If you’ve ever driven the winding coastal road from Seahouses to Bamburgh, you might’ve noticed a pond shimmering on your left-hand side. That’s Monkshouse Pond, named after Monkshouse—a small scattering of homes nestled in the dunes on the right. This unassuming stretch of water is teeming with wildlife year-round: from gulls and ducks to waders and wildfowl, it’s a hidden gem for birdwatchers and nature lovers alike.

In the 1950s, Monkshouse was home to a remarkable pair, Eric and Dorothy Ennion, who ran their own private bird observatory and field centre. Their love for nature echoed through the dunes, and their legacy still lingers in the rustle of reeds and birdsong that fills the air today.

Fast forward to now, and the pond still draws plenty of admirers—but there’s a new species catching our attention: the humble toad. Every spring, toads make their annual pilgrimage from the safety of the dunes to the pond, ready to spawn. Unfortunately, their path crosses a busy road that’s seen a dramatic increase in traffic over recent years. And let’s face it—your average toad isn’t exactly built for speed.

Enter local hero Claire Thorburn, who two years ago decided enough was enough. Determined to give the toads a fighting chance, she rallied volunteers to help them across safely. Rain, wind, sleet, or snow—the Toad Patrol was born.

The first year was a learning curve. I, for one, made the rookie mistake of turning up without a bucket. Another time I forgot gloves—and, trust me, toads are surprisingly cold! But we soon found our rhythm, and what began as a ragtag group turned into a well-oiled rescue team.

Claire didn’t just start a patrol; she built a movement. She got signs made to warn drivers. She ensured all volunteers had hi-vis jackets, lights, and even insurance. She followed Froglife’s guidelines to a T, and most importantly, she raised awareness about why this matters. And if that wasn’t enough, she managed it all with a massive heart and a cracking sense of humour.

Now, we have a WhatsApp group where we share updates: who’s out patrolling, how many toads have been spotted, what the weather’s like, and whether we’ve seen any newts (yes, we count them too!). It’s a science-meets-friendship mash-up, and we love it.

To keep things accurate, we only count toads crossing from the dunes to the pond—those are the ones heading off on their big spawning mission. On the way back, we assume they’ve already had their moment and don’t double-count. Sure, the odd toad might sneak into the stats twice, but all things considered, our tally’s pretty sound.

This year, the team absolutely smashed last year’s numbers. Though I wasn’t out as much myself due to other commitments, the volunteers carried on like champions—braving freezing nights, hailstorms, and gale-force winds just to help our slippery little friends get to their destination.

A huge shoutout to Jacquie Jones, who’s taken over the admin reins from Claire and done a fantastic job keeping all the data straight—while still patrolling the roads in all weathers.

Here is the data collected………..

2024

The first evening of our patrol was 28/02/2024, until the last patrol on 04/04/2024

Toads saved 738

Toads lost 118

2025

The first evening of our patrol was 23/02/2025, until the last patrol on 29/03/2025

Toads saved 1497

Toads lost 258

The best night was the 7th March 2025 with a total of 377 toads saved, followed by 329 on the 22/03/2025, which is amazing.

The most significant loss of toads was on the 22/03/2025. A total of 76

We also logged small newts saved, but this is not accurate as not everyone records them. A total of 83

The data collected over the 2025 patrol season shows not only a huge increase in the number of toads saved—doubling last year’s total—but also reflects the dedication and coordination of our volunteers, capturing detailed nightly counts and highlighting key trends that will help us protect even more wildlife in the future.

So, if you’re passing Monkshouse Pond on a chilly spring evening and spot a bunch of glowing jackets and bobbing torches—give us a wave and slow down. We’re not just standing around for fun—we’re on a mission. And every toad we help across the road is a small act of kindness that echoes through nature.

From all of us to all of you: thank you, Claire. Thank you, Jacquie. And thank you to every volunteer who’s ever picked up a toad in the dark.

Want to join the patrol next year? We’d love to have you. The more the merrier—and the toads will certainly thank you.