Rathlin Island Rookery

Yesterday, we sailed to Rathlin, an island in Northern Ireland. When we arrived, Mama ran off to see about visiting a bird sanctuary. We caught the last bus out and drove over the beautiful landscape. There were rolling hills covered in grass, and large banks of thick heather. The island ended in an abrupt cliff, with a lighthouse part way down the side. Unlike most lighthouses, the signal light was not the highest point but sat next to the tower. Why it was there, and not on top, mystified the four of us.

Next to the lighthouse was an open space looking down into a small cliffy cove. Jutting out of the water, the cliffs created an ideal rookery for puffins, guillemots, razorbills, fulmars, and kittiwakes. I was instantly reminded of South Georgia. The smell of bird poop and the sound of the squawking was familiar. There were also almost no natural trees anywhere around, calling up the memory of the treeless South Georgia.

Here, Daddy stands on the trail down to the bird viewing spot. The pointed rock is one with a ton guillemots.

Three telescopes were set up along the bird-viewing platform. The first showed three puffin burrows and allowed you to watch how the puffins interact. The second was more zoomed in to view one particular puffin. The third was trained upon a group of squawking guillemots. There were also binoculars for each person to use.

Daddy and I watch our birds. I think that Daddy is looking at the guillemots and I am looking at the puffins. As you can see, I am still carrying the backpack. It was so interesting looking at birds, that I forgot I had it on.

The puffins, with bright orange feet and beaks, were relatively easy to find given their small size. They were like clowns at a wedding. They had the classic penguin-like tuxedos, as well as beaks as large as their heads and excessively large feet. They tripped about on their feet that appear to be designed for swimming, not walking. They waddled in and out of burrows dug to protect their young as they grew up. They stood guard over their burrows.

 The puffins were too small, too far away, and too few to get a picture of them. Here you can see a statue of one. It is a little bigger than the real birds!

I learned all about the puffins from the volunteers at the station. They told us why puffins have large beaks. The beak is designed to hold a fish in the puffin's mouth even when it is open. This is so it can, in one load, bring back multiple fish to its hungry chick, even if it has to make many grabs at the fish. This is important because puffins do not regurgitate fish to their chicks, they bring whole ones to them. The volunteers also told me that this is the hatching season. They said that just a few days ago, they saw a puffin fly to a burrow with a mouthful of fish- a good sign for the next generation of puffins.

 Here, one of the volunteers tells Jack about the birds.

In addition to watching the puffins, I also enjoyed checking out the guillemots. Small plateaus held far more birds than I would have thought possible. They were the bulk of the birds in this rookery, numbering over three thousand, according to the volunteers there. The razorbills would have been hard to differentiate from the guillemots, except that they nested in different places. The razorbills cling in twos and threes on tiny ledges high up on the cliff while the guillemots pack together lower down on larger plateaus. Razorbills also have much thicker beaks. All three of the birds looked pretty similar, except for the beaks and the legs. They were all a little bit bigger than a robin.

There were two other birds that lived in a very different way. The fulmars and kittiwakes were built to fly, not swim like the other three birds at the rookery. The fulmars have the albatross's distinctive stiff-winged flight and soar instead of flapping their wings. I watched as they attempted to land on grassy ledges, failing repeatedly. I remembered them, or something similar, from South Georgia. Kittiwakes also cruised around the cliffs. They looked just like the common seagulls, except that their backs were a bit lighter and they were a bit smaller.

If I leaned way out and looked down with the binoculars, I could just make out a common seagull feasting. According to the volunteers, it had drowned a guillemot, plucked it, then fought off all the other birds, and began eating. He, since the females were nesting in another rookery, had been at it for hours and probably would be eating for a few more. I spent my entire time at the rookery learning about the birds and watching their movements. Sadly, the last bus back to Sila was about to leave and we had to depart.

The next day, we sailed for Scotland. As we left, I noticed the many birds. There were Northern Gannets, the largest bird in the area, which swooped about diving whenever they spotted a meal. The yellow head and beak that flowed into their face made them recognizable as a gannet, or booby. Furthermore, their dive is quite distinctive as they tuck in their wings to accelerate and hit the water with great force. They often go as deep as ten meters to catch a fish. Along with the flying and diving gannets, others were swimming including guillemots in huge numbers, diving or flying when the boat threatened to run them over. The razorbills were mixed among them.

Here there are both guillemots and razorbills. Most of them are guillemots. If you look carefully, you can identify a few as razorbills by their thick beaks!

These birds slowly increased in density as we approached the rookery. Soon we were seeing the fulmars and kittiwakes swooping and diving in the cold Irish sea. Finally, we saw the puffins. They became the prize sighting. Whenever they were sighted, we commented on the cute little bird flashing its silver cheeks and disappearing suddenly.

When we rounded the point and saw the actual extent of the rookery, I was amazed.

 Here is Daddy steering by the rookery.

 I am looking up at the rookery. In the water, you can make out some birds.Up high you can see the lighthouse without the light on top!

A cliff covered in guillemots had blocked my view of the whole thing from the lighthouse, whereas, from the boat I could see the rookery continuing along the coast. Again we had to leave as we sailed past and the density of birds slowly fell to the numbers I was used to seeing. - Porter