The history (and tragedy) of Lochend's sunken island

The unintended wildlife haven and its uncertain future

In an often bypassed corner of Edinburgh, wedged between Leith and Meadowbank, is Lochend Loch. From the water’s edge, there are unexpectedly clear views across to Arthur’s Seat, which lies less than two miles to the south. More surprising still is the entangled web of thick branches which reach out of the centre of the water, like some kind of tropical mangrove or primeval swamp.

These trees were not planted under water of course; they used to stand atop a man-made island in the centre of the natural loch. The reason for this island and its decline into the depths traces back to a long and tragic history, but one which has allowed this urban loch to become a haven for wildlife in urban Edinburgh.

Tragedy and trash: the history of Lochend Loch

As could easily be deduced, the loch in Lochend pre-dates the neighbourhood; the history of the loch is excellently documented by Andy Arthur here, but if you’re pushed for time, here’s a brief summary. Lochend Loch has been around for hundreds of years, serving as the water source for the Port of Leith, a curling rink during cold winters, and eventually a public park when the housing estates of Lochend, Restalrig and Craigentinny were built around it in the 1920s and 30s.

Until the late 1950s the loch and its surroundings were maintained as a public park for the local area, with a dedicated bird sanctuary. In 1958, the tragic death of a young boy from falling into the loch kickstarted a series of disastrous developments for Lochend Park.

The initial, and fairly uncontroversial, response of the city council was to fill the loch to a safe depth, using rubble from ongoing slum demolition. However in 1961, little progress had been made - construction aggregate was getting expensive and the natural spring which filled the loch was proving difficult to tame. In 1961, the local authority sought out a larger source of material; landfill waste. For 18 months, truckloads of landfill waste were dumped into the loch, and a permanent bonfire was lit to burn furniture and garden waste which could not be tipped into the water. Public outrage mounted as oil polluted the loch’s waters, and dust and smoke coated windows of neighbouring houses.

This outrageous use of a public park proved untenable for the local authority, who finally gave up their attempts to fill the loch in 1962, leaving the debris to settle and the water to return to its natural level. The renewed loch was still filled with debris, but it was adorned with a lovely man-made island, planted with trees. But once again nature would have her way, and no-one else’s; the decomposing loose debris under the island shifted and compressed under the water, and the trees planted on it slid underwater and toppled as their bedrock decomposed.

Nature’s recovery

Sixty years later, most of the “island” trees continue to bloom, despite decades of growing underwater- creating a striking, primeval landscape of branches not dissimilar from the mangrove forests of tropical climates. This sheltered and undisturbed area has become, by accident, a haven for bird life. Last year, the Friends of Lochend Park recorded over fifty different species of bird, including curlews, cormorants and kingfishers. Little grebes, which are rarely seen elsewhere in Edinburgh, have nested on the loch several times. Other species nest around the loch, including moorhens, coots, tufted ducks and Canada geese - in the last few years several heron nests have appeared too. There are even three terrapins that appeared in the loch unexpectedly a few years ago. “You don’t know whether they’re happy or not… but they have survived for quite a few years now,” says Wilkins about the out-of-place species.

All of this wildlife is tantalisingly visible to visitors. A single loop of the loch affords views of heron nests, goslings, coot chicks, moorhens - with some binoculars you can also spot the little grebes and the famous terrapins, sunning themselves on exposed logs. From a viewing platform, visitors can hardly miss one large heron nest, sitting right on the front edge of the former island. Watching a heron sit serenely in its nest, while listening to the joyful raucousness of the play park behind the platform, reinforces just how urban and busy this bird habitat is.

“Part of the appeal of it for the birds I suspect is that nobody goes out there…” says Richard Wilkins, musing on why the underwater woodland has been so popular with bird life. It seems the total inaccessibility of the failed island to humans has allowed nature to return in force. He also points out the dying wood can be sought out by certain species like woodpeckers, which have been spotted in the park in the past.

Amazingly, it seems the presence of landfill waste under the loch has not had dramatic influences on the water quality; although there is a marked absence of frogs and other amphibians in the water. The Friends of Lochend Park have installed a gravel filter and wetland habitat, which cleans up the surface water that drains into the loch from surrounding pavements.

Looking to the future

Lochend’s sunken island is in fact more like the sinking island; eventually the trees will die, and there are concerns for how the bird life will do without that habitat. The influx of herons might also be decreasing (i.e. gobbling) the eggs and chicks of other birds. But man-made efforts to provide a replacement habitat appear to have been futile; a floating “biohaven” of plants which was launched in 2019 now sits bare and looking rather useless next to the green maze of trees.

With extra funding the Friends group would like to get some professional surveying and advice on enhancing the biodiversity of the area, and finding alternative habitats when the sunken trees eventually die. However, it does seem that the best thing humans have done for Lochend Loch is leave it alone - after we gave up trying to fill in, shallow-out, or reshape the loch, nature has rebounded fantastically. “It might just be one of these things where we have to let nature take its course,” says Wilkins.