British Sea Birds

CHAPTER VI.

PETRELS

Of all sea-birds, the Petrels are the most pelagic. They are the birds of the wide ocean, even showing small partiality for narrow seas, and chiefly frequenting for breeding purposes only such spots as face the widest expanses of water. They are the most marine of birds, yet they form one of the least apparent features in the bird-life of the sea, and more especially when that bird-life is studied from the coast. Their crepuscular, or nocturnal, habits during their short visits to the land to breed, their sombre hues, their low flight, just above the waves, all combine in rendering these birds exceptionally difficult of observation. The Petrels present such exclusively distinctive characters that many systematists relegate them to an order by themselves. This order is termed Tubinares, because the birds contained in it have the nostrils tubular – a character which serves, at a glance, to distinguish a Petrel from all other species. Other external characters are their hooked beak, webbed feet, and long wings. More than a hundred species of Petrels are known to science, which are dispersed throughout the seas and oceans of the world. The young, as far as is known, are hatched covered with down, but they remain in the nest until capable of flight. These birds moult once in the year. None of the species are very remarkable for bright colouration, although, in some, the colours – brown, black, gray, and white – are strongly contrasted. Several species of Petrel wander occasionally to the British seas, but only four species breed within our area, and of these we now propose to treat.

This Petrel, the Fulmarus glacialis of ornithologists, is very like a small gull in appearance, and is one of the largest representatives of its family in the northern hemisphere. Although it abounds in various parts of the British seas, and was said by Darwin to be the most numerous bird in the world, so oceanic is it in its habits, that the wanderer by the shore might not catch a glimpse of a single example during the course of an entire year. Perhaps this Petrel is more frequently observed off our eastern coasts than anywhere else, except in the vicinity of its breeding place; it is often caught in the flight-nets on the Wash, and is said to be a common frequenter of the deep-sea fishing grounds in the North Sea. Occasionally storm-driven birds may be met with close inshore. The Fulmar Petrel is one of the most familiar birds of high latitudes, following in the wake of whaling vessels and sealers, and known to the sailors by the name of “Molly Mawk.” In its actions above the sea, the Fulmar very closely resembles a Gull, beating about in the same dilatory manner, and searching for any food chancing to float upon the surface, following in the wake of vessels for miles to pick up the scraps thrown overboard. Its usual food, however, appears to be cuttlefish and sorrel. It is also very partial to whale blubber. It often alights upon the sea, either to rest or sleep, or to eat its food; whilst its flight is not only powerful, but capable of being sustained for long periods. When searching for food, this bird flies close to the waves, every now and then gliding along with wings nearly motionless, maintaining its speed with a few vigorous beats from time to time.

The Fulmar Petrel becomes by far the most interesting at its breeding stations. These, however, are isolated and few. In the British area there is only one important nesting place of this species, and that is at St. Kilda – a group of rocky turf-covered islets, that form an ideal haunt for every species of Petrel that frequents the British seas, or even a considerable portion of the North Atlantic. A fortnight’s sojourn on St. Kilda has made me familiar with many of the Fulmar’s habits during the breeding season. It is the bird of all others characteristic of the place; one is reminded of its presence in many ways, but most persistently by the strong smell emitted by this and all birds of the Petrel family, and which scents everything and every person on the islands. The Fulmar is extremely gregarious during the breeding season, and many thousands of birds congregate here during the summer. It is also exceedingly attached to its breeding places, visiting them season by season, for time out of mind, and very probably pairs for life. At St. Kilda, its favourite nesting places are on the downlike cliffs, places where the soil is deep and loamy, and allows the bird to excavate a hollow of varying depth. But there is not sufficient accommodation of this kind for all, and great numbers have to resort to the ledges, crevices, and hollows on the face of the beetling cliffs, or find a site in some cranny amongst the rough piled-up masses of rock. Wherever possible, the Fulmar evidently likes to burrow into the ground, but the hole in most cases is not big enough to conceal the bird. These hollows are lined with a little dry grass, but in many instances a nest of no kind is made. Some of the nests I examined on the bare ledges of the cliffs, were made of small bits of rock. Vast numbers of nests are made close together, and from a distance the sitting birds – all blended together – look like patches of snow. The Fulmar lays but a single egg each season, white in colour, rough and chalky in texture, and with a strong pungent smell, which is retained by the shell for years after the egg has been taken. This egg is laid in May.

There are few more stirring sights in the bird world, than a colony of Fulmars. Time can never efface the vivid scene that was presented to me, as for the first time I peered over the mighty cliff Connacher, and viewed the countless hosts of Fulmars at their nesting-places. Just before the summit was reached, a few Fulmars could be seen flying above the cliff, then dropping behind the ridge out of sight. When I got to the top and looked over, the scene became grand, imposing, indescribable. The suddenness of it all was well-nigh overpowering. One moment, not a bird to be seen; the next, countless thousands of drifting birds flying about in all directions along the face of the cliffs, passing to and fro, backwards and forwards, like snow-flakes in a gentle breeze, far as the eye could follow them! All the Fulmars drifted to and fro in silence; not a single bird uttered a cry. No bird flies more gracefully than this Petrel; it seems to float in the air without effort, often passing to and fro for minutes together without perceptibly moving its wings. They are remarkably tame and confiding birds, flying past one at arm’s-length, the bright-black eye contrasting strongly with the snowy plumage. When disturbed by the firing of a gun, the Fulmars and other sea-birds leave the rocks in masses so dense, that one is apt to think the entire face of the cliffs is crumbling away. Large numbers of Fulmars are snared by the natives, and upwards of 20,000 young birds are killed every season at St. Kilda, which, after the fat and oil are extracted from them, are salted and kept for food. When caught, the Fulmar vomits a quantity of clear amber-coloured oil, and a little flows from the nostrils. During the Fulmar harvest in autumn, the birds, as they are taken, are made to vomit this oil into dried gullets of the Gannet, which the fowler carries for the purpose hung round his waist. This oil is valued as a sheep dressing, and is said to be a sovereign remedy for rheumatism. The typical race of the Fulmar is an inhabitant of the North Atlantic basin, ranging southwards in winter as low as the latitude of New York in the west, and Gibraltar in the east.

A year after this species was first described by Vieillot, under the name of Procellaria leucorhoa, it was discovered at St. Kilda by Bullock. This was early in the present century, but the islands, known collectively by that name, still continue to be its most famous breeding place in our area, or even in Europe. Three years after its discovery, it was rechristened P. leachi by the French naturalist Temminck, a name which has found favour with many writers. The Fork-tailed Petrel is known to breed on North Rona, and at some other spots in the Outer Hebrides, as well as on the Blaskets off the coast of Kerry. There can be little doubt that many other breeding stations of this Petrel remain to be discovered. This species, readily distinguished from the Stormy Petrel by its larger size and deeply-forked tail, is rarely seen near the land unless during the breeding season, or when driven thence by boisterous weather. I have known it to be caught in the flight-nets on the mud-banks of the Wash; whilst it is of tolerably frequent occurrence elsewhere off our eastern and southern coasts. In its habits generally it very closely resembles its better known ally, the Stormy Petrel. During the non-breeding season it wanders vast distances from land, sleeping and resting on the sea when tired, following ships for miles, fluttering along close to the ocean, now down into the trough of the wave, anon skimming over the crest to half-fly, half-run, with patting feet, down the smooth surface of the next. Except during the breeding season this Petrel is not very gregarious; it may often be seen in parties of perhaps half-a-dozen, scattered over a considerable surface of water. The exact nature of the food of this species is apparently unknown. It is said, in a vague and general way, to feed on crustaceans and small molluscs, and the scraps of refuse cast from passing vessels, but birds which I have dissected contained similar substances to those found in the Fulmar – a nearly clear oil, mingled with the jaws of cuttlefish, and scraps of sorrel.

The Fork-tailed Petrel resorts to its breeding stations to nest in June. Although gregarious during this period, its colonies are never so large as those of the Fulmar. Most probably the bird pairs for life, and returns season by season to certain spots to rear its young. The largest colony of this Petrel known to me is at St. Kilda. Here its principal colony is located on the island of Soay, but there is another and smaller one on Doon, and doubtless others on Borreay. At the colony on Doon, the ground was full of long, winding burrows, probably disused nesting holes of Puffins and Shearwaters, and in these the Fork-tailed Petrels had made their nests – in some cases one earth accommodating several pairs of birds. Usually the selected burrows are in the loamy soil near the summit of the cliffs; but, in some cases, the birds will select a hole, or crevice, in ruined masonry, or in rocks. At the end of the burrow, or crevice, a scanty nest of dry grass is formed, but in some cases no provision whatever is made. Here the female deposits a single egg, white, with a zone of dust-like brown specks round the larger end. These eggs are remarkably fragile, and very chalky in texture. The Fork-tailed Petrel is a close sitter, remaining brooding over its egg until dragged out. Many nests may be found within an area of a few yards. This Petrel is not seen abroad much at its breeding places during daylight; all day long the little birds skulk in their burrows, but with the approach of night, they begin to sally forth from their retreats and nests, and their fluttering forms may be seen flitting to and fro in the deepening gloom, backwards and forwards, to and from the sea. The Fork-tailed Petrel is not a very noisy bird. Those that I dragged from their nests uttered a few squeaking notes; but at night the species becomes more garrulous. But three breeding stations of this Petrel are known – one in the North Pacific, another in the Bay of Fundy, and the third within the British area. Its migrations are limited.

This diminutive species, the Procellaria pelagica of Linnæus and most modern writers, and the “Mother Carey’s Chicken” of mariners, is, perhaps, the best known of the Petrels that frequent the British seas. It is remarkable for being the smallest web-footed bird – a nearly black little creature, with a white patch on the upper tail coverts. Small as this Petrel is, it is just as oceanic in its haunts as its larger and more robust congeners. During boisterous weather, especially about the period of the equinoctial gales in autumn, Stormy Petrels are not unfrequently driven some distance inland; and examples of this species have been picked up more or less exhausted, even in the centre of busy towns. At this season it is also noticed a good deal about certain lighthouses at night. After rough nights I have seen odd Stormy Petrels flying over the fishermen’s cottages like swallows, and many of them are, or used to be, caught in the flight-nets in the Wash. The actions of this Petrel at sea are characteristic of its congeners. It flies about in the same fluttering manner, following the curves of the waves, and pattering along their sloping surfaces with its tiny-webbed feet. It may be met with hundreds of miles from land, following ships, or paying a vessel a short visit, then disappearing again, lost in the lonely wastes of water. It is able to weather many a storm at sea, doubtless obtaining much shelter in the deep hollows of the mighty waves. It may be seen flitting about the storm-stirred sea quite at its ease; and from this fact, it is very popularly believed to be a harbinger of bad weather, and disliked accordingly by sailors. Except during the breeding season, the Stormy Petrel rarely visits the land; it rests and sleeps upon the sea, swimming just as buoyantly as a Duck. It is seldom seen to alight, however, unless to pick up some morsel of food, and rarely remains long upon the water. At its breeding stations it is certainly very nocturnal in its habits, but otherwise it may be seen at all hours of the day fluttering above the sea. Its food probably consists almost entirely of cuttlefish; I have dissected many specimens of this Petrel, and never found anything but oil mixed with sorrel in the stomach. When taken in the hand the bird usually throws up a drop of this oil, or squirts a little from the nostrils, just as the larger Fork-tailed Petrel will do. I have never heard the Stormy Petrel utter a sound, except at the breeding stations, where its note is a noisy twitter. It is more or less gregarious at all times of the year, and generally roams the sea in small scattered parties, but its gatherings are most extensive at certain of its breeding stations.

It is a difficult matter to specify, with any degree of exactness, the breeding stations of such a secretive species as the Stormy Petrel. It may breed for years in a place, and the fact never become known. A specially interesting instance of this has lately occurred within my own experience. Lundy Island has long been thought to be the most easterly breeding station of the Stormy Petrel in England, but all the time, for aught we know to the contrary, it has regularly nested on the Big Rock in Tor Bay, where, during last season (1895), a young bird was taken, and is now preserved in the Torquay Natural History Society’s Museum. The egg had been taken here several years ago, with the parent bird; the latest nest owed its discovery to the acuteness of a dog, attracted by the strong smell emitted by this Petrel. Here then was the Stormy Petrel breeding actually within sight of my front windows, and I giving Lundy Island and the Scilly Islands as its only nesting places in the vicinity! I have seen this Petrel on the whiting grounds outside Tor Bay, and Manx Shearwaters, too, during summer; but where they breed is another matter, so skulking and secretive are their movements near and on the land. So far as is known, there is no breeding-place of the Stormy Petrel on the entire eastern coast-line of England and Scotland. The German Ocean is a land-locked sea, and it is more than probable the Stormy Petrel breeds nowhere on its coasts; but that its nesting-places extend far up the English Channel – much further east than Tor Bay – there can be little doubt. There are many known breeding-places of this Petrel from the Scilly Islands northwards, along the west coast of England, Wales, and Scotland to the Shetlands, and many others round the coasts of Ireland. The favourite breeding haunts of the Stormy Petrel are rocky islands, rising in uneven turf-clad downs, strewn with masses of rock and stones. The bird probably pairs for life, and is more or less gregarious at its breeding-places. The slight nest of dry grass is placed in an old rabbit earth or Puffin burrow, under a rock or heap of loose stones, or in ruins, and amongst masonry. In some cases no nest whatever is made. The single egg is laid normally in June. This is pure white in ground colour, with a faint zone of minute dust-like red specks round the larger end. Like all its kindred, the Stormy Petrel is a close sitter, remaining in its hole until dragged out. It is also crepuscular in its habits at its nesting-places, becoming lively at dusk, when it may be seen flitting to and from the sea in a silent bat-like manner. So far as is known, the breeding area of the Stormy Petrel is exclusively confined to the islands and coasts of the East Atlantic.

The Shearwaters are a well-defined group of Petrels, numbering twenty or more species, distinguished by their long, slender bill, long wings, and short tails. As the Fulmars bear a superficial resemblance to the Gulls, so may the Shearwaters be compared with the Auks. Four of these birds are known to visit the British seas and coasts, but only one of them, the Manx Shearwater, Puffinus anglorum, is known to breed within our limits, and to occur in any abundance. The upper parts of this Shearwater are black, the lower parts white. The Manx Shearwater is, so far as is known, a resident in the British seas, and widely distributed along our coasts during the season of reproduction. Like its allies, the Petrels, this Shearwater is closely attached to the open sea, living for the most part away from shore, and only frequenting land during its nesting period. Its flight is much more erratic and rapid than that of the small Petrels, or the Gull-like Fulmar, and reminds one more of the Swift. It may be seen dashing impetuously along close above the waves, this way and that, one moment high above the horizon, the next deep down in the trough of the billows, pausing here and there for a moment with rapid beating wings, legs let down, and feet striking the water, to pick up some scrap of food. During the breeding season it is for the most part nocturnal in its habits, but at other times it seems to be abroad both by day and night. That it can swim well and buoyantly, I know from abundant experience, but whether it dives, as some writers assert, I am not prepared to say. Some Petrels, however, are habitually known to do so, as, for instance, the species composing the genus Halodroma. Shearwaters delight in a rough sea and a brewing storm, every bit as much as the smaller Petrels; no weather seems too boisterous for them. When on our rough night voyage to St. Kilda, we must have passed hundreds of Shearwaters, holding high carnival above the gray waters, flitting round our vessel in weird, erratic flight, like bird ghosts, their gambols in the gloom being most interesting. So far as my experience extends, the food of the Manx Shearwater consists entirely of cuttle-fish and sorrel, but the bird will pick up various scraps thrown from vessels. At St. Kilda this Shearwater is regarded as a delicacy. The natives also obtain quantities of oil from it.

Throughout the summer the Manx Shearwater is nocturnal, and at the approach of darkness becomes very garrulous. Its note may be expressed as kitty-coo-roo, uttered two or three times in succession, and then a pause. So far as I could determine, this note is never uttered by the bird at sea, only when flying about its breeding station, or in or near its burrow, and is only heard at night. At St. Kilda the island of Soay is the grand breeding place of this Shearwater. The St. Kildans visit this island at times during the breeding season, going at night, knocking down the birds as they flutter about, and dragging others from their nests. Four hundred Shearwaters are sometimes slain thus in a single night.

The Manx Shearwater is a somewhat late breeder, its eggs being laid towards the end of May, or during the first half of June. There are no known breeding places of this bird along the eastern coast line of Scotland and England; nor have any yet been discovered on the south coast of England, although I am positive the species nests in the South Hams of Devon. Its breeding area, so far as it is known, is almost precisely the same as that of the Stormy Petrel. Its favourite nesting-places are islands with a good ocean aspect, covered with turf and soft, loamy soil. Although gregarious during this period, many scattered pairs breed here and there along the coast. The bird probably pairs for life, returning year by year to a favourite nesting-place. It usually excavates a long and often winding burrow, making a slight nest of dry grass at the end, on which is laid a single white egg. Both birds assist in making this burrow, which often runs under some mass of rocks, and many holes are begun and deserted for no apparent reason, just as we find to be the case with the Sand Martin and other hole-boring species. At the entrance of all of the holes that are occupied there is a considerable heap of droppings. Few, if any, Shearwaters are astir even at a populous breeding-station during the day; all keep closely to their burrows, remaining stolidly upon their nest until dragged forth, struggling, into the light. Many burrows are made close together, and in some cases one main entrance will lead to several chambers, each containing a nest.

CHAPTER VII.

LITTORAL LAND BIRDS

Our survey of marine ornithology can scarcely be considered complete without a brief allusion to the various land birds that reside upon the coast. Many of these birds are, perhaps, most closely associated with inland districts, but others are just as essentially marine. Some of these species constantly reside by the sea, others are but found there during the bright summer days, whilst others yet again appear during autumn and winter only. Be the shore low sand or marshy slob-land, buttressed by precipitous cliffs, or fringed with rocky beaches and open downs, certain land birds form decided features in the scene, some of them very widely and very generally dispersed. In some cases these species show us how very readily birds can adapt themselves to their surroundings, or reconcile themselves to circumstances, finding as congenial a home on the seaboard as in the woods or fields, or even cities of the interior.

Half a century ago this fine bird, the Haliaetus albicilla of ornithologists, was very generally distributed round our northern coasts; in earlier years than that it bred in certain parts of England, possibly on most of our highest headlands. Trap, gun, and poison have done their sad work only too well, and now the White-tailed Eagle is banished almost entirely from the land. The birds that still survive are mostly confined to the Hebrides, to the wild waste of islands and sea along the western seaboard of Scotland. Occasionally stray birds are noticed, during autumn and winter, on the coast of England, but these are almost invariably immature individuals on their migration south. The White-tailed Eagle almost exclusively frequents maritime districts, where it may be seen at a vast height soaring on never-tiring wing, or standing on some rock pinnacle. It preys upon every bird or animal that it is able to capture – newly-dropped lambs and fawns, hares, rabbits, grouse, and waterfowl. But its favourite fare, perhaps, is carrion – stranded fish and other garbage on the shore, dead sheep, and so on. This Eagle makes its eyrie on some stupendous ocean cliff, and, as the birds pair for life, the spot is occupied years in succession. The nest is a huge pile of sticks and branches, lined with dry grass, wool, and other soft material. The two eggs, laid in March or April, are white. This Eagle may be distinguished from the Golden Eagle by its bare tarsi. The note is a yelping or barking cry. Outside our limits, this bird is found in the northern portions of Europe and Asia, from the Atlantic to the Pacific.