Guillemots are great. They spend the winter at sea, returning to shore for the breeding season. They are well adapted for life at sea, and able to dive to great depths to feed. They've had their share of trouble in recent years, what with the lack of sandeels to feed their chick on and also not having enough food to sustain them in good health through winter. Add to the food shortage is the threat of being attacked by aerial predators such as skuas or large gulls. They are, however, one of natures wee toughies. Last night though, I witnessed a few vulnerable wee souls taking to the sea - jumplings.
"Jumplings" is the name given to the chicks as they depart the colony. Simon King and his wife and fellow broadcaster Marguerite were at Sumburgh Head to film the action. They were filming the guillemots for a sequence in "Shetland Diaries with Simon King" to be broadcast 2010. I've a dreadful habit of yapping the whole time, so I stayed well away at the other end of the reserve. You may have seen some of Sumbrugh Head's jumplings on "Killer Whales in the UK?" presented by Gordon Buchanan. It was broadcast three times on BBC2 in 2008. They used the 1980s pop hit "Jump" (can't remember who it was by - Van Halen or Aerosmith maybe?) as a theme tune.
At around 9pm, I noticed I'd missed my first jumpling jump! On the surface of the sea was an adult guillemot (it is always the male which accompanies the chick) with it's three week old chick by its side. Together they started paddling on the flat calm sea, heading south east. I continued scanning the stack and cliffs, which are crammed with thousands of guillemots. At the base of the stack was a looming presence of a great black-backed gull. Now and then, a herring gull would land in the colony often to be shooed away by daggerlike beaks. The fog was gently lifting and falling, adding to the midsummer atmosphere that is so special to Shetland. After a while, I spotted an adult bird, carefully leading its chick down the slope and ledges of the stack. Five minutes passed, until the chick was almost at the waters edge a few metres above the sea. It hesitated, then "Hop" it leapt of the edge and had it's first contact with the sea. Immediately, the father took to its side and they too headed south east. A moment later, I spotted a single chick all on its own in the sea paddling this way and that. I felt anxious for it, wondering what had become of its parent who could help protect it from the omnipresent black backed gull. I could see various birds on the water a few metres away. The chick seemed to gather itself together and headed towards the group of birds. I saw one with a fish swimming towards it, only to totally ignore it! But relief came a few seconds later when another bird approached the bird and father and chick were reunited and left the reserve.
When I went home, I couldn't help but worry and wonder for the tiny balls of fluff that were now making their way towards Norway. It is such a joy to see that the chicks have actually survived the breeding season. There are still a large number of chicks within the colony, some incredibly small. These younger birds are likely hatched from re-laying pairs which had lost their eggs in the two southwesterly gales earlier in the season. It was heartening to see guillemots coming in with their single fish for their young. Meanwhile up at the top of the cliffs, puffins were returning with beaks crammed full with sandeels. I will no doubt go up again tonight to watch the birds go. If you have a guillemot colony near you, why not pop along and see the action for yourself?
Cheerio
Helen