The Black browed Albatross at Bempton Cliffs 29th June 2021

Black browed Albatross c Chris Griffin

For quite a few years now one, or possibly more Black browed Albatrosses, a species normally found in the southern hemisphere and breeding in The Falklands and South Georgia, have wandered the seas of the northern hemisphere, often spending the northern summer in a gannet colony, where presumably they feel slightly less lost. Whether it is the same albatross that has been recorded in Britain over thirty times up to now, (they can live for over seventy years), no one knows. The first record of a Black browed Albatross arriving in British waters was in the 1960's when one, predictably nicknamed Albert, visited a number of remote coastal and island locations in Scotland and the additional records that have come since, include Dungeness in Kent at the southernmost tip of England to Hermaness on Unst in Shetland, the furthest north you can go in Britain.

An adult Black browed Albatross was first seen at the RSPB's reserve at Bempton Cliffs in East Yorkshire in 2014  but did not linger. It then appeared again at Bempton in May 2017.  Last year, in early July, an adult Black browed Albatross was again discovered at Bempton Cliffs, no doubt attracted by the gannet colony there. Those lucky enough to be present had eye watering views  as it cruised past the various viewpoints on the cliffs. Mark, myself and Les went to Bempton the day after the sighting, along with many other birders and despite waiting all day the albatross never returned.This was disheartening to say the least as Les  and myself  had dipped what was presumably the same albatross when it was seen passing The Lizard in Cornwall in February 2019. Again we had travelled the day after the sighting only to find it was not going to re-appear.

On Monday evening the 28th July, news came through that a Black browed Albatross had re-appeared at Flamborough Head, being seen at just before 7pm flying north towards Bempton Cliffs. At first I was hardly enthused, having dipped twice and if history repeated itself, knowing only too well we would dip again as the albatross would surely be gone the next day. Later that evening Mark called me and we spoke about the albatross and I became more enthusiastic. We discussed going immediately so as to be there first thing in the morning but decided to wait on news and, it was still there the next morning, head for Bempton.

I left my phone off silent that night and next morning at just before 6.30am there was a discrete ping from the phone.This could signify only one thing. I looked at the phone's screen and there was a text from Adrian, 'BBA is there this morning'. Now we were in with a chance. A slim one admittedly but the albatross had remained for a second day. The big unanswered question was would it remain all day?

I called Mark who is usually asleep at this hour but not today. He answered on the first ring. 

'It's still there isn't it?'  

Yes, let's go. I replied. 

Mark's response was instantaneous 'I can be on my way in ten minutes'. 

'Great. I will rendezvous with you at Leicester North Services in an hour and a half. 

The final word came from Mark 'I'll drive us to Bempton'

I was dressed and on the road before 7am, leaving a note for my wife on the kitchen table. 

'Albatross at Bempton. See you later.'  

Now well used to such occurences she would understand. 

Always when leaving in such haste there is the nagging doubt that you have left something behind. I did a mental check as I drove down the rural road from our house. Bins, camera, scope, wallet, phone and these days, facemask! No, all were present and correct. Onwards!

A familiar and tedious journey commenced across middle England towards Leicester.Thankfully the roads were quiet so I made good time.

My phone rang. It was Mark

Where are you?

Near Coventry.

How long for you to get to the services?

Forty five minutes.

I will be there before you. I'll get us a coffee each and a sandwich.

'Do you have any facemasks? I've forgotten mine' he added

Yes I have loads in the car No worries.

It transpired we arrived almost simultaneously at the services and while Mark got the coffees I  loaded my gear into his car and was ready to go when he returned.

Five minutes later we were heading north, through a rainstorm, then into sunshine, passing an accident on the opposite carriageway. Traffic seemed to be heavy in the other direction but thankfully not on our side.

On the way north I was reluctant to consult my RBA app, fearing the news would tell me the albatross had gone but no, on the first of many consultations, a message confirmed it was still there. The regular checks of RBA on the journey north continued to inform us that the albatross was still present and was sat on the sea and drifting northwards.

Some hours later, near to our destination Les, who was fifteen minutes ahead of us and driving up independently from Essex, called

'Where are you guys at the moment?' 

Near Bridlington

My satnav's on the blink whereabouts exactly is the albatross?

Just follow the signs to Bempton Les. We will meet you in the car park!

Images taken of the albatross earlier this morning were sensational, showing it to have flown very close to the cliffs.We could have kicked ourselves for not having gone last night but it was too late now for recriminations and we just had to hope we might see it as well as it had been earlier. Just to see it was however the main priority for me as it would be a lifer.

We were worried that, what with covid restrictions and the large number of birders mixed with the general public, visiting Bempton Cliffs at its peak time of popularity would mean delay and frustration but we were pleasantly surprised to be able to drive straight in, park and walk down to the cliffs in a matter of minutes. 

Anxiety levels were now of course sky high as we walked rapidly down the track to the cliffs. Enquiries from returning birders elicited the fact the albatross was still sat out on the sea. Distant but visible. Only minutes now and a long held desire to see what would be a mega should be realised. The viewpoint was crammed with birders and a smaller number of bemused public, wondering what on earth all the fuss was about.

As is customary when we made it to the viewing platform we were offered a look through someone's scope and there, a very long way out on the sea was the Black browed Albatross, its black upperparts and huge pale pink bill utterly distinctive. It was impossible to see it with bins and I did not want to go back to collect my scope  from the car as I would lose my place on the very crowded viewing platform.The albatross drifted further out to sea and became increasingly harder to detect but there was always someone who had it in view in their scope so if it commenced to fly closer, as we all hoped, we would know.

The crowd had by now grown to close on to a hundred but the albatross showed no sign of doing anything, other than sitting in splendid isolation on the sea as gannets and auks flew above it. 

Expectations slowly subsided as it appeared we would be in for the long haul on this one. Fairly certain the albatross would eventually return nearer to the cliffs, everyone stood waiting in anticipation. Boredom was not an issue as there was plenty to see, with a continuous procession of Gannets of all ages passing above, below and before us. Lower on the cliff faces nesting Gannets stood guard over their grey fluffy young. Every ledge, even impossibly narrow ones, was occupied by a seabird. A line of pure white Gannets were strung along a narrow ledge across the cliff face, like a string of pearls, every bird facing inwards and sheltering a chick or egg.

Razorbills, black and enigmatic and Guillemots, brown and svelte, stood upright and statuesque on other ledges or outcrops of stone, some guarding their egg or youngster with drooping wings, as others of their kind dropped from the cliff face ledges down to the sea. Others arrived to perch on the cliff, barging their way unceremoniously onto a ledge, despite it already being occupied. Somehow the arriving bird always managed to squeeze in, although subject to an admonishing sharp peck or two. Kittiwakes also had young on the cliff, the adult birds hardly able to fully stand on the perilously narrow ledge on which they had chosen to raise their young.

A small number of Puffins stood on the cliff near to the top, where the earth and grass allowed them to burrow and in which they could lay their single egg. Those present who were not hardcore birders were delighted to have the everlastingly popular Puffins, with their endearing habits and behaviour, pointed out to them and without fail went away happy.

Bempton is also a well known place to see Tree Sparrows which buck the trend in the rest of the country by being almost prolific, many frequenting the bushes around the Visitor Centre where boxes have been erected for them to nest in.They also breed on the cliffs and their cheery calls are everywhere as they fly to and from the fields to feed on the seeding grasses

The hours slowly passed by and the seabird colony maintained an endless cacophony of noise movement and variety as the albatross remained on the sea. The sun was now an intermittent presence and a stronger northeast wind had arisen making it cold standing on the viewing platform for any length of time. Still we waited. Five hours had now passed and there was little sign of movement from the albatross.

The RSPB's Yorkshire Belle, their seabird viewing vessel, arrived below the cliffs, edging ever closer to the nesting seabirds. I will be on it next Tuesday when I  come back to Bempton for two days, having booked an Air B and B at nearby Filey, long before I knew of the albatross's presence. Watching the vessel I became aware of dark grey dorsal fins breaking the surface of the sea. It was a pod of Bottle nosed Dolphins,about ten in all, that commenced breaching and falling back into the sea with a huge splash, playing around the vessel. The flocks of  nearby auks, resting on the sea, scattered in alarm.

Despite a fleece I was feeling distinctly cold and had no option but to return to the car to get another layer of clothing to insulate me better against the wind chill. I was nervous of leaving as the albatross could at any minute decide to fly nearer to the cliffs and I would miss the moment  I took the chance and made for the distant car park, donned another layer of clothing  and as I was returning to the viewpoint, Mark rang my phone

My heart gave a lurch as I knew what he was going to tell me. . 

'Get yourself back to the viewing platform pdq as the albatross is on  the move and coming towards us. Where's Les?

No idea. I stammered, already breaking into a run.

There was no time to waste and I ran as fast as possible back to the viewing platform, dodging members of the public idling along who had no knowledge of the albatross.  They stood back as I hurried to the viewing platform. Another birder, just arrived, sensed the urgency and commenced running with me. By now, in late afternoon, the crowd had thinned considerably on the viewing platform and those left were almost exclusively birders and here for one thing, and one thing only. A Black browed Albatross! I commandeered a place by the rail as various shouts came to me 'Its coming closer. Its weaving in a zig zag over the sea'. I could not find it amongst the incessant movement of gannets and auks in front of the cliff.

'Its by the orange buoy' came a disembodied cry.There were several buoys to choose from. A rising. feeling of panic took hold of me as more and more shouts went up as to where it was.

Another cry, this time from Mark. 'Its almost below us!' . 

c Chris Griffin

I still failed to pick it up and then was advised it had gone behind a fold in the cliff face.I hung on, aware that I was in with the distinct chance of not seeing the albatross. After such a very long wait it would be a personal tragedy.A total nightmare.

My despair changed  rapidly to euphoria as the albatross rose above the clifftop, floating on flexed and enormously long wings. It was as clear as could be, although a bit distant and I watched it cicling above a small group of birders further along the clifftop.

I watched it bend its extraordinarily long and narrow wings into angles as it mastered the wind, presenting a profile quite  different to the Gannets around it. Circling, it drifted north along the cliff top.

I joined a mini stampede to follow it along the cliff but we were a long way behind and getting to another rise there was no sign. It had passed over here, as some birders confirmed the sighting, but no one was sure where it had gone since..

Exultant but wanting more we stood about in a mental vacuum hoping the albatross would somehow show itself once more but it was not to be. Someone swore they had seen it land on the cliff face and felt it had gone to roost.No one believed him. Basilisk eyed Gannets passed along the cliff edge using the wind currents to carry them along. Not one wing flap was necessary, just a bend of the wings and uplifting of tail with huge paddle shaped feet stuck out and acting as  rudders.

Slowly I wandered back to another viewpoint and decided to wait there and see what if anything happened. I watched some Gannets and Puffins for a while and then someone said 'Its back on the cliff with the Gannets at the southern end of the reserve'. How it had got there no-one knew as we had been scanning the sea and not seen it pass.

To get to the required viewpoint entailed another taxing yomp of half a mile, to join another crowd, crammed on yet another restricted viewing area. Mark was there and I joined him, squeezing in behind a row of birders looking out to a relatively distant cliff face thronged with Gannets. I was directed to look at the very edge of the cliff as it plunged down to the sea and there almost on its own, between two distinct areas of Gannets was the albatross sat on the cliff edge

At last, here it was, clearly visible through my bins.No more chasing around. Such was the scrum of birders there was no room for a scope on the platform even if I had brought it from the car. I leant back against a supporting rail, relaxed and just enjoyed the moment. I admired its striking, salmon pink bill and black and white plumage.Its all white head with the iconic black brow, which is really a sooty black line encompassing the eye.When it stood I could make out its huge and grey, webbed feet and short grey tail almost hidden below the furled wings.

Seven hours had passed since we got here and this was our hard earned reward. We deserved it.The views were distant and we had not enjoyed the exceptional views that had been granted in the early morning but, and no one could take this away from me, I was enjoying my first ever albatross at the third attempt, a Black browed Albatross no less and a lifer. Number 512 on my British List.

It was obvious we were not going to get the close up shots we had hoped for, we were unlucky in this respect but sometimes you have to accept the situation and get on with it. Maybe next year!

The main thing for me was that I had finally seen this mega rare bird after two previous failed attempts. 

c Chris Griffin

We watched it for a half an hour as it sat or stood on the cliff, occasionally stretching its long wings and taking one brief flight from the cliff to circle around amongst some gannets, utterly distinctive in the air, before returning to its former perching place

The surrounding light slowly dulled but the light in my heart would not be extinguished so easily.

My grateful thanks go to a birding colleague, Chris Griffin who has kindly lessened the pain by allowing me to include the exceptional images he took the next day from the very viewpoint where we had watched the albatross on the cliff.