Up Close With Newfoundland’s Puffins

 Seeing puffins was one of the things I was looking forward to most on this trip to Newfoundland.

We had seen them once before, years ago, but the weather hadn't cooperated. Thick fog rolled in around Elliston and Bonavista, making it difficult to see much of anything, let alone photograph these little birds on the island just offshore. I came home with memories, but not the experience I had hoped for.

This trip felt like a second chance.

Newfoundland is home to hundreds of thousands of Atlantic puffins during the breeding season, making it one of the best places in North America to see them. They arrive in late spring after spending most of the year far out at sea in the North Atlantic, often hundreds of kilometres from land. For much of their lives they never set foot on solid ground, only returning each year to the same nesting colonies where they raise a single chick.

Elliston’s Bird Island

The largest colony is on Witless Bay Ecological Reserve, just south of St. John's, where boat tours give visitors an incredible opportunity to see them. But one of the few places where you can watch puffins from land is Elliston, often called the Root Cellar Capital of the World. A small colony nests on Bird Island just offshore, and every now and then a few decide the grassy cliffs on the mainland are worth visiting too.

When we arrived in Bonavista, we drove straight to Elliston.

This time the weather couldn't have been better.

As we walked to the viewing area, there was one lone puffin sitting quietly on the mainland just across from us. It seemed everyone there was focused on that one little bird. Cameras were clicking from every direction.

I was thrilled. I had seen a puffin up close, the sun was shining, and I left happy.

The next morning we were taking it easy around the Airbnb, enjoying a slow start to the day and browsing the internet. One of my sisters suddenly showed me a Facebook post from Elliston that had been made only thirty minutes earlier.

"There are puffins everywhere."

That was all I needed to hear.

I jumped up, threw on some clothes, grabbed my camera, and headed back to the viewing site.

I'm so glad I did.

This time there were puffins scattered around the grassy cliffs on the mainland. Some stood perfectly still as if posing for photographs. Others waddled along with their unmistakable walk, disappearing into burrows or hopping awkwardly toward the cliff's edge before launching effortlessly into the air.

I wandered around for quite a while taking photographs, hardly believing how close they were.

Then I put my camera down.

I found a spot to sit and just watched.

A puffin waddled only a few feet away from me, completely unconcerned that I was there. Others were flying in and out, as they went off to fish for their breakfast. They chattered softly to one another, preened their feathers, and went about their morning as though the dozens of people watching them didn't exist.

It caught me completely by surprise how emotional it was.

I could have cried.

Sometimes we spend so much time trying to capture a moment that we almost miss experiencing it. Sitting there quietly, watching these funny little birds go about their lives, was every bit as memorable as the photographs I brought home.

One of my sisters was disappointed she hadn't come with me that morning. Thankfully, a little later we visited the Bonavista Lighthouse, where another puffin colony nests on the nearby cliffs. As luck would have it, there were puffins on the mainland there too, so she had her own chance to enjoy them up close.

It worked out perfectly.

People often call puffins "the clowns of the sea" because of their colourful beaks and comical walk. Watching them, it's easy to understand why. But beneath that charming appearance is a remarkably resilient seabird that spends most of its life battling the open Atlantic before faithfully returning to the same tiny patch of coastline each spring.

Seeing them had been near the top of my Newfoundland wish list.

The first afternoon was wonderful.

The second morning was unforgettable.