Tucked away at the very southern end of Whitehead where the railway line slips round the headland is Beach Road Local Nature Reserve. At first glance it has the appearance of being the forgotten corner of the town. However, Carrickfergus Council has carried out work on this site, which includes the former quarry, and there are plans for further development: information boards, improved access and possibly an outdoor sculpture.
The reserve is currently used both by local residents and wildlife. A rope swing attached to one of the trees suggests the local youth use the place as an adventure playground, while not far from the small car park is an information sign that gives a flavour of what wildlife one might expect to see. Mind you, I am always dubious when I see species such as the peregrine falcon illustrated on signs - it is unlikely that casual visitors will see them.
Beside the sign is an area that, during my visit in March, consists of roughly mown grassland with little biodiversity interest. One lady is using it to exercise her dog and some children are playing with a scooter-like contraption. According to photographs on the reserve’s website, however, this ground looked very different last summer. Then it was planted up as a wild flower meadow, full of colour and vibrancy, and doubtless full of butterflies and other insects that come with the habitat. I shall have to return later in the season to see this transformation for myself.
A rough path leads up into the old limestone quarry. Quarrying began on the site in the mid 1700s, and by the mid 1860s the site was providing much of the stone required for the new Belfast to Whitehead railway line. The workings closed in the 1920’s, but not before many fossils had been unearthed, including belemnites and sponges. It was the limestone that gave the headland its name, White Head, which was in contrast to the basalt headland known as Black Head to the north of the town. Now that most of the limestone has been extracted the town is flanked by two ‘black’ headlands.
The track finally vanishes under a tangle of bramble, elder, buddleia and ash. Here and there are emerging clumps of leaves of yellow-flowered Alexanders, and there are signs of calcareous plants such as thyme, thrift and lady’s bedstraw. Significant areas of the quarry have been overrun by Japanese knotweed, currently in winter mode and present as a maze of dead brown stems. Its presence may have something to do with the fact that between 1955 and 1982 the disused quarry served as the town dump, and doubtless garden rubbish and spoil from elsewhere were thrown in and may have included pieces of this invasive plant. It is extremely difficult to eradicate, requiring several seasons’ treatment of weed killer. It also needs to be burned on site as transporting it away is illegal - it only takes a small piece of stem for the plant to regenerate and begin its invasion over again.
From a wildlife perspective the reserve is quiet, although there are two surprises awaiting me. The first is a fulmar on the ground about two metres from the path. Fulmars are members of the petrol family, and differ from gulls in having short stout beaks and by flying with stiff outstretched wings. This unfortunate individual seems unable to fly at all - it appears to have a damaged wing. It shuffles along as I approach, although I do so with some trepidation: fulmars will literally vomit at you if you venture too close. Unfortunately there is little I can do to assist the bird, other than making sure it is well concealed among the vegetation and safe for the moment from any marauding foxes - but I doubt it will survive.
The second surprise is that despite my misgivings about the information panel I do see a peregrine. It glides down from the high quarry face and round the headland. But my enjoyment does not finish here. Having back-tracked down the quarry path I follow the path under the railway and along the coast just outside of the railway fence. I am able to make out a large stick nest in a crevice - almost certainly belonging to a raven. Then not far away and appearing light grey against the dark rock is my peregrine, perched high on the cliff face. Then I notice its mate a few metres further down the cliff. Through binoculars I can distinguish the beautiful barred markings on its breast and its yellow fierce-looking beak and claws - absolutely wonderful.
Whilst perfectly safe, the path is narrow and beside a sloped bank down to the sea. Therefore my advice when watching peregrines or admiring the colourful slopes of gorse in flower is that you stop walking while doing so - just in case you end up in the sea. Along the route is a collection of individual cottages and houses tucked in against the steep hillside. At the risk of sounding like an estate agent, these dwellings enjoy superb uninterrupted views over Belfast Lough. Of course I can also enjoy the views from the path. I say a mental farewell to the peregrines, which are scrutinising my every step, and head back.