Corcovado

 Everything But The Girl - Corcovado - YouTube

I'd planned a visit to Madeira, to fall before the tubenose altar, prior to the global pandemic but it's taken a few years to get back to doing something about it.  In the meantime the many hours of UK seawatches and pelagics have been exhilarating and delivered far beyond my hopes with Fea's and Wilson's Petrels in the South West and an Albatross and White-billed Diver in the North Sea amongst all the shearwaters, terns, incoming passerines and the odd Sabine's Gull.  

Our seabirding on Maderia fell into 3 types - Seawatches, pelagics and nocturnal breeding site visits.  We went out on 3 long pelagic trips with Windbirds which allowed for fantastic views of seabirds both in transit to our chumming points and when working the oily slicks.  Seawatching gave us fantastic and repeated experience with seeing petrels and shearwaters in a different context - we seawatched daily from just after dawn and we only encountered Barolo's Shearwater through this approach, trawling through large feeding flocks of shearwaters drawn to pods of Dolphin's.  A highlight, amongst many highlights, of the trip was being guided to the Zino's Petrel breeding cliffs high in the mountains.  The experience was magical but taking the plunge to buy a thermal imaging camera for this made for something exceptional.  Using the camera we could not only hear the haunting wails of the petrels, we could look down the sheer cliff face and see Zino's Petrels emerging from the cloud below us and hang and dance upon the ferocious updraft of the cliff.  We used our ears and the camera at Ponta do Garajau to enjoy Cory's Shearwaters flying around their small colony, the air filled with crazy loon calls.  Braving the rocky outcrop at the end of the path we were overjoyed to hear the finger rubbing on glass squeeks of Madieran Storm Petrel hopefully returning to breeding spots.  A video will follow in time but here are some pics to whet the appetite.

The Stage

Madeira is rugged and dramatic in it's scenery, we bumped into some great vista's and coastline and sunsets during our birding.

The Stars

Desertas Petrel

This chunky bird with a beast of a bill is very likely to be a Deserta's Petrel.  Every Pterodroma experience is an adrenaline laced tingle fest.  We had many visits from birds on the boat and seawatching produced many birds from land - reliving that UK find over and over again was delicious.

Fea's/Deserta's Petrel

Zino's Petrel

We saw 3 (possibly 4) birds at sea, and a bird from a seawatch that we were as sure as we could be was a Zino's and several birds at the breeding cliffs.  I hadn't even got my camera out of the bag for the exceptionally close views of our first which took off from a small flock of Bulwer's Petrel at the bough of the boat as we headed out on our first pelagic, the photographs of our next zipping around the boat, in evening light still show the lighter structure, bill size and white underwing markings of this enigma.  Word's can't convey the experience of watching this bird whip headlong towards us, banking feet from the boat and returning over our heads their mountainous breeding sites etching the horizon below.

Supporting Cast

White-faced Storm Petrel

We hadn't any realistic hope that we'd bump into one of these - hugely enjoyable bird to watch and it returned a couple of times as it bounced along the slick.  A cracker.

Maderian Storm-Petrel

I won't wade into the taxonomy of Band-rumped Storm Petrels.  We saw a couple of these at sea and enjoyed them immensely.

Bulwers Petrel

Abundant at sea but fantastic value throughout

Great Shearwater

Just the one, it got a bit sidelined as both a Zino's and Fea's type joined the slick almost as soon as it appeared.

Cory's Shearwater

Abundant and fantastic birds.  Close views and huge flocks were spectacular.

Land Birds

Madeira has a limited but interesting avifauna with island races verging on the edge of bona-fide endemics.  Trocaz Pigeon took a while to show itself really well and the Maderian Firecrest frequently heard but harder to see, although some birds performed including a bird feeding young.  Plain Swift, Berthelots Pipit and Canary were new to me as was the Maderian race of Chaffinch and the endemic island Lizard.

Snetti's warbler

warm.....

warmer....

blazing hot....

The Great Reed warbler. Big flopping hulk of a thing. My first attempt to see it had failed. It was my own fault. I wandered along the bank in the early afternoon with the breeze rising. A few grunts - from the bird that is - was all I heard, and that was it. So a couple of days later, I decided to get there at dawn, on a still morning. Passing a couple of Turtle Doves and a Grasshopper Warbler on the way, I arrived at the thick block of reeds where the G'Reed had been, and was greeted - or should I say 'greeded'...no - I shouldn't say 'greeded'..it's silly and not funny. Would that it were. But as I say, it's not. Do you get the impression I'm trying to pad this out? Because I have to tell you - you're right.

I arrived. It was there. And I saw it. I won. And the man who asked me 'has it been singing' just after it had literally just stopped singing after ten minutes of actual singing while we both stood waiting for it to appear on my last visit...lost. As I said. I won, and I had defeated him. And I'm not ashamed to admit that. Am I Alpha Papa?

you decide - but I think I can guess your answer...

Oh yeah. And there was some other stuff there as well, but I'm not complaining. Had quick look, got back to the car, driving gloves on, and rode home listening to some classic Brit-pop from T'pau.

 

Chippers

Ringing at Chippenham Fen is a different prospect. Stuff not found in the usual places is pretty common here. The Sedge Warblers have just fledged, and we caught a few - plus an adult, still in pretty good condition.

A Treecreeper was a bit of a surprise. it must have trailed a couple of Blue Tits to reach the net nearest the trees.

Along the rides, the orchids are blooming, gorgeous purple amongst the grasses.

Grasshopper Warblers are positively abundant on the fen. The route across to the ringing site crosses three territories of singing birds, and more birds find their way into the nets every visit.

But, much as the Gropper will excite the purist, the morning's haul of Kingfishers was the sparkling highlight.

Upon returning to Burwell, the local owl posed for pictures.

 

Everything Flows

I don't always use the fortnight of the school Easter holiday fully, in a birding sense, unless I've headed abroad.  In the UK late March/early April is a bit of a limbo period with a trickle of summer migrants making their way through and the tail end of wintering birds quietly departing overnight.  So we by-passed thoughts of spring and headed back into late winter with a trip up to the Highlands.  The girls are both now old enough to manage a longer road trip so we headed to the Cairngorms with 2 day stop overs in York and Edinburgh on the way up.  

I never need an excuse to spend time on the Great White Cape of Flamborough Head, in early spring the draw is the cliffs covered in seabirds.  The return of the Black-browed Albatross made a trip to Bempton irresistible.  I went with my Dad and although we were not fortunate enough to see this icon wheeling around the cliffs we did see it bobbing around offshore as it drifted out towards the headland. The guttural cacophony of Gannet business echoed up the sheer chalk face. Kittiwakes, with a vocal mantra akin to fingers rubbed on polished glass, threw themselves into the updraft joining the clouds of auks navigating their summer home.  A Short-eared Owl was a little bonus quartering the rough clifftop grassland where Corn Bunting, Tree Sparrows, Yellowhammers and Skylarks were all making up the arable soundscape.

An early start allowed for a few hours pottering along the Northumberland coast spending time at favourite spots including Beadnell, Seahouses and Bamburgh. I had a good look for the wintering Black Scoter off it's regular haunts but there were few Scoter visible on choppy seas and no big custard splashes on the bills I could see. The rain set in as we left my last spot at Cocklawburn and was heavy by the time we crossed the border.  

Next morning the Edinburgh pavements were glistening damply in the orange glow of street lamps as I made my way to Musselburgh.  I was hopeful of connecting with a trio of belting seaduck which had been frequenting the River Esk mouth off and on the previous week.  Surf Scoters are a steady fixture here during the winter, a young drake King Eider was a great bird to look for and the possibility of re-locating the super rare White-Winged Scoter was tantalising.

As the dawn broke the extent to which the mizzle was to restrict viewing became clear.  Over time spells of this did clear and the sea was very calm allowing for birds to be picked out readily.  There were 2 smart drake and a bulbous headed female Surf Scoter showing quite well alongside small flocks of Velvet and Common Scoter, Long-tailed Duck, Eider and lone Slavonian Grebe and Black-throated Diver.  Despite persistence I couldn't find the King Eider and, perhaps unsurprisingly, the White-winged Scoter.  Great spot though and as the mist cleared to give views across the Forth I had to drag myself away.  I woke early next day but a strengthened northerly wind put me off a return, there was no height to the viewing and with a choppy sea looking through seaduck is a very frustrating proposition.

Our base in the Cairngorms was just inside the National Park near Laggan. The bothy cottage had spectacular views down the upper Spey valley and at night Snipe were drumming and Curlew trembling their display over the moor.  Early morning saw Black Grouse arrive to feed on pine needles in the small copse nearby.  Pink-footed Geese were on the move with several hundred each day seen heading high and north across the mountains.  Taking early drives out up the Spey valley produced some great expriences with roadside Divers, Greenshank and White-tailed Eagle.  Mammals almost stole the show though with rutting Red Deer, boxing Hares and a Pine Marten that froze in the road watching us watching it, before hiding under a road bridge strut and then vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

The special places gave up their treasures readily with Ospreys, Crested Tit, Ring Ouzel, Snow Bunting and Ptarmigan all seen at traditional viewpoints and roadside stops.  A dawn walk around the forest looking for Capercaillie was fruitless but did produce Goshawk display over nearby plantation once the air warmed.  A visit to the RSPB hide at Loch Ruthven gave stunning viewing of Slavonian Grebes and it were only Golden Eagle and Black-throated Diver that eluded.

It was a magical family holiday, the day climbing Cairngorm in the snow being particularly memorable, and the week flew by.  We headed south via Glencoe and took a few more days rest with friends near Leeds.  They have a Red Kite nest visible from their garden which gave great viewing and also provided an opportunity to visit the wintering site of the long staying Belted Kingfisher near Preston, a fantastic bird.

wobbler

The chunterers and Jazz freakists usually hunker down in the reeds, never to be seen as they rattle off their noise. Sometimes you'll see a Sege Warbler bounce up and frittle back down during a particularly bold melodic motif, but usually they remain heard and not seen.

This bird decided otherwise, and perched up for a few minutes, sitting right in my eyeline as I was trying to watch the Godwits.

 

Northlands

The northlands beckoned and I have just returned from a much needed break in the Cairngorms.  More of that to follow but before I left I finished splicing the photo's and video from a different trip to the north a decade ago.  

Thanks to Ben, Mark and Simon for images and great companionship - with the exception of Hawk Owl, Finnature guided us to the Owls and managed our engagement with them.

keep on Rookerin the free world.

 For years, the copse next door has hosted a winter roost of Rooks and Jackdaws. The Jackdaws spend the summer on the rooftops. Two pairs regularly nest in the chimneys, but the Rooks nest communally out in the open, choosing tall trees with big open canopies.They are very faithful to traditional sites, so it's unusual to see new colonies begin, but this year, a lone Poplar tree across the road has given the chance to see one develop. Three nests quickly appeared, with a fourth soon following. There seem to be more than just four pairs of birds using the tree. It's possible that some members of the loose association are single young birds having around for the safety in numbers - but as with any community, closeness brings antagonism from time to time. Birds steal from each other's nests, and every now and then a real argument breaks out - black silk ragged wings tangling and flapping as sharp bills gape and caw. 

As the afternoon warms the air, the rookery quietens down, as all the birds are out in the fields or dozing on the nests. It's the cool mornings when most of the activity happens.

activity time.

The nestbox Stu helped me install is definitely being used this year. I set the camera up and left it recording for ten minutes, and captured the activity.

A few metres away, at the garden edge, a Song Thrush took a break from the morning chorus, and started wing flashing and tail flicking. I'm not sure if this is a display aimed at a rival or a potential mate, or even some sort of predator response to the neighbour's cat to be honest, but it's behaviour I've not seen before in Song Thrush.

 

what a coot.

There is no more evil force than the empty soul of the Coot. What a complete bastard.

 

return of the project.

Just before the winter returned with cold  iced mornings and grey winds, the first Project Godwit returned to the Washes. It was lounging on Lady Fen, preening and then wading out to feed on the main scrape. By coincidence, this bird is named 'Lady', and was released in 2017. She has been faithful to the floodplains of East Anglia ever since - stopping it at Welney before heading off to the pilot project to breed. 

This time of year sees large numbers of Godwits huddling together on the narrow spits of exposed land in front of the main hide, and most of these birds are Icelandic breeders of the smaller, brighter race. Most are already in their rufous finery, with heavily barred backs and bills beginning to flush orange. They seem excitable and just waiting for the moment when they'll leave for the far north. Other passing waders join the throng, small Dunlin, Ruff - all of which will move on during April for the shores and boggy uplands of Scandinavia.

The more muted Welney Godwits won't attain the brightness of their northern cousins, and arrive before their black and orange summer plumage has fully emerged. By May, their spangled colours will hide them in the mixed vegetation in the wash valley.