We had originally though we were going to stay at the hostel Martin’s Haven, but we discovered it closed almost 2 years ago. Since we decided to push on into Marloes yesterday, we could leave our camp set up and spend the day at Skomer Island.
I got up at 6:30 since no one had set an alarm for today. We had arranged with Martin and Vicki to have breakfast at 8a. Unfortunately, they don’t offer dine in tent service so we were forced out of bed and into a warm dining area. I started waking everyone about twenty after 7. As usual, I met the most reluctance from Bunny T. She never gets tired of using the excuse “I had to get up early for work and kids for 30 years–I’m going to sleep as late as I want.”
I was talking with Martin and discovered that they had biked the Camino de Santiago a few years ago. We got to talking about our travel plans beyond Pembroke. Once we got done eating, Martin offered to drive us the 3 miles back to Martin’s Haven to catch the boat to Skomer. George gushed with relief–I thought he might kiss Martin.
Karen, Pam, and I walked to the Post Office to get some food for lunch (not just stamps in POs here!). When we got back, Martin took us to the dock just minutes before 10 and we made the first boat out to Skomer.
They pack the boat with people! There were 47 of us on there with a capacity of 50. Luckily, it’s just a bout a 10 minute ride out. As we entered the small harbor at Skomer, we saw seals sunning on the rocks just off of the dock. There were also kayakers landing on a beach.
When we got off the boat, we had a short orientation by the warden of the island (apparently this is more of a bird prison than a bird sanctuary). We were told to stay on the trails at all times–there are so many birds that burrow into the soil, the island is more of a sponge from all the nests. She gave a recommended route around the island where we figured most people would head, so we chose the opposite direction which would give us first shot at the 5 established puffin colonies.
We took off clockwise from the dock and had very few people around us. We saw Manx Shearwaters, Kittiwakes, and several different types of seagulls by the hundreds. Even so, my goal was the puffins.
After trying to get everyone moving in that direction (particularly difficult with Pam since there are also hundreds of bunnies on the island–early settlers raised rabbits on the island for food (Pam nearly screamed during the orientation when told that people ate the bunnies).
There were a few puffins in the first couple of colonies we passed, but not very many. We are just a little early for them. By the time we got to the 4th colony, we hit pay dirt. Puffins are not the most graceful flyers. They are more like your drunk friend you tell shouldn’t drive but insists on driving anyway. They drive way too reckless and fast and nearly hit the light pole when they park but at the last minute swerve and hit the light post instead. Then they get out and walk around like that’s exactly what they meant to do and say “where is my house anyway?”
I’m watching the puffins fly around in circles when one almost flys into my head. I duck and he crash lands on a mound behind me then gets up and wanders around looking for his nest.
After all the bird watching, we headed to the old farm for a picnic lunch. There’s also a small museum/exhibition area at the farm as well that we spent some time in.
The plan was to walk all the islands on the trail which would amount to a little over 4 miles. George decided he wasn’t up for it (his feet haven’t recovered) so he turned back after we went to the north side of the island. This saved him an extra mile and a half of walking in which we didn’t see a whole lot other than “bird poop island”. There’s another island about 10 miles off the west coast that looks like it is snow-capped. This is from the 300,000 pairs of breeding gulls and all of their poop. Some volunteers told us the island smells terrible if you get close to it.
By 2:30 I had seen enough birds. Initially, it’s interesting to see all the different sea birds but when loads start falling down on your head, they cease being pretty. They appear more like poop bombers after a while. I was ready for the boat.
As we were heading across the island, a man with a lense almost 4′ long comes running up to us yelling “Sho-de-o, sho-de-o!” Being inquisitive, we asked what he was saying. He responded “A Sho-de-o just flew over your head! Did you see it?” I turned around and other people were running in the direction we had just come from. We said we missed it and headed on. Karen dropped back to find out what was happening and discovered that a short eared owl had just flown over us which is a very rare sighting. There are only 10 breeding pairs in all of Wales.
Once we made it back to the big island, we didn’t have the luxury of Martin to drive us back to Fox Dale. The 3 mile road walk was just hell on all of our feet. Pam and I made it back in time to start a load of laundry before George and Karen got back. We all took showers and then headed to the Lobster Pot for supper.
Since it was a Sunday, there weren’t many people at the pub. What locals there were only having a drink before heading home to eat. A really nice guy started talking to us and gave us some recommendations for on up the trail (The Swan at Little Haven and Druidstone Hotel). We also met his wife and found out she was retiring in just 5 days then they were going to go sailing around Ireland for a few months. I’m sorry that, once again, I have forgotten their names–please email me and I’ll fix it.
Pam and Karen headed back to switch the laundry while George and I stayed for one more pint. As we were leaving, we ran into the first Americans we had met in Scotland. Chuck and Betsy from San Diego were just getting their dinner. They were hiking the northern half of the trail but had a luggage service and staying in B & Bs.
