A very brief lull in the winds followed on from days of wind and rain. The residual ten foot swell from the west sent me looking for shelter on an east facing bit of coast and Mevagissey Bay seemed to fit the bill nicely. It’s very scenic and varied and the sandy shore at Porthpean, just outside St.Austell, is one of the most protected of all open coast beaches in Cornwall when the weather and waves are coming from the west.
The ‘Cornish Riviera’ (as this bit of coast is known) rarely fails to deliver some interesting marine wildlife, and within five minutes of paddling out from the beach I came upon that most charismatic of all the diving birds to visit the UK, a Great Northern Diver.
I think I prefer the more characterful American name of Common Loon, although the ‘common’ bit doesn’t do this magnificent bird justice. It is the biggest diving ‘duck’ (although strictly speaking it’s not a duck, it’s a Diver), has a colossal spear of a beak, and spends longer underwater when it dives than any other UK species.
They are winter visitors to the UK and this bird probably could well come from Iceland or Greenland. Their winter plumage is a bit drab (certainly in comparison to their summer plumage). Compare and contrast today’s bird with a pic I took in May this year :
The call of the Loon is the sound of the wild and you are a heathen if this doesn’t send a shiver up your spine. Listen carefully:
As I rounded Black Head on the way to Mevagissey I could see a huge milling mass of Gulls a mile or to ahead, about a mile offshore. When I saw that they were not associated with a fishing boat I was very excited because I thought they were probably over feeding dolphins.
I engaged top gear which today wasn’t very fast as I was using my inflatable (Gumotex Safari) kayak. About four mph max. The Gulls were still active as I arrived amongst them, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many in one feeding group…every gull in eastern Cornwall must have been there.
I still hadn’t worked out what they were feeding on and was surprised I hadn’t seen a single fin at the surface. Then a Lesser Black-back flew past with a small fish…
I paddled further into the thick of the action and was staggered to see that what I had initially thought were patches of foam on the surface, were actually thousands of dead fish. Probably tens of thousands, maybe millions.
These were pilchards. I’m sure they had just been dumped (either deliberately or accidentally)by a netting trawler, as they all looked fresh , and I could see a couple of big trawlers on the horizon. If you are a pilchard it was incredibly unfortunate for your well being that you were rebranded as a Cornish Sardine several years ago, but very good for the Cornish fishing industry.
Today’s pilchard carnage seemed a terrible waste as these fish would have been a meal or two (or ten) for a pod of dolphins or a Minke whale.
I sat around hoping for some larger sea creature to be attracted to the easy feast, but none appeared. I guess they prefer live fish. It was a consolation however to see all seven of the more common species of UK gull represented in the milling throng, including the neatly-plumaged Kittiwake,
and a single Mediterranean Gull. These used to be rare in the UK but are fast increasing.
I paddled over to Mevagissey for a quick tour around the harbour and then headed out to the gull frenzy again, just in case.
As I ate my cheese ‘n pickle sandwiches watching the gulls I noticed a police helicopter moving slowly along the coast, and both the inshore and offshore lifeboat from Fowey speeding across the bay. They started to ‘comb’ the coast starting at Black Head.
I suspected they might come over and see what on earth I was up to, and to check if I was in trouble. It must be quite unusual to see someone sitting in an inflatable kayak a mile out to sea in early December.
They did indeed come over and as I explained I was absolutely fine and was photographing the birds. They said they were looking for a missing person and saw me so came over to see if I was OK. I thanked them very much and looked closely at the crew to try to get an insight into what they REALLY thought of this idiot in his inflatable kayak. But needless to say they were totally professional and totally polite and objective.
A single small Grey Seal and a couple more Loons and a couple of paddleboarders provided a bit of interest on the paddle back to Porthpean.