There Be Gold on Them Rocks, Me Hearty!

 An autumn treasure hunt for Golden Plovers at Sker Point, Porthcawl.

Arrr, there be gold on them rocks, me hearty! And I wasn't going to leave Sker Point until I'd found me some treasure!

I recently returned to Sker Point, near Porthcawl, on another quest to photograph one of my favourite autumn waders, the magnificent Golden Plover. On my previous visit, I had managed to find just three of these beautifully camouflaged birds, but I was hoping that this time I might strike gold with a much larger flock.

My morning had started at dawn at Trecco Bay, photographing Sanderlings and other waders along the shoreline. The day had begun rather cloudy, but by the time I arrived at Rest Bay to begin the 45-minute walk along the boardwalk to Sker, the clouds had given way to glorious sunshine. It was turning into one of those lovely warm autumn days, with blue skies and barely a reminder that winter was slowly approaching.

I arrived at Sker to find a very high tide, and quite a big one at that. The rocky landscape was almost completely submerged, with only the highest formations protruding from the sea like small islands and narrow strips of rock.

Sker Point is a fascinating place. Its dark grey and black rocks have an almost moonscape-like appearance, riddled with rock pools and covered in patches of yellow and golden-coloured lichen. When the sun shines, the whole place can take on a wonderful golden glow.

On this particular morning, the sunlight was dazzling. The wet rocks glistened, and the numerous pools of seawater reflected the brilliant blue sky. At times, the reflections were so bright that I struggled to scan the rocky landscape through my camera lens.

But somewhere out there, I hoped, was the treasure I had come looking for.

A Glint of Gold!

As I slowly scanned the rocks through my camera lens, something suddenly caught my eye.

A glint of gold!

I stopped and looked again. At first, I couldn't quite make out what I was looking at. The golden patches seemed to blend perfectly with the lichen covering the rocks.

Then I spotted a head. Then another. And another!

Eureka! I'd struck gold!

There, almost perfectly camouflaged against the rocks, was a large flock of Golden Plovers.

What a sight!

I began counting them and estimated there were at least 250 birds roosting amongst the rocks. Their beautifully patterned golden, buff and dark plumage made them incredibly difficult to distinguish from the surrounding lichen.

It never ceases to amaze me just how effective their camouflage is. You can be looking directly at a flock of Golden Plovers and not realise they are there until one moves its head or catches the sunlight at just the right angle.

These really are magnificent waders, and when the sunshine illuminates their plumage, they look as though someone has sprinkled them with gold dust.

Naturally, I wanted to get closer and capture some photographs.

The Art of Stalking Golden Plovers

Golden Plovers are notoriously skittish birds, at least in my experience. They have wonderfully large, dark eyes and an equally impressive awareness of what is happening around them.

I often describe birds as having an invisible safety zone around them. Step inside that zone, and they become nervous. Take one step too many, and the whole flock will take to the air.

Golden Plovers seem to have a particularly large safety zone!

Over the years, I have learnt that patience, careful movement and making good use of natural cover are essential when photographing these birds.

So I began creeping closer, moving slowly between the rocks while carefully watching the flock for any signs of disturbance.

Eventually, I found a suitable rock to shelter behind. I settled down, got comfortable and began taking photographs.

The plovers appeared relaxed, and I was enjoying watching them through the lens when something suddenly changed.

Heads popped up. Necks stretched upwards. The whole flock appeared to go on high alert.

Uh-oh!

I immediately stopped what I was doing. I hadn't moved any closer, so I was rather puzzled by their sudden behaviour.

Then, without warning, the entire flock took flight.

The sky was suddenly filled with hundreds of golden wings flashing in the sunshine.

It was a spectacular sight, but my immediate reaction was disappointment.

Oh, for the love of £$%^. Had I somehow spooked them?

I cursed my luck and slowly got to my feet.

Then I spotted the culprit.

A Dalmatian dog had appeared from nowhere!

Mystery solved.

Unfortunately, dogs running loose around roosting waders can be a real nuisance. At high tide, birds are already restricted to the few remaining areas of exposed rock where they can rest, and unnecessary disturbance forces them to expend energy flying elsewhere.

The dog had certainly put an end to my first photographic opportunity.

The flock headed west along the coast, so I decided to follow them.

The Disappearing Island

After another fifteen minutes of walking, I eventually relocated the Golden Plovers.

They had settled on a narrow strip of rock some distance offshore. The high tide had effectively turned it into a small island, completely surrounded by seawater.

The birds looked perfectly comfortable out there, safely beyond the reach of people and dogs.

Unfortunately, they were also well beyond the reach of my camera lens!

Unless I fancied going for a swim, which I most certainly didn't, there was absolutely no chance of getting close enough for any decent photographs.

I decided to wait and see what happened.

And, as it turned out, the tide was about to lend me a helping hand.

The water continued to rise, slowly swallowing the little island. The available roosting space became smaller and smaller until the Golden Plovers had little choice but to take flight once again.

Up they went, hundreds of birds wheeling through the sunshine.

This time, however, they headed eastwards, back towards the shoreline, and landed on one of the remaining exposed sections of rock.

I looked at their new resting place and smiled.

Right beside them was a large ridge of shingle.

Now that looked promising!

Commando Crawling for Gold

The shingle ridge provided exactly the sort of natural cover I needed to approach the flock without disturbing them.

There was only one thing for it.

Time to go into full commando mode!

Keeping low, I carefully made my way towards the ridge before dropping onto my stomach and crawling up the slope.

Anyone watching from a distance must have wondered what on earth I was doing.

I eventually reached the top, carefully positioned my camera on the shingle and peered through the lens.

Bingo!

There they were, a wonderful flock of Golden Plovers resting in the autumn sunshine.

I was now as close as I could reasonably get without disturbing them, and the view was fantastic.

Their golden plumage was beautifully illuminated by the sunlight, and I could clearly see the intricate patterns of their feathers. Every so often, one would lift its head, revealing those huge dark eyes, before settling down again.

The birds appeared perfectly content, and I was more than happy to stay exactly where I was.

As it happened, the shingle was surprisingly comfortable. The smooth, rounded stones seemed to mould themselves around my body, providing what felt like a rather luxurious bed.

Well, luxurious by wildlife photographer standards, anyway!

I had been awake since before dawn, had already spent hours photographing waders at Trecco Bay and had now walked several miles carrying my camera equipment.

The warmth of the sunshine, the gentle sound of the sea and the comfort of my makeshift shingle mattress were beginning to have an effect.

I must confess that, while patiently watching the plovers, I closed my eyes for a moment.

And promptly had a little catnap!

There I was, stretched out on a ridge of pebbles in my camouflage clothing, occasionally opening one eye to check on a flock of Golden Plovers.

It was bliss.

I'm actually surprised that none of the walkers passing along the coastal path came over to check whether I was still alive.

I probably looked like a dead seal washed up on the beach!

Thankfully, nobody disturbed my little seaside siesta, and neither did I disturb the birds.

Golden Moments

I spent a wonderful time lying there, photographing and simply enjoying the company of these beautiful waders.

Sometimes, wildlife photography isn't just about getting the perfect picture. It's about being out in the natural world, taking your time and enjoying those little moments that make birdwatching so rewarding.

And this was certainly one of those moments.

The sunshine was glorious, the sea sparkled around the dark rocks, and in front of me sat hundreds of beautifully patterned Golden Plovers.

What more could I ask for?

After taking more than enough photographs, I decided it was time to leave my golden treasure in peace.

I carefully lowered myself back behind the shingle ridge and slowly crept away, making sure the flock remained undisturbed.

Once I was well clear, I got to my feet and began the walk back along the coast towards Rest Bay.

It had been a fabulous morning of birdwatching and photography. From the Sanderlings dodging the waves at Trecco Bay at dawn to the spectacular flock of Golden Plovers at Sker Point, the Welsh coast had certainly delivered.

And what better way to finish off a successful morning than with a well-earned portion of fish and chips from Beales?

After all that walking, crawling and even a spot of sleeping on the beach, I reckon I'd earned them!

So, did I find my treasure at Sker Point?

Arrr, me hearties, that I did!

There be gold on them rocks, and I came away a very happy pirate indeed!