Sunday, 15 November 2020

Hot Legs



I bumped into Mark Peck in Tescos on Friday night, fortuitously, as during our birding banter in the dairy aisle he said there'd been a Lesser Yellowlegs at Welney during the day!!  We decided to do a family visit the following afternoon which went pretty well.  The American vagrant had not been seen which led to some pretty focused and intense searching.  I did find an unseasonal Greenshank amongst the Black'wits and I had quite a few interesting waders that all revealed themselves to be Ruff.  The girls all went back to the visitor centre for coffee and cake and I just kept looking.  Walking back from Lyle Hide I heard a Redwing like seep and looked up, I was surprised to see not a Redwing above me but a chunky and well marked Hawfinch flying over - a Fen mega.  I was a happy chappy but not perhaps as elated as I should have been as I was still to see a Lesser Yellowlegs in the Ely10, managing to enjoy an April bird on the Bluntisham side of the Washes at Berry Fen and miss it on it's short visits onto the Washes proper.  

I had just popped into the observatory on the way back to check the diving duck when all the waders took flight, a tremendous spectacle in itself, I heard the Greenshank calling and thought to myself "If I were a Yellowlegs I'd be drawn in by that call"  I looked around for the Greenshank which was over the main lagoon and it was joined by a smaller bird - check square white rump, check general Tringariness, check general well  protruding feet beyond the tail - Get In.  I was happy I'd found the Yellowlegs.  Back in the cafĂ© my good cheer must have been evident as Erin made me a congratulations card.

I returned on Monday to see if I could secure some better views, there were birds everywhere and it was good to catch up with Mark Groom and his son Jasper enjoying the spectacle.  A Spotted Redshank was doing what I'd hoped the Yellowlegs would have done and was showing off picking at the water through the wildfowl.


The next day what was surely "our" Yellowlegs turned up at Cley and turned out to be an exceptionally confiding bird. At the end of a very quiet October half term week we took a trip to the coast and I enjoyed some great views of the Yellowlegs.  Just a little further down the track an equally confiding male Stonechat was just lovely.



Do It All Over Again


Having been waylaid by the Bushchat I was lucky in having another chance to try Gypsy Lane, I met Mark H at the top of the lane and we picked up where I left off yesterday.  We weren't much further than I'd got yesterday and Mark's appointment with the Bushchat was called, he'd not been able to go yesterday.  I carried on and reaching some tasty looking sycamores promptly found a sprite.  It looked like a Pallas's but I didn't get a clear view of either the rump or central crown stripe.  I followed it for a minute or so before it melted away.  Mark returned within the hour having seen the chat very well indeed and we continued our methodical work.  After a couple of hours working around the corpse and willows we headed out towards the last cover beyond the seawall.  

On the bend by a reed fringed slack a muddy coloured warbler flicked through the nettles, it looked good straight away for a Dusky Warbler and we followed and lost it from nettles to bank and then a slightly longer flight view as it crossed a ditch and into the reeds.  This was going to be really hard - if only it had called......the phone came out and Mark got Xeno Canto to do the work.  A couple of Dusky "thcucks" and then a response - it was a Dusky and calling well whenever prompted with the playback.  We were patient but it seemed an impossible task to see the bird in the dense vegetation which we could only view from the bank.

We moved around to view the bushes within the reedbed hoping it'd move to these in time.  A few movements were the inevitable Robin and then a full on sparkling lemon and lime Pallas's Warbler hovering and zipping around took our complete attention - a fantastic bird and worthy distraction.  We didn't hear or see the Dusky Warbler again and returned to look around the mature wooded fen to the east of the path.  The habitat was amazing, we probably shouldn't have been there but at every turn it felt we could find something epic - we didn't, but it was electric birding.  When we did return to the path a birder had just seen "the" Pallas's we commented that it had travelled quite a way - he was unaware of the bird out on the marsh and we were only 25ft from where I'd seen my sprite in the morning, I've taken it as confirmation of the first bird.  We'd worked the area for almost 7 hrs with clear success, however I wasn't going to finish the day without a Bluetail and there had been 3 around Holme dunes just a few miles up the road.  

We were only there for an hour or so but what started with satisfactory views of 2 birds ended with fantastic views of one of them right by the path as we departed.  They're just the best - enigmatic, characterful and subtlety exotic.  Good enough for the 5yr, Eve, old to draw.

The last I saw in the UK was the stuff of dreams - Rich Baines and I left his house, one of the coastguard cottages on Flamborough Head on a bright, late October dawn, to start a days birding.  A Black Redstart flicked off the path outside the house - the radio crackled "you're going to want to see what's in this bag", the mist nets were up in a back garden across the road so we walked over to meet Ian Marshall on the drive, willing for whatever it was to be drawn from the bag to be mega....and it was -  a Bluetail in the flesh (and feather) just inches from our noses.

There was time for just another bird before heading home and a quick trip to the wayside at Thornham revealed the 3rd Pallas's Warbler of the day - a very showy bird right by the path in the sueda by the car park.  The day drew to a close and the winds were due to swing west for the rest of the month.



Bonkers



The wind had turned Easterly on Friday and bits and bobs had started turning up - the 8 striped sprite, gorgeous Pallas's Warblers had started a flurry and Red Flanked Bluetails having had a bonza breeding season in their westerly frontier, were also arriving.  I want to find one of those for myself so opted to start early on Saturday morning on the under watched but briliantly positioned Gypsy Lane between Titchwell and Brancaster.  I checked around Titchwell Church at dawn and then started down the lane.  I'd been in touch with Ben the day before, he and Rich were heading towards Warham and Stiffkey, I'd commented "enjoy the hoards" a phrase that would haunt me for the rest of the day.  I'd slowly walked 100 metres of the lane, I'd forgotten quite how good it looks for autumn migrants and moved very slowly.  Just before 8 I got a message from Birdo - was I on my way for the Bushchat??  What The Force!  

A quick check of the bird news revealed the startling news that a Rufous-tailed Bushchat had been found just after daybreak at Stiffkey.  I decided to stick to plan and keep looking for a Bluetail but with each step I found myself unable to focus and observe, my mind was wandering ceaselessly to whether I could afford to play this cool.  Another 10 minutes and I broke, trotted to the car and got myself down to Stiffkey.  

It was already bonkers when I arrived, I managed to squeeze myself a parking spot amidst the snaking lines of cars along both sides of the narrow road.  Joining the crowd there was an odd scene before us.  The tide was very, very high yet the bird had flown from the hedgerow where it had shown well out to a small island of sueda.  Opinion was split as to whether it had stayed there or flown further out to the far ridge.  Long and short there were plenty of twitchy twitchers assembled but on the edge.  Shouty arguments, accusations of stringing and general bad vibes were evident and then the patience broke.  10 then 20 then 30 folk started to edge out along the submerged path desperate to get looking for the chat.

The original patch of sueda looked the only reasonable proposition to me so I decided to grill this from the now emptying bank top.  As the tide dropped the birders spread widely across the saltmarsh and out to the furthest ridge, I kept focused on the good looking spot.  Something moved flicked up and down again and the birder who'd gone to that patch of sueda's bins went up, stayed up and then he waved his arms.  The ensuing scene was carnage - a sopping, sploshing, sliding, jogging beige army honed on the spot from all sides and all distances.  It seemed to have dissappeared again, but then a blur of movement, a big cocked tail a top the sueda and jerky movement here, there and gone again.  A bit later it sat out for longer, motionless.  The crowd had got ridiculous the distancing was non- existent and the sueda was virtually surrounded. 

 

Having seen the bird and with no desire to join the hoard, I decided this was not for me and went for a look at the Pallas's Warblers in the wood.  I saw one of these well and drunk it in beneath the oaky canopy.  As I left birders were arriving from Yorkshire and the crowd had got even bigger - it made the national news for the wrong reasons with the police threatening social distancing fines.  I was due in Cambridge by 1 so slunk off having done little birding, seen a mythical blocker and feeling like I'd let myself down not sticking to the plan.  In fact the best bit of the experience was relaying the ridiculous scenes, the wading out, slips and mud baths to Rich, Ben and Jono as I drove home.

Here's Mark Hawkes video of the Bushchat from the next day.

At One With The Birds (again)


Our Birdo weekender, once again based at Flamborough, started prodigiously.  After 12 hrs of following the Lammergier between fields and copses along the Lincolnshire/Cambridgeshire border Mark H finally saw the bird in Cambridgeshire. Ben and I pootled along in the late afternoon on our way North and saw the beast roosting in a roadside tree.  It was an awesome sight.  A great weekend was immortalised in a little video I put together and on Jono Leadleys @BirdingDad blog







Spryte Flight


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QqtnLFMDRdg

Part of the daily routine now at work is an hour most mornings managing the staggered and distanced arrival and departure of 700 or so kids and adults through the school gates.

As I walked across the playground to open up the gates a Chiffchaff hueeted from the sunsoaked ivy clad ashes that border that side of the school.  "Shame it's not a Yellow-brow" I thought.  Almost in synchronisitous response the feisty "tzuuuet" call of a Spryte pierced the air, calling a couple of times.  I had to get on with the job in hand and unlocked the gates for the afternoon pick up, perhaps the steady flow of folk through the playground encouraged it and the Chiff to move on as I heard nothing from either of them again.

 

 

Saturday, 24 October 2020

Chrome Waves



Expectation grew through to the end of the week, the winds were easterly in origin, swirling off from northern Scandanavia and onto Shetland, the Northern Isles were coming alive with Sibes - passerines from Siberia. Thursday evening pub talk focused on what might be, Mark Peck was planning to pull a Bluetail out of the nets at Wicken, I hoped I could wangle a few hours at the coast.  In the end I had a full day pass - I was eager to see waves of migrants arriving.

There was a bit of debate about whether Norfolk would be the best place for an intensive days search for migrant birds on the move.  Lincolnshire and Suffolk were mooted but our lack of detailed knowledge of the potential sites led us to familiar turf.  Mark Hawkes and I arrived dawnish at Wells in a moderate South-Easterly breeze with low cloud and drizzle.  It was evident birds were arriving, Song Thrushes ticking almost everywhere, Brambling wheezed and passed over low.  We set out slow, seeing birds in most areas we looked.  A tit flock in the Dell proved hard to grill- birds appearing a dissappearing quickly.  Thrushes rolled over the leaf litter and a Redstart and Lesser Whitethroat occupied the corner birches.

The seemingly resident Red-backed Shrike sat out along the fenceline bushes for a while, but it didn't show again.  We continued to check each area thoroughly, a Pied Flycatcher zipped about and a Hawfinch flew over.  It was mid morning by the time we reached Lady Anne's Drive and we'd barely seen another birder.  I grabbed a coffee and Ben and Rich turned the corner, we compared notes - we were missing sprytes, they'd found 3.  It didn't take long to catch up with one though and the next tit flock held one, they tumbled into our laps after that with at least 6 birds west of the drive.  We separated out and while enjoying the Cattle Egret flock feeding between the handsome Belted Angus we got a phone call telling us of an Olive-backed Pipit heading our way.  We had a good look around where it had dropped in, finding a Spotted Flycatcher for our troubles.  A bit later a yell went up telling us of the OBP again, this time overhead, with 2 Meadow Pipits, I saw these but could do nothing with them.  This was not to be the last of frustrating pipitry.

We reconvened with Green & Dale on the edge of the bomb crater and headed out onto the dunes.  The predicted afternoon wave of arrivals started overhead with Redwings, Larks and Finches pulsing from the sky.  A couple of fenceline Whinchat, bushtop Redstarts, flyover Lapland Buntings and an uncooperative Ring Ouzel gave flavour - I was looking for this when I got a shout from the others.  I got onto a pipit flying towards me which gave several arresting "tzeeep" calls.  We followed it down and moved, with a plan, towards the trees it had landed near, up again and over the dune.  Two birders had joined us and were checking "sounds like OBP right" there was some consensus forming.  With some height we watched as it flew and landed on a bush.  All scopes swung on to it and it looked good, from the front, for an Olive-backed Pipit - orange wash to the chest, strong marks across the breast and a clear white spot and dark spot in the ear coverts.  It dropped to the ground and weaved between short tussocks, in this view it all fell apart - the bird had a streaky brown mantle.  A Tree Pipit.  We were really dissappointed, felt a bit robbed and perhaps a little silly for getting carried away.  It wasn't just us though as an OBP was reported in the same area later in the day and there were several reports from the woods during the day.

As we meandered, around a tad forlorn, a Barred Warbler popped up in front of a departing birder.  We got some brief but good views as it bombed between bushes, a bit if a beast, all told.  We carried on to Gun Hill admiring washed out Chiffs and a luminous young Willow Warbler, a Short-eared Owl rose from a dune hollow and away.  In the creek between us and Scolt Head Island a couple of female type Goosander loafed.  


Our walk back was speedier than our laboured searching on the way out, it was late and there was not a lot of daylight left.  We heard a couple more sprytes in the trees and enjoyed a peachy, newly arrived Brambling.

   

Nearing the Dell we stopped to investigate a reasonable roost of Song Thrushes in a single tangle over hung by a mid size sycamore, a whirr of movement zipped up into a branch and I whipped my bins on to it to see the lovely eye rings and cutesy open face of Red-breasted Flycatcher.  Mark had seen it fly up but not got a view, I called it and it melted away, surely to roost.  Aching legs were soothed some by quayside Fish and Chips, Lilt and Vimto.  It was a belter of a day all told but no biggie, although we missed Arctic Warbler and a Raddes Warbler seen during the day.  The greatest surprise where how few other birders we saw given the weather - 6 aside ourselves.   I now run my birding days past my fifteen year old self as a reality check - Red-backed Shrike, Barred Warbler, Red-breasted Flycatcher, 6 Yellow-brows, Lap Bunts, Pied Fly, 6 Redstarts, Hawfinch, Cattle Egret, Great White Egret, Short-eared Owl and lots of birds on the move - I could barely dream of days like that back in 1990.

Friday, 16 October 2020

Friday I'm In Love

 

                                         https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mGgMZpGYiy8

When I first saw this illustration, many years ago, I fell in love with the idea of Skuas flying over Ely.  Graham Easy's pen work belies a passion for unlocking the secrets of overland Skua passage over Cambridgeshire.  His observations  have led to the understanding that strong autumnal North Westerly winds, coupled with squally showers and rain can encourage Skuas to build in numbers in the Wash and continue their passage, not along the coast as is the norm but within eyesight, inland along the courses of the Rivers Ouse and Nene before heading onwards towards the River Severn and out into the Atlantic via the Bristol Channel.  This passage is likely to occur in fine weather too but the Skuas can fly high, beyond ready detection.


A leviathon of storming norwesters crashed across East Anglia on Friday.  While I was sat at work Mark Hawkes was reporting Petrels and Skuas in horizontal rain and a gargantuan swell on 70mph winds at Sheringham.  News was building of hundreds of Skuas heading inland at Lynn Point at the mouth of the Ouse where it flows into The Wash.

It is rare for the best conditions to look for skuas to occur, even rarer to occur on a weekend and over the years I have spent too many days frustrated and envious at work as others have enjoyed inland skua passage, mostly in the far north of Cambridgeshire, on the county border at Foul Anchor on the tidal Nene.  I have also spent many hours watching the skies for skuas in Nor Westers in sub-optimal conditions, spurred on by hope.  This has not been without reward and a lone Bonxie on flood water at Fidwell Fen in just the right conditions many years ago fanned the flames, a couple more Bonxies heading inland at Foul Anchor the day after a large movement suggested you might just see something move against blue skies.  Another blustery but skualess day saw a fantastically scallop backed young Roseate Tern traverse the Norfolk and Lincolnshire vista in front of me and Ben.

I sent a miserly whatsapp to the Birdo group from the confines of my desk - "There will have been Skuas over Ely this morning #:0( "  and I'm sure there was.  By 4 o'clock I was free and gazing skyward from my favourite vantage point, a couple of minutes from home, at Quanea Drove.  This is a huge west facing vista tracking upstream (the flightpath of a skua) the silvery thread of the River Great Ouse from Queen Adelaide through to Stretham with the monolithic cathedral perched atop the shallow whaleback of the Isle of Ely.

It was blowing an absute hooley and I decided not to set up my scope afeared that it should blow over in a gust, 70mph had been recorded on the coast.  Bouyed by the news of Skuas over Thetford during the afternoon and continuing inland movement at Lynn Point, I began my watch from the shelter and comfort of the car.  It takes a while to get your eye in to a skywatch, getting a sense of the light and distances is all part of the fun.  There were some large gulls moving upriver and lots of Rooks, Jackdaws and Pigeons to get used to, Cormorants and Herons spiced things up a little but it was an hour or so in that saw a small group of circling Black-headed Gulls joined by the torpedo bodied, silver winged shapes of terns.  5 Sandwich Terns - only my second sighting in the Ely10 and certainly a success in my searches as they spiralled higher pushed away from the river and off, with the wind, towards Soham and Newmarket beyond.  With a crick in the neck and a sore back from twisting my frame I took a short break to get a few bits (ok, beer) from Tescos.  Having stretched out the cramp I was ready to do the hour or so till dusk.  The sky had cleared, I was tempted to call it a day.  To keep me going I kept recalling hundreds of spoon tailed Pomarine Skuas flying in groups of tens, westwards, over Varanger in Norway in clear skies and little wind one spring and the 2 pale phase Arctic Skuas winging their way low over the Biebrza Marshes, travelling to and from who knows where, in Poland on a beautiful still May evening, while I waited for the jack in a box lek of Great Snipe to begin.  Don't give up, Skuas don't always need rain to pass overland within sight.

I didn't give up and with the sun lowering a svelte dark bird appeared to the south of the cathedral, it banked to circle and it's form became clear, an Arctic Skua - little plumage but all jizz, as I watched another appeared beneath it, towering upward like dark lights being switched on another appeared and another.  In total 12 skuas kettled and span around each other, not unlike the Sandwich Terns had done earlier.  I'd seen flocks of resting skuas take to the wing and do this offshore before, heading up high and ready to move.  As the wind took them into the glare of golden clouds reflecting the dropping sun each blinked away out of sight - dissappearing as suddenly as they had appeared, magical.

Next day the winds continued, it was overcast and drizzly - it was back to form, 4 hours at Foul Anchor yielding nothing for Ben and I.  Indeed there was little skua movement anywhere adding another myth to the pile - skuas usually move on the first day of the right conditions.
 
 
We popped into Welney on the way back - 47 of the 60+ Cranes were on Lady Fen and on the observatory pool 7 Cattle Egrets roosted with a lone Great White beyond - even 10 years ago it would be hard to consider this scene likely.  


Thursday, 15 October 2020

Bone Crusher

 A dark shadow fell across Cambridgeshire, but now it's passed.



Friday, 25 September 2020

Make It Easy On Yourself



A few days of easterly airflow preceeded a trip to the coast where we met up with Rich Baines and Jo Ruth for a family catch up.  Wells was a good choice with a bracing walk, beach for the kids, a cafe and a bit of passive birding to enjoy.  Just around The Dell a young Red-backed Shrike, all rich browns and gingers was hawking beetles from the field edge and fence line.  Although close, everytime I tried to film it the reeds just got in the way - I gave it up as a bad job.  

There was general excitement as we got regular updates from Jono about the Humpback Whales he was watching off the Great Cape, Flamborough Head - Rich's company Yorkshire Coast Nature pioneering the increasingly popular Whale watching trips off the Yorkshire coast.

On the beach we had a ludicrously speculative gaze at the sea and pottered.  Me and Rich gave ourselves quarter of an hour to find the Red-breasted Flycatcher which we did, pretty pronto, and enjoyed some good views.



Ice Creams and play parks beckoned, I picked up the original "Firsts for Britain" Poyser - for a price and checked the Starlings optomistically.  We ambled back down the seawall having had a very relaxed non-birding, birdy day.  We'd made it easy on ourselves.

So I went and spoilt it a bit.  After we'd said bye to Rich and Jo I left the family to get fish and chips and twitched down to Warham Greens where I just about saw the Brown Shrike, from below, in silhoutte roosting up in the centre of a hawthorn and a much better Pied Flycatcher flicking down the lane in the gathering gloom.  

Friday, 18 September 2020

MothErf


 With the Summer nearing an end, there is time to set up the moth trap to see what's still flying in the lengthening night. My previous forays into this moreish pastime yielded nothing much of interest - but at last I managed a catch of epic proportions. Here's a list of what I found lurking under the egg-boxes in the dewy morning........

Pungent Right Angle
Deflater
Migrant Savage
Crimson Tide
June Emanation
Blatant Dangler
Extremist
Ruddy Hole
Mrs Artichoke's Bosum
The Strangler
Early Doors
Ingrown
Doosra
Scarce Doosra
Pale Shitstorm
Shiny Melons
Coin Purse
Blunt Finger
Marxist Dialectic
Shady Merchant
Autumn Racist

not to mention a Greater Hedge Sedge, a Lesser Sedge Midge and three French Crickets.

What an unbelievable haul.

Sunday, 13 September 2020

Long Lunch


A freshly moulted Chiffchaff sparkled in the tangle of bare twigs, calling and twitching in the sunlight. Great tit's chatter, unseen somewhere in the hedge. Looking through the bramble fountain that has been slowly drowning the Elder bush for the last few years, I noticed the movement of a larger bird. Moving to a different window, where the angle afforded a clearer view, the young Sparrowhawk apprehensively stripped a Goldfinch until the unfortunate gilt edged soul was bereft of its essence. Sans wings, sans head, sans tail, sans feathers, sans life.




 

Thursday, 27 August 2020

Spiderman



Definitely back in the Ely10 now - a male Marsh Harrier drifted over the garden this morning and a Tree Pipit called as I went through the moth trap.  Nice return.

My family came down from York for a couple of days and while walking the back field my sister called us over to see a spider - I was hoping it'd be a Wasp Spider and it was, a cracking one too.  Will B had found a couple earlier in the summer but we have been looking for them locally for some years now.  Hopefully we'll see them with some frequency now.




This one caught a fly and in a matter of 30 frenetic seconds wrapped it in silk.  What a brilliant beast.

My Dad sent some of his pics too.


While I was away Simon sent some great photos of Grass Snake and Emperor Dragonfly from Wicken.  


Stormy Clouds



Anticipation was unreasonably high for Thursday mornings seawatch - the wind had turned due south and was moderate 20 mph.  A few Cory's and a smatter of other interesting seabirds should have been a reasonable haul given the conditions however the previous days 120 Great Shearwaters, my Fea's type, the number of large shesrwaters off Scilly and the  large number of birders who'd travelled overnight awaiting the 50mph winds forecast in the next 24hrs led to a feeling of anti-climax.  The winds ramped up during the night to a full on gale and Friday morning saw 70 or so birders hunkered down at Porthgwarra with the storm raging in from the south west but unusually clear skies making for harsh and difficult light much of the time.  In theory it should have been chocca with large shearwaters but all we could muster during the day were 3 Cory's, a few Sooty and Balearic Shearwaters, some Storm Petrels and an increasing feeling of dissappointment.  After 9 hours I retired to my bed with a cracking headache.  This passed after a couple of hours sleep and Mark joined us for a last night of the holiday meal in Penzance.  I only had a few hours on Saturday morning as we had to leave our cottage by 10 - I asked Mark to choose where we watched from as the wind moved to due west - he opted for Pendeen and my alarm was set for the last watch of the holiday.

I met Mark at 6.15 and within 10 minutes we joined a huddle of birders below Pendeen light.


We had a quick chat with great bird artist and Cambridgeshire birder Richard Johnson on our way down and found ourselves a spot to set up.  Manxie passage was considerable and, as is often the case at Pendeen, just behind the rocks offshore.   I had been struggling to pick up Storm Petrels the previous couple of days but they were easier here, birds moving pretty continuously.  A call went up and a Great Shearwater passed close in, fantastic and prolonged views in brilliant light.  A few Balearic and Sooties did the same.  It was busy,

Mark picked up a couple of Stormies to the right, I got on them and one stalled and started dancing on the water.  Wings aloft I couldn't make out any white on the underwing.  I made sure we were staying in this bird and started talking it all out loud - I checked the rump - wrap around white, the underwing again, the wing shape.  This was looking very, very good -  I ran through the features quite loudly for anyone listening for over a minute, sure of the id but unbelieving, the call of "Wilson's" went up - no panic for us we'd been on it  for a while already.  However the heart thumping, finger tingling adrenalin kick was there alright.  This bird performed, steady flight, glides and regular feet pattering stops let us take it all in, including direct comparison with a European Storm Petrel - which flicked along the water while the Wilsons cruised. As it moved west the grey carpal bar became more evident on the upperwing and I even glimpsed the feet projection beyond the tail at one point.  In total it was on show for over 6 minutes, fantastic views of a brilliant bird.  I couldn't believe I'd found land based Fea's and Wilsons Petrel within a week. As a very good birding buddy would put it - scenes.

photo - Dan Pointon

The buzz of chat and jubilation went around the crowd - what a way to start the day/finish the holiday.  It wasn't over, although my time was limited, Manxies were counted at 160 per minute, Stormies continued to move through - each one checked and double checked easily with great light and close views.  Further out Sabines Gulls, the most beautiful of gulls with their tern like flight and bold wing patterns, had begun to appear, 8 in total by 8.45 when I had to go.  And then it was over - utterly dumbfounded that in the course of 4 days both holy grails of seawatching had passed through the sacred circle, the scope view, and burnt their image upon my retina like some shamanic scar tattoo.

It didn't quite end there either,  as on the back of another forecast blow on Tuesday, Mark drove back to Cornwall and dug into those headlands again - and he only bloody went and did it.  He picked up a Fea's, late in the day at Porzhgwarra and amongst a huge movement of seabirds off Pendeen the next day, found one of the 4 Wilsons Petrels seen during tbe day.

SCENES


Wednesday, 19 August 2020

Higher Than The Sun


Fea's Petrel arcing flight - Killian Mullarney
Almost exactly my view and light


It's just under 2 hrs since it happened, really happened - I'm still shaky, high as the proverbial kite, unsure what to do with all the nervous energy and struggling to tackle the simple task of putting a pizza in the oven or holding a normal conversation.  How does seeing a bird, a relative mosquito speck, cruising it's way over a thunderously churning ocean, illicit the response I'm still experiencing right now.  Well, that is now a chapter waiting to be written in On Birding.

This morning I was down at Porthgwarra early, 6.30 early, the wind was belting in from the SE and everything was shrouded in thick mizzle.  I hunkered down in the cove to see if visibility would improve.  It didn't, and after almost 2hrs of watching the odd very close Manxie appear, I called it a morning.  The rain was steady and you really couldn't see a thing.  I figured an early return could pave the way for a return visit later in the day.  Back in Sancreed the rain and wind set in and it looked like a lost day.  I was surprised and felt vaguely silly when the morning totals from PG included 56 Great Shearwaters, it meant one thing, it had cleared on the coast earlier and we'd been left in the cloying murk of low cloud.

The family were open to a switch from a visit to Penzance to taking in the cafe and caves of Porthgwarra for the afternoon.  It was going to be a balancing act between grabbing time to seawatch from the compromise of the cove and spending some time with the family.  I had an hour from 3.30 and within five minutes I had my eyes on the bowed wings of a Cory's cruising west.  I was a bit surprised that this was my first large shearwater of the watch given the greater number of Greats out there.  It took another fifty minutes to find a Great Shearwater, quite a nice view, but dissappearing constantly between the waves.

Re-joining the family I had a lucky break.  They wanted to stay and play around the caves more.  All I had to do was move between the benches and stay close to where they were playing.  This extra time started to reveal a distant movement line of Great Shearwaters, Mark Hawkes was on his way from Cambs for the big winds over the next couple of days and I was keen to have a sense of the different zones and lines of movement as a starting point for our watch tomorrow.  I'd eeeked out as much time as I was going to get by 5 and Ange called time, I played happy dumb as each of the kids eeked out their time too with multiple loo requests and sand in shoe shenanagins.  God bless them because what happened next wouldn't have done had they not been so wiley.  

At 5.17 to the east of my view, a bird arced high - so very high, over the churning horizon.  Routinely I stayed on it, unthinking at this point.  It arced up so high again, navigating a very loud, and deep bass, sound wave.  Synapses fired, look at this bird properly now.  I looked and everything clicked in peaceful, zen like, slow motion.  Against the sea it's pale body winked, underside of the wings pattern indistingushable but dark. Up it arced again, upperside of the body against the sky - definitely grey body, I looked harder and the  two tone of the grey body and dark remiges was evident.  It dropped down to the sea again, alongside smaller, black backed and whizzing winged Manxie.  I thought the adrenaline would hit then, I knew what it was, I'd known almost from tbe first huge arc, FEA's.

I was amazed that I stayed so calm and absolutely present with the bird, enjoying every second of it's flight double checking each of the visible features including long wings and pale tail, - but it was the repeated arcing soars, launching up from the sea and  high over the horizon, that was  the most arresting and exhilarating part of the encounter.  I watched it for over a minute (even managing to get Ange to call over a nearby birder returning from the head - unfortunately he was 15 seconds too late)  before it dissappeared behind the cliff of the sheltered cove and out past and beyond the runnelstone and I hoped past any birders sat on the headland pushing on to the end of the day.

The adrenaline caught up, the personal enormity of the event starting to resonate.  Euphoria, completely out of kilter with talking to the kids, explaining what had happened, why I was now really weird, not able to listen to them or concentrate on whatever it was that had to happen next.  I got to the car and wrote a text to Rare Bird Alert and a Whatsapp to my Birdo brethren so the news would be out as soon as we headed out of the valley.  Driving was a bit of a struggle, everything super charged, hyper alert and then the euphoria again as I ran through it all, putting the totality of views together.

Pre-covid I had planned to travel to Madeira this summer solely to seek out the 3 pterodroma - Fea's, Desertas and Zino's Petrels.  Given the very land locked Ely10 - regular seawatching is one indulgence I forsake.  The thought of a UK Fea's has felt like a dream I'd just never fulfill, having spent the last 6 months watching videos over and over of these mythical seabirds I had worked so hard on not hoping, enjoying every seabird on it's own merits, keeping the expectations reasonable - and then this.  Transcendent birding, experienced, held in memory, moments to be remembered with the greatest fondness and exhilaration.

Jono rang, buzzing vicariuosly and Mark speeded up considerably on the M5 on his way down to join the party.  There are two hugely blowey days ahead, it feels strange not to be experiencing the expectation and be celebrating the big day before the big blow has happened.  

Time now for some celebtatory fizz and try for an early night ready for an pre-dawn start and hopefully another memorable seawatch in some heroically fierce winds.  Lets see what the south wind brings.