Hunter

When I first checked the weather forecasts at 5.30 this morning, conditions on Skomer looked set to be apocalyptic, and I was sure they would cancel the day’s sailings. But over the next couple of hours all my weather apps began suggesting that the front was moving eastwards, and predicting that the worst of the storm would miss this tiny bit of the coast. I wasn’t convinced, and nearly cancelled my booking, but at the last minute I let myself be persuaded by the National Trust and Wildlife Trust people that all would be well.

Spoiler alert: all was not well. Within ten minutes of landing I was dripping (very much not helped by the fact that I’d dressed for not going to Skomer, and was wearing jeans rather than waterproof walking trousers), and I spent the next ninety minutes sitting in the only bit of shelter on the island, waiting in a big cold barn of a room with about twenty other people, for an improvement in the weather that felt increasingly unlikely ever to happen.

But to everyone’s surprise, at about 1pm the rain eased a bit, and I immediately decided to make a break for freedom. By the time I reached The Wick, which is one of main viewing areas for Puffins, I was so wet that I decided there was no point worrying about it any more, so I stayed out for quite a while, chatting to one of the volunteers, even when the rain increased again.

People had been saying things like, “These are seabirds - they don’t mind a bit of rain,” but I honestly can’t say that the Puffins looked all that happy. Quite a few of them were clearing old bedding out of their burrows and replacing it with fresh (and very wet) foliage, but not many were going out hunting - and when they did, they had to come in fast and low, and dive into their burrows as quickly as they could, to stop other Puffins or the patrolling Lesser Black-backed Gulls stealing their catch. Given that, I was pleased to get a few shots of this little chap(pess) with its sand eels, but I confess that I only got them because the bird paused to check the path for safety, before crossing to its burrow on the other side.

Eventually I went back to The Farm, where a kind of Blitz spirit now prevailed, and complete strangers were rapidly becoming “Skomer friends”. After another hour of sitting around in drenched clothing I was more than ready to leave, and I definitely wasn’t alone: the guy in charge of the boat quipped that as the day had gone on, each trip to offload people from the island had felt increasingly like a rescue mission.

Next time I find myself in a situation like this, I’ll remind myself about Skomer Day Two, and follow my own instincts. As it was, the three most enjoyable things about today were:
1. A hot shower;
2. Dry trousers;
3. Dinner at Coco’s Brasserie in Dale, which I recommend wholeheartedly.