From the Archives: Storm Force Petrels at Severn Beach 9th June 2012

Unseasonal westerly gales for two days heralded an unprecedented  arrival of storm driven seabirds in the Severn Estuary on 8th June. Frustratingly work provided an impediment to any thoughts of heading to the estuary on that day. The subsequent reports that evening also brought on a mood of gloom nearly as bad as the weather. Pomarine and Arctic Skuas plus numbers of Storm Petrels had been seen throughout the day off Severn Beach by those lucky enough to be present. I called Badger that evening but he was of a mind to stay local and go to the RSPB's reserve at Otmoor the next day. I knew there would be little to excite me at Otmoor, so, although in two minds and incapable of coming to a decision that night, I half decided on going to Severn Beach but left the final decision until I awoke the next morning.

The next day was a Saturday and by way of novelty in this awful Spring it would, according to the weather forecast, not be raining and possibly even be sunny and the wind would drop. At 5.30am on Saturday morning I awoke. It was dry and sunny but still windy. Well two out of three was not too bad concerning our weather predictors. Decision time had arrived. Lie in or up and about?

I arose and soon after was pointing the Black Audi west. The roads were empty at this hour and I was at Severn Beach an hour later but I had made a crucial error in neglecting to consult the times of the tide. A vast expanse of mud and shingle greeted me plus a Force 6 westerly wind blowing into my face. On the bright side it was remaining dry and sunny. The tide was miles out and so was my miscalculation. No birds. No birders. I had time on my hands. I retreated to an old fashioned and friendly bakery just off the promenade, the same one where I celebrated on my last visit here two years ago, after fortuitously having been in the right place at the right time to see a Black bellied Storm Petrel, a first for Britain.

Fortified by a pasty and slice of home made apple pie I headed back to the promenade. The tide was now very obviously on its way in and it comes in fast here so it would not be long before I had some saltwater to scan and hopefully find some birds. I commenced looking but little appeared apart from two Shelduck and a pair of Peregrines. A subsequent hour passed very slowly. Five Sanderling flew up the river and birders who had sensibly noted the time of high tide began to join me on the promenade.

Finally, in one of my scans with my scope I had a Storm Petrel in view, the first of the morning, heading downriver and out into the estuary. 

Now my attention slipped into top gear. Two more dark shapes, floating on the sea, came into view, two male Common Scoters and then another Storm Petrel appeared as did many more birders until there was quite a crowd of us on the promenade while considerable numbers of Storm Petrels began flying upriver. Bemused passers by enquired what all the fuss was about and were duly informed about winds and seabirds.

The Storm Petrels continued flying upriver from the estuary and possibly passing under the huge structure of the new Severn Road Bridge while others or possibly the same were coming back down the river. 

The new Severn Road Bridge at almost high itde

It was impossible to make an accurate estimate of how many there were but I had around a hundred and fifty sightings ( I ceased counting when I reached  a hundred) from when I commenced watching at 7.30am until I left at 1.30pm. There may have been more or may have been less birds but not by much. More to the point I was probably getting the best views I have ever had of Storm Petrels, so close you could even see the white bar on their underwings, better even than at Pendeen. It was simply brilliant and another birding gamble had paid rich dividends. 

Many of the petrels were close into the shore, granting me exceptional and prolonged views, some even flying right along the shoreline and they moved deceptively fast. It was noticeable how many coming upriver did not feed but just flew at speed, often almost shearing over the waves but on the way downriver many would tiptoe on the muddy water, their tiny webbed feet pattering across the waves as they delicately picked food from the sea's surface. 

At the peak time there were at least five or six birds visible at the same time, all of  them fluttering with upraised wings that suspended them over the sea as they fed, dancing on the waves, facing head on into the strong wind. One bird settled on the sea looking tired and dejected, its wings hung down from its body, supported on the churning water. It looked exhausted and maybe was resting to recover  after taking a battering by wind and wave further out at sea.Thankfully there were no gulls around to seize it and it floated just off the rocks which formed a land defence against the tide race. I could clearly see its down curved bill and tubular nostrils. It drifted in towards the shore, a picture of discontent but then raised its wings and the wind lifted it up and it bounced buoyantly over the running waves as if nothing was untoward.

These petrels will be breeding on islands around the coast further north and west, possibly they are off duty birds free to roam while their mates incubate their egg or maybe they are finding food for an already hatched nestling. All was well with them until the gales caught them unawares out to sea and now they were finding temporary sanctuary in the comparatively sheltered estuary. They are tough little birds, well adapted to a life at sea and its capricious moods and one can only imagine the fearsome force of gales and high seas that has forced them here. I could but wish them well and wonder how many others had succumbed out at sea

The petrel bonanza and adrenalin rush became even better when a shout went up, 'There's a Sabine's out there somewhere, flying in mid estuary!' Panic. 'Where?'  Directions were shouted out but got lost on the wind. I could not at first locate the gull, even though the guy sitting on a bench to the side of me could see it clearly. Patiently he gave me really explicit instructions involving distant pylons, radio masts and turbines on the far shore but still I could not locate it. Then it settled on the sea and was lost to sight. Oh no! I followed his directions as it was now floating fast upriver on the incoming tide,  occasionally visible as it rose on a wave crest then descending into the wave troughs which made it invisible. Why I could not see it became all too apparent when the gull much to my relief lifted into the air and it was obviously far closer to us than where I had been searching. The instructions had been that it was distant but it was in fact anything but. What a beauty and now well and truly in view An adult in full summer plumage. Black and white and grey wings and a beautiful black hood as it rose ever upwards, apparently intent on flying over the bridge. A birder who I  never actually saw as I was glued to my scope ran up behind me gasping for breath. 'Where is it mate?' I gave him instructions about it flying up near the top of the bridge. He found it. 'Cheers mate. Nice'. and then he was gone with me still glued to my scope. As I continued to watch it, the gull like so many seabirds baulked at crossing over the huge bridge and retreated downriver, eventually settling far off in the estuary and never to be seen again.What a relief and what a great bird to see. Meanwhile the Storm Petrels continued flying up and down the river.

Cameras, including mine, went into overtime as the petrels were so close to us. They were however, surprisingly difficult to capture in the camera lens as they moved rapidly across the water. The tide was now turning and birders slowly drifted away as the petrels diminished. A Yellow Wagtail, calling loudly landed behind me on the only grass available. An Arctic Tern put in a brief appearance and the petrels were seen no more. It was time to go. What a morning.