British Sea Birds

by Charles Dixon

There are certain other Limicoline birds found upon our coasts, more or less frequently, which at least deserve some passing notice; but as they are species that are merely fleeting visitors during their annual migrations, and never occur in sufficient number to form a dominant feature in the bird-life of the shore, they do not call for any lengthened description, or minute study, in a work which seeks only to sketch the more enduring avine characteristics of the British seaboard. We will deal with the commonest species first. During the period of its migrations, the Common Sandpiper, or Summer Snipe (Totanus hypoleucus) is a pretty frequent visitor to the coast, especially in the south-western parts of England; and there is strong reason to believe that a limited number may pass the winter thereon. Its habits on the shore are very similar to those of the other Limicoline species. It breeds commonly by the side of our inland waters, and is certainly, as its name implies, the most abundant and the most widely dispersed of the British waders. Another fairly regular and frequent visitor to the British littoral in spring and autumn is the Greenshank (Totanus glottis). It is most often met with on the low-lying eastern coasts; but it is said a few birds winter in Ireland. The Greenshank breeds very locally in Scotland, and is best known to us at its more or less inland nesting stations. It may be distinguished by its white lower back and central upper tail coverts, and nearly uniform gray secondaries. Of even rarer and more local appearance is the Wood Sandpiper (Totanus glareola), sometimes met with in small parties on our eastern and southern coasts; whilst the Green Sandpiper (Totanus ochropus) is a less frequent visitor still. This species is remarkable for its peculiar mode of nesting, for instead of laying its eggs upon the ground—as is the almost universal custom of birds of this order—it places them in the deserted nests of other birds in trees. We must also not forget to give a passing reference to the singular-looking Ruff (Machetes pugnax). Drainage of the fens has long banished the Ruff from its ancestral haunts, where it was once so common that a regular trade was carried on in netting and fattening it for the table. The Ruff takes it name from the singular, yet remarkably beautiful, frill of elongated feathers that, during the love season, adorns the neck of the male bird. The extraordinary variation in the colour of this fleeting sexual ornament can only be described as marvellous, it being almost impossible to find two birds exactly alike. This sexual development of feather ornament seems closely associated with the polygamous habits of the Ruff; the cock bird takes no share in family duties, and during the pairing season wages endless battles with his rivals for the possession of the hens. Odd birds frequent our coasts during the migration periods, and less frequently during the winter. Two species of Stint—the most diminutive of the Sandpipers—also deserve a brief allusion. The first and most frequent visitor is the Little Stint (Tringa minuta), most numerous on its autumn passage south. It is chiefly seen on the eastern coast-line, but is a visitor to the Solway district. The Little Stint breeds in the Arctic regions of Europe and West Siberia, and is a late migrant in spring, seldom seen in any numbers on our coasts before May. It frequents, whilst with us, mud-flats, salt-marshes, and long reaches of sand, and often joins the Dunlins in quest of food. Its stay with us is brief, especially in spring, and even in autumn most have gone away before October. It may be distinguished by its small size (wing under 4 inches in length), tapering bill, and black legs and feet. The second species, Temminck’s Stint (Tringa temmincki), is a larger bird than the foregoing, and readily distinguished from all other Tringæ by its white outer tail feathers. It is much rarer in its appearance, too, and, as usual, most frequent on the low-lying eastern coast-line; even this district is beyond the more general limits of its migrations. It is also not so maritime in its haunts, and seems to migrate along more inland routes.

Guillemots, Razorbill, and Puffin

GUILLEMOT AND RAZORBILL. Chapter iii.

CHAPTER III.
GUILLEMOTS, RAZORBILL, AND PUFFIN.

Affinities and Characteristics—Changes of Plumage—Guillemot—Brunnich’s Guillemot—Black Guillemot—Razorbill—Little Auk—Puffin.

Few birds are more thoroughly marine in their haunts and their habits than those which are included in the present chapter. They are inseparably associated with the sea; they form one of the most interesting features of marine life, whether in summer, when they crowd in countless hosts at their breeding stations upon the cliffs and islands, or in winter, when they spread themselves far and wide over the waste of waters. From whatever point of view we study them, they are intensely interesting birds.

The Auks, as they are collectively termed, form the small yet well-defined family Alcidæ. Although the Auks are a specialised group, systematists pretty generally agree in associating them more or less closely with the Divers, the Grebes, the Gulls, and the Limicolæ. Auks are web-footed birds, with no hind toe, with the legs placed far back, and the bill subject to great variation in size, and in some species presenting considerable change in appearance according to season. All the Auks have comparatively short and narrow wings; in the recently extinct Great Auk these were incapable of supporting the bird in the air; and the tail is remarkably short, in some species being scarcely perceptible under ordinary circumstances. The Auks are exclusively confined to the north temperate and polar regions of the Northern Hemisphere: and by far the greater number of species inhabit the Northern Pacific. They number some thirty species. The prevailing colours of the Auks are black and white; none of them are showy birds; but some species are remarkable for their eccentric nuptial plumes, and for the brilliancy of colour of the bill. The Auks are thoroughly aquatic, and not adapted in any way for a terrestrial existence. They swim well, dive with marvellous skill, and save during the incubation period, pass most of their time on the sea. None of the species are remarkable for any great migration flights; as a rule they wander little from their high northern homes. They are all gregarious birds, breeding in companies wherever possible. Some species undergo but little change in their appearance between summer or winter plumage; others are more remarkable in this respect. During the breeding period some species resort to lofty cliffs washed by the sea; others burrow into the ground. Many species make no nest whatever, but others form slight structures in which to deposit their eggs. The young of the Auks are hatched covered with down, assuming their first plumage in a few weeks. Adult Auks moult in September; the difference in the colour of the plumage peculiar to the pairing season, apparently being entirely due to a change in the hue quite irrespective of a moult. The complete change from white to brownish-black observed prior to the breeding season on the necks and heads of Guillemots and Razorbills is very curious and interesting. According to the observations of Herr Gätke, the shafts of the feathers are the first portions in which the black appears; yet almost at the same time this colour is seen in the form of minute specks on the lower third of the feathers, quickly spreading into crescentic markings, and ultimately covering the entire surface. Half a dozen species are British. Of these, four breed more or less abundantly in our area, and the other two are irregular winter visitors. The now extinct Great Auk—the largest known representative of the family—formerly bred in certain parts of the British Islands, but, alas, is now only known as a fast receding tradition. We will now proceed to a short study of these British Auks.

GUILLEMOT.

Of all the various sea birds that cluster on the cliffs of Albion this species, the Uria troile of most modern ornithologists, is by far the commonest, and of the present family of birds the most widely distributed. During summer it may be met with in colonies of varying numbers, here and there on most of our rocky coasts, from the Scilly Islands to the Shetlands, from Flamborough Head in the east to the Blaskets in the west. Not, perhaps, so familiar to the sea-side wanderer as the Gull, whose ærial habits bring it more frequently into notice, the Guillemot, nevertheless, is a seldom absent feature of marine bird life. It is gregarious and social at all times, but joins into greatest companies during the season of reproduction. When the nesting season has passed the birds spread themselves more generally along the coast and out at sea, and it is at such times that they are most ubiquitous. Between October and March the Guillemot may often be met with swimming close in shore, in quiet bays, and especially in the neighbourhood of fishing villages. On these occasions it is not particularly shy, and will allow a sufficiently close scrutiny, but it is ever wary, diving at the least alarm, and appearing again well out of danger. The Guillemot swims well and buoyantly; it also dives with remarkable agility, and obtains most of its food whilst doing so. The Guillemots are rarely seen upon the land after the young have quitted their birthplaces; they spend their entire time upon the sea, seeking shelter during rough weather in bays or under the lee of headlands, but not unfrequently great numbers perish in a gale, their dead bodies strewing the coast where the tide has cast them ashore. Except during the breeding season the Guillemot flies very little, but during that period it often feeds far from its rocky haunts, and may then be seen, especially at eventide, flying in little bunches, or in compact flocks, swiftly and silently just above the waves, returning to them. The food of this bird is almost exclusively composed of fish, especially such small species as pilchards and sprats; it is also extremely partial to the fry of the herring and the pollack. Few birds are more expert at catching fish than the Guillemot; it dives after them, and chases them beneath the surface with marvellous speed and unerring certainty. In this chase of fish it sometimes comes to grief by getting entangled in the drift-nets. The Guillemot is a remarkably silent bird. I have repeatedly been amongst thousands of these birds, both at sea and on the rock stacks where they breed, and the only sound I have ever heard them utter is a low, grunting noise. My experience has been chiefly confined to the earlier part of the breeding season, and the autumn and winter months. It would appear, though, that when the young are partly grown the birds become more noisy, for Gätke describes their cries at the breeding-stations as a “confused noise of a thousand voices, the calls of the parent birds—arr-r-r-r, orr-r-r-r, err-r-r-r, and mingled with these the countless tiny voices of their young offspring on the face of the cliff—irr-r-r-idd, irr-r-r-idd—uttered in timid and anxious accents.” I should here remark that the Guillemot never flies over the land, never flies inland from the rocks, but always when disturbed unerringly makes for the sea, which is almost, if not quite, as much its element as the air.