Reintroduction efforts in the UK have brought the White-Tailed Eagle back. Craig takes us through his memory of the first time seeing the sea eagle in flight.

The high, surrounding hills are what give this island its name: Hoy, the high isle. Misty plumes of vapour hung above the moors, cloaking the hillside, as if expunged and the rain tumbled down softly and with a denseness that soaks everything. In a lay-by a heavily waterproofed woman squinted enthusiastically through a telescope aimed up at the hill. An RSPB volunteer, she beckoned for me to look, saying “they are just perched there”. Through the lens, and thousands of cascading raindrops, I could make out the hazy outline of an eagle looking out from its eyrie, its head hunkered into its shoulders against the weather.

This was one of a pair who bred successfully the year before, making them the first white-tailed eagles to breed in the Orkneys in 140 years. This pair were not brought here by the well-meaning hand of a conservationist, but by their own wing and curious wandering. They were settlers on the High Isle, presumed to be from Norway and recolonising their former range.

Globally, the species are considered of Least concern on the IUCN red list and can be found from Greenland to Japan. However, in Britain they went extinct in the early 20th century. Portrayed as lamb killers, and even child snatchers, they were heavily persecuted, like many of our other raptors. The last British bird was shot in the Shetland Islands in 1918. Now, after huge reintroduction efforts, and failures, they are a breeding species in the UK once again.

Also known as the sea eagle, it is the largest raptor in Britain, belonging to the genus- Haliaeetus – a group of sea eagles, or fish eagles as they are sometimes known, to which the bald eagle also belongs. With wings vast and rectangular, reaching 2.5m in span, it earns itself the rather unflattering nickname, the flying barn door. An oversized bill, long lanky neck and short tail give the bird an ungainly, almost comical quality. This bird does not have the elegance of the golden eagle, but there is no doubting their powerful presence. They spend extended periods perched or on the ground, the neck feathers flowing like a lion’s mane in the wind. Territories are defended violently, and talon grappling is common during the breeding season.

As with all raptors, the male is smaller than the female. As juveniles, the plumage is darker and the beak black. Gradually, over 4-5 years their colours lighten with each moult before, finally, they acquire adult plumage and reach sexual maturity. During their adolescence, they roam extensively, embarking on multiple long distance sorties, before returning near to their birthplace to settle down and breed. At that age, the head is pale, verging on blonde, looking almost frosty in some. The wedge-shaped tail is white, and the bill becomes completely yellow, a unique characteristic for a British raptor. They tend to mate for life, and occupy the same territory year on year, making recolonisation slow.

The sea eagle is a resourceful hunter, hunting in the margins: on lake-sides, clifftops and the surface of the sea. Carrion makes up a large portion of their diet, especially as juveniles and during winter. Like all scavengers, they are opportunistic, and this has helped to perpetuate the myth that they are a threat to sheep farming and game. They are also known to pirate food from other animals, including otters and other birds.

In 1975, Nature Conservancy (now NatureScot), successfully reintroduced the species on the Isle of Rum, from where they have recolonised much of Western Scotland. Further reintroductions followed on the East coast of Scotland, and now the national population is roughly 150 breeding pairs,. Roy Dennis, one of the main figures in British conservation, has been involved in eagle reintroductions since the beginning, overseeing an early failed attempt on the Fair Isle. Since then, he has been instrumental in developing the programs, making the UK a world leader in reintroductions. His recent book, Restoring the Wild, recounts many of the hurdles and successes he has been involved with, including the reintroduction of red kites and ospreys.

With numbers recovering, and deemed sustainable, the future looks promising, yet the first wild hatchling was only born in 1985, 10 years after the first reintroduction. Being so slow to reach a breeding age the population is still fragile and so the eagles are a red listed species of conservation concern in Britain. The birds are now legally protected which has helped reduce persecution, however, it is still a threat to all our British raptors, and scavengers are particularly vulnerable.

The sea eagle is most often associated with the scraggy coasts but is this is mainly because these places were a final refuge from humanity. Today the white-tailed eagles can still be found in healthy numbers in the lowlands of Europe, such as the Danube Delta of Romania, where they coexist alongside farmers. There is plenty of evidence to suggest that eagles were once common in lowland Britain too, with the Eastern wetlands being a prime stronghold as recently as the times of the Romans. Past attempts to reintroduce to East Anglia have all been halted, mainly by poorly-informed public opinion.

In 2019, the same year I saw my first sea eagle on the hills of Hoy, the Roy Dennis Foundation and Forestry England began a 5 year program to release a total of 60 birds to the Isle of Wight in Southern England. So far, 24 young eagles have been released. A fitting place. The last pair to breed in Southern England nested on Culver Cliffs, on the Eastern side of the island in 1780.

On a late spring morning, whilst visiting the island on holiday, I sneaked out to a nearby RSPB reserve. The reserve protects a river estuary and I arrived as the warm sun broke across the reeds of a sweet marsh where cattle roamed freely. The air was alight with the submarine clicks and whistles of displaying lapwings whilst underneath it all, the French horns of geese tremored throughout. In less than half an hour, I saw my first eagle of the day. A flicker of movement in the low light drew my attention to a clearing in the scrub. Wings raised, a headdress of feathers flowing, a young sea eagle charged in clumsy stomps at an unwelcome entourage of crows. Its plumage was dark and mottled, the mark of a juvenile; its bluish-black bill yet to turn yellow.

After sitting for minutes, the eagle took flight abruptly, flying into the sun with lumbered strokes, before turning and dropping into a shallow dive, low and fast over the river that runs through the centre of the reserve. The reeds rushed past as I panned my binoculars. As if bubbling to the surface, the tempo rose to a clammer. Horns flaring, flushed wildfowl exploded into the air as the monster flew through, a looming shadow flying out of the Sun. A flyby like this rarely ends in a catch but the tension in the air was palpable. Later I watched this same bird with another perched on a dead tree, whilst a pair of marsh harriers swooped at them.

Many of the local birdwatchers at the reserve seemed bored and unimpressed with the Eagles, one even describing them ‘as boring as a plank of wood’. They are renowned to perch for long periods of time but for me the novelty was still fresh, and it was heart-warming to see such an impressive animal returning to our lowlands. These animals are part of our natural and cultural history and to see them in the wild is to see our natural heritage restored.

Benedict Macdonald’s Rebirding takes a look at the state of Britain’s ecology from the perspective of birds, making a strong argument for rewilding. Reintroductions are often criticized as a single-species approach to conservation with focus for celebrity animals. These species, such as eagles have a high ecotourism value: just one white-tailed Eagle is worth up to £5 million to the local economy on the Isle of Mull. Understanding the economic value of wilderness is a necessary step in restoring our wildlife and, also, a powerful solution to rural economic decline, a point that MacDonald puts across strongly. Flagship species also raise the profile of conservation in general, which carries far wider and indirect benefits. In the case of the sea eagle, it’s unlikely that we would be seeing breeding birds in Southern Britain in our lifetimes without reintroduction.

As I drove away from the reserve that day, the pair circled high, two magnificent sailors in the sky. The following week I was overjoyed to hear that plans to reintroduce the white-tailed in Norfolk have been approved.

You can follow the escapades of the Ilse of Wight Eagles on Roy’s blog.

References:

Marianne Taylor & Stig Frode Olsen (2007). RSPB British Birds of Prey. London: Bloomsbury Wildlife.

Craig Dibb

A seafarer, passionate ornithologist and environmentalist, Craig aspires to reconnect people with nature through photography and writing. He draws inspiration from his explorations of the south coast of England by sea and watching Red Kites soaring above his childhood home in the North Wessex Downs. Craig is an Engineer in the Marine Renewable industry during the day, with plans to relocate to the Orkney Isles.

You can follow Craig’s adventures on his Instagram account @craigography.

The Return of the Once Extinct White-Tailed Eagle

Reintroduction efforts in the UK have brought the White-Tailed Eagle back. Craig takes us through his memory of the first time seeing the sea eagle in flight.

Craig Dibb