Bird reserves

 Hilbre Island

 

I’m not really one for visiting bird reserves but Annette is a keen birder so as a good husband I go along. I will readily admit we have had some amazing and memorable visits although I’ve also spent plenty of time in bird hides wondering what I’m looking at. One memorable visit was entirely unofficial. We were not even members at the time  of the RSPB, the main birders organisation and owner of many reserves.

This visit was to Hilbre Island. This is a small island near the mouth of the Dee estuary It is uninhabited except occasionally in the summer by researchers. The key is that at low tide the sea recedes entirely from the island and it is possible to walk out from the nearest coast at West Kirby on the Wirral. There is window of a few hours between tides when this is possible.

I say walk out but this isn’t a totally simple operation as there are areas of soft sand where one can become stuck. We went with Malcolm and Jenny. Malcolm was a fellow research student with an interest in birds and wild life. I can’t recall now whether Jenny was his wife or simply his fiancée at the time. He married her later. Guided by him we chose a suitable tide break and set off. Our route followed the tracks of a Land-Rover taking supplies to the reserve researcher on the island. We thought this would be the safe route although my memory is that  was straightforward until the final few hundred yards.

The Land-Rover route took us by the small islet just to the south of Hilbre known as Little Eye and then across to the island. It was a fine day and a fairly enjoyable walk albeit rather featureless. I remember the Welsh coast seemed little nearer than when we had set out.

Earlier we had a flat at Parkgate on the Dee estuary. Walking out from there was much more treacherous with the occasional deep channel which had to be crossed even at low tide. Although the upper Dee reaches were silted up ( Chester was once a port ) and presented a vast expanse of coarse grasses there was a mini sandy beach by the main river channel which was fickle appearing sometimes and not others. When it did appear locals visited to sunbathe.

I don’t recall that we saw anything on Hilbre other than the routine black backed gulls perhaps some herring gulls and guillemots. But I suppose the achievement was to reach the reserve not to see anything special. The island just consists of tussocky grass with one simple shelter- nothing is more than a few metres above high tide. As I recall we didn’t stay long; we were conscious of trespass and also the tide rushing back in. We retraced our steps and I half recall we finished up in a pub. The crossing took about an hour at a steady pace but it left some sense of achievement..

Bempton Cliffs

This RSPB reserve is on the east coast north of Hull. As the name suggests it is a site of high cliffs where many sea birds nest. Although the reserve is of interest for the cliffs the immediately adjacent area inland is part of the reserve.

On our first visit on a fine summers day the inland grass was short, it may have been grazed. Walking to the cliffs from the entrance it was a delight to hear larks singing as  they hovered overhead.. Sadly larks are now quite rare in the country. My mother always said her favourite song was from the skylark.

60 years ago larks were more usual. I well remember as a young boy lying on my back in a pasture and watching a lark hovering in the sky and filling the air with its melodious song.

There was an almost brutal transition from pasture to by the cliffs. The cliffs shield the inland area which are quiet. In contrast from the edge of the cliffs there is a loud raucous cacophony as many hundred of seabirds fly around leaving or returning to their nest sites on the cliffs. The birds are mainly gannets with some puffin, razorbill and others. The cliffs are whitish, mainly chalk, hundreds of feet high, and with lots of ledges suitable for nests. The cliffs extend for miles in either direction and the reserve must cover perhaps a mile of them. There are viewing areas which look right down on the nest sites only yards away.

There is an air of constant restless movement. One has the impression every possible site has been occupied. All the time the loud cries of the birds drown out any other sound from inland in fact you need to speak loudly to be heard.

No subsequent visit was as magical with lark song. The grass has been allowed to grow and is now a couple of feet high except for tracks cut for visitors.