Fulmars and Eiders on Sanday

Sanday, Orkney, 21 June 1928

Fulmars are quite common on Tafts Ness and glide up and down the coastline on outstretched wings, regardless of the direction of the wind. They are absolutely fearless and manoeuvre past our heads treating us with no greater concern than if we were cairns of stones. On such occasions we could get a good view of their heavily feathered plumped up bodies and their full black eyes gazing downward with a vacant, but kindly, stare.

         When they alight, they appear to never stand, but plump themselves down on their breasts. It is a mystery to know what their business is on this cliff-less coast. According to local information, they surreptitiously lay on the open ground - ‘a white-like egg, as big as a chickens’ I am told, but they are probably laid accidentally and no-one hereabouts has seen any young Fulmars.[1]

All day we have seen but a single Red-necked Phalarope. This is sad news, for it is the rarest and most precious of the Sanday birds. Dainty and gay, it is a delight to watch. Whether tripping along the loch side, sometimes springing up like a wagtail to catch an insect, or whether buoyantly swimming on the water like a miniature duck, this tiny wader is full of graceful charm. Probably one of the causes of its diminution is the practice among the crofters of tethering their cows. In this way, even if the sitting bird can protect its eggs from the grazing animal, as some aver, the trampling hoofs and sweeping rope is almost certain to destroy the nest. Unfortunately the Phalaropes seem to prefer the meadow side of Rummie Loch where the beasts are systematically tethered.

Eider ducks are breeding very plentifully on Tafts Ness. The foolish birds build on absurdly exposed situations in full view on some hummock or on the open grass. Just as if this was not enough, they have a habit of blundering off their eggs a heavy and very self-advertising flight.