang the fishing nets over to dry, glistened in the sun with the scales of the silver darlings (herring) and so were called “Sil’erdykes”.
There’s no fishing nets left out to dry on the harbour these days but washing is. It’s this sort of thing that sets the village apart from its neighbours. The boats maybe gone but there still seems to be a sense of community here amongst the narrow streets of terraced houses.

The final fishing harbour on our East Neuk tour is the small village of Crail, which can be reached by joining the A917 from Cellardyke. Parking is encouraged in the village rather than the harbour which will give you the opportunity to check out the small Museum and Heritage Centre situated next to the Dutch styled Tolbooth. It won’t set your pulse racing but it also doubles up as a friendly and welcoming Visitor Centre.

It’s the harbour that most people come to see though and although all the East Neuk fishing harbours have their merits, Crail is definitely one of the most picturesque.

If you’re a lover of fresh crab or lobster then you’re in luck because it doesn’t come any fresher than if you buy it from the ‘Lobster Store’. From a hut on the quayside the Reilly family are happy to sell their daily catch to anyone who can’t resist the temptation.

The harbour is quite small compared to St. Monans, Pittenweem and Anstruther, but it’s big on character and a fitting place to finish our tour of the East Neuk fishing villages.