Winter birding on the North Yorkshire coast – Part three – wave-dodgers
Having looked at waders and wildfowl in parts one and two, Mark James Pearson's third and final guide to the birds of our coast in winter turns to a disperate band of species holidaying along our shores in the off season, from Guillemots to Gannets and all points inbetween.
Look out from pretty much anywhere along the North Yorkshire coast this winter, and you're sure to come across a variety of birdlife out on the open waves. Some may be seaducks (as covered in part two), but many will doubtless involve a select band of other species that frequent our bays, harbours and shores during the coldest months.
From Guillemots to Gannets, via grebes, divers, Shags and more – and not forgetting the archetypal seasiders, the gulls – a rich and varied cast are in attendance, and these wintry, often unproductive days of diminishing returns provide the ideal opportunity to seek them out.
Numbers of many of the birds described here vary from year to year, depending on various factors - including weather conditions here and elsewhere, and crucially, the availability and abundance of food. For most of these species, fish play a fundamental role in their presence (and indeed survival) along our coast, and generally speaking, wherever the food is, so too are our
birds.
Many share common adaptations for maximising their chances of a successful catch, the most obvious of which is a long, pointed bill. In the case of Shags and Cormorants, these are slightly hooked; in the case of divers, grebes, Gannets and Guillemots, they're tapered to a sharp tip.
With practice and decent views, most can be identified easily, and there's nowhere better to get up close and personal with a variety of the species in question than Scarborough harbour. On a good day, Red-throated Diver, Great Crested Grebe, Shag and Cormorant could all be alongside each
other and within a few metres of the harbour wall; on a lucky day, there could be a Great Northern or a Black-throated Diver, or a Red-necked or Slavonian Grebe......
Other sheltered coves, bays and favoured stretches of coast can be just as productive – Filey Brigg and Bay, Scarborough's North and South Bays, Cayton Bay and Long Nab are all well-known havens for ocean-bound winter visitors, and there's no reason why any other chosen spot shouldn't turn up the goods.
Cormorant and Shag
Of all the birds out on the water at this time of year, Cormorant and Shag are the two most likely. These closely related species are a common sight along our coast, and share many similarities – an all-dark (often blackish) plumage, long, thin, hooked bills, a sleek, low carriage in the water, and a powerful, direct flight action.
Cormorants, the larger and bulkier of the two, also have a proportionately larger head and thicker bill than the more delicate, sleeker Shag. Adults of both also sport distinctive crests – think blow-dried for Cormorant, rockabilly for Shag – and they're often quite approachable, even resting on seawalls and slipways as well as on the open water.
Divers
Divers share a similarly low carriage when swimming, as well as long, slim necks and a generally elongated appearance. All three Divers which occur regularly along the Yorkshire coast share dark upperparts (from crown to tail) and pale underparts (from chin to under-tail), giving a distinctive two-toned impression, and all have long, pointed bills.
By far the commonest is the Red-throated Diver, which is very fond of the Yorkshire coast as a winter home, and in good years may appear in some numbers. It's also the smallest and palest overall, with a beady eye against a pale face and a distinctly upturned bill.
Great Northern Divers are much scarcer, and are an altogether more imposing presence, from their overall size to their thicker, dagger-like bill. They do, however, appear along our coast every winter in variable numbers, and in some years birds may spend the whole season in a favoured bay.
Black-throated Divers are scarcer still, and fit neatly between the two in terms of size and proportions (and hence require great care in picking out). All three divers breed on fresh water lakes in Northern Europe, where their breeding plumages make them some of the most beautfully turned-out species in our part of the world. (Not so much in their winter dress, but you can't have
everything.)
Grebes
Likewise stunning in the breeding season, grebes are similarly a somewhat more subtle proposition in the winter. They also exhibit a two-tone (dark above, pale below) winter plumage, and have long, pointed bills, but the differences generally end there.
The grebes appear much more contrasting (effectively black and white), exacerbated by a noticeably 'capped' appearance, apparent even at range; their bills are also proportionately shorter, and their profile is chunkier and less flattened, giving a rounder impression overall.
Although usually best known as a familiar breeding bird of inland lakes, by far the commonest is the Great Crested Grebe. Like Red-throated Divers, good numbers can congregate in favoured locations during some winters; even in quiet years, there's normally a good scattering along the
coast.
The two much scarcer grebes, much coveted by coastal birders in the winter, are Red-necked and Slavonian. Both occur in very small numbers each winter, and sometimes find one of our key locations to their liking for a more protracted stay – once again, the bays of Scarborough and
Filey (and the former's harbour) are always worth checking.
Gannet, Guillemot and Razorbill
Three species synonymous with the 'seabird cities' of Bempton and Filey reappear in smaller numbers during the winter months. Although the vast majority of 'our' Gannets, Guillemots and Razorbills are still many miles offshore during the winter, lesser numbers of all three are
usually loitering offshore, with some venturing back onto the cliffs, however temporarily.
All three are also generally easy to identify, but it's worth becoming familiar with winter plumages of the Guillemots and Razorbills (paler around the face) and the non-adult plumages of Gannets (variable amounts of darker colouration, decreasing with age).
Fulmar
Another cliff-nester with a penchant for hanging around during the off season is the effortlessly graceful Fulmar. With a similar colour scheme (white head and underparts, grey upperparts) they can be superficially confused with gulls, but Fulmars are in reality our pint-size Albatrosses; they belong to the same family and share many similarities, most obviously a stiff-winged, elegant and shearing flight-style, low over the waves or at head-height along the cliff-top.
Arctic populations have an increasing proportion of smoky-plumaged birds, known as Blue Fulmars, and during the winter especially, sea-watchers are alert to these exotic northern fly-bys amongst their paler southern counterparts. All forms share a large, dark eye, accentuated by a
darker surround (like slightly smeared mascara), creating a soft expression, even at some distance.
Gulls
Gulls are undoubtedly the most familiar presence at any time of year here on the coast. The term seagull is of course a generic catch-all for any number of coastal gull species, and while several do breed locally, winter is the best time to compare them all side by side. Numbers swell with the arrival of birds from the continent, sensibly spending the coldest months in our milder and more forgiving environment.
From the smallest upwards, Black-headed Gulls are dainty, opportunistic seasiders (usually being the first to take us up on our offer of a free lunch); their dark ear-covert smudges – like a pair of ear-phones – are usually the only clue to the presence of the brown hoods of their summer plumage (although look out for odd ones moulting in their chocolate ). Winter sees the arrival of many thousands to our coast, and they can be found at almost any point along it, especially where the pickings are fruitful.
The next size bracket up includes two non-breeding visitors, Common and Mediterranean Gulls. Common Gulls occur pretty much anywhere along the coastal strip, and their dark grey upperparts, black and white wing tips and (in winter) streaked head pattern often lead to confusion with Herring Gulls (see below).
Commons are an altogether smaller and slighter bird however, with a proportionally larger dark eye and more rounded head, giving a distinctly more kindly impression. Now is a perfect time to catch up with them, as numbers reach their peak in the mid to late winter.
Mediterranean Gulls, meanwhile, are a welcome and prized addition to the winter cast. Once a genuine rarity, these delightfully ghostly gulls have become steadily more frequent in our area, in recent years, but are no less thrilling nonetheless; with luck, you could potentially find one anywhere amongst groups of Black-headed and Common Gulls, and flocks of both are always worth scanning for their rarer cousin.
However, for those of a lazier disposition, we're fortunate to have ahandful of wintering Meds which have traditionally taken a liking to Holbeck car park on Scarborough's south side. Roll down your window and don't forget your Mother's Pride.
The default large gull on the North Yorks coast (all year round, but even more so in winter) is the Herring Gull. Like all large gulls, they exhibit a confusing array of plumages – from the subtle brown spangling of juveniles to the bold grey and white (with black in the wingtips) of adults, and care needs to be taken to seperate youngsters from similar, but less numerous, Lesser Black-backed Gulls.
The latter species is however easy to find in older plumages, with slate-grey upperparts in place of the Herring Gull's rather paler hue. Contrary to the impression created by the bustling gatherings at our harbours and bays, populations of both are declining alarmingly, partly due to overfishing and the subsequent collapse of the industry in the North Sea.
The largest and most imposing of our winter Larids is the Great Black-backed Gull. Scarce along our coast outside of the coldest months but easy to find presently, Great Black-backs are the sledgehammer in the tool-kit; brutish, quietly omnipotent and even given a wide-berth by otherwise swaggering Herring Gulls.
Finally, the coldest months bring the promise of much rarer visitors from further north. Two species, collectively known as white-wingers (on account of their strikingly pale, bleached-out wing tones, lacking any dark tips) are highly sought by resilient birders in the dead of winter, with each appearing in very small numbers every year in roughly equal measure.
Iceland Gulls (actually from Greenland) are the smaller and slightly less brutish, while Glaucous Gulls (actually from Iceland – welcome to the world of idiosyncratic nomenclature) are a little larger, more angular and aggressive-looking: again, care is needed in seperating the two, and gulls in general are an inherently challenging (but ultimately rewarding) bunch.
Finding either white-winged gull following a fishing boat or loafing on a local beach always quickens the pulse, and the promise of either can be just enough reason to spend a little while longer out on the windswept coast in the dead of winter.