This certainly does not stop us from launching our Zodiacs: it rather adds to the mystic appearance of this 1300-foot wall, surrounded by washed out stacks and pinnacles, caves, arches and tunnels. In addition, the stern cliff face has neatly eroded narrow ledges and shelves, made visible to us mainly by the hundred of thousands of nesting seabirds dotting the cliff face like so many pearls on a string.
Kittiwakes, murres, puffins, fulmars and, of course, the taxman of this veritable cupboard for a predating bird, the Glaucous gull, share this metropolis with skuas and dovekies, who nest nearby.
A Zodiac cruise along this high Arctic Metropolis of winged creatures is an invitation to the everyday life of almost the full span of north Atlantic colony breeders. And the mist swirled around up there, letting towers and pillars emerge only to disappear again. We rode our inflateables into caves and through arches, to enjoy the highlight of the Pearly Gate, a hundreds of feet long tunnel, drilled through the softer part of the rock by wave- and frost-action.
The sea was dotted by rafts of murres, totally unafraid but maybe a bit puzzled by our presence - in all a tell tale sign of how extremely rare visits are to one of Europe's most impressive bird cliffs. All around us they made small jerks, to tip down in submarine flight to pursue fish, and quite a few were so well fed that they had significant problems in taking off. In energetic rushes, their feet creating a wake behind them gave us a hint about the origin of the word runway.
We were all happy about the fact that the Caledonian Star was to stay at anchor overnight in Walrus Bay, a name by the way, which belies the total absence of these creatures in the area, to let us have a second chance on new zodiac- and land-excursions tomorrow.