Kittiwake

The dangerous cliffs at Ness are to be trodden on cautiously if the wanderer values his or her wellbeing, but for the various birds that breed here at this time of year it is the perfect place to raise their family safe from human interference.
My most recent visit had started as a trip to find seals and their pups I had been told were to be found along this particular shore, although I was sure that this event did not take place until autumn. After some research I discovered that the Grey Seal does indeed have it’s pups from august onwards but the smaller common Seal has its pups in June or July.

As I walked, Fulmars glided by, silently watching my every move. Other birds, similar and just as quiet, perched on ledges beside their nests, the snowy white feathers of their head and breast contrasting with the pitch black cliff face. These were Kittiwakes, gulls of the sea who rarely can be seen on land, except at their breeding sight where they congregate in small colonies. Every March and April the Kittiwake leaves the sea and returns to these cliffs where they build a nest of solid construction, sometimes on the narrowest of ledges. At this time they perform a mating ceremony where they open their beaks to show it’s red/orange interior while indulging in much bowing and bill-scissoring. The clutch of two or sometimes three eggs are laid in May or June and after an incubation period of around three weeks the chicks hatch. Unlike other gulls they are not scavengers and will rear their offspring for at least five weeks with fish caught on the surface of the sea. The young, or “tarrocks”as they are called soon lose their long silky down and follow the adults to the sea where they are taught to hunt, their parents diving tern-like from the air, often completely submerging in the water.

Its small attractive appearance and mild mannered looks make it my favourite gull and compared to its ever screeching cousins its silent tolerance while being photographed make it a perfect subject.

It was interesting to see that the Kittiwake colonies were placed towards the bottom of the cliff while the Fulmers occupied the higher positions as if some pecking order was in force. At the very top, as if to confirm this theory, a pair of Great Black Backed Gulls stood menacingly, their fierce eyes surveying the scene beneath them, watching patiently for the next meal.
Luckily with the Kitiwakes closer to sea level I was able to find a position to take photographs that did not induce an attack of vertigo and a sudden urge to use the toilet when I looked down. This was to change however when a large black head appeared from underneath my feet and an agitated shag snapped viciously at my boots. I did not blame the birds for its actions as it protected its solitary chick and I removed my offending size tens from the vicinity of its head and went to search for the seals.
I soon reached the lighthouse and although numerous heads could be seen bobbing out at sea close to the shore, the pups I looked forward to meeting were not evident.
The rain had persisted for about an hour by now as I retraced my steps and made my way steadily back to Ness.
As I neared the village I went of on a tangent to the spot where I had watched the Black Back Gulls earlier that day. Two half grown chicks scrambled for the security of their parents as I trod through a litter of bones, feathers and pellets that the adults regurgitate after their meals. Six skulls lay scattered in one small area; all were remains of some unfortunate adult Kittiwakes. As I sat in the car making my way home I wondered why the Great Black Back Gulls seemed to be preying entirely on Kittiwakes while the similar Fulmar was ignored. Perhaps one day the answer to this conundrum will present itself.