The Mighty Cliffs of Bempton

The ocean cliffs of Bempton, a small little place in Yorkshire, serve, at the appropriate time of year, as a breeding ground (and rock) for several species of birds.

Guillemots and a gull thing

You have, of course, your seagulls, and kittiwakes, which are just a kind of seagull maybe a little less beady-eyed than the usuals, and fulmars which are far prettier according to the pictures I found on google. You get guillemots, which are shaped a little like penguins but fly a lot better, and you certainly get gannets, big loud demanding things, that seemed almost at odds to me on these English cliffs, I so associate them with Clifton in Hawke's Bay. You get razor bills, a black and white bird of the auk family with amazing sleekness, and another auk that, if you're lucky, if you're there at the right time and have mad-skillz, you'll get to see the pick of the pack.

This fine bird goes commonly by "puffin," more specifically "Atlantic puffin" (there are three different kinds; the other two are crap), and even more specifically Fratercula arctica. This year, the puffins were late. Usually they start to be seen on the cliffs from April, but there had been few sightings listed, and those mostly in flight or out on the water.

I arrived back in York from Scotland to find the most incredible day. It was sunny, and so warm I had to remove several garments. Everything had sprouted and bloomed in my absence. The next day, the day of Bempton, it rained. But it was all right, as I believe it kept some of the odour of the cliffs down low.

Razor bill buddies

The cliffs themselves are impressive formations, and looked quite impressive with the rain swirling around and the fog and cloud close over the ocean. The cliffs were drowning in gannets and gulls as much as anything, and also guillemots. I found the guillemots unimpressive, although it was amusing to watch them fly, as their wings seem very short and are shaped more for swimming, it seemed, than for flight. The razor bills I liked a great deal. Their colouring is very monochromatic and very precise, with not a single line coloured over, and the feathers all sleek as though they were shaped from a more solid and smooth substance. Their beaks and wings have perfect white lines across them.

Whilst looking through borrowed binoculars at the cliffs, I saw the razor bills and the guilleys, and gannets, and puffins - and I stopped. There were two of them tucked up together in a little crevice between the main cliff face and a jutting raise of rock. I felt proud to be able to point them out to the group next to me, who hadn't yet seen a single puffin, and delighted when further along someone else was able to point one out to me. And so I went on a right scouting mission, up and down the cliffs, pulling my jacket hood over my head when it began to rain quite hard before clearing up a little again.

Spot the puffins

Puffin: "used as a symbol for books and other items," as described on the RSPB website

Not a puffin

I saw at least ten individuals, and several more out on the water. I didn't hear any - their call is, from audio records I've heard, quite entertaining - but I saw them, and it was capital. I think that, with the pictures, is enough about that. I hope you all get to see your own puffins one day.

I will leave you with this highly witty song I made up to celebrate:

Puffins, wherever you may be, 

I am the Lord of the Auks, said she, 

And I'll see you all, wherever you may be. 

I am the Lord of the Puffins said she.