In Flamborough: Seabird City

July 10, 2022

For no obvious reason other than slothishness I’ve gotten behind; and on a nine month odyssey if you get too far behind you’re in real trouble. So this is mostly a photo dump of a day that deserves better - the walk along the cliffs at Flamborough.

Flamborough is a draw for two reasons. One is for these chalk cliffs, I think the northernmost extent of these cliffs that run north from Dover. There’s a walking path right along the top of them, and for the first few miles I almost have the trail to myself (Rachael is taking nearly the same walk, but in the counterclockwise direction) and am free to stop wherever I want to check out the plants, the bugs and the views.

But first, breakfast. An experiment this morning - kippers, something I don’t remember ever trying before.

The view south. The beach below is at South Harbor where we walked after dinner last night.

Daisies and canola. I’ve never brushed my legs against canola when it’s matured and dried. The pod ends are kind of sharp!

Answers one question anyway. I’d wondered if it would work to bike this trail. Not well.

So what is this crop? We’ve biked past several fields of it in the last few days.

Another narrow bordered five spot moth! We saw this back along the estuary at Maldon also.

There are two lighthouses at the point. This is the new one, first operational in 1806. The second one which we’ll see later was built in 1669 but never lit.

Nearing the point of the cape. The new lighthouse and the parking lot at the end of Lighthouse Road are just off the frame to the left. We start seeing walkers and gawkers in abundance from here on out.

It was entertaining watching this seal attempt to beach on this slender shelf of exposed rock that immediately disappeared beneath the next wave.

About halfway into my eight mile loop I cross paths with Rachael going the other way, traveling faster and covering more ground than I will today. We compare notes - she tells me that the birds ahead are unbelievable, I tell her that she’ll enjoy a quiet trail for the next few miles. I let her down though and don’t think to mention the seal below that she might watch out for.

The second half of the walk is stunning. You can’t take your eyes off the gorgeous chalk cliffs of course, but the real draw is the immense number of sea birds nesting on them. They’re here in the tens of thousands, and this is the peak time for seeing them because they come here to breed and raise their young. The cliffs at Flamborough Head host one of the most important seabird colonies in Europe.

I travel slowly, stopping in wonder at each new cliff face peppered with birds that I come to. At one point I walk out to the tip of a promontory and just sit, watching and listening to the action on the cliff face and the water below and waiting for the next squadron of gannets to speed up the coast from the south, hoping to focus in on and track the racing birds in time to come away with a decent shot or two.

A bit later I come to the parking lot below the new lighthouse. It’s Sunday, a beautiful day in the middle of nesting season so of course there are crowds here eyeing the birds, sunning and picknicking on the grass above the sea, or playing on the beach below the cliffs. Also there are several volunteers from the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust, inviting people to view the nesting puffin they’ve locked their telescopes in on. I have my peek and then express my amazement at it all - the greatest concentration of sea birds I remember ever seeing. The man chuckles, and says if I want to see birds I should go a few miles further north to the cliffs below Bempton. Now they have a lot of birds, he says.

The old lighthouse, built of chalk it looks like.

A view back toward the head and the new lighthouse.

Gannets. Really a beautiful species. They fly in trains like brown pelicans but higher aloft and much faster.

Mostly guillemots but with a few razorbills mixed in. You can tell the difference even at this distance by the stubbier bill and white facial markings of razorbills.

The view up the coast. I’m sure every face is coated with birds as far as you can see. It’s all a natural reserve from here to the cliffs at Bempton, I think the farthest point out.

More guillemots. Note the fuzzy youngster in the lower right.

Gannets. Such an elegant bird. Their lemon-brown coloring along their necks is so beautiful.

Kittiwakes. There are at least four chicks in this frame, all being sheltered from the sun.

From Rachael’s longer walk after she left me: the trail along Danes Dyke, an ancient ravine/earthwork that formerly cut off the headland from the interior.

Today's ride: 2 miles (3 km)
Total: 870 miles (1,400 km)

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Polly LowWhat a great day! (There are some quite bad bird flu outbreaks in other coastal colonies at the moment - the Farne Island reserves, near me, are closed for that reason right now - but it sounds like things are ok down there, which is good news…)
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2 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Polly LowIt really was an exceptional day, and we were so lucky to be here in the right season. Especially lucky because embarrassingly enough I didn’t even know about the birds. I just liked the looks of the cliffs when I was looking for likely spots to overnight.
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2 years ago

Lucy MartinWow! Spectacular.
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2 years ago