From Hornsea to Bridlington on the beach

A spring tide, a couple of hours after high tide gave me an opportunity to do this walk that I had planned for some time. A warm, sunny day was something that couldn't be planned, but gave the perfect setting to enjoy this northern section of the coast of the Holderness peninsula. I took the 24 EY bus to Hornsea and got to Marine Drive at 9:30. I walked along the promenade and descended the steps to the beach. A wide expanse was already available. I explored the sandy upper beach and spotted two Small Coppers and two Common Blue butterflies. After some more recording it was time to start walking. The sky is so clear that Flamborough cliffs are visible on the horizon.

The view north from Marine Drive.

Cormorants.

Small Copper.

The upper beach just north of Hornsea.

Woodpigeons drinking from a small rivulet of fresh water draining from the cliffs.

Meadow Pipit.

The beach is mostly sand, peppered with small pebbles, with shingly sections in places, and pleasantly firm under foot. Soon I reach Double Gates, the entrance to a boatyard compound. Here the erosion is more noticeable, with an undercut at the bottom of the cliff excavated by the sea and a steeper beach. 

Double Gates.

Undercut at the cliff.

Looking back towards Hornsea.

Digging for bait.

A few people are walking dogs, or digging for bait, but away from easy descent points, soon there are few people around. The wide beach encourages sea birds to land and loaf. Herring Gulls, large groups of Common Gulls, Black-headed Gulls, and the occasional Great Black-back Gull form loose groups. Terns, both Sandwich and Common, often sit on the edges of these gull flocks. Even Cormorants sit at the edge of the water, wings open, preening. Walking north on such a sunny day with the sun on your back makes it easier to scan these flocks looking for something rarer, and this is how I spot the only Mediterranean Gull I see today.

Great Black-back Gull.

Sandwich Terns.

Adult Mediterranean Gull.

At particular places there have been slumps of sections of cliff. These sometimes male the the vegetated slopes more accessible. I climb one of these slumps near Skipsea Withow and I find two Araneus quadratus or Four Spot Orb-weaver on their webs, which they usually hang low on the vegetation.

Araneus quadratus.

The layer of dark peat marking the Withow Gap, the site of an old drained mere.

A trunk section sticking out of the peat. This was the site of a Beaver dam.

Withow Gap from the beach.

I stop for a quick lunch on the gap. A Buzzard soars over the field, and a Kestrel hovers later, announced with the alarm calls of Swallows. The view to the north is quite wonderful from this spot (top shot).

Buzzard.

The infilled lake bed is now a pasture.

Kestrel over the pasture field.

A loafing group of Common Gulls.

Balls of peat eroded from the cliff face litter the beach north of Withow Gap.

Common Gull.

One of two Wheatears on the Galleon Beach fish and chips, which is now perilously close to the cliff edge. The old coastal defences of Ulrome long gone.

I climb the small cliff to avoid walking on the outflow at Barmston Main Drain, where there are many birds gathered, them climb the rocks back down to continue on the beach.

Steps cut onto the clay offer beach access to the holiday park.

North of Barmston, there is no cliff, the beach is separated from the footpath by a small step, the sand blowing onto the adjacent field. This low lying land is the site of another old mere, a layer of peat visible on the beach.

The exposed layer of peat on the beach north of Barmston.

The low lying land has a couple of drains onto the beach.

Sand Martin colony. I saw a couple of Sand Martins in flight, but the colonies scattered along the walk were eerily quiet, the young probably all fledged and gone.

As I approach Fraisthorpe beach, I spot a group of Tree Sparrows on the clifftop bushes. I walk to the Cow's Shed cafe, looking forward to a hot drink, but I'm disappointed to find that they close on Mondays (and Tuesdays!). I make a quick stop to drink water on the picnic benches, and as I leave the cafe grounds, I see five Yellow Wagtails on the path, a lovely surprise that compensates for the lack of coffee! I have seen them on the farm before and I'm very pleased they are hanging around. Bridlington is less than 5 km away, and I increase my pace to catch the 15:40 train to Hull.

Tree Sparrows.

Yellow Wagtail.

Yellow Wagtails.

Holderness: Withernsea, Owthorne, Waxholme and Sand-le-Mere

I have done all, or parts, of this walk in the past: in May 2020 as part of the Migrants Way, when I was lucky enough to explore first hand the ancient submarine forest at Sand-le-Mere. Then in December same year, when we went to see the stranded Sperm Whales along this section of the beach. I wanted to avoid visiting the coastal towns and villages I've visited before for this Holderness Walks series, but it is hard to avoid the sea breeze when a heat wave is raging inland. I took the 8:00 X7 bus to Withernsea, the temperature was already hitting 20 oC as I walked to the station. I'm a bit early and the tide is still flowing, so I walk around the town, exploring St Nicholas church, which appears to be closed and being refurbished. The churches at Withernsea have had a rough time through history, this one was built in the 15th century to replace the Church of St Mary's, lost to coastal erosion. Withernsea (or should I say New Withernsea, the old one a casualty of erosion too) had a great spurt of development after the arrival of the railway, and the survival of this church, which lay in ruins for 200 years, is partly due to investment by the owners of the railway, which wanted to enhance the town for tourism reasons.

 The sea breeze is wonderfully cool, aided by a southerly wind. It is also nice to walk north on a sunny day like this. The town is busy with Swifts, House Martins and Swallows. Most Herring Gulls have young, their plaintive, whistling begging calls coming from their nests in chimneys and roofs. I'm careful not to stare at the young, as the parents are very wary and will start alarming, after the most minor of motives.

Lesser Black-backed Gull.

Herring Gulls with their young.

St Nicholas Church.

A detail of the walls, made of cobbles and pebbles, the most easily available material.

Young starlings, some already moulting into their adult plumage.

Withernsea Lighthouse.

A Swallow looks to other swallows perched on an aerial above.

Young Swallows.

House Martin in its nest.

Comma.

Owthorne Walk. 

On the North side of Withernsea sat the village of Owthorne, in the mid 19th century, before the railway arrived, it was larger than Withernsea. Today it has been subsumed by Withernsea, it is effectively an area in Withernsea. Its name survives in a footpath and a street, Owthorne Walk, leading to the sea. After exploring the walk, and ticking off Owthorne, which I had included in my list of villages, I take the promenade heading North, and then descend the steps onto the beach. The tide is now low enough and there is a wide sandy beach. The sea defences of Withernsea mean that sand collects north of the town. The effects of this is clear, the cliffs are more sheltered from erosion and there is a higher sandy beach that appears not to flood at high tide. Sea Rocket is colonising the strandline, with some young plants of this year. Unfortunately the plants are affected by some parasite and there are no flowers. Sand Martins and House Martins fly along the beach. I notice House Martins flying around a seepage and wonder if they are collecting mud from it. I hear two Meadow Pipits displaying above and flush a couple of Linnets.

Meadow Pipit.

A Black-headed Gull resting on the beach.

A Sand Martin chases an insect.

Sand Martin colony.

Sand Martin.

Sand Martin flying around its colony.

The tide hasn't exposed a small stretch of beach in the horizon, by Waxholme, but it's only a matter of minutes. I linger around it and cross it as soon as a wave recedes. I almost bump onto a couple with a dog, who are walking in the opposite direction, as we cross at this pinch point. The beach rises and widens again quickly after this, and there are shingle banks and hollows off the cliffs. The cliff is rapidly reducing in height, until I get to Sand-le-Mere, where there is no cliff, there is an opening and a slope (top shot). A few years ago there was a boatyard, but there are no boats today. Sandwich Terns call from far offshore and a flock of Shelduck fly against the wind, and then decide to alight on the sea. I walk on the rapidly eroding bank separating the sea from the low lying fields to the west, part of the basin of a lost mere, Sand-le-Mere ('Sandley Marr' in Jeffrey's 1771 map). This bank is no longer repaired and has large gaps. Tunstall Drain takes water to the west too, ending in Keyingham Drain and Stony Creek in the Humber. A managed realignment scheme protects the road itself, eventually letting the remaining basin of the mere being flooded again at spring tides and storms.

Shelduck.

The coastal path has been diverted inland here, across the caravan park of Sand-le-Mere. I take it, lingering on the several lakes of the park, and eventually find a shady spot by a lake to have my lunch. If it had been cooler I would have carried on to Tunstall, but its the middle of the day and much warmer inland. I watch the waterfowl and record some dragonflies before catching the bus back to Withernsea, and then home.

Red Admiral.

Swift over Sand-le-Mere.

Black-tailed Skimmer.

Mute Swans and cygnets.