We caught the boat over on a damp, occasionally rainy day. After a little while sheltering in the (almost but not quite wholly inadequate) gift shop and visitor centre, we went off on a little tour.
Little is the operative word, you can walk around the island in under twenty minutes.
The Island is overgrown with a tangle of trees. We circled around on the lake-side path, seeing what we could see.
At one point in our circumnavigation, we came across a felled oak tree - it had seemingly been blown over and mostly uprooted - but it was still alive! Sufficient of the roots were still hale and intact underground, it seemed, to keep the tree flourishing, and branches were now beginning to take a new direction. Growing through the wreckage of the roots were young birch and aspen trees - the former topping out much higher than the latter. And finally, the old crown of the oak had become encrusted and entwined with holly. It was a great confusion of different trees that these pictures, unfortunately, don't properly capture. 
Also on the Island is this tiny manicured lawn and bench, which I felt was rather twee (and there are stories of fairies and bogles associated with Inchmahome, but I suspect more in and around the trees than here).
The island is also the home of the ruins of the Augustinian Inchmahome Priory.
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