Birding in United Kingdom ( RSPB Bempton Cliffs, Yorkshire coast)

Half a Million Birds, Two sessions and One Very Happy Birder

Ocean birds spend most of their lives away from land, riding the ocean waves and winds. They do return to rocky islands and remote shores to breed.

Birds surely fly, so does time and both wait for none. One such instance we faced in the month of August of 2023 (To read click) , where in we reached South Stack, couple of miles from Holyland, Anglesey in Wales only to find out that most ocean birds had flown back to the ocean. 

So we promised ourselves to see them some other day. Here we were a little late again, but just in time. Though the destination was different the motive was same, see the Atlantic Puffins and the other ocean dwellers.

RSPB Bempton Cliffs – Evening of 22nd July & Morning of 23rd July 2026

RSPB Bempton Cliff - Image by Yash Kothiala

There are some places that quietly remind you why nature never needs a script. RSPB Bempton Cliffs is one of them. Standing on the towering chalk cliffs above the North Sea, surrounded by the calls of hundreds of thousands of seabirds, you quickly realise that this isn’t simply birdwatching—it’s attending Britain’s loudest, smelliest and arguably most spectacular avian music festival. Bempton Cliffs has been attracting seabirds for thousands of years. Around half a million seabirds gather here each breeding season, making it one of the largest mainland seabird colonies in Britain. 

Image by Yash Kothiala

Long before telescopes and digital cameras, it seems the local people collected eggs from these towering cliffs—a dangerous occupation requiring ropes, courage and perhaps a questionable understanding of workplace safety. They would leave enough eggs so that the supplies for the following years would be possible.

Thankfully, today’s visitors only risk dropping a lens cap or their hats on this breezy cliff

Bridlington History  

Evening Session – Wednesday, 22nd July

The evening greeted us with pleasantly warm summer weather, broken clouds, light coastal winds and excellent visibility over the sea—ideal conditions for lingering at the cliff edge as the golden light softened the white chalk. 

Although late July marks the winding down of the breeding season, the cliffs would still be buzzing with activity. Northern Gannets dominated the skyline, gliding effortlessly. The signboard read out loud, “take a closer look…” , the image from Year 1 to Year 5 were showed us the different plumages we would see the Gannets in. 

Northern Gannet (Probably in its Year 3) - Image by Aseem Kothiala 

Northern Gannet (Adult) over the ocean - Image by Yash Kothiala 

Northern Gannet (Adult) - Image by Aseem Kothiala 

Black-legged Kittiwakes filled every available ledge, probably constantly arguing with neighbours over whose imaginary property line had been crossed. If social media existed for seabirds, Kittiwakes would spend all day posting complaints about next-door noisy neighbours.

Black-legged Kittiwake - Image by Aseem Kothiala

We sighted half a dozen Razorbills swimming away slow over the waves and a dozen plus Guillemots (Common Murre) who stood shoulder to shoulder on narrow cliff ledges, somehow managing to look both elegant and permanently confused. They would mostly face the cliff, only to face otherwise, if they had to plunge to take a flight.

Razorbill - Image by Yash Kothiala

Black-legged Kittiwake - Image by Aseem Kothiala

Joyous moment was when we learnt that Puffins were still around to be seen— though fewer than what one would see during  the peak season. Almost every visitor to the cliff enquired about them. Obviously they seemed to be  one of Britain’s most loved seabirds, despite facing increasing pressures from declining sand eel populations, avian influenza and changing ocean conditions.

Atlantic Puffin - Image by Yash Kothiala

Down below they flew like darts (black in colour) turning swiftly back towards the lower parts of the cliff, a lifer, but flying far and low, every sighting produced the childish excitement within us. These charismatic little birds, often called “clowns of the sea,” seemed to have been done raising their chicks for this season. We got lucky when we sighted one, who popped out into view just long enough to make everyone nearby raise their binoculars in excitement. They have a remarkable ability to disappear the moment you point a camera at them—clearly a skill perfected over thousands of years. Glad it obliged and stayed longer that moment for us.

European Herring Gull - Image by Aseem Kothiala

A couple of Fulmars cruised effortlessly along the cliff face, barely moving a wing as they surfed invisible air currents.

As the sun began to sink lower, we were expecting the colour of the sky to get dramatically red and orange. However it had it own mood and was getting greyer and dull. White cliffs were missing the glowing sunshine today. Soon we could see the sea had swells and started to look rougher. The very reason the boat ride for pelagic was called off for today and tomorrow. 

Morning Session – Thursday, 23rd July

Returning the next morning felt like arriving at the same theatre before the audience had fully settled. The air was fresher, the light cleaner and the sea almost hypnotically calm but with huge swells. Morning birdwatching has a different rhythm, unlike the evening when the pace is mellow.

Western Barn Owl - Image by Yash Kothiala

Western Barn Owl - Image by Aseem Kothiala

One of the highlights came almost immediately—a beautiful Barn Owl silently quartering the fields. It’s one of those magical encounters that made us stop walking and simply watch. 

Away from the cliffs, the hedgerows were full of life. Reed Buntings, Corn Buntings, Linnets, Greenfinches, Robins and Blackbirds all made appearances, while a lone Sedge Warbler added its unmistakable song to the morning chorus. Swallows skimmed effortlessly overhead, Jackdaws called from the cliff tops, Carrion Crows patrolled the fields and a few Wood Pigeons wandered around looking as though they had absolutely nowhere urgent to be.

Eurasian Blackcap - Image by Aseem Kothiala

Reed Bunting - Image by Aseem Kothiala

Sedge Warbler - Image by Aseem Kothiala

Corn Bunting - Image by Yash Kothiala

Adult gannets were already commuting offshore. Most of the chicks had already grown and were ready to plunge for themselves. We could not witness them carrying food for the young. Kittiwakes seemed no quieter than the evening before—which is impressive considering they had apparently been shouting all night.

Guillemots continued their cliff-side balancing act, occasionally shuffling just enough to make observers instinctively hold their breath.

Guillemot - Image by Aseem Kothiala

The remaining Puffins made brief appearances, often carrying fish or disappearing into burrows before our cameras had finished focusing, eventually making us realise, Puffins possessed an uncanny ability to vanish exactly when autofocus finally locked in.

Atlantic Puffins - Image by Yash Kothiala

Away from the cliffs, Skylarks sang above the grassland while Linnets and Meadow Pipits flitted among the wildflowers. If fortune smiled, a Peregrine Falcon made a dramatic fly-past, instantly scattering thousands of seabirds into the air like confetti from nature’s own cannon. 

Birdwatching at Bempton wasn’t just about ticking species off an eBird list. It was more about standing on the edge of Yorkshire while life unfolds in every direction—thousands of wings overhead, endless conversations on the cliffs, the salty North Sea stretching to the horizon and the occasional Puffin reminding everyone that nature has an excellent sense of comic timing.

As we left on the morning of the 23rd, one thought lingered: no matter how many photographs you bring home, the soundtrack of Bempton—the cries of gannets, the chatter of kittiwakes and the constant bustle of the seabird city—is something no camera can truly capture.

The morning session recorded 18 species, including a Barn Owl, Peregrine Falcon, 12 Puffins, and several farmland birds, while the evening session was all about the classic Bempton seabirds—Gannets, Puffins, Guillemots, Razorbills, Fulmars, and Kittiwakes.

Bempton has a wonderful way of slowing you down. You arrive hoping to tick a few species off your list, but you leave having spent far more time simply watching, listening and appreciating one of the UK’s greatest wildlife spectacles.

The best part? Every visit is different. The birds change, the light changes, the weather changes—but Bempton never disappoints.

Happy Birding!

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