Introduction


When we started walking the coast of England we had no intention that this would become a major lifetime project. Having to make a last-minute arrangement for our summer holiday in 1987, we said "Let's go to the nearest piece of coast and see how far we can walk along it." It turned out well and we started adding further stretches of coast, initially once every two years, but soon annually, or even twice a year.

We had always enjoyed the coast - there is something refreshingly "edgy" about having the sea always at our side, and one of us was into marine molluscs. We also enjoyed long-distance walking and had long been involved in general natural history recording. This project enabled us to combine all three interests.

You soon discover when embarking on a project like this that you need a few rules, which evolve from the first experiences. Our main rule was that we should walk as close to the coast as possible, which meant beach-walking whenever we could (unlike the official coast paths that largely remain above shore, recognising that at high tides the beach may be inaccessible). The route should also be capable of being a continuous walk, so that when we came to an unfordable river we walked inland along its banks to the first place at which we could cross, whether a bridge or a ferry.

We only carried light packs, so that at the end of each day's walk we had the problem of getting back to our car where we started. Initially we walked back, but soon realised we would be walking the coast twice this way! We used public transport whenever this was available - buses or trains, sometimes adjusting our start and finish points to make this easier. Failing this - and it was often not possible - we would phone for a taxi (an increasingly costly option over the years). Having our car with us gave us more freedom as to where we could stay at night - and after a day walking and only light food we were usually ready for being spoiled by a good meal and a comfortable bed! Even so, we stayed on the coast itself whenever there was a decent option.

Each walk was made for enjoyment, it was not a route-march to see how quickly we could get it finished. We therefore took it gently at times when passing through pleasant scenery or where there were many plants or creatures to record.

In terms of biological recording, we systematically noted every bird, butterfly, creature or sea-shell that we came across, sometimes spending time searching for the shells. We could not record every plant in the same way - there are too many common ones - so we were more selective, noting all coastal plants and any others that were not run-of-the-mill.

In our daily posts, edited from our original diaries, we include a star-rating from no star to **** according to our subjective estimate as to how special that day was from the point of view of natural history. This score (and our daily records) will, however, have been affected by the weather - it is difficult to appreciate the environment fully, for instance, in torrential rain, and there are many more butterflies and other insects to be seen in warm sunshine!

A summary of all our natural history records on the walk can be found using this link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1LLGD55lKRHYXd1SGU1QndrcUU/edit?usp=sharing





Friday, 31 January 2014

Yorkshire: Spurn Peninusla 18/6/2008***


 

Staphylinus ater
 
Makeshift driftwood seat
 
Meadow-rue
 
Garden tiger moth caterpillar on sea-rocket
 
Staying at West Mere Farm, we just had a short walk down the road at Kilnsea to the Crown and Anchor pub, and then turned left to cross the Spurn peninsula to where we ended the coastwalk last time.  We went south partly on the beach and partly on the narrow strip of dunes between the sea and the single-track road that travels almost to the tip.  We faced a stiff wind with light squalls of rain from time to time, but insufficient to get wet.  At times the wind blew sand sharply into our faces.  The dunes were mostly marram with much sea buckthorn, but the latter had (for the second year running) a bad infestation of browntail moth caterpillars that had totally defoliated most of them and were now desperately feeding on whatever other plants were around, with many blown away also on to the sand.  The hairs of these attractive caterpillars cause a severe rash and we had to be careful all day to avoid touching any.  The flora was not outstanding, but there was plenty of sea rocket and saltwort re-colonising the upper beach after the depredations of last year’s storms, and in the central dunes a good deal of sea holly.  Dune cockchafers Anomala dubia were abundant, although very local in their occurrence nationally.  There were 11-spot ladybirds, the local Staphylinus ater and two uncommon tenebrionids, Phylan gibbus and the Notable B Crypticus quisquilius.  The beach was sandy with plenty of stones, many of which have been transported from realms much further north by the currents.  There were dry whelk and dogfish egg-cases and many dried specimens of the snake pipefish Entelurus aequoreus, but virtually no shells until we reached the far end, having left the old abandoned Victorian lighthouse behind.  At the expanded tip of the peninsula we were surprised to see a large P&O ferry cross right in front of us, there being a deep sea channel only just off shore.  Turning the corner we were relieved to have the wind now behind us and could find a sheltered corner by collapsed concrete bunkers to have our lunch.  Here we several times saw a Montagu’s harrier fly off the dunes and circle over the beach.  An odd timber construction among the driftwood, suitably arranged, provided a small chair for Val to sit comfortably and rest her back!  North from here the sands gradually changed to saltmarsh, but it was still too close to low tide for the waders to be visible, as they were feeding well out across the Humber estuary.  We did, however, see ringed plovers on the beach and the occasional oystercatcher, dunlin and black-tailed godwit.  At the edge of the dunes on this side were occasional patches of common meadow rue, a plant we have seldom seen on the coast walk.  The beaches and the head of the saltmarsh were dominated by masses of cockleshells, with some whelks and Macoma.  When the saltmarsh came too close we continued along the road, which has been shifted slightly westward from formerly because of the continual shifting of the spit.  Just after the entrance gate to the Spurn National Nature Reserve where we had spent all day there was a pool with brackish water-crowfoot.  Beyond that a path led between the salt marsh and a dyke (with swans and coots) all the way back to the Crown and Anchor.  We arrived just after opening time (4.30) for a refreshing beer before returning to our B&B.




 
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