Lindisfarne

The three people who most influenced my life long passion for wildlife were my Dad, Peter Scott and Richard Perry. My Dad of course started it all when I was little more than a toddler, but not by buying me a pair of binoculars because actually he didn't, we shared binoculars until I was about 16. No, it was more to do with the way in which he loved wildlife that influenced me.  He wasn't really interested in seeing any one species, it was the overall spectacle that he enjoyed. He could quite happily walk out on a saltmarsh without binoculars because it was the wild, wide open spaces that he loved, with skeins of geese flying over as curlew and redshank called all around and wigeon flew up whistling as a harrier quartered the marsh. He also liked to experience all of this alone, feeling that he couldn't connect properly if he was distracted by others. Needless to say he didn't do twitches or bird watching groups, he'd rather be out on the marsh all day with not another person in sight.

Peter Scott was probably the nearest my Dad had to a hero. They'd both served in the second World War in the navy on MTB's (Motor Torpedo Boats) and Peter Scott's paintings perfectly captured the landscape view that my Dad had of nature, with the emphasis very much on evocative scenes rather than the individual bird. To my Dad he was a kindred spirit and in my youth Peter Scott's books were on the bookshelf and his paintings on the wall and they heavily influenced my view of wildlife.

At some point in my mid-teens my Dad gave me a copy of "At the turn of the tide" by Richard Perry a highly evocative book about coastal and in particular saltmarsh birds, and this book reinforced my love of wild places. The close proximity of Martin Mere allowed me to see many of these species close up and the nearby Ribble and Dee estuaries allowed me to experience the wild landscapes that my Dad loved so much. This was all neatly tied together by the fact that Peter Scott was head of the Wildfowl Trust, the organisation which owned and managed Martin Mere. I was a member of the Wildfowl Trust many years before I joined the RSPB.

Little wonder then that I grew up loving wildfowl and waders in wide open places and even though I turned out a slightly more sociable creature than my Dad, still I prefer to be alone and if I do go on twitches I tend to pick and choose depending on where the place is.

It was another of Richard Perry's books that first led me to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne in the early 1980s. "A Naturalist on Lindisfarne" was published in 1946 and is an account of the birds that he saw during his time on the island in the 1930s and early 1940s.

The pale-bellied brent geese which winter in Ireland and western parts of the UK including Hilbre and Anglesey, breed in Arctic Canada. On the south and east coast of the UK the wintering flocks of brent geese are dark-bellied birds from Arctic Russia. The birds which winter on Lindisfarne are pale-bellied birds from a third population which breeds on Svalbard (formerly Spitzbergen). Lindisfarne is in fact the only regular wintering place in the UK for this population of brent geese. 

According to Ian Kerr in his book "The Birds of Holy Island", in the nineteenth century the wintering flock of brents on Lindisfarne was predominantly pale-bellied and usually numbered around 6000 birds. However, by Perry's time in the first half of the 20th century this had changed due to hunting on their breeding grounds which had caused the pale-bellied birds to decline and the brents on Lindisfarne, were now almost exclusively of the dark-bellied race, numbering 2-3000 birds. Since the 1950s a further change has taken place and following a recovery of the Svalbard population, the majority of brents currently wintering at Lindisfarne are again of the pale-bellied race and typically number around 3000 birds. Dark-bellied birds now only occur in very small numbers. 

Why the dark-bellied race should apparently increase and then decline almost in tandem with the fortunes of the pale-bellied birds I'm not sure. It would almost seem like the pale-bellied birds were out competing them, but it may just be a coincidence. Whatever the reason, these geese were the main reason why I wanted to visit Holy Island today.

In total I saw about 1500 brents today and they're just a wonderful sight and sound. Their enigmatic "r'rot, r'rot, r'rot" calls are the background music to a visit to any east coast saltmarsh. I could watch these birds all day today and tomorrow, and I can well understand why my Dad wanted to be alone in these wild places.

The view from the causeway looking south across the Swad shortly after sunrise. A fabulous place to observe waders, often very close, and today these included good numbers of redshank, oystercatchers, curlew and ringed plover, as well as grey plover and bar-tailed godwits.

Situated just offshore at the south east end of Lindisfarne is a much smaller island which used to go by the name of Hobthrush Island. It was here during the seventh century that St. Cuthbert decided to live the life of a hermit before realising that he needed somewhere even more remote and moved to Inner Farne. The island has since been renamed St. Cuthberts Island. Like Lindisfarne itself, it's a tidal island which you can walk out to at low tide.

Fittingly these are St. Cuthberts ducks, Eiders.

I love the way eiders walk in such an upright manner! This is a 1st winter drake.

Upside down boats are a feature of Lindisfarne. They're old herring boats converted into sheds. 

If you get cut off by the tide, this is where you can sit it out and watch as your car slowly disappears under the water.

Pilgrims way, the old route across the Swad, the mudflats between here and the mainland.

The ruin of Lindisfarne priory.

Pale-bellied brent geese on the Swad, with the sand dunes of the Snook behind.

There are not many finer views than this, anywhere in the UK, looking from Stag Rocks towards Bamburgh castle. I came here  after I left Lindisfarne hoping to see a black scoter that has wintered here for the past few years but unfortunately I couldn't pick it out from the distant scoter flocks. Probably still there but it was too dull and windy to have much chance at that distance. However I did see a third winter Mediterranean gull as well as several purple sandpipers and a fly past red-throated diver, so not a bad return. The black scoter was seen before I got there, but ultimately I think that I spent too much time watching the brents to have much chance of seeing the scoter.