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Caw of the wild: Rathlin's ‘penguins' may be puffins, but nature lovers still flock to see its birdlife
First, there is a gasp. 'There he is. Oh my God, he's so cute.' A
puffin
has been sighted, far up on
Rathlin Island's
western cliffs. On the viewing platform everyone turns towards it, cameras aloft.
Above, the puffin peers out, as if contemplating launching itself from the ledge; the crowd holds its collective breath and snaps away, hoping for the perfect picture before the bird retreats, its distinctive orange feet and bill vanishing into the grass.
This is the moment approximately 20,000 people come to see every summer. 'It's a very happy place,' says Geraldine Anslow, manager of the West Light Seabird Centre. 'Nobody doesn't have a good time meeting the puffins.'
Six miles off the Co
Antrim
coast at Ballycastle, and within sight of the Mull of Kintyre and Islay in
Scotland
, Rathlin is a unique place. Northern Ireland's only inhabited island, it is home to around 140 permanent residents and a multitude of rare animals, birds and plants, not least the many thousands of seabirds that return to breed there every year.
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'It's an amazing opportunity for us to turn people on to the magic of connecting with the wild world,' says Anslow. 'We have quite a lot of people who arrive and say, 'So, where exactly are the penguins?' and that's fine, 'cos we've got a bird that looks just like a penguin.'
Rathlin Island: A guillemot returns to land in a densly packed breeding colony on a sea stack as a great black gull cruises above, looking for an easy snack. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
Packed on to the cliffs are approximately 150,000 guillemots, 22,000 razorbills – one of the largest colonies in Europe – and around 1,500 to 2,000 puffins, as well as kittiwakes and fulmars.
Liam McFaul, RSPB warden and Rathlin islander, leads The Irish Times down to the island's famous upside-down lighthouse, which has its light – now automated – at the bottom rather than the top of its tower.
The sound is the first thing that greets us, a cacophony of screeching and squawking as parents and chicks cry out to each other, all above the crashing of the waves. Then there is the smell; the sort of sharp, acrid smell created by thousands of birds packed on to every available space.
RSPB warden Liam McFaul on Rathlin. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
The drama of life and death is played out; seabirds swarm over the feeding grounds, searching for fish for their young, then swoop back to land to feed them while gulls hover above, waiting to pick off any chicks left unattended.
The puffins are the hardest to see. 'They nest in holes in the ground,' explains McFaul, 'so you rarely ever see a puffin chick, or puffling, and when they're ready to go they will creep out in the hours of darkness, scurry down the bank, into the water, and away.'
McFaul speaks with the fondness and familiarity of someone who has spent his life around these cliffs and their birds. Born and raised on a farm on the island, 'I would have been fishing in and around the cliffs and watching the birds all the time. The old people would nearly tell you the weather by the activity of the birds.
'The cliffs were our playground. I've seen everything, in every season.'
To this day, he sees everything. Driving The Irish Times around the island, he stops repeatedly when something catches his eye, be it a rare lesser butterfly orchid, a bird – 'that's a stonechat there' – or a cave which, during the Neolithic period, yielded stone for axes which were traded as far away as France.
Corncrake-friendly fields on Rathlin are cut late in the season, and have grass left in the centre and along the edge for the birds to hide in. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
'What's that expression? He's forgotten more about Rathlin wildlife than anybody else will ever know,' says Anslow. 'People told me he was actually the first person to identify the golden hare.'
McFaul's own eyes light up as he describes the beauty of the hare, which is unique to Rathlin.
'They are absolutely amazing, they're just pure yellow, like a big yellow cat. Hares generally have nice hazel brown eyes, but these guys have bright blue eyes.'
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The island's big success story is the corncrake. Once common along the north coast, it was facing extinction due to the impact of modern farming practices on its habitat, but extensive conservation efforts brought it back to Rathlin in 2014. 'We've got six calling males here this year.'
It is easy to see the corncrake-friendly fields. They are cut late in the season, and with an oasis of grass left in the centre for the birds to hide in, and along the edge; the result of extensive education – and adequate compensation – for farmers.
'The corncrake's one of those species that could slip away out of existence very easily,' says McFaul. 'You have to do your bit.'
The uniqueness of Rathlin's wildlife and landscape has also been doing its bit for the island, attracting everyone from walkers to nature enthusiasts to people who simply want to experience an island.
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'That means there are staff needed – people come and they want their cup of tea, and all around the island they need places to stay.'
McFaul has seen the island change since his own childhood, from the time when 'parents kind of pushed the kids away, saying there's nothing for you here, get a decent education and go off and get a job on the mainland'.
Now, he says, 'it's very different. A lot of kids are coming back and moving into family businesses. At this time of year, because tourism has become so busy, there is just enough of a workforce to facilitate it … in a couple of cases, we have people commuting to work here.'
Modern technology also means people can work remotely from Rathlin. 'There's a friend of mine writes computer programmes, and he doesn't ever have to leave the island.'
One new arrival is 23-year-old Saffran Lockett from Somerset, a summer volunteer at the seabird centre. She used to live in London, and found it was 'living to work rather than working to live. I love it here – it's quiet, wild, and I've found a lot of freedom in it.
RSPB volunteer Saffran Lockett, from Somerset. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
'I can go out on a walk on my own and feel safe and explore, that's not an experience I've had before.'
On Rathlin, 'I've found a peace and a calm that I think nowadays are a bit lost.'
At the centre, another bus full of visitors has arrived from the harbour; they gather around the whiteboard of 'exciting sightings', which tells them that so far this season, as well the birds, staff have spotted a porpoise, a minke whale, a dolphin pod and a racing pigeon.
Guillemots on Rathlin. Photograph: Nick Bradshaw
Looking forward to seeing the birds are Michael O'Brien from Doonbeg, Co Clare, with young relatives Sarah and Patricia Trainer from Belfast.
'The other day, we went past the tipping point [for the warming of the Earth], says Sarah. 'You have to appreciate what's still here, while it's still here,' emphasises Patricia.
But, says Anslow, Rathlin shows that with 'persistence and people who are there for the long haul, really extraordinary things can happen.'
Soon, the birds will depart. The pufflings will waddle into the sea; the baby razorbills and guillemots will jump from the cliffs. 'It's so epic and emotional,' she says. 'We're all saying, good luck guys, take care out there.
'It's special, but it's short window of opportunity,' she warns. 'Anybody who wants to see a puffin, you've got to be here before the end of July.'
