Cornwall - Scillies crossing & pelagic :: 06&08 August 2026

It was time to add some pelagic species to my year list, and this year I decided to combine it with a few days' holiday with my wife, Kev @kev07713 and his wife, Karen. We travelled down to Cornwall and, on arrival, stopped at Hayle Estuary to work through the gulls for anything of interest. In particular, I was hoping for a yellow-legged gull, which had eluded me so far this year, but we came up empty-handed. We did, however, have superb views of two peregrine falcons from our position at the end of the causeway, an adult and a juvenile.

After a lovely dinner together, we retired to our rooms, agreeing to meet the following morning for some sea watching. We decided on Porthgwarra as our base, despite the winds having turned westerly and Pendeen looking the better option. Our plan was to spend the morning sea watching before heading to Sennen Cove for lunch and a look around.

We set up overlooking the bay and began following the shearwaters, gulls and guillemots as they worked their way through, hoping to pick out something more than the prolific Manx shearwaters. It was enjoyable watching, but most of the birds remained at considerable distance offshore, making photography largely out of the question.

The first addition to our year lists was a sooty shearwater, picked out by Kev at significant range but unmistakable among the other species. Later, we added a Cory's shearwater, before being joined by a couple of birders who found another sooty shearwater and while we added a couple of European storm petrels to the list.

They told us they had already been to Pendeen but had been unable to join the sea watch there because of the number of cars and the resulting queues, so they had returned to Porthgwarra. Apparently, the parking spaces had been exhausted by 6.15am, giving us some idea of just how busy it had been.

As we continued watching, we noticed some people snorkelling in the bay. Comically, one of them was being followed by a seal. Each time the swimmer surfaced and turned to look behind them, the seal had disappeared beneath the water. When we spoke to them afterwards, they admitted that they had been completely unaware of its presence, making for an amusing end to an enjoyable morning's sea watching.

We dropped into Sennen Cove and were lucky enough to find a parking space near the harbour. As we paid for parking at the machine, two choughs flew overhead, calling as they headed along the coast before landing some distance away. Using my camera, I picked out that there were five birds, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time we saw or heard them during our time there.

We stopped at a café for our first Cornish pasties of the holiday before heading along the sea front and to the steps towards the beach, where we all indulged in ice creams.

Sennen Cove sits around a broad, sweeping sandy beach backed by rugged cliffs, with a small harbour and rocky shoreline adding to its character. Exposed to the full force of the Atlantic, it has a wild and open feel and is popular with surfers, walkers and sea watchers. The surrounding cliffs and rocky headlands also provide excellent vantage points for watching seabirds passing offshore, while on a clear day there are expansive views out across the Atlantic. Although we weren't out birdwatching, we couldn't resist scanning through the gulls and checking the rocks, but we didn't find anything new for the year.

We finished our day with another dinner together and arranged to meet in time to go to Penzance where we would take the Scillonian II ferry to the Isles of Scilly. The Scillonian III is the passenger ferry operated by Isles of Scilly Travel, linking Penzance in Cornwall with St Mary's, the largest of the Isles of Scilly. The crossing takes roughly 2 hours 45 minutes, depending on sea conditions, and provides a scenic journey across the Atlantic.

For birders, the crossing can be particularly worthwhile. The open water offers opportunities to watch gannets, gulls, shearwaters, fulmars, skuas and other seabirds, with the possibility of something more unusual during favourable weather and wind conditions. The exposed deck gives good views across the sea, although conditions can be challenging when the Atlantic is rough. The journey itself can become part of the birding experience, particularly when travelling during periods of strong winds or active seabird movement.

We took our places aboard the ferry and settled in for the crossing to the Isles of Scilly. Even before leaving the harbour, there were birds to keep us occupied, with rock pipits moving along the sea wall and ringed plovers feeding on the rocks. It was a good start to what we hoped would be a productive few hours of sea watching.

Kev and Karen have made the crossing several times before, so Karen had kindly arranged our tickets, and Kev was able to pass on his experience of the journey. He suggested the best places for us to sit and, more importantly, where to stand when we wanted to scan the open water for passing seabirds. With the prospect of shearwaters, skuas, petrels and other pelagic species, choosing the right position on the ferry could make all the difference.

As we prepared to leave Penzance, we had our cameras and binoculars ready, knowing that once we were out into open water the birding could become considerably more interesting. The plan was to spend as much of the crossing as possible watching the sea, checking every distant bird and hoping that something special would make its way past the ferry.

Behind us on the mainland we could see the helicopter helipad where transit can be made to the island. The helicopter service operates from Penzance Heliport, offering a fast and scenic transfer across to St Mary’s in the Isles of Scilly. The short flight takes you out over Mount’s Bay and across the Atlantic, with the islands appearing below as you approach St Mary’s. Unlike the ferry, the journey is over almost before you have time to settle in, but the aerial views provide a completely different perspective of the Cornish coastline and the islands. It was not for us as we wanted the pelagic bird experience which this mode of transport negates.

Out on the open water, we soon began to encounter Manx shearwaters, which would prove to be the most numerous of the seabird species we saw during the trip. As we moved further from the coast, increasing numbers could be seen not only flying past the boat but also rafting on the surface.

Among them were a few common guillemots, adding some variety to the steadily growing list of seabirds. The distance and movement of the birds and boat meant that we weren't going to be getting frame-filling photographs from here, but that wasn't really the objective. Instead, we were aiming for views and record shots - enough to capture the moment, confirm our sightings and provide something to look back on when jogging our memories of the trip.

As we got further from land, we noticed increasing numbers of fulmars cutting across the water, adding to the growing variety of seabirds around the boat.

We also recognised one of the other birders on board as someone we'd encountered before. After a brief conversation, we realised we'd met previously while visiting the south coast for a desert wheatear. It turned out to be Marcus Warden, @sniffer2012.bsky.social a Bucks birder, and it was a nice coincidence to meet again on the crossing. As it turned out, we would see him again on the return journey.

Then bang, there was a lifer for me, two great shearwaters on the water. I struggled to pick them up through the camera until we were passed and they took to the air. A species I'd been unable to see on my previous trip to Cornwall to see pelagic species.

Great shearwaters are one of the species that make Cornish sea watching particularly exciting. Although they are far less numerous than Manx shearwaters, late summer and autumn can produce some impressive movements, with birds passing close to the coast or gathering offshore when conditions are right. Great shearwaters are considerably larger than Manx shearwaters and can be picked out by their distinctive flight and bulk.

They have dark brown-grey upperparts, contrasting with a paler underside, a dark cap and a prominent white collar around the throat. The underwings are largely white but show dark markings along the leading edge and at the wing tips. The bill is large and pale, often with a dark tip.

It typically flies with deep, deliberate wingbeats followed by long, effortless glides, often travelling low over the waves and using the wind and contours of the sea to its advantage. Rather than constantly flapping, it can cover considerable distances with surprisingly little effort, banking and wheeling as it follows the swell.

Not long after Kev called a bonxie, better known as a great skua. It was distant but through my binoculars I could see it was chasing a shearwater - I raised my camera and started to shoot off a series of record shots. The shearwater appeared large ... another great shearwater? On reviewing the photos, I could see it was a Cory's. The skua drove the Cory's into the water and shortly after the birds separated and the bonxie made a sharp right and passed the front of the boat.

A bonxie's behaviour is dominated by opportunism. They frequently harass other seabirds, such as gulls, gannets, kittiwakes and auks, pursuing them in flight until they drop or regurgitate their catch, which the skua then seizes in mid-air or from the water. T

They are also accomplished predators in their own right, taking fish directly from the sea and preying on smaller seabirds, chicks and even adult birds when the opportunity arises. Around fishing vessels, they readily take discarded fish.

In flight, great skuas appear powerful and purposeful, with strong, steady wingbeats interspersed with short glides. Unlike the more agile Arctic or pomarine skuas, they rely more on strength than speed, often flying low over the sea with a direct, determined manner.

Next up on the tablet were more Cory's shearwaters, a species I hadn't managed to photograph on my previous trip off the Cornish coast. Once again, the distance from the boat and its constant movement made anything more than record shots difficult, but I was pleased with the results and happy to have a few photographs to document the encounters.

Although they need to be picked out among the more numerous Manx shearwaters, their larger size, broad wings and distinctive, leisurely flight soon become apparent once you've had a good look at one. Seeing them from the coast is rewarding enough, but encountering them out in the open Atlantic, where they can be watched cruising effortlessly across the swell, is an altogether different experience.

Cory's have grey-brown upperparts, contrasting sharply with clean white underparts, while the head is generally paler with a darker cap and eye area. The large, stout bill is pale yellowish with a darker tip, giving the bird a distinctive expression at close range.

It is considerably larger and broader winged than a Manx shearwater, with a more substantial body and a slower, more measured flight style. In good light, the contrast between the darker upperparts and white underside is particularly noticeable as the bird banks or turns.

We arrived on St Mary’s and disembarked, taking a stroll along the seafront before finding a spot in a nearby park for some lunch. From there, we had a lovely view back across the harbour and the bay beyond, watching the constant activity as boats came and went. Kev got into conversation with an elderly woman on the next picnic bench.

The harbour was already busy, with passengers arriving and departing as they waited for their onward journeys to the other islands. The inter-island boats are an integral part of life on Scilly, providing regular connections between St Mary’s and the other islands. With crossings generally taking just 15 to 25 minutes, they make island-hopping an easy and enjoyable way to explore the archipelago, while also providing plenty of opportunities to take in the scenery along the way.

We eventually returned to the boat having had 4-hours on the island and started our return journey, meeting Marcus again. There were fewer opportunities for photos on the return but with increasing numbers of European storm petrels, with one at least appearing to be a Wilson's - without a confirmed ID it was still not on my list.

When we were back on land we had a lovely meal at a fish restaurant in Penzance and, while checking the local reports, discovered that a melodious warbler had been seen regularly throughout the day at Porthgwarra, in the apparently well-known "60-foot field". We hatched a plan for an early start, with Kev, Karen and me setting off to begin the search.

The “60-foot field” at Porthgwarra is a familiar stopping point for birders visiting this stretch of the Cornish coast. Sitting close to the sea watching area, it provides a useful patch of cover and open ground that can attract migrant birds, particularly during periods of easterly winds and migration. The surrounding hedges, fields and coastal scrub create a good mix of habitats, while the elevated position and proximity to the cliffs make it a natural place to pause and check through anything moving along the coast.

We met a couple of birders in the car park who pointed us in the right direction, as there was no telephone signal for us to check BirdGuides. Unfortunately, the news wasn't good. They had already been searching for around an hour and a half without a sighting, although other birders were still in the area, with a couple of them passing us as we made our way in.

To our surprise, the last remaining birder was Marcus, who had travelled over from his accommodation in Pendeen to try his luck. He had already been searching for an hour without success and, eventually, he too decided to call it a day and go back to meet his family for breakfast.

We continued our search, finding chiffchaffs, willow warblers, sedge warblers, whitethroats and a selection of other common species, but there was no sign of our target bird. Green and greater spotted woodpeckers called and flew around the area, providing some welcome distractions. Kev even tried viewing from a higher vantage point in the hope of getting a better angle into the vegetation, but the melodious warbler remained elusive.

A birder then returned to the area, followed shortly afterwards by another. The second arrival turned out to be the original finder of the warbler, who explained that the bird had spent much of the previous day showing well in a single bush. Unfortunately, that bush was now empty, apart from a few chiffchaffs, goldfinches and wrens.

Eventually, we had to admit defeat and abandon the search, returning to meet Charlotte and continue with the rest of the day, visiting Porthleven for lunch and dinner.

Saturday arrived and with it the highlight we'd been looking forward to - a six-hour pelagic trip with Mermaid Cruises. Coastal seabirds are familiar sights, with gulls, terns and cormorants regularly seen from beaches, cliffs and harbours. Pelagic seabirds, however, belong to a very different world.

They spend much of their lives far from land, in an environment that most of us rarely get the opportunity to experience. Out beyond the coastline, the open ocean is their home, and encountering these birds in their natural environment gives them an added sense of mystery. Species that can seem almost mythical when viewed only as distant specks from the coast suddenly become real, close enough to appreciate their size, shape and behaviour.

For us, the chance to spend six hours out on the open water was an opportunity to enter that world, searching the waves for the seabirds that spend their lives beyond the horizon.

We spent the morning playing crazy golf and enjoying coffee and cake before making our way to Penzance. Despite the harbour car park being absolutely rammed, we somehow both managed to quickly find spaces, leaving us free to make our way towards the departure point. As we walked through the car park, I spotted a clouded yellow butterfly heading out towards the sea - an unexpected little bit of wildlife before we'd even boarded the boat.

We stopped for a drink at the café beside the jetty where the boat would depart, taking the opportunity to relax before the six-hour trip ahead. As the boat eventually drew into the harbour, we joined the growing queue to board and met Trevor Ellery, @ElleryTrev16932, who was right at the front. With everyone eager to get aboard, the anticipation was building for what promised to be an exciting day out on the open water.

As the rest of the birders boarded, one climbed the steps towards where Kev, Karen, Trevor and I were sitting and greeted me with, "Hello Kyle." It was Hasan Al-Farhan, @HasanAlFarhan2, a Bucks birder based in Milton Keynes whom I'd bumped into a few times before and had also chatted with online. It was another nice coincidence and made the group feel even more familiar.

Once everyone was aboard, we settled in for the safety briefing and an introduction from our guide, Martin Elliot, before getting ready for the six-hour pelagic ahead.

Then came a slightly painful update. One of the birders we'd met while searching for the melodious warbler came over to tell us that his son had found the bird on the morning we were there, viewing it from the roadside further down the valley. We were genuinely pleased for them - congratulations to the finder and for the photographs - but there was no getting away from the other feeling: damn!

We set off from Penzance, and it wasn't long before Manx shearwaters began appearing around the boat once again. They provided the perfect introduction to our day on the water as we headed west, passing Land's End and leaving the Cornish coastline behind. We were given a warning that the seats at the back of the boat weren't actually bolted down to the deck. We were advised to be careful when leaning against them or using them for balance, as they could move unexpectedly and send us off balance - hopefully with us still ending up inside the boat!

As we passed some rafts of Manx shearwaters we also saw common dolphins, a sun fish (fin poking above the water), as gannets started plunge-diving in a feeding frenzy, one of a few we'd encounter today.

Common dolphins are highly social and are often encountered in groups ranging from a handful of animals to much larger pods. They are fast-moving and energetic dolphins, frequently travelling alongside boats and riding the bow wave. Their behaviour can be spectacular, porpoising and racing alongside the vessel, sometimes remaining with a boat for several minutes.

Their distinctive colouring makes them relatively easy to identify. They have a dark grey back, creamy or yellowish flanks and a pale underside, with a characteristic hourglass-like pattern along the sides. They are relatively small and slender compared with bottlenose dolphins, with a noticeably elongated, pointed beak. They grow up to 2.7 meters in length and weigh in up to 150 kg.

We reached our target area, as dictated by the captain rather than Martin Elliot. Martin began chumming the water, creating a slick behind the boat in the hope of drawing some of the more elusive pelagic species within range. The idea is simple: the scent and food particles spread across the surface and mimic the conditions created by a natural feeding event, potentially attracting birds that might otherwise pass well away from the boat.

For us, it meant the scanning became even more intense. Rather than simply watching birds passing in the distance, we were now looking for anything approaching the slick, with the possibility that a shearwater, skua or petrel might suddenly appear from the blue and give us the views we'd been hoping for. Gulls started to appear followed by a lovely fulmar.

A call went up as a bonxie (great skua) appeared off the starboard side at three o'clock, the clockface system we'd been instructed to use so everyone could quickly locate birds. It gave us a close fly-by before turning and heading back in the opposite direction, although this time at greater distance. It was an excellent start to our pelagic and would prove to be the first of four great skuas recorded from the boat that day.

It wasn't long before Martin called out that a sooty shearwater was approaching from behind the boat. As it drew closer, it turned away and headed back across the water, but not before giving everyone excellent views. Its dark, powerful appearance immediately set it apart from the more numerous Manx shearwaters, with long wings, deep wingbeats and sweeping glides as it powered low over the waves.

The sooty shearwater had been another highly anticipated species, particularly given its reputation as a scarce but regular visitor to the Cornish coast. Seeing one so well from the boat was a particularly welcome addition to the day.

We were treated to far more than just birds and dolphins, with two minke whales and a porbeagle shark also recorded. Unfortunately, I only managed to briefly see one of the whales, while the skipper called the shark but, despite everyone's efforts, none of us seemed able to work out exactly where it was in relation to the boat. Another reminder that, on a pelagic, wildlife can appear and disappear in seconds!

We moved positions a couple of times, trying to find the best area to attract the birds. Before long, we were treated to relatively close fly-bys from a couple of great shearwaters. The first was called at eleven o'clock and approached before passing down the port side, giving everyone some excellent views as it powered across the water.

These were considerably better views than I'd managed from the Scillonian ferry just a couple of days earlier, when the birds had remained much more distant and photography had been difficult. This time I had the opportunity to get some much better photographs, which was particularly satisfying as the great shearwater had been a lifer for me only a couple of days before. To go from distant record shots on the ferry to having decent images that I could share was a real bonus.

We continued to see storm petrels, most of them European storm petrels, but at least one looked likely to be a Wilson's. I spotted one approaching the boat from behind and called it at seven o'clock, although at that stage I couldn't tell which of the two species we were looking at.

As it came closer, the identification became clearer. The trailing legs and distinctive wing markings were visible as it skimmed low over the water, confirming it as a Wilson's storm petrel. Another lifer for me - and a particularly satisfying one to pick out for myself as it approached the boat.

The Wilson's storm petrel was another of the big targets for the day. A scarce but increasingly regular visitor to Cornish waters, it is a bird that spends almost all of its life far out over the Atlantic, making an encounter from a pelagic boat particularly special. Small and dark, with a contrasting pale rump and long wings, it flies low over the waves, skimming and banking across the surface with remarkable agility. Its habit of pattering its feet across the water as it feeds makes it especially distinctive, and the prospect of one appearing around the slick had everyone watching the waves intently. Unfortunately, they all flew through without settling around the boat, so I didn't get the opportunity to witness this behaviour for myself or see some of the other distinguishing features, such as the pale or yellowish webbing on the feet.

Although we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves, we had to keep one eye on the time. We still had to make it back to Penzance, and there was always the possibility that we'd encounter something else worth stopping for along the way.

Sure enough, we came across more rafts of seabirds, predominantly Manx shearwaters, when Kev picked out a sooty shearwater among them. We slowed the boat to a stop, allowing us to watch the bird as it cruised calmly on the surface among the Manixes. Eventually, it took to the air and disappeared as the surrounding Manx shearwaters were also disturbed and took to the wing, leaving us with another excellent view of this impressive species before continuing our journey back.

One of the birders we'd been chatting to mentioned that he had particularly been hoping to see a cory's shearwater, which made us realise that, despite all the seabirds we'd encountered, we hadn't seen one during the trip.

As we made our way back on the return journey, a call went up at three o'clock and a Cory's shearwater appeared in the distance. It was far from close, but it was still a great bird to encounter and a welcome addition to the day's list. I later congratulated the birder we'd been talking to, only for him to tell me that he'd been on the opposite side of the boat and had completely missed it. No! One of a number of frustrations of the new boat compared with the previous one - with birds able to appear on either side, being in the wrong position can mean missing out altogether.

We had started powering back towards Penzance when a feeding frenzy was spotted ahead. The skipper altered course to bring us closer, and suddenly the water was alive with activity - gannets were plunge-diving into the melee, while shearwaters, bonxies, gulls and other seabirds piled in to take advantage of the abundance of food, joining a pod of dolphins.

It was an amazing spectacle, with birds diving, chasing and wheeling around us as we slowly circled the area for another 20 minutes. Just when we thought the day was winding down, this unexpected feeding frenzy provided a spectacular finale to the pelagic.

One of the photographs taken by the Mermaid Cruises team and posted on their Facebook page, probably by Martin, captures the scene particularly well, showing both the dolphin and gannet action and giving a sense of just how hectic the feeding frenzy was.

Our pelagic trip certainly did not disappoint, delivering an impressive haul of wildlife. The final tally included 5 Wilson's storm petrels, 4 European storm petrels, 1,000+ Manx shearwaters, 6 sooty shearwaters, 1 Cory's shearwater and 25+ great shearwaters, along with 4 bonxies and 5+ juvenile yellow-legged gulls.

The seabirds were only part of the spectacle, with an ocean sunfish, 8+ harbour porpoises, 100+ common dolphins and 2 minke whales also recorded. An incredible selection of wildlife and a fitting reward for six hours spent out on the open Atlantic.

Year list: 279.

Northumberland :: 9-11 June 2026

With the breeding season underway and all the terns having returned to the UK, it was the perfect time to head to Northumberland to see the roseate terns on Coquet Island. Some previous attempts had been thwarted by the Covid pandemic, and on another occasion, we had visited too late and missed the puffins altogether.

This year, however, we arranged another trip with our friends Kev @kev07713 and Karen Heath @karenheath62, spending a couple of nights in the area and booking the Puffin Cruises Seabird Special 1½-hour trip, departing at 10.00am on the Wednesday morning. With rain forecast for later in the afternoon, the morning sailing promised ideal conditions and the opportunity for excellent views of the island's spectacular seabird colonies.

One of the keys to the trip's success was the timing, as Charlotte was especially keen to see puffins, one of her favourite birds. If we would be seeing those, all the other birdwatching would simply be a bonus and go off without a hitch.

We set off just before 6.00am for the journey north-east, making an early start to maximise our time in Northumberland. We stopped at a pre-arranged service station to meet up with Kev and Karen for breakfast, giving us the chance to catch up and discuss the plans for the next couple of days. After a short break, we were soon back on the road and heading towards Druridge Pools, eager to begin our birdwatching break.

Situated just north of Cresswell on the Druridge Bay coastline, the 24-hectare reserve is managed by Northumberland Wildlife Trust and is a remarkable conservation success story, having been transformed from a former opencast coal mine into a thriving wetland habitat.

The reserve consists of a large freshwater lake, shallow pools and wet grazing meadows, all linked by easy walking paths and a pair of bird hides. The varied habitats attract an impressive range of species throughout the year, with surrounding scrub and dunes providing additional habitat for passerines and migrants.

During migration, Druridge Pools regularly attracts scarce and rare birds, earning it a reputation as one of the North East's top birding hotspots. Species such as spoonbills, wood sandpipers, garganey and water pipits are regular visitors, while the reserve has produced an impressive list of rarities over the years.

Even without a rarity present, the reserve offered great wildlife watching. With the dunes and beach of Druridge Bay just a short walk away, it was an ideal place to spend a few hours exploring.

We drove along the access lane to the turning circle at the end and parked up, already enjoying sightings of stonechats, corn buntings, reed buntings, and several other species along the way. After leaving the car, we initially headed away from the pools, following the path alongside the surrounding farmland before eventually making our way back to explore the wet meadows and pools themselves.

From the first hide, we enjoyed a panoramic view across the reserve, where snipe, avocets, sand martins and redshanks were all on show. The pools also held a variety of geese and ducks, including a couple of lingering wigeon that were somewhat unexpected for the time of year, along with three barnacle geese adding to our growing list.

After an enjoyable spell at the first hide, we moved on to the second, which offers a more central view across the pools. Another birder was already there with his scope and told us that a garganey had been reported at the end of the reserve we had just left, although viewing conditions were said to be better from this hide. Despite a search, neither he nor we could locate the bird, and after a while he moved on.

The number of avocets increase as our wider vantage point revealed more of the shallow bays, while a couple of stunning summer-plumaged black-tailed godwits showed well through the scope. As we continued scanning, Kev picked out a pink-footed goose, another unexpected bird for the time of year, although it soon wandered behind a fence line and disappeared from view.

Three curlews were roosting against a stand of reeds, while a family of grey herons stood almost motionless along the far edge of the wetland. Kev continued to work his scope across the pools before calling me over to look at a gull he couldn't quite identify - at first glance it was asleep, but when it shifted position just off the water's edge amongst a gathering of mostly black-headed gulls, its identity became clear - it was a little gull, a welcome addition to the day's sightings.

Leaving the hide behind, we made our way down onto the beach where sandwich terns, herring gulls and gannets were feeding just offshore. The gannets repeatedly dropped in to join the gathering gulls on the water, but rather than performing their spectacular high-speed plunge dives, they simply lifted a metre or two above the surface before diving back in after their prey. A couple of cormorants were also feeding successfully nearby, although each time they or the gannets surfaced with a catch they were immediately mobbed by the ever-opportunistic gulls hoping to snatch an easy meal.

By now the sun was shining and the temperature was climbing, providing a welcome contrast to the cooler start to the day. While the girls relaxed on the rocks enjoying the warmth and the view, Kev and I continued scanning the sea, picking out guillemots as they flew low across the waves or sat feeding on the surface offshore.

By now we had racked up a respectable list of around 50 bird species, but with lunchtime passing by it felt like the right time to move on. With appetites beginning to grow, we packed up and headed for our next destination, Hauxley Nature Reserve, where we could enjoy a bite to eat before continuing our birdwatching. This is one of the jewels of the Northumberland coast and a site that has become one of the region's premier wildlife destinations. Managed by Northumberland Wildlife Trust, the reserve occupies land that was once part of an opencast coal mine before being transformed into a mosaic of freshwater pools, reedbeds, grassland and woodland. Today it attracts around 140 bird species each year, with its proximity to the coast adding even greater variety during migration and the winter months.

A well-maintained circular trail links a series of hides overlooking the pools, providing excellent opportunities to watch wildfowl, waders and passerines at close range. The reserve is also well known for breeding tree sparrows.

At the heart of the reserve sits the Hauxley Wildlife Discovery Centre, an award-winning eco-friendly building constructed using sustainable materials, including straw-bale walls. Large panoramic windows overlook the main lake, allowing visitors to enjoy the wildlife even while taking a break indoors. The centre also houses the popular Lookout Café, serving drinks, lunches and homemade cakes, together with a small gift shop and information area displaying the latest wildlife sightings. Entry to the reserve is free (donations accepted), with a very reasonable parking charge of just £2.

After enjoying a delicious lunch, we headed out onto the reserve, deciding to follow the circular path clockwise towards the Skua Hide before continuing to the Tern Hide. As we strolled along the trail, the calls of gulls and terns drifted through from the pools beyond the trees, although they were almost completely drowned out by the song of a willow warbler perched conspicuously on top of the hedgerow, as willow warblers so often seem to do.

Our first stop was the Skua Hide, where we found ourselves with the place entirely to ourselves. Several well-stocked feeders hung from a nearby pole, although they were strangely devoid of visitors. The reserve volunteers had told us that tree sparrows, tits and a variety of other small birds regularly frequented them, but on this occasion they remained quiet.

Despite its name, the Skua Hide offers only a narrow window onto the sea, making it difficult to pick out passing seabirds unless they happen to fly through the limited field of view. Even so, we managed to watch sandwich and common terns, along with what we believed were a few Arctic terns, while the occasional guillemot sped past offshore.

Pleasant though the watch was, we decided to continue around the reserve in the hope that other viewpoints would provide better and more prolonged views of the birds using the coastline and surrounding pools.

Reports from the previous day had mentioned five first-summer little gulls on the reserve, with as many as nine having been present a few days earlier. With that in mind, we stopped at a bench overlooking the pools to see if we could pick one out, although the sightings had come from a hide on the opposite side of the water.

As we scanned the pools, groups of terns, predominantly Arctic terns, passed back and forth overhead, with some flocks numbering a couple of dozen birds. While photographing one such group, I managed to capture what appears to be a first-summer Arctic tern, a pleasing bonus overlooking the pool.

We had only just started to continue our circuit of the reserve when a few spots of rain began to fall. Within minutes the shower intensified, sending us hurrying to the Tern Hide for shelter. No sooner had we settled inside than the rain turned to hailstones, rattling noisily against the roof and windows.

As the weather swept across the reserve, I watched the gulls huddled together on the far edge of the bay, doing their best to shelter from the sudden deluge. Then a tern came powering in and dropped down amongst them, seeking refuge from the worsening conditions. Something about it caught my eye, so I quickly trained my scope on the bird. To my delight, it was a roseate tern, one of my main target species for the trip and a very welcome addition to my year list.

The roseate tern is the UK's rarest breeding tern and one of its most sought-after seabirds. Elegant and pale, with a long forked tail, black cap and bill that can develop a red base in summer and a subtle rosy flush on the breast during the breeding season, it is often described as the most graceful of the terns. Today, most of the the UK's breeding population is concentrated on a single island: Coquet Island, close to here off the Northumberland coast. Intensive conservation work has transformed the island into an internationally important stronghold for the species.

Once the hailstorm had passed and the rain eased, the roseate tern flew to a nearby rock where it spent several minutes preening and drying its feathers. Eventually it took to the air again, circling gracefully over the pool before dropping onto the water for what appeared to be a quick wash and freshen up after the soaking it had endured.

After a few moments it lifted effortlessly from the surface and, as suddenly as it had appeared, powered away across the reserve and disappeared behind us.

The Arctic terns soon followed suit, with small groups of birds dropping onto the water to splash about and enjoy their own wash and brush-up after the passing storm. It was fascinating to watch their lively bathing behaviour and provided far better views than I had managed from the shoreline in Ayrshire a few weeks earlier, where the birds had remained much more distant and largely silhouetted against the sky. A lone female goosander stood at the water's edge and seemed to be one of the few birds that carried on regardless during the hailstorm, appearing completely unfazed as the icy shower swept across the reserve.

On arrival, we had been warned that the car park gates would be locked promptly at 5:30pm. With the clock now ticking past 5.00pm, we reluctantly began making our way back towards the visitor centre. As we passed through, we heard the distinctive chirping call of a tree sparrow and almost immediately spotted one perched on top of a nearby bush to our left. A couple more birds appeared, flitting between the surrounding shrubs and giving us some final views before we eventually packed away our binoculars and cameras and headed off to our hotel to check in. In the hotel cark park we found three more tree sparrows - so hard (or almost impossible) to see locally in Oxfordshire, but yet here in our car park!

The following morning we were up early, enjoyed breakfast and then set off for Amble Harbour to catch our boat for the eagerly anticipated trip around Coquet Island. Operated by Puffin Cruises, the family-run business has been taking visitors to the island since 1969 and offers one of the best opportunities to experience Northumberland's internationally important seabird colonies.

Coquet Island is one of the county's hidden gems. During the breeding season it teems with birdlife, while the island provides nesting sites for several hundred eider ducks. To protect this internationally important colony, the island is designated as a bird sanctuary and public landings are prohibited. Owned by the Duke of Northumberland since 1753, the island remains uninhabited throughout the winter, with seasonal wardens residing there during the breeding season to safeguard the nesting birds and monitor the colonies.

On arriving at Amble, we headed to the booking office pod in Amble Harbour Village to collect our tickets, joining several other passengers doing the same. We had initially been told that around 23 people had booked onto the Birdwatching Special sailing, but by departure time that number had grown to 32, still comfortably within today's imposed capacity of 35 passengers - usually more on other sailings.

While waiting to board, we passed the time watching sandwich terns patrolling the harbour, repeatedly plunge-diving into the water in pursuit of fish - a fitting prelude to what promised to be a superb morning of seabird watching, the weather predicted to stay dry until late lunchtime.

As we headed out across the water towards Coquet Island, sandwich terns were the first seabirds to accompany the boat, but as we drew closer, they were increasingly outnumbered by Arctic terns, their elegant flight and piercing calls adding to the excitement of the approach. Common guillemots were also much in evidence, with birds both resting on the sea and flying low over the water as they commuted to and from fishing spots.

As we approached the island, I found myself eagerly scanning for roseate terns, knowing that this would probably be my only remaining opportunity to see this tern species during our short break. The breeding season is still in full swing, so the final census for this year had yet to be completed, but the colony has enjoyed a remarkable recovery in recent years. Last summer, 144 breeding pairs nested on Coquet Island, the third-highest total ever recorded and a significant rebound following the devastating impacts of bird-flu during 2022 and 2023.

Our first encounter involved the roseate terns hanging out around the boxes on shelves on the slope down to the water. While the roseate terns nested peacefully in their small, tightly packed colonies, there was still plenty of activity and the occasional dispute as neighbouring birds defended their territories. Brief skirmishes would break out as one bird ventured too close to another's nest site, with much calling, wing-flapping and aerial chasing before order was quickly restored and the colony settled once more.

We began circling the concrete landing pier and, on the far side, were rewarded with superb views of a couple of roseate terns quietly resting. It was the perfect opportunity for photographs, although as I lined up my shots another birder had edged slightly in front of me. Fortunately, he was a little shorter, allowing me to shoot over the top of him for the most part, though I have to admit that the occasional pan of the camera resulted in my lens touching his head/cap!

The pier itself held much larger numbers of Arctic terns, with birds lining the concrete - others wheeled overhead or arrived carrying small fish, creating a constant flurry of activity.

I turned my attention to the puffins, and where Charlotte's had been all the time - this is what she'd come to see. Coquet Island is home to one of England's largest puffin colonies, with an estimated 18,000 breeding pairs returning each spring to nest in burrows across the island. Although no official count has yet been published for the 2026 breeding season, the island remains one of the country's premier locations for seeing these charismatic seabirds at close quarters. We noticed that the greatest concentrations were around the northern end of the island, where hundreds could be seen standing at their burrow entrances, or flying in with sand eels for their chicks.

Despite their comical appearance on land, puffins are exceptional swimmers and divers, using their wings to "fly" underwater in pursuit of fish, often reaching depths of 30–60 metres. During the breeding season, the birds sport their familiar bright orange feet and colourful triangular bills. Once breeding is over, they shed the brightly coloured outer plates of the bill, leaving a much duller appearance through the winter. I hope these photographs do justice to just how colourful these charismatic little clowns really are.

Other species were also much in evidence, and we spent time scanning the shoreline and rocky ledges, picking out eiders, goosanders, rock pipits, fulmars and kittiwakes. The island supports a small breeding colony of fulmars. Around 50 pairs nest on the island's rocky ledges and cliffs, their stiff-winged gliding flight and tube-shaped nostrils making them instantly recognisable as members of the petrel family rather than true gulls.

Other tern species were also very much in evidence, with sandwich and common terns perched on the rocks or wheeling out across the water. Last season saw a record 2,282 breeding pairs of sandwich terns, the highest count ever recorded on the island, alongside 536 breeding pairs of common terns, up from 353 pairs the previous year as both species continue their recovery following the impacts of bird flu.

The boat sailed around the island and gave us views of the kittiwakes, on rocks but predominantly nesting on the cliffs. The most recent published figures indicate there are approximately 150 breeding pairs on the island - a relatively small but stable colony, especially compared with the island’s massive tern populations. Kittiwakes nest mainly on cliff-like structures and suitable ledges around the island, often alongside fulmars, taking advantage of the same exposed nesting areas.

Although not traditionally a breeding species here, razorbills have recently begun to establish themselves on Coquet Island, with the first successful fledging recorded in 2025 and small numbers now being seen around the rocky edges of the reserve. Once pointed out they were easy to see in small pockets, and occasionally heading out across the water. Razorbills are cliff-nesting auks that usually breed on steep, rocky sea cliffs with deep crevices or ledges. Coquet Island is relatively low-lying and flat, with only limited rocky edges, so there has traditionally been very little natural nesting space for them. Their recent appearance suggests a combination of population redistribution and changing local conditions, allowing a small number of birds to experiment with breeding here.

We eventually approached the area with the highest density of grey seals that continued to take an interest in the boat, popping up their heads and watching us as we watched them. They do not breed on Coquet Island itself due to the heavy seabird activity and lack of suitable undisturbed haul-out beaches. The rich tidal waters around the island, particularly where sand eels and other small fish are abundant, make it a good feeding ground, so seals are often encountered during boat approaches.

The Northumberland coast supports several thousand grey seals in total, with the main haul-out sites found at places such as the Farne Islands. Even so, seeing them here at such close range felt special.

Eventually it was time to head back to the harbour, where we stopped for lunch while starting to plan our next outing. After some discussion, we decided that a visit to Long Nanny would be the obvious choice. It had several things in its favour: our friend Nick always mentions there asking whether we’ve seen the American black tern (which we haven’t yet managed to do); it holds a large Arctic tern colony, with birds nesting at close range; and it also supports a little tern colony, a species I had yet to see this year, making it an easy decision.

We made our way from Amble towards Long Nanny, passing through areas where it looked as though rain had already fallen - perhaps we had managed to dodge the worst of the showers. However, as we pulled into the car park, a torrential downpour began, which we were thankfully able to avoid by remaining in the cars.

A few walkers were already out on the reserve and had clearly been caught in it, including one couple who eventually found shelter beneath a tree, and another pair with nowhere to hide who simply had to endure the full force of the storm but at least they were dressed for it.

The Long Nanny Nature Reserve lies on the North Northumberland coast between Beadnell and Newton, where the Long Nanny Burn meets the sea. It is a nationally important coastal site managed for its breeding seabirds, set within a landscape of dunes, sandy beach and a small tidal estuary. The area is carefully managed, with fenced nesting zones and on-site wardening to protect birds from disturbance. A key feature of Long Nanny is the close viewing experience - visitors can watch the colony from a designated viewpoint near the warden’s hut, where birds can be seen feeding, displaying and ferrying fish just offshore. The American black tern is also currently nesting by the warden's hut.

Once the rain had eased, we layered up and got our kit ready in case another shower swept through, then set off on the roughly 1km walk towards the warden’s hut. Along the way we picked up stonechats, meadow pipits and skylarks, before eventually beginning to see flocks of terns gathering along the beach ahead.

On arrival at the warden’s hut we found a volunteer already in position, scope trained on the little tern colony further along the shore. The nesting area lies beyond here, within a clearly marked roped-off cordon designed to protect the breeding birds from disturbance.

The National Trust manages Long Nanny and provides the most authoritative population counts for the site. It has reported that Arctic terns reached a peak of around 2,800 breeding pairs in 2018, although numbers can fall to nearer 1,000 pairs in poorer seasons. The little tern colony is much smaller, typically numbering around 30–60 breeding pairs.

Although we were enjoying bright spells of sunshine, darker rain showers could be seen all around the horizon, and we tried to work out which way the weather was tracking across the coast.

In the meantime, we located the area where the American black tern had been nest sitting and all managed to get good views of it before turning our attention through the scope to the little tern colony within the protected nesting zone. Kev and I then returned our focus to the American black tern, only to see an Arctic tern suddenly drop in and take over incubation duties, prompting the black tern to vacate the nest and head off up the coast, quickly disappearing from view.

Since around 2020–2021, this adult bird in breeding plumage has been observed repeatedly at the site in Northumberland. It has become something of a “regular”, often remaining through the breeding season and feeding among the colony of terns along the beach. This is unusual behaviour for the species in Britain and has attracted considerable attention from visiting birders. Originally assumed to be a male, it was initially nicknamed George, but when it began showing breeding behaviour, the name was informally updated to Georgina.

With the black tern still absent, we turned our attention to the Arctic terns, some of which nest remarkably close to the designated viewing area, with others further along the beach nearer the little tern colony. The Arctic and little terns repeatedly erupted from the colony in swirling flocks, wheeling and calling as they climbed into the air before circling overhead and eventually settling again, either on their original nest sites or out along the shoreline. Even the birds nesting directly in front of us would occasionally join in, lifting off with sharp calls and then announcing their return just as loudly as they came back to the ground.

One particularly bold Arctic tern seemed remarkably unfazed by our presence, regularly fluttering overhead before landing on the warden’s hut and, increasingly, on a post that marked the boundary between the viewing area and the dunes - at times less than four feet from where we were standing. On one occasion it was noticeably more vocal than usual during its visit, prompting me to take a short video on my phone. What exactly it was trying to communicate, I have no idea - though perhaps I spent too much of my youth watching Lassie and Skippy the Bush Kangaroo.

Down on the beach and across the nesting area we were able to pick out little terns among the much larger numbers of Arctic terns. They are superb little birds, and I hope to get the chance later in the year for closer views, particularly when they are fishing along the shoreline, perhaps at Lymington (Pennington & Normandy Marsh).

Our luck then ran out and a period of heavy rain set in, forcing us to take shelter under umbrellas while we watched the terns hunker down and ride out the downpour. It lasted for some time, but eventually the rain eased and we returned to waiting for the American black tern to reappear - what exactly had she said when she left? - “I’m just nipping down the shops and will be back soon”? She had, in any case, been gone rather a while ...

Our patience eventually paid off as we watched her approach and land, only for her to be airborne again within a minute. She circled over this section of the dunes before being mobbed and chased off by some of the resident Arctic terns, eventually dropping back down to land on the beach.

Eventually she returned to the nest, where she and the Arctic tern appeared to exchange a few words over where she'd been. Whatever was said seemed to satisfy him, as he soon took to the air, leaving her to resume duties while he enjoyed a well-earned bit of "me time".

We eventually made our way back towards the car, with another heavy shower catching us enroute and giving the umbrellas another useful outing for five or ten minutes. Along the path we encountered a group of young lads being led by a couple of instructors, who explained that they were completing their Bronze Duke of Edinburgh's Award exercise. Having been out for around five hours, they looked thoroughly soaked and weary and couldn't wait to reach the minibus that was due to collect them from the car park. Whoever had arranged the pickup had clearly timed it well, as the vehicle had not been there when we left.

By the time we reached the car, the rain had stopped and the sun had reappeared, making for a much more pleasant drive back to Amble. There we enjoyed a delicious evening meal at The Boathouse before returning to the hotel to round off the day with a couple of well-earned drinks.

The following morning, Kev and I headed off to Northumberlandia while the girls enjoyed a well-deserved lie-in. Several quails had reportedly been calling there in recent days, and we felt it was worth trying our luck.

On arriving in the car park, however, the first thing to catch our attention wasn't a bird at all but a large milk vending machine standing beside the entrance to the Lady of the North. Operated by Moobile Milk, the self-service machine dispenses fresh whole milk along with a selection of rotating milkshake flavours, such as strawberry, chocolate and banana, all produced using locally sourced dairy. Visitors can bring their own bottle or cup, or purchase a reusable glass bottle on site. It was certainly something neither of us had come across before and an unexpected sight in a country park car park.

Consulting our OS map, we worked out the best route to the area where the most recent quail reports had come from and set off across the reserve. Along the way we encountered lapwings, avocets, geese and lots of brown hares, while skylarks seemed to be everywhere, their songs filling the air as they hovered high above the surrounding fields.

We spent some time along the route and at the spot from which the quails had most recently been reported, standing quietly and listening for their distinctive calls, but despite our efforts we came away empty-handed. A kestrel drifted effortlessly across the fields, while the number of brown hares continued to rise - we had counted more than 30 by this point. Scanning the surrounding farmland, we eventually picked out a pair of grey partridges feeding on a distant hillside alongside a small group of woodpigeons, little more than specks without the aid of our optics.

We eventually turned back towards the car, pausing for improved views of adult avocets feeding in the pools. As we watched, Kev picked out two tiny avocet chicks busily feeding in the shallows, a delightful sight and a fitting way to round off our visit.

We skipped breakfast at the hotel and instead headed back to Hauxley Nature Reserve, planning to enjoy a late brunch before spending a final few hours on the reserve. The forecast suggested the weather would deteriorate, and before we had even reached the Tern Hide the first spots of rain began to fall. A warden passing in the opposite direction jokingly questioned whether we were heading the right way as the showers intensified.

As we neared the hide, the rain grew heavier, but through it we could hear the distinctive reeling song of a grasshopper warbler from the dip beyond the path. While Charlotte and Karen continued to the shelter of the hide, Kev and I stayed outside in an attempt to locate the calling warbler. Despite our efforts, the only bird we managed to see was a sedge warbler.

After lingering in the rain for a while longer, we finally admitted defeat and joined the others in the hide, turning our attention to the terns and gulls gathered around the pools. Arctic, sandwich and common terns were all present, but one Arctic tern immediately caught our eye. It appeared noticeably smaller than the surrounding adults, with black legs, a predominantly dark bill, a pronounced carpal bar and a patchy head pattern, all suggesting it was a first-summer bird. Around it, other Arctic terns came and went, many returning with small fish for their mates or chicks.

Once the rain had eased a little, Kev and I ventured back outside to see if we could finally track down the grasshopper warbler. As before, we were greeted first by its distinctive reeling song, which at least gave us a good indication of where to concentrate our search. Patiently scanning the bushes, we eventually caught sight of the bird as it worked its way through the vegetation. It briefly dropped onto a tangle of thicker branches that initially obscured our view, but after a few moments it shuffled into a more open position, rewarding us with a welcome and unobstructed look before disappearing back into cover.

We returned to the café for a well-earned coffee and cake before it was time for Charlotte and I to begin our journey home. After saying our goodbyes, we set off on the long drive south, arriving back with just enough time for a good night's sleep before heading out to our pickleball session at 8.45am the following morning.

Year list: 263.