The girl kneels on the ice, grasps the stone, fixes her eyes on the prey and takes aim. Her prey is another stone placed within the marked-out target. She has to hit it out of the way to claim an Olympic gold for her team. This is the sport of curling.
In 1998 curling was played for the first time at the Winter Olympics in Japan. It’s difficult for the uninitiated, like myself, to appreciate the finer points of it. It seemed like a whole lot of fuss and bother to get a stone to slide along the ice into a marked-out circle. Yes, it is kind of like playing huge marbles on ice but the skill required to ease the stones into the circular target and then the effort to knock opponents out is the result of long, long hours and even years of practice. It is probably more like a game of boules on ice.
The origin of curling can be traced back to the beginning of the 16th century and, at that time, any kind of heavy smooth stone was used in play. Every town and village in Scotland and most large estates had natural or man-made ponds on which matches were played when winter ice formed. At Kilmarnock, a crossroads was flooded deliberately from a nearby well to provide an ice rink for the players. The sport became most popular in the 18th and 19th centuries.
It was discovered that the best material for making curling stones – or “curling staines”, as the locals call them – comes from a quarry on an island off the western coast of Scotland. For Olympic curling competitions, players must use the unique stones manufactured from the granite found on Ailsa Craig.
READ MORE
My introduction to Ailsa Craig was on a flight to Scotland when the captain announced: “We are now approaching the Firth of Clyde, and if you look below you can see Ailsa Craig.”
Ailsa Craig looks just like a large Christmas pudding dumped in the sea. This small uninhabited island is eight miles out from the Ayrshire coast. Uninhabited now but colonised by sea birds, the place is overrun by 40,000 squawking gannets.
In 1890 they were all but run off the island by rats. At that time there was a family of lighthouse keepers living there. It was reported that their dog killed 59 rats in one day, and in a month 900 were reported to have been killed by the workers there. However, the rats came back to haunt them and fed themselves on gannet eggs, chicks and puffins.
Something drastic had to be done, and so “the powers that be” resorted to poison. That had the desired effect but a number of birds were lost also. However, Ailsa Craig is a protected heritage sight now, without rats but with plenty of gannets clinging to the tall cliffs and rearing their young in safety.
Ailsa Craig surfaced again when I was invited by a Scottish friend to attend a game of curling. I had no idea what to expect, but it soon became apparent that the game takes a great deal of skill and expertise from the players who manipulate the curling stone and from the sweepers in front who frantically guide the stones on an invisible pathway. Curling got its name because of the way the stone is encouraged to develop a “curl” to achieve a hit or a position within the circular target.
[ ‘The whole spirit of curling is dead’: Meltdown on the ice as ruckus rumbles onOpens in new window ]
A game that began in 16th century rural Scotland now has at least two million registered players in the world – most of whom are Canadians. The game is played in China, Korea, Brazil, Italy and France, and increasing in popularity. That’s an awful lot of curling stones for Ailsa Craig to supply.
People along the coastline tell stories of the devil banishing the granite island out of hell. They talk of ghostly bloodthirsty animals who live there.
I watch the girl playing curling on television at the Winter Olympics. I see her steady hand on the curling stone. She stares at the target, eases the stone into position, sends it on its way, with two sweepers scrubbing the pathway on the ice to create the curl she needs to win. She holds her breath, waiting for the clack of the stones.
