200k Manx

The 'insert image' tool is still disabled regardless of my efforts to correct it, so until the fault rectifies itself (which apparently it can do) my blog posts will have to do without images to brighten up an otherwise unbroken sea of words. To be honest that doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would, as this blogging lark has always been more about the words to me - just as well with the current situation. So, where was I?...

Ah yes, there was going to be a post about my recent long holiday in Cornwall. What started as a two-week family holiday became one of three-and-a-half weeks, due to a happy set of circumstances that you needn't be bothered with. It was very much a family holiday, but as usual I took along the optics (and the camera, which is being made largely redundant as far as blogging is concerned, although if you follow me on X, WhatsApp or even that quiet place for the more elderly - Facebook - you will still see the results of my automatic point-and-shoot camera work.

So, between July 6-31 we were based in Porth, a small beach town to the east of Newquay. It is positioned in the crook of a sharp turn in the coastline, which runs due south from Trevose Head before turning sharply south-west. I spent most of my time along the coastal footpath between Porth and Porthcothan (maybe eight miles long) with the odd foray to the Gannel Estuary and Crantock. It is all rather charming.

Ornithologically, the highlight was without doubt the almost daily offshore feeding movements of Manx Shearwaters. They would always arrive from the north and veer off south-west when coming level with Porth, but this may only be true for the birds close enough inshore for me to see. This stream could be fairly close in, but would just as regularly be far out, the depth of the stream also varying. There was no knowing when a day would be busy or quiet, so my 06.00hrs arrival at Porth headland was made on an almost daily basis (just a two minute stroll from where we were staying). In fact, I could easily seawatch from the garden, but preferred the bit of height afforded by the tip of the promontory. On most days of movement it was largely over by 09.30hrs. Over the two weeks I saw just under 200,000 Manx Shearwaters, with highest morning totals of 24,500 (10th), 47,000 (22nd), 54,500 (23rd) and 33,000 (28th). Being a lapsed south-east of England sea watcher, such numbers (especially those of shearwaters) was completely novel and at times overwhelming. Of course I couldn't count each and every one, especially when I could see that birds were passing in the near, mid and far distance all at the same time. I had to do timed counts (over a minute) or even a second! After a while it became second nature to estimate the numbers and as to whether or not the stream was lessening - or increasing - in number. It was exhilarating to witness. And questions came flowing! Was there some duplication of the birds that I saw from day to day? Where were the coming from? Where were they going? Did they swirl around the Cornish peninsula or would they be off to Biscay? How long would they be away from their breeding burrows? Were there summering non-breeders among their number? I need to read up on it all...

Even though fairly good counts of larger shearwaters were being made at the same time down at the tip of Cornwall, I only managed to pick up a single Cory's, and also a single Sooty. There was a bit of extra excitement provided by a pod three White-beaked Dolphins and several sightings of Common Dolphins. Choughs were a daily accompaniment to our time here, with up to seven haunting the cliffs between here and Porthcothan, birds even being seen flying over Newquay town. And where there were Choughs, there were Ravens as well. Corn Buntings are a scarce bird in Cornwall, and in past years I had seen them with no effort at all just north of Porth in the set-aside fields at Whipsiderry, but this summer I failed despite much searching. So it was a relief to locate a couple of pairs a bit further north. Early signs of autumn were apparent with a couple of out of range Sedge Warblers lurking in cliff top gullies and small mixed hirundine flocks moving urgently south.

I was taken by the habitat around Bre-Pen and Park Head, open vistas that I know are good for vis-mig, with accompanying wet corners, weedy fields and alluring hedgerows, all screaming out for migrant birds to stay awhile, especially rare ones! It is all under watched, with the small gang of birders who do cover it being rewarded for their efforts. It is easy to be lured back, with the 'promise' of a few avian jewels awaiting discovery. As I mentioned earlier, this was not a birding trip, and nor was it one to spend much time searching for plants, although I was lucky enough to find the prostrate form of Dyer's Greenweed on Park Down, along with the scarce alien Greek Sea-spurrey. Butterfly numbers were poor.

We left just as the number of holiday makers started to swell, but it was so easy to get away from the crowds, who seem to be allergic to any footpath and would rather stay on a sandy beach. I would get up high above them, look down upon the throng from the cliff top and then turn my head away, warmed by the sun, cooled by a gentle breeze and take in the calls of Choughs and Ravens. There is room for us all in this corner of England.