British Sea Birds

by Charles Dixon

RAZORBILL.

This bird, the Alca torda of Linnæus and ornithologists generally, is widely confused with the Common Guillemot, and many local names refer indiscriminately to each—such as Murre, Marrot, and Diver. It is readily distinguished from the Guillemots by its much deeper bill, crossed by a white line at its centre, and by a narrow yet very conspicuous white stripe, extending from the base of the bill to the eye. Otherwise, the Razorbill closely resembles the Guillemot in appearance, both in its summer and winter plumage. It is widely distributed round the British coasts, breeding in most situations where the cliffs are sufficiently suitable, but is much less abundant in the south, and is nowhere, perhaps, so numerous as the Guillemot. During the non-breeding season it becomes more generally scattered, and may then be met with, although ever sparingly, in the seas round most parts of the British coastline. Its actions in the water are almost precisely the same as those of the Guillemot. Like that bird it may be seen swimming to and fro, sitting highly and lightly on the water, often permitting a very close approach, especially in districts where it is not much harassed by the shooter. It dives with the same marvellous celerity as the Guillemot, pursuing its prey through the water, often at a considerable depth, as readily as the swallows chase an insect through the air. It is a very pretty sight to watch the Razorbill in quest of food. This may often be done from the summits of the cliffs, but certainly to better advantage from a boat, in which the birds can be more closely approached, and consequently better observed. A Razorbill in the water is a remarkably striking, if not an actually pretty bird. He sits so lightly, riding buoyantly as a cork on the swell, turning his head from side to side as the boat approaches, swimming rapidly before it, and often nonchalantly dipping his head into the water and throwing a shower over his upper plumage. The boat comes too near at last, and the bird, with a scarcely audible or perceptible splash, disappears into the water. Several moments afterwards he rises again to the right or left, ahead or astern, and the salt spray rolls off his plumage glinting like diamonds in the sun. Should fish be plentiful the birds are diving and rising again incessantly, the time of absence depending upon the depth descended or the length of the chase. The Razorbill ever seems to use its wings with reluctance on these occasions, always keeping out of harm’s way by diving or swimming. It is capable of rapid flight though, and may often be seen in strings or skeins, hastening along just above the waves to or from a favourite fishing place. The Razorbill is gregarious enough during summer, but in winter it is most frequently seen in small parties, or often alone. It also goes some distance from land, where, should a gale overtake it, great numbers often perish, as their dead bodies washed up on the coast sadly testify. The food of the Razorbill is largely composed of fry, especially of the herring, but many other small fishes are captured, together with crustaceans and other small marine creatures. The bird, so far as my experience extends, never seeks its food upon the shore, and obtains most, if not all, of it by diving. The Razorbill is a remarkably silent bird; the only sound I have ever heard it utter has been a low grunting. This note is uttered both in summer and winter, on the rocks as well as on the sea.

In May the Razorbill gives up its roaming, nomad life upon the sea, and collects in numbers at the old-accustomed breeding-places. These are situated on the ocean cliffs, such as contain plenty of nooks and crannies being preferred to those of a more wall-like character. It is possibly due to this that the Razorbill’s colonies are never so crowded as those of the Guillemot, and that the birds are more scattered along the coastline. There can be little doubt that the Razorbill pairs for life. As a proof of this I have known a Puffin burrow resorted to yearly, whilst eggs possessing certain peculiarities of form and colour have repeatedly been taken from one nook in the cliffs, years and years in succession. Like the Guillemot the Razorbill makes no nest, but lays its single egg in a crevice or hole in the cliffs, or far under stacks of rock, poised one upon another, where to reach it is an utter impossibility. Like most birds that breed in such situations, the Razorbill is much more loth to quit its egg than the Guillemot, often remaining upon it until captured. When alarmed by man the birds may be heard scrambling amongst the crevices, and uttering their grunting cries of remonstrance.

The single egg of the Razorbill, though not displaying a tithe of the variety observed in that of the Guillemot, is a remarkably handsome object. The ground colour varies through every tint between white and reddish-brown, and the handsome large blotches and spots are dark liver-brown, reddish-brown, gray, or grayish-brown. No shade of green or blue is ever apparent upon them externally, but the shells, when held up to the light, have the interior of a clear pea-green tint—a character which readily serves to distinguish them from such eggs of the Guillemot that resemble them in external colour. If the first egg be taken the bird will lay another, and this process may be repeated several times, but on no occasion is more than one chick reared in the season. It is said that the young of this species remain upon the cliffs for a much longer period than the chicks of the Guillemot, and that they eventually fly or flutter down to the sea, never revisiting the rocks. The parent will sometimes dive with its offspring, just as the Little Grebe will do.