Ingham’s W RLD
ON A windswept golden beach and then on a chain of remote islands I met some angry birds this week. Very angry. They are the crossest, most hyperactive birds I have ever seen. They never stop flying, diving, soaring, shrieking, fighting, landing, rising up and beginning the frantic process over and over again.
These seabirds dive- bombed me repeatedly, pecking at my hat, and pooped on me twice in Stuka- style raids. It’s supposed to be lucky though it didn’t feel like it as I washed the fishy guano off in the icy sea.
The stars of the show were thousands of Arctic terns, global nomads with blood- red dagger bills, red feet, black caps, forked tails and wings that look far too long for them.
I was formally introduced to them at two of the National Trust’s jewels in Northumberland – the Long Nanny dunes near Seahouses and Seabird Central – or the Farne Islands, across the water from Bamburgh Castle.
Arctic terns have the longest migration of any bird on earth breeding right up into the high Arctic where the sun always shines in June. Then these sea swallows dash south to the Antarctic where they spend our winter.
They are true sun worshippers. Trust ranger Jake Taylor- Bruce, 24, from Cornwall, said: “Arctic terns spend our winter in the Antarctic summer and then come here for ours. They probably see more sunlight than any other creature.”
Along the way these 3 ½ oz birds clock up 60,000 miles a year or the equivalent of twice round the world. So raise a glass to the Farnes’ oldest Arctic tern who could arrive any day now. If he makes it, he will be approaching 40 and about 2.3 million air miles.
On the Farnes I saw just how angry these dainty birds can be. They have taken over the island – along with common and Sandwich terns, puffins, guillemots, razorbills and various gulls.
The Arctic terns nest everywhere, in tiny scrapes or between the cobbles by the 14th- century chapel. You have to tread carefully to avoid their mottled olive eggs.
They are ferocious in defence of their nests, rising up in a fury of sharp- beaked shrieks. But they’re beautiful and graceful, so you wear a hat and put up with the pecks and the flying guano. And their tenacity is reassuring – angry birds make good parents.
PLASTIC pollution is easy to find at sea. Sailing to the islands we passed a couple of deflated helium balloons, birthday treats turned killers. Fulmars – northern relatives of albatrosses – are particularly vulnerable. They skim the sea for food and have been found dead, stomachs filled with plastic. LOVE and lust are in the sea air at the moment. Over the past few days I’ve seen herring gulls mating by Seahouses harbour, kittiwakes at it near the golf club while Inner Farne was seething with black- headed gulls, and common and Arctic terns in flagrante. Like all good reporters, I made my excuses and left. MANY birds have elaborate mating rituals – great- crested grebes, say, dance face- to- face on the water. But the unfortunately named shag, smaller green- black relatives of cormorants, looks much less romantic. But I watched one with an Elvis quiff repeatedly stagger over the clifftop to present his mate with freshly picked flowers with which she lined her nest. Romance isn’t dead. GREEN TIP: Water plants first thing or at dusk to reduce evaporation. YOU hear seabird colonies before you see them – a cacophony of screams and shrieks, grunts and cackles. On the Farnes the wails of grey seals provide a ghostly accompaniment. Suddenly the terns and smaller gulls screech with one voice as a lesser black- backed gull – a bruiser hunting eggs and chicks – swoops over. It’s the sound of nature in the raw. THE Farnes’ breeding bird list is stunning – 80,000 puffins, 96,000 guillemots, 1,000 razorbills, 3,600 Arctic terns, 1,100 Sandwich terns, 9,400 kittiwakes, and more. They also attract scores of migrants and some very confused vagrants. Last year a black- browed albatross flew past. He was a little off course. They breed in places such as the Falklands.