Day 94: Brora to Helmsdale (13.1 miles)

This was an outstanding day for bird watching, and a superb coastline, even though the going underfoot was difficult at times.

Martin drove me back to Brora so that I could start out at 10:05. The path headed out to the golf course, and took me around its edge onto the coast. Ahead was a long sandy beach, and with the tide out it was possible to walk out on the sand. With signs asking you to avoid the sand dunes due to a colony of arctic terns, and stay close to the waterline this suited me fine.

I watched an oystercatcher being chased by herring gulls for the food it had caught. Rather to my surprise it managed to shake them off and re-joined the other oystercatchers further back. 

A dunlin surprised me - even though I stopped within 2 metres of it it didn’t move. I was concerned that a dog was following me with its owners but it passed by without noticing it.

I passed a lady who wanted to ask me where I was going, and then continued to cast doom and gloom on renewable energy, whether that be wind turbines or tidal capture. It turned out her husband works for the oil and gas industry.

I was disappointed not to have seen any arctic terms and was concerned that perhaps there were too many walkers.

I headed up towards the dunes and the exit to the beach behind the fence line. I couldn’t believe it when suddenly a colony of arctic terms rose up from the beach below and started to bombard and screech at me. I was really concerned about having disturbed them, and then saw some youngsters down on the sand below. I heard crunching underfoot and looked down horrified - but the path was littered with empty snail shells. Even so, I watched where I was putting my feet and saw another fledgling hide in the long grass. The extraordinary thing about these birds is they fly here in our summer to breed and then fly to the Antarctic for the summer there. An arctic tern will have flown the equivalent of the moon and back in their lifetime. Can you believe that looking at those chicks now! 

I was relieved to move out of the area and see the terns settle back down again. Most walkers don’t come this far down the coast - only those following the John O’Groats Trail, so I can only hope that that level of traffic doesn’t upset them too much.

Oystercatchers and then ringed plover also gave out alarm calls so I was very conscious of keeping an eye out for eggs or young birds.

By 11:30 I had reached a rocky section of the coast and regularly saw eider duck - mostly females, but often with chicks, and occasionally with a smart white male making his characteristic coo-ing noise.

The path went through long grass and a pair of sandwich terns rose up from the pebbly beach below and circled over me, so I kept walking smartly on until they settled again.

The path followed the line of the railway which was closed for the month of June. As the guidebook described, there were a number of lengths where the path was squeezed right to the edge of the beach - fine if it was not too high up and you could drop down to sand but rather more challenging if it was exposed and above difficult rocks. There were also sections where the path went through long grass with loose pebbles beneath making it somewhat awkward to walk on.

I came back down onto another long sandy beach in order to avoid one of the awkward sections. There was not a soul in sight. Wonderful! 

A number of curlew flew by and a couple of male eider duck. As I approached Loth Burn I realised a number of grey seals were watching me from the water - one snorted and then they all submerged, re-appearing as I turned inland to the new footbridge which prevents walkers from having to ford the Burn. I was thrilled to see fulmars flying onto the shale cliff above the bridge.

The path then went up a sandy ramp and a picnic table made out of an old sewing machine base made the perfect spot for some lunch. I was absolutely thrilled to see a gannet appear and start diving for fish. A lady came over from her caravan for a chat. She and her husband had made the table in memory of one of her dogs and were pleased to have walkers take advantage of this superb viewpoint. She confirmed that the gannets had suffered badly from avian flu a couple of years ago so was also hoping that they were starting to recover. She hoped I would see dolphins and orcas further up the coast as well as puffins!

I walked through a pleasant caravan park and spoke at some length with another woman who had lost her mother to dementia 11 years ago. She had a lively Patterdale/cocker spaniel cross who wanted attention.  

There was another awkward section before crossing the railway, and a brief rain squall had me putting on my waterproofs and then taking them off again - it was a very warm and humid day. Now the long grass was wet, and I cursed myself that I hadn’t re-water-proofed my boots.

Going along another fence to my right through some pasture, I found myself again bombarded by terns - this time sandwich terns although they didn’t seem as stressed as the arctic terns. I walked smartly on and was again relieved when they settled back down. A number of cows looked at me warily but moved out of the way without issue.

After a while the path crossed the railway and headed up the hill to the little hamlet of Portgower. The mist started to come down and I resisted putting waterproofs on whilst the trail crossed the A9 and headed inland to get round a couple of deep valleys. The hills above were hidden by the mist and it was clear I was going to have to put my jacket back on.  

I could see Helmsdale Harbour below and suddenly the minor road I was following dropped down to join the A9 leading me into the village. I swung off the main road down to the harbour where Martin joined me shortly after to take me back to the cottage. Despite the light rain we explored the harbour together - apparently Helmsdale had been the biggest herring port in the country at one point.

We noticed a rather noisy gathering of gulls apparently washing themselves at the river mouth. We spotted a large seal swimming close by. On closer inspection I realised that these were black legged kittiwakes and it looked like they were splashing the water to bring up small eels or the like. There were upwards of 60 on the water and at least a 100 on the rocks - a remarkable sight. The seal disappeared…..

Writing up these notes I realised just what a remarkable day this had been for seeing so many different birds at close quarters. I felt very lucky.