Falmouth Bay Pelagic, 14 August 2023

The meaning of pelagic is; relating to the open sea. When birders talk of "going on a pelagic" then they are referring to taking a boat trip out to sea, well away from the land, in order to see birds that are truly maritime, that is birds that live their entire lives on the ocean except for the few months each year when they have to visit cliffs and islands to breed and raise young. 

We took our first pelagic only last September, choosing to travel south out of Falmouth and as far as twelve miles out into Falmouth Bay. We were truly blessed because the day just so happened to be totally benign with no discernible wind and sunshine throughout. The lack of wind meant that most birds were "grounded" (nice oxymoronic meaning there) and we encountered hundreds of Shearwaters and Storm Petrels just floating and loafing on the mirrored surface of the sea. On my wish list that day were the Shearwaters; Cory's, Great, Balearic, and Sooty, and we were treated to fabulous views of all of them except for the former. We also had great encounters with European Storm Petrels although the rarer Wilson's Storm Petrel eluded us. My report of that eventful days birding is detailed here in Pelagic Magic.

Because we didn't see Cory's Shearwater or Wilson's Storm Petrel on that day, both were still absent from my life list. So I booked another trip with Keith aboard the Free Spirit for Monday the 14th August, earlier in the year because I knew that there should be more chance of seeing those two species. Sea-watching, where observers look out to sea from a vantage point on the coast to see passing birds, in Cornwall had been incredible in the days leading up to our trip. Hundreds, indeed thousands of Cory's Shearwaters had been seen passing Porthgwarra, Pendeen and The Lizard. The Free Spirit can travel out as far as Lizard Point so surely we'd get Cory's for our life list this time. Wilson's Storm Petrel might be the more difficult tick but the birds are always out there so it would just be a case of being lucky and finding one.

We had originally planned a four day, three night mini-holiday to Cornwall to give us the chance to collect some other birds while there but unfortunate circumstances led to us having to curtail the trip to just two days and a Sunday night stopover. We were needed at home and really taking just the shortened break was very much in doubt until the last minute. But we managed to get away and drove south-westwards on a reasonably empty M5 on the Sunday morning. We booked a Sunday lunch at a pub where we'd enjoyed fine fare last year while we stopped for a coffee break on the way. All appeared to be settled at home so we were happy that the trip should go smoothly. Traffic was lighter than we expected and as a result we were passing Penzance at least an hour before we had envisioned. To kill the time before lunch was served we headed into Penberth and took a quick walk to the cove and back. Penberth is a favourite place of ours, it really is beautiful, and I could sit for hours just gazing out to sea there. Steady drizzle made it less attractive than usual though. In the half hour while we huddled up sat on a rock on the small slipway, we saw plenty of Shearwaters heading west to east past the cove, presumably all Manx. None looked big enough to be any of the larger species, there were Gannets too which allowed for size comparison, and I hadn't bothered to bring my scope on this trip since it would be useless on a rocking boat.

Lunch was a massive disappointment. I guess the chef had changed from the year before and maybe the pub was cutting costs by buying less tender joints to serve up although for over a score a go I'd have thought they could afford fillets. The roast potatoes were so well done, and by that I don't mean they were great, rather they were on the point of becoming one of the rocks that the inn is named after since they'd been cooked for so long. I reckon I could have taken a Manxie out with one propelled from the top of the nearby cliff. Still, I did my best with it, so when we walked out onto the Botallack cliffs an hour later, my ample belly was full enough. The drizzle was still falling and the breeze was picking up in readiness for the predicted squalls that night. We come to Botallack primarily for Choughs. Our most enigmatic of corvid species breed in good numbers in the area and any walk usually produces a few. Years ago I found my first "self-found" scarcity at Botallack, a Wryneck that resembled a Little Owl on first looks because it lacked a tail. With Kenidjack just to the south, this is an area that we love and always look forward to visiting even though it doesn't quite have the beauty of other Cornish valleys. Botallack is "Poldark country" with lots of abandoned mine buildings and shafts and is managed by the National Trust hence we park in the village and walk in. So it was typical when we passed the usually expensive carpark and noticed that the payment machine was out of order. I once again bemoaned my luck.

We had almost given up on Choughs and had turned back to head for the small cafe for a warming coffee when I spotted four of them round the headland above the most preserved of the mine buildings. As usual the Choughs announced their arrival by their loud "cheow" calls. I waited a while until the birds were closer before gaining a couple of record shots. I've taken lots of photos of Chough before so the distant shots taken in the rain would suffice this time. Naturally the birds were a new addition to our year list and getting them here would save us having to go looking for them elsewhere later should we not make it to Cornwall for a holiday in October this year. 

Chough (Pyrrhocorax pyrrhocorax)

After our coffee and with time to spare before heading off to our overnight digs, we took the short drive to Pendeen for a quick look from the lighthouse there. Pendeen had been producing good numbers of birds all week but I know from experience that passage normally tails off in the afternoon and evening. The rain had increased in intensity so I walked to the viewpoint alone, Mrs Caley wisely staying in the car. Nobody else was scanning the sea but there were still lots of Manx Shearwaters passing north to south and only just out as far as the rocks so good views were obtained through the binoculars. I'd left the camera in the car, my kit doesn't like the wet weather much and I needed it fully functional for the pelagic tomorrow. A moment later I was ruing my decision to leave it in the boot when my first ever Cory Shearwater, followed by another sailed past the rocks. I expected to see some on the pelagic and my thrill at seeing a lifer wasn't the big thrill it should have been because it wasn't shared with Mrs Caley. Still, there are so many large Shearwaters in Cornish waters this year that it should be a shoe-in to see more the next day. The Cory's nudged my life list up to 413.

Our friend Jim (The Standlake Birder) was joining us on the pelagic and was also staying in the PremierInn at Helston so we were meeting him for dinner. After the less than appealing lunch, neither of us were particularly hungry so we just snacked as we discussed life and expectations for the following day. While we ate the weather as predicted, turned stormy with strong winds pushing heavy rain through. That rain was still falling when we woke the next morning but was forecast to move away and leave a nice day in its wake. The only slight concern would be the state of the sea, often after inclement weather it can take a while for the swell to dissipate. I had spoken to Keith the day before and he had said that all should be good by the time we would venture out into the open waters. The boat was due to sail at ten-thirty so we had ample time to take breakfast and stock up for the trip. Mrs Caley and I arrived in Falmouth too early as usual, I'm rarely late for anything, unless it's for twitching a rare bird, so we took a drive around the leafy lanes and small fishing villages dotted around the coast. From the land the sea still looked a bit wild with many "white horses" visible out in the bay.

This trip should have been aboard Keith's new catamaran boat but unfortunately while the craft was being moved into dry dock it was dropped and extensive damage occurred so the boat was currently being repaired. Maybe next year we can travel aboard the new boat. So it was onto the Free Spirit again. This time we were directed towards the back of the boat to take our seats so we'd have potentially the best views, to the sides and rear anyway. Choosing seats on a small boat is not something that is taken lightly by the skipper. Apparently weight has to be balanced between both sides of the boat, it's called trimming, so that the craft sits as level as possible when on the sea. Because the Free Spirit has four seats on the port side and six on the starboard, plus the double seat at the back that Mrs Caley and myself occupied, fat blokes like me generally have to sit on the outsides to act as ballast. Now I was in the rear seat, I guessed that the boat would have to tug a bit harder.

We left the calm waters of the harbour and immediately hit a considerable swell which made for an interesting few minutes as we all adjusted to the bumpiness. This trip would be in stark contrast to the boating lake type conditions of our day out last year, and I soon realised that photography would be quite a task. Luckily Keith is a master of his art and knows these seas like the back of his hand. The boat wasn't quite trimmed adequately though so he asked Jim and Mrs Caley to switch seats so I wouldn't be able to hold my wife's hand as we rode the waves. Mrs C is an excellent sailor though so I knew she'd be fine. She would also have a better view of the starboard side too. Keith's assistant, Sam, a young and budding cetacean expert, was also directed to take up a position to my left. I knew that these measures were necessary but none of them really helped from my viewpoint and Jim's even less since we now had the view to our left blocked out.

For half an hour nothing much happened but it was fun riding the waves and there were some good ones of those. I like being on boats and touch wood have never suffered from seasickness. Those on the boat that might be affected were very thoughtfully provided with wristbands which somehow quell nausea brought on by the motion of the boat on the sea. We were told to remain seated for obvious reasons. On last years excursion with a dead flat sea for most of the time, we were able to patrol around the boat almost at will, at least when invited to by Keith. There would be no such invitations this time and I was advised to sit back down on a few occasions whenever I strained for a better look at something. Apparently I could have been stumbled overboard or something. The first birds we came across were a string of Shearwaters, all heading westwards. All on board studied the birds as well as we could but as far as we could tell, all were Manx Shearwaters, the most expected of the birds that we were hoping to see. At least the appetite was whetted for more.

Skipper Keith lives on these waters and knows what to expect in all conditions. Thankfully he also possessed the skill to avoid the worst of the rough swell which must have amounted to several metres at times. He kept us fairly close to the shore, about a mile out, and initially headed west, the same way as the Shearwaters were going. Falmouth Bay is enclosed by Dodmans Point to the east and Lizard Point to the west. Each headland effectively juts out into the sea for almost twenty miles so Keith was always keen to point out that we were actually far out to sea even though we could comfortably see the shoreline and cliffs just a mile or so away. Birds that pass one of the headlands are funnelled through the bay to pass the other headland on the other side. Interestingly the birds avoid rocky reefs, and always fly to the seaward side of them if they get close, as happens at Porthgwarra and Pendeen further around the coast. Many seabirds can be encountered close to fishing boats and we investigated a large gathering of Gannets that were following a small trawler but again we could only Manx Shearwaters fishing with the larger birds. Keith took the craft close to a small "Crabber", a craft used for crab and lobster fishing. The baskets used to catch the animals were being hauled in, and that had attracted many seabirds, mainly Gulls but also some tiny Storm Petrels. There were around twenty of the House Martin sized, and similarly plumaged, Storm Petrels buzzing about the boat.

Keith shouted for Sam to squirt some fish oil onto the sea and he got to work, setting a trail of the oil via an old fairy liquid bottle. It didn't take long for the Storm Petrels to be attracted to the slick and they were soon flying right over it. Luckily the birds were concentrated into the slick behind the boat so Jim and I had the best views possible. I rattled off a few photos but it was extremely difficult trying to keep a steady arm because of the bouyancy of the boat. None of the Storm Petrels came particularly close to our boat but I was able to grab some nice, atmospheric shots of the diminutive seabirds.

European Storm Petrel (Hydrobates pelagicus)

One of the Storm Petrels caught my eye because it appeared to stand on the water, in fact it was bouncing up and down in the slick. Just the evening before I had read a tweet saying that the "pogoing" dance of a Wilson's Storm Petrel was very distinctive and a good pointer for picking out that species amongst a group of many Storm Petrels. I had never seen a Wilson's Storm Petrel before, it was one of the main quarries of this trip, and this bird was definitely pogoing. I located it through the camera and tried to get photos. At that point I wasn't sure it was a Wilson's so hadn't called it out for the others. Typical of my luck though was that Keith chose that exact inopportune moment to speed away towards another of his, "Big Work Ups", where large groups of birds congregate to feed. This meant that the boat became even more unstable so that the few frames I managed of the interesting looking bird were unfocused. However, on review there was no doubt that I'd found and photographed my first ever Wilson's Storm Petrel! The 414th species to hit my life list.

Wilson's Storm Petrel (Oceanites oceanicus)

Unfortunately by the time I'd looked at the shots, we had left the group of Storm Petrels behind and nobody else had clocked the bird themselves, including Jim and Mrs Caley. I had been attracted to the bird because of that pogo action. As a young punk I was known to do a bit of pogoing so I likened the Wilson's a little bit to myself of that day. I had taken just six frames of the bird. Two were very blurred and the others only slightly less so, but all were recognisable as a Wilson's Storm Petrel. The longer legs that when raised would protrude beyond the tail were obvious. As was the pale, almost white, upper wing flash that European Stormies lack. The plain under wing could also be discerned. And I reckon if you squint hard at the dangling legs photos the yellow webbing of the feet just about showed too. I was feeling pretty smug that I alone had noticed the bird and had watched and photographed it. I felt less pleased that I'd failed to alert the others but it had happened so quickly that I never really got the chance to share the sighting until it was too late. 

The next collection of birds, located just before we neared The Manacles, big pointy bits of jagged rocks that pierce the sea from way below, was composed solely of Manx Shearwaters again. The group of birds, almost a hundred strong were floating on the sea, presumably taking a breather before heading off westwards towards their breeding territories later that day. On our trip in calm conditions last year most of the birds we encountered were resting on the sea and only flew when they had to. I guess the calm conditions made flying arduous for what are fairly large birds. This time however, in the more turbulent weather they were happy to take to the air and they rode the crests, and troughs, of the waves with ease, and hardly a wingbeat was required except for take off. I took what shots I could have of the birds, both swimming on the sea and some in the air through the limited viewpoint that I had to the side and rear of the boat. The rear view of a Shearwater showed how they are "boat-shaped", superbly adapted for riding on the sea. Manx Shearwater is the most prevalent of the Shearwaters encountered around the coast of Britain and can be seen at a variety of locations and indeed sometimes at inland waters as well. I have seen a couple in landlocked Oxfordshire close to home at Farmoor reservoir.

Manx Shearwater (Puffinus puffinus)

We sailed on and it wasn't long before Keith spotted another Crabber and he made haste to catch up with it. A large group of large Gulls were congregated behind the boat. A few Gannets were there too but more interestingly a few Storm Petrels were again darting around. A bit more fishy liquid squirts and the Storm Petrels were soon concentrated on the slick. This time they approached the boat closer than before but if anything that made them even harder to get the camera on since they flew past at such speed. In front and to the left we had a couple of seasoned birders and they soon called another Wilson's but this time I couldn't see it at all. The only place I could really watch was behind the boat and there were probably ten Storm Petrels bouncing around there. Apart from one, none of them "danced" on the water and the bird that did clearly had white marks to the under wings and the legs were shorter so they'd be no repeat Wilson's experience for me. I was able to get much improved photos of European Storm Petrels though, especially of a couple that flew towards us as we idled at the head of the fish oil slick. We'd only been at sea for a couple of hours and we'd already had cracking views of some of the seabirds that we'd come to see.

We were still lacking any of the larger Shearwaters, and especially the Cory's that I so wanted photos of. The wind had abated somewhat too so the sea was returning to a less troubled state but Keith still advised to hang on when we returned to the open waters after our short sojourn just off of Black Head. That advice deserved to be well heeded as well since when I tried to return my rucksack to the cabin, I only got there and back by banging into just about every fixture and fitting on the way. I have bruises to show for that. Standing up wouldn't have been possible when out on the swell and I understood clearly why we had to spend almost seven hours stuck to our bench seats. For the next few minutes I had an adapted version of the well known "Stagger Lee" song reverberating in my brain, set to the Nick Cave music of course; 'I'm that clumsy birder blogger called Old Caley!'

Pretty soon after we rejoined the fast lane we encountered a few more Storm Petrels, further away and Keith didn't stop this time so we had no chance to grill them for Wilson's. I took a few distant photos which helped to underline my belief that all of the birds were of the European species.

Out of blue Keith hollered, 'Sooty' across the bow heading right!'. Now obviously this wasn't a reference to a low flying glove puppet but rather to a Sooty Shearwater which as Keith added, had sneaked in below the waves. I should point out that as master of the boat, Keith sat atop in the wheelhouse some two metres above us on the deck so he could see far more than we could. In fact at times that could be frustrating when he called out birds, and other marine creatures, that he could see but we had no chance of getting eyes on. But Keith is a very good guide and if there is a chance to get us all on the bird then he will do his best to make sure we get it. Because of his commentary on the flight direction of the Sooty Shearwater, I was able to snatch a couple of shots before it disappeared out of view. The best result wasn't a great image, far from it and very much a record shot, but the Sooty Shearwater was a welcomed year tick. For much better images of the species then have a look at last years trip blog.

Sooty Shearwater (Ardenna grisea)

That trip last year was a pelagic made especially for birders, it was sold as a "birders special". This trip was a standard seven hour journey into the bay so not all on board were there for birds alone. The twelve attendees were split down the middle, six with bins, most with cameras, and six without. Also we had Sam on board so it was clear that cetaceans were also very much a sought after quarry. Surprisingly there was little bird activity as we cruised further out but Keith had spotted some Dolphins and he made his way to them. Now, I've seen Dolphins on just about every boat trip I've made over the past couple of years so I've become a little bit blasé about them but I will admit that seeing some of these wonderful creatures right next to the boat and seemingly interacting with it will always be a treat. When you see huge Dolphins and tiny seabirds like Storm Petrels so at ease in what is such a hostile environment for us humans then it's time to feel very humble indeed. Mind you, Dolphins are hopeless on dry land and Shearwaters can barely walk on it. 

Every Shearwater raft that Keith found for us comprised solely of Manxies. There wasn't a Great or a Cory's to be seen anywhere which was disappointing, and was made even more galling bearing in mind the amount that were flying past every headland in Cornwall. It was incredible that while we were out on the sea just a few miles from Lizard Point and seeing no large Shearwaters at all, observers looking out to sea from the headland were counting hundreds. The reason we weren't finding any must have been down to the fact that they were all flying a few miles further out to sea and the state of the water meant that it was impossible for Keith to take day-tripping tourists into that dangerous territory. If that wasn't the reason then we must have just been unlucky! At least I had some more Manxies to photograph.

We got within a mile or so of a Navy training helicopter and I watched a trainee swing onto a boat from a winch. It looked pretty hairy stuff to me and I admired the skills being exhibited. The flow of birds had dried up somewhat so watching the exercises relieved the onset of a bit of boredom.

Keith exploded into voice again, 'Thar she blows, thar she blows!', and repeated that phrase a couple more times as he put the Free Spirit into full steam ahead. He was referring to the blow of a Fin Whale that had surfaced about three miles away. Keith was doing his best to get closer so that we could see it. Of course he had an advantage over us, and not just because he sat aloft on the bridge, he also had an echo locator, so he knew that the whale was there and thus knew where to head to. 'Thar she blows again' and 'again'. On the fifth blow I clapped eyes on the huge fountain of spray that was being ejected by the Fin Whale through its blowhole. Then I caught sight of the animals back and the, by comparison, tiny fin that sits well back on the animal (I'll be honest that at the time I knew very little about the Fin Whale and have only researched since seeing it). The Fin Whale was being "escorted" by a flotilla of Dolphins which despite being much smaller were far easier to see since they often breached completely out of the water. When we'd got close to the spot where the Whale had surfaced it had disappeared. Keith had mentioned that the animal was moving very fast, apparently they can swim at thirty knots, which is much quicker than the Free Spirit can ride above it. The Fin Whale could also easily dive up to a thousand metres straight down too, although if it did that in Falmouth Bay then it would smack its nose on the bottom about a quarter of the way down. Keith slowed the engines and then idled the boat. He urged us to look all ways around the boat and watch for the animal. Large whales can stay under for fifteen minutes or more so by the time it came up it could be six or seven miles away. As we floated on the sea, a surreal quietness engulfed the boat and I felt that we were on the film set of Jaws, the part where Quint, Brody and Hooper waited for the Shark to appear. I was tempted to show off my scar. Luckily for us there was no angry Great White Shark beneath the boat but disappointingly it seemed as if the the almost thirty metre long Fin Whale had somehow slipped away so there'd be no better sighting than we'd already had. A nice Cetacean life tick though!

The day rather dissipated after the blow show from the Fin Whale. We saw a few more Manx Shearwaters and another Sooty Shearwater sneaked past. As we neared the harbour we saw many Gannets diving after a bait ball of fish and Gulls, particularly Great Black-backed Gulls which considering the devastation and loss of life attributed to bird flu in breeding colonies was good to see. We chugged back into the harbour and another pelagic was over. Perhaps it lacked the shear (see what I did there) number and variety of birds that we saw last year, but a trip that delivered a self-found lifer (under Keith's steam of course), two other year ticks and a bloody great Fin Whale can't be bad. I'll be very happy to sail with AK wildlife cruises again one day. 

Thanks to Keith and to Sam for a great day out!

Year List additions;

274) Manx Shearwater, 275) Chough, 276) Cory's Shearwater, 277) European Storm Petrel, 

278) Wilson's Storm Petrel, 279) Sooty Shearwater