A RECENT VISIT TO THE FARNE ISLANDS. 295 



the Association, and compare them with what we remember in 

 former years, induced us recently to visit the Fames, and the 

 following observations and remarks are the result of a very 

 pleasant and long-to-be-remembered dav. 



It was a lovely morning in June, with a smooth sea and light 

 westerly breeze, when we stepped into our boat in the quaint and 

 picturesque harbour of Sea-houses, North Sunderland. Our party 

 consisted of three adults and three boys, with four boatmen ; the 

 skipper himself, Mr. Cuthbertson, the very mention of whose 

 name is suggestive of the Fames and everything relating to them 

 — fisherman, boatman, pilot, naturalist, sportsman, and, not the 

 least, guide — let those who visit the islands first secure his 

 services, and they will not return disappointed. 



Within an oar's length of the boat, as we embark at the 

 harbour steps, some Arctic Terns and a Kittiwake were beating 

 to and fro, now one and then another stooping to take some 

 small object from the water. Both are lovely to look upon, but 

 the latter seems to us the incarnation of all bird loveliness in its 

 pure white underparts, in contrast with the pale slaty-grey of 

 mantle and black-tipped wings, lemon beak, and dusky feet, now 

 tucked close to the body, but in its swoop pushed downwards as 

 if to press the surface of the water — water so clear and free from 

 impurities, that each feature of the bright aerial creature is 

 doubled as in a mirror. 



Just outside the harbour one of our boys exclaimed, " Look, 

 a Black Guillemot!" and sure, although at first we doubted, so 

 it was — a fully adult example sitting lightly on the sea with its 

 stern somewhat elevated, much more like a Waterhen swimming 

 than a Common Guillemot. Sooty black in plumage, with a pure 

 white patch on the centre of the wing, as it dives we catch sight 

 of the bright vermillion legs and feet. It is a rare bird indeed to 

 be seen off the Fames in June, for its nesting quarters lie much 

 further north, although in the autumn and winter, when in quite 

 a different plumage, it will wander as far south as the mouth of 

 the English Channel. During the day we saw a second off the 

 rocks on the west side of Staple Island. 



Hoisting a brown mainsail and jib, we run straight for the 

 outer island of the further group, the Longstone, leaving Staple 

 Island and the Pinnacles on our port, but running in so close to 

 the latter that our friends were able to take several instantaneous 





