Up the creek

Norfolk Wildlife Trust's David North explores Norfolk’s last true wilderness in a traditional crabbing vessel. 

Henry and My Girls, David North

Its 6.30am and I’m in Wells to meet Henry, and to board his restored crab boat, My Girls. It’s been blowing a brisk northerly for the last couple of days but fortunately the heavy skies and heavy rains of the last 24 hours have been blown elsewhere and the early morning sun is bright on Wells marshes.  And it’s the marshes I have come to explore.  Not many boats could attempt the narrow saltmarsh creeks that wind their way between Cley and Wells. And not many navigators know these creeks well enough to attempt the journey and find safe passage through this maze of sinuous, shallow and ever-changing channels. The great thing about ‘My Girls’ is her shallow draft. As long as we have a couple of feet of water under us Henry says we should be ok and that traditional crab boats were made for just this landscape.  So on a rising tide we are off, and with the town of Wells slowly disappearing behind us we head east towards Stiffkey and into a landscape as wild as anywhere on this planet.

Leaving Wells behind, David North

I love the North Norfolk coast – its wildlife and its wildness – and I think I know this coast quite well.   I have walked the marshes over many years and once was lucky enough to fly over them in a small plane, giving me a birds-eye-view and revealing intricate patterns invisible when you are on the ground.  But being in a boat brings a new perspective. Exploring the marshes on foot means being out at, or near, low tide.  Here in the boat we are out amongst the marshland on a rapidly rising tide. Everywhere is movement and change: what was solid land moments before becomes water. Water that moves in strange patterns with currents running both up and down a creek at the same time, creating swirls, mini-whirl-pools, upwellings, calm, oily flats and silver sunlit ripplings. 

 

Big skies across the Marshes, David North

We ground several times, but, on a rising tide, its usually just minutes before, with Henry at the tiller, our outboard swings us back into the current and eastwards towards Morston.  There are ancient wooden posts that jut from the mud that could easily punch a hole in a keel and in one place a low bridge where we must duck as we pass under.  From the boat of course there are those fantastic huge landscape views across samphire and sea-lavendar-decked marshes and those huge North Norfolk skies, horizon to horizon, above.  These will be familiar to all who love these marshes but for the moment, as we navigate creeks barely wider than the boat, it’s mud that holds my attention.   

'Cauliflower and mashed potato' mud, David North

The English language lacks enough words for mud: there is mud here with the texture of cauliflower and mashed potato. There is mud, shiny, smooth and silvered by sun. There is mud that is black, and brown and grey, and even orange in places. There is mud that sprouts miniature cacti forests of samphire and mud patterned with footprints of shelduck and redshank. There is join-the-dots mud, pricked with sowing-machine regularity, by the beaks of now invisible waders. As the tide rises towards its high it becomes harder to see the edges of the channels that our boat, My Girls, most move within. It’s strange to see just the tops of marsh plants waving over a sea of water. There are forests of sea asters, apparently floating, their flowers not quite open yet, but hinting at yellow and purples soon to come.

Oystercatchers, Blakeney Point, David North

Then a change of scene. We are out into open water and catching the full force of swell from those preceding days of northerly winds. It’s exhilarating, and if not quite a roller-coaster, certainly enough to make me hang on tight until we enter calmer waters in the lee of Blakeney Point.  There are black and white oystercatchers at the seaward end of the spit, roosting out the high tide which has covered their feeding grounds. A more careful look reveals dunlin, grey plovers and a single black-tailed godwit amongst them. The lives of these waders is driven more by tide than by day and night. They will feed all night if that’s when the tide is low and muddy feeding grounds are exposed.  There are common seals hauled up on the Point, but the seals that follow us across Blakeney Pit are greys, heads bobbing above the waves, giving us searching, curious Selkie stares before diving, only to bob up again even closer.

Half-way house, David North

We pass inland, or should that be ‘inwater’, of the bright blue National Trust former lifeboat house and then, sail now rigged,  past ‘half-way house’, the watch-house, where once  ‘preventative men’, the early coastguards, pitted their wits against smugglers of brandy, baccy and geneva (gin). I wonder if there are still smugglers today, but sadly, if so, then it’ more likely drugs or human trafficking that’s plied. A sad  reflection on today’s world.   There are gulls and terns that fly over the boat with raucous calls; black-headed, herring and great-black backed gulls and both common and little terns.  Little terns are one of my favourite birds, elegant, graceful with and almost ethereal beauty as they hover before plunge-diving for small fish. I’m not alone in admiring them. It was Simon Barnes who described little terns as ‘what black-headed gulls dream of becoming when they die and go to heaven’.

Coming in to Cley, David North

Our journey ends navigating the newly dredged, but still narrow, river channel through waving reeds to disembark at the quayside next to Cley windmill.  So what will I take away from this voyage though North Norfolk’s wild marshes under the lovely terracotta sails of My Girls.  What I value most is the privilege of time spent in a truly wild place where the only sounds are wind, waves and the calls of curlew and redshank.  Salt-marshes are truly wild: shaped by the forces of nature, scorched by summer sun, swept by winter storm.  Places that are home for waders, seals and some highly specialised and very fascinating plants, but where we humans are never quite at home. Fleeting visitors, like me, that pass through on an adventure, always aware that tide and change makes these challenging places to explore.

Wild places, like these Norfolk saltmarshes, are rare as hen’s teeth in our modern world.  In North Norfolk we have some of the finest, least spoilt and most extensive saltmarshes in Western Europe.  Priceless!  Let’s make sure they, and their wildlife, are protected and valued as one of Norfolk’s most precious assets.

 Exploring  the saltmarsh coast:

Norfolk Wildlife Trust reserves at Holme Dunes and Cley and Salthouse Marshes are great places to see some of the wildlife characteristic of North Norfolk’s coastal marshes.

The North Norfolk coast path between Wells and Cley follows the top of the saltmarshes providing great views over the marshes.

Under sail, David North

If you are interested in exploring the creeks by boat then details of how to book a trip with Henry on his restored, traditional crab boat My Girls, and other coastal adventure trips can be found at www.coastalexplorationcompany.co.uk  

The Ovington Ramblers: Cley and Salthouse Marshes

It was one of the hottest days of the year when we visited Cley, NWT's oldest nature reserve. We parked the car in the large car park at the modern visitor centre, which offers excellent facilities and information. The panoramic view from the cafeteria is truly amazing!

The boardwalks through the reeds are very good with occasional seating and even passing places for wheelchairs. As the breeze rustled through the reeds you could shut your eyes and imagine yourself in a ballroom full of ladies swirling in taffeta skirts.

We were able to cool down in the hides and we sat for some time engrossed in the comings and goings of wild geese, ducks, herons and the beautiful dragonflies. A goldfinch sat just outside pecking away at the thistle seeds.
 

A short distance to the east of Cley is the quieter area of the Salthouse Marshes.  These two reserves and much of the adjoining land make up a Living Landscape project managed by NWT.  Here we saw plenty of yellow horned poppies growing in the shingle and lots of wildflowers in the grasslands including harebells, bladder campion, ladies bedstraw, fox and cubs, yellow vetch and sandwort.

We enjoyed a wonderful day here and when you visit this area you will completely understand why NWT call it their jewel in the crown!

Cley Marshes catch-up: August 2015

Barry Madden, NWT Volunteer

It surely is an ill wind that blows no good. The winter storms that resulted in the devastating sea surge during December 2013 caused extensive damage to the North Norfolk coast, and Cley Marshes suffered too. And yet...

There is more shingle now, piles of it; powered 100 metres inland by the uncontested might of the rampant North Sea. This mass of eroded rock fragments has covered some grassland where skylarks used to sing their sweet song and has smothered small pools where starlet anemones once dwelled. But it has also created opportunities for those birds that love to nest on these exposed expanses, as well as allowing NWT reserve staff to fence off tracts of the extended habitat to safeguard these pioneers. And the carpets of yellow horned-poppies sprouting from seeds dispersed by the flood are to die for.

New pools have been created on the area where East bank adjoins the coast road. These were dug on an area of reed smashed flat by the floods and which didn't seem in any hurry to regenerate. Almost instantly black-tailed godwits, ruff and redshank exploited the shallow water which they obviously found much to their liking. Herons use the area in their prenuptial gatherings and little egrets are regular visitors. Already new reed has enveloped the margins and the islands which will no doubt prove attractive nesting areas for a variety of wildfowl and warblers as it develops further.

The cinnabar moth colony that once festooned the thistles and ragwort along the south side of the raised shingle ridge was eradicated at Cley, but at Salthouse they thrive to still decorate the flowers of both plants. When I visited the area a couple of weeks ago every flower head had insects supping nectar, some had multiple visitors jostling for position. A joy to see.  It was also heartening to see many Essex skippers enjoying the wealth of pale purple thistle flower on offer all along the East Bank.

But for me the most fascinating bonus from the storm damage can be seen at Gramborough Hill, just east of the Salthouse beach road. Here the sea has sliced a chunk off the north face of the small hillock to create a low sandy cliff which has been chosen as a nesting site by a colony of sand martins.

I spent a happy hour there watching the adults hawking insects over the grass clad slopes atop the recently formed cliff and cavorting together over the beach. 

Some newly fledged birds were also honing their aerial skills whilst younger nestlings gathered at the entrance to nesting burrows waiting for the next mouthful of juicy fodder. I snapped away at these incredibly fast moving hirundines trying to capture them in pursuit of flying insects invisible to me. My hit rate was ridiculously low, but a few shots bore fruit and showed some fascinating postures, attitudes and habits. Some images captured birds preening mid-flight with their heads turned upside down to facilitate easy access to their tiny sharp claws. Several caught birds with throat pouches crammed full with insects showing what wealth of prey items are available to them within 100 metres of their summer homes. Others simply illustrated what graceful masters of the air these diminutive migrants are. There is no way I would have been able to properly observe these nuances without being able to freeze the action at 1/5000 of a second. Even then their movements were so swift that only a handful of images were acceptably sharp. Lovely birds, sadly one we seldom get a chance to look at closely nowadays. However these plucky ones have quickly exploited a new resource and hopefully will be a feature here for many years to come. 

An ill wind indeed blew 18 months ago, but it has, in unforeseen ways, blown much good.

Visit Barry's blog at: www.easternbushchat.blogspot.co.uk

Cley Catch-up: 3 March 2015

Barry Madden, Volunteer Bird Guide at NWT Cley Marshes

The temporary cabin at Cley Marshes

Despite the metal barriers, diggers, piles of earth and plethora of hard hats, Cley Marshes is very much open for business. The nerve centre of the operation has temporarily been relocated to a cabin located in the car park. Here you will receive the familiar warm welcome, have access to a limited range of literature and most importantly be able to invigorate yourselves with freshly brewed tea and coffee and a variety of tasty snacks. It won't be like this for long and the plan is to have the whole replenished, revitalised and rejuvenated visitor centre up and running in a couple of weeks’ time, the currently projected date is 14 March. It's all quite exciting.

Once you cross the coast road however the sound of the building works soon fades to be replaced by the tranquillity of the nature reserve proper. Once sat in the hides all you can hear is the piping of redshank, the nasal cackling of shelduck and the tooting and whistling of teal and wigeon. And always the reeds rustling in the breeze. Today was another day of almost unbroken winter sunshine tempting birds and human visitors alike to show in numbers. It was a day of close encounters with some rather colourful and usually difficult to approach birds.

Redshank, photo by Barry Madden

Redshank are now busy pairing up, chasing each other around the scrapes and undertaking tentative display flights, their tooting calls echoing all around. I watched a pair amorously strutting after one another over the mud but it will be a few weeks yet before they place their scant nest in the middle of a tussock somewhere on the marsh. One bird seemed quite oblivious to my approach, seemingly more intent on probing the rich mud for small crustaceans. Strange really seeing as I walk around in a bright blue coat which can be seen from one end of the reserve to the other. A close up view of its intricately patterned plumage is seldom allowed, but when you get a good look at the subtle shading and mottling it brings home to you what a handsome bird it is. Aptly named, its orange-red legs blazed brightly in the strengthening late winter sun.
 

Ruff, photo by Barry Madden

Another wader that tolerated me and my coat creeping ever closer came in the form of a ruff that unusually had decided to have a snooze within 5 metres of the path bordering the coast road. I thought this bird must be sick or injured but it didn't seem to be incapacitated in any way - it simply needed a nap. A photographic opportunity not to be missed and another chance to have a really good look at a rather splendid bird. I've got a feeling this individual was a male on the cusp of developing the outlandish breeding plumage adorned by these dandies of the bird world. The breast feathering on this bird looked as though it was ready to bloom into flamboyant plumes of various shades which of course gives the species its common English name. When I returned for a second look a few minutes later it had moved on.

The bearded tits are still entertaining people along East Bank providing very close views to those with a little patience. People I spoke to were elated to see one so close, and several confessed they had never seen one before in their lives. What a way to break your duck with the sighting of a lovely male bird in full view a mere 10 feet in front of you.

Grey herons are amongst our earliest nesters and a small colony is busy setting up home in the small wood opposite East Bank. The birds are more social at this time of year sometimes flighting over the tree tops or as on this occasion taking part in a prenuptial gathering close to the nesting site. Seeing six of these birds standing side by side is quite remarkable, but they were visible most of the morning standing idly by the new roadside pools.

Herons, photo by Barry Madden

Blondie the marsh harrier, photo by Tom Whiley

And no visit to the reserve nowadays is complete without a sighting of our star bird, the glamorous lady of Cley Marshes, 'Blondie' our resident marsh harrier. She is a formidable huntress and flew in today with a half-eaten prey item, an unfortunate rat or wader of some description by the look of things. It seems that she and her mate will once again set up home in their favoured patch of reeds close to Bishop's hide where more close encounters can be anticipated as the season progresses.

So, it's business as usual here. Don’t be put off by the building works, come and visit Janine’s Snack Shack and say hello. And do take time to visit the reserve, who knows you may have some close encounters of your own to savour.

Cley Catch-up: 24 February 2015

Barry Madden, Volunteer Bird Guide at NWT Cley Marshes

The new centre at Cley Marshes, photo by Marion Riches

Cley Marshes is in the process of being transformed. The new education building is nearing completion and looks just great. I was shown around the interior today by proud centre staff and I was very impressed, not just with the facilities that will be available to the public but with the way the whole site now feels cohesive and an integrated whole. As well as being able to take advantage of state of the art interactive interpretation, visitors will be able to enjoy large open areas affording excellent viewing over the whole reserve. Much hard work is also taking place on the reserve itself with dredging of the main drains and the pool on Snipe's Marsh nearing completion, creating a better water management system and much improved areas for wildlife. New pools have been created at the south-eastern corner of the marsh, and these together with well managed flooding of the meadows adjoining east bank have provided excellent feeding and roosting areas for many species of wildfowl and waders that seem to be getting quite used to people walking along the raised footpath.

Today the sun shone from a perfect blue sky, it shone all day and gave a taste of spring. We're on the upward curve it seems and certainly nature responded to this unexpected but most welcome warmth. The marsh harrier pairs were flying together prospecting potential nest sites, shelduck were busy chasing each other and skylarks sang their sweet melodies over the Eye field. Even a few humans were tempted to eat their lunch outside on the picnic tables, proof if any were needed that winter is losing its grip.

Marsh harrier, photo by Barry Madden

My morning was spent walking the reserve perimeter and visiting the hides to see if anything noteworthy had turned up and to engage with anybody who fancied a chat about the reserve and its varied inhabitants. The scrapes were certainly well populated with many wildfowl and waders on show. At times these flocks would launch into the air startled by the presence of some avian predator. A sparrowhawk was a regular culprit and every so often a larger raptor in the form of a marauding marsh harrier would cause panic as it sailed low across the mud. The resident female marsh harrier is a real beauty and on one occasion passed very close attracting many admiring glances from those lucky enough to witness her fly past. It is always worth looking skywards when the birds on the scrapes take to the air en masse and whilst on my break in a crowded visitor centre one such eruption took place as a fine peregrine swooped east to west. There can't be many nature reserves where you can sit munching your lunch in warmth and comfort whilst watching a top predator hunting for its own midday meal.

Garganey, photo by Barry Madden

The afternoon was given over to looking for an early spring visitor in the form of a drake garganey that has been using the reserve for the last two weeks. The bird was not hard to find standing as it was on an isolated patch of raised grass. It was in the loose company of several other wildfowl species that were busy feeding, roosting and generally socialising on the relatively high water level on the newly acquired extension to the reserve. This handsome bird is a very early and most welcome summer visitor and will hopefully linger, attract a mate and breed in the prime habitat at its disposal. It obviously finds the surroundings to its liking and was well at ease snoozing on its chosen patch. Even with its head tucked into its back feathers the broad white flash over the eye was very prominent and provides an easily seen diagnostic feature. After its siesta the bird began feeding and there in the warm glow of the afternoon light its intricate colouring could be fully appreciated. A dark chocolate brown head demarcated by the aforementioned off-white head stripe which extends down its neck, light chocolate breast giving way to an underside of vermiculated greys draped with pointed scapulars. A most handsome bird.

Other ducks were using the flood and on show within yards of the appreciative audience could be seen shoveler sporting heads of metallic green and bronze, bandit masked teal, smart upending pintail, whistling wigeon and the ubiquitous mallard. Resplendent colour on this most uplifting of winter days.