Atlantic Puffins: a seasonal Highland treat

No matter who joins us on tour, the mere mention of puffins usually causes eyes to sparkle, and I particularly enjoy being able to tell guests that their visit coincides with the breeding season. Around the North Highlands, that generally means late April or early May through to late July or early August, giving us a relatively short opportunity before the birds return to sea. Reaching the colony we visit involves a reasonably demanding walk, but instead of arriving to search for one or two distant birds, we find thousands scattered across the cliffs and surrounding water. With so much activity in front of us, the description of a gathering as a circus of puffins seems entirely appropriate.

You only have to watch a few arrivals and departures to appreciate the entertainment. Those short wings beat furiously as a puffin approaches the cliff, where landing can look rather less controlled than it might have intended, before it waddles away on brilliant orange feet. Yet beneath the water, the same wings propel it in pursuit of sandeels and other small fish, making this apparently awkward little character a considerably more accomplished hunter than its performance on land suggests. Even the colourful appearance belongs to this brief period ashore, because after breeding the bright outer plates of the bill are shed, leaving a winter bird that looks rather different from the one we have come to photograph.

For all the pleasure we take in watching them, the birds have a family to feed, and those repeated journeys out to sea are essential to the pufflet waiting in its burrow. Established pairs commonly return to the same breeding place and partner, sharing the incubation of a single egg before taking on the fishing needed to raise their young. Seeing thousands together can make it difficult to appreciate how vulnerable that arrangement is, because everything depends on finding enough suitable fish within reach of the colony. Warming seas and changes in food supplies have contributed to serious declines in some places, so the abundance before us is something to value rather than take for granted.

I generally allow about 45 minutes here, although once guests are settled on a picnic blanket with puffins coming and going nearby, some are quite content to remain for most of the morning. Knowing where to sit allows us to enjoy that closeness while keeping well back from the cliff edge and leaving the birds’ access to their burrows clear. There is no photograph worth leaning over a drop for, particularly when patience may bring a puffin within two or three metres of us without our moving at all. Add one of the finest coastal views in the North Highlands and you can understand the reluctance to leave, although in the audio blogcast we follow the birds beyond this summer encounter to discover more about the lives they lead at sea.

To learn more, listen to the blogcast or book one of our North Coast Explorer private tours.