RETURN TO BEADNELL

It has been a while since we visited the coast and several months since we came up to Beadnell Bay. 

In whichever season, we visit the Northumberland Coast SSSI, we always see an amazing assemblage of migrant birds that have made enormous journeys to spend their winters or their summers here,

Shep loves the feel of cool soft sand on his paws

Today in June, Julie was hoping to see the greatest globe-trotter of them all – the Arctic Tern. Every summer thousands of them travel over 25,000 miles from Antarctica to breed here at Beadnell and Julie was hoping to catch a glimpse of them.

It was a glorious day for our adventure. The tide was a long way out and so the vast sandy beach lay spread out in front of us. Bruno was so excited. He couldn’t resist instigating a quick game of tag across the sand with me, but I felt far too important to join in. I must admit that it was lovely to feel the soft cool sand on my paws again – and to feel so free!  However, we don’t tend to stray too far from Julie’s side – especially if we can see the shore birds gathered at the water’s edge. Many of these will be very tired and hungry after epic journeys, and so they certainly don’t need disturbance from us – or from our humans.

Bruno is looking forward to his walk across Newton Beach towards Beadnell Bay

As we walked along the beach, the dark blue sea shimmered in the bright June sunshine and a series of soft sandbank islands lay marooned from the outgoing tide. A creche of brown flecked fledgling gulls occupied one of them- their parents keeping a distant but watchful eye.

We soon happened upon the first of several large areas which had been set aside and cordoned off with net fencing.  These areas provide the arriving birds with a safe place in which to reunite with their lifelong partner and start their family. Arctic terns pair for life but once they have raised their chicks, the males and females go their separate ways until the following year – no wonder the reunions seem so frenetic.

Soon we heard the unmistakeable cacophony of terns, and we saw ‘squadrons’ of them swooping down above our heads or balancing themselves in the air with their perfectly forked tails. others were squabbling on the sand bank beyond the safety of the net enclosures. But the greatest commotion came from the sand dunes behind and from inside the enclosures themselves.

Every bird boasted bright red legs and vermilion bills, and these contrasted starkly with their pure white plumage and jet-black caps.

I must admit the birds were a tad scary and Bruno and I just kept our heads down and trotted on – Arctic terns are well known for their attacks on unsuspecting and unwitting trespassers! In fact, we didn’t walk all the way up Long Nanny – we just didn’t want to disturb them too much.

We retraced our steps, and Julie spoke to a National Trust warden called L.J.  who was one of a team of humans whose job was to watch over all of the visiting globe-trotters.

Bruno stands on the coastal path between Newton and Beadnell Bays

L.J. told us that at least a thousand birds had arrived here already – including a smaller number of little terns. Sadly, some of these pairs of terns had not chosen the safest place to set up home and a combination of strong winds and high tides had washed their nests away – Only a handful of nests had survived.

Once an Arctic Tern egg has been laid it takes three weeks for it to hatch, and L.J was delighted to tell us that the first chick had been born on the previous day –this might explain why the birds were so excitable.

As we spoke to LJ. the tide was slowly creeping up the beach. Soon it would be impassable to any dogs and their humans – but at least the birds would be safe.

So, it was time to wander back to the car.

Sadly, a pair of humans had disturbed the creche of fledgling gulls who were now no longer resting on the sand bank and had followed their parents into the air –

The beach at Low Newton was teeming with our canine friends and their humans so we followed the coastal path through Embleton links to get back to the car.

The coastal path boats a wealth of wild flowers

The verges on either side of the path were interwoven with pale pink dogrose, bright yellow trefoil and rich magenta bloody cranesbill. The insects were in seventh heaven. Guided by landing strips invisible to the human eye they visited a multitude of flowers.

The coastal path wound its way along the edge of the golf course past scores of humans, many of them wheeling heavy caddies full of clubs. Bruno spied a solitary yellow golf club on the path and was very tempted to steal it. Luckily its owner appeared almost immediately and  so the temptation was removed – what a relief!

Finally – our car was in sight.

Home Time!!