Go West!

Back in the day I would occasionally have a day out on the bike to keep myself out of the car, whereas these days it's very much the other way around. So after an 84-mile marathon bike ride to the New Forest on 30th May, which was interrupted by breaking news of a Night Heron back home in Dorset (a less than convenient 22 mile detour), I was in no rush to head out the following weekend. The forecast looked good for a seawatch but I resisted the temptation of heading out into strong winds and rain to join Phil Saunders, Steve Smith and others in the hide at Durlston.

Western Reef Heron - first record for Britain

Western Reef Heron - Y Foryd

It was a good job I did in the end as, shortly before noon, reports filtered through of a Western Reef Heron near Caernarfon in North Wales. Having checked precisely where, and the travel time, I dismissed the possibility of going for it as a bit extreme, but this being the first record for Britain, I figured that Steve and Phil would probably be interested. On putting out feelers, both indeed were, but Phil was unable to go that day. This left it down to Steve who after not much deliberation announced that he would pick me up within the hour. 

The Reef Heron was feeding almost constantly when in the near channel

Reef Heron catching some small fry

My wife's birthday fell on the following Saturday, a date which usually heralds the appearance of a rare bird for which I am unable to travel on account of making her breakfast in bed, organising parties and generally being the perfect husband. So having suggested to her this was fate for a very rare bird to arrive the weekend before, and establishing that she couldn't give less of a shit what I got up to as long as I was around for the birthday, I took that as being as good as permission.

The bright yellow feet stood out even in low light

The neat white chin patch was also a nice feature, though the right side showed a small amount of mottling

With optics, cameras, emergency overnight kit bag and the all important snacks packed, Steve picked me up as promised and we were on the road shortly before 1300. Getting out of Dorset proved the usual challenge, with long queues for no apparent reason as we approached Canford Heath - but it turned out to be the worst bit of only two bits of bad traffic on the whole journey. Winchester, Oxford and Birmingham came and went, although pawning our Swarovskis to pay for the M6 Toll left a somewhat bitter aftertaste. Rumours that the bird might be a dark morph Little Egret threatened to rub salt in but photos started to appear online which suggested it was the real deal.

Western Reef Heron striding across the estuary at low tide

Pulling at a food item but getting only seaweed here

Before we knew it we were turning west off the M6 and onto the North Wales Expressway. This spirited us in no time to Caernarfon and then onto minor roads which led to the margins of Y Foryd (Foryd Bay to the English visitors). This is where we hit the second worst bit of traffic of the journey as the heady mix of edgy twitchers, bad drivers and the twin curses of the modern country lane - fat-arsed SUVs and chunky camper vans - combined to cause gridlock when we were just a few hundred yards short of the estuary. 

They don't mention in the field guides that Western Reef Heron is an explosive excretor!

It was a bit windy on the estuary as the ruffled feathers indicate

With this late hurdle eventually cleared, we were finally able to join a happy looking band of birders watching the heron. Or so we thought: on piling out of the car it turned out the heron had just flow north out of view, and the traffic we had come up against was at least partly birders heading in that direction in hot pursuit. Our good friend David 'Bradders' Bradnum was on hand to point out roughly how far it had gone, so we got back in the car and headed north, which required a lengthy detour east inland to skirt an inlet of the main estuary before heading back west to rejoin it's eastern shore. 

I couldn't get any close comparison shots with Little Egret but this appears to show the slightly longer bill - by various accounts the bird was both bigger and smaller than the local Little Egrets, leading me to conclude it depends on the size of the Egret!

A bit of aggro between the two species

Not wishing to get stuck in traffic again, Steve did a between 3 and 6 point turn on the narrow road to park facing back the way we came and we joined two others who beat us to the spot in scanning the estuary. Of the Western Reef Heron there was, however, no sign and although there were in theory a couple of hours of daylight left, it was dark and overcast, and we started to wonder whether an overnight stay might be necessary. Just as hope was fading a little, Bradders rejoined us and said he would check the estuary even further north of our position. Within a minute he rang to say he had relocated the Heron and it was close in - we piled back in to the car, but as it was facing the wrong way Steve had to do a between 6 and 9 point turn before we could scoot in the general direction of Bradders. 

Another comparison shot

A bit of colour in this wider angle view

We needn't have panicked: we arrived minutes later to find the Heron fishing avidly in the closest channel of the estuary, and enjoyed extended views and a few photos in the fading light before it flew out to the middle of the estuary where it was more distant. It came back and forth a few times giving more good views and, not wishing to stay the night, we decided it was time to head home. 

Didn't quite have the right settings for this fairly close flypast

Another flight shot

The journey back was probably more arduous, if less stressful, than the journey there as road closures, tiredness and a wrong turn which took us perilously close to the Mersey Tunnel conspired to remind us that we were over 300 miles from home when we left the heron. I blamed myself for the wrong turn being too busy chimping through Western Reef Heron photos rather than helping Steve stay on the correct route. With lesson learnt, I tried to be more attentive for the rest of the journey and observe the twitcher's co-pilot's solemn duty to keep the driver awake and entertained.

Western Reef Heron breeds in the Middle East and Africa - so this bird was a long way from home

A summer plumage dark morph adult was a great way for the species to announce its arrival in Britain 

By the time Steve dropped me off it was past 0330 and I could see the sky lightening to the east before the dawn. There's not much that keeps me up that late these days, and I haven't done an extreme twitch like that in a long time, but it was great fun to do - Steve is good company, an excellent driver and a calming influence when a twitch is in danger of getting a bit tense! It was also a change from my usual weekend routine of pedalling myself to exhaustion. That said, I think my hips and back were aching more after spending most of the day in the car compared to spending most of a day on the bike!

Pleased to meet you

I've been taking it a bit easier with the long bike rides since suffering some knee pain after a 50 mile trip back in March but a positive session with the physio recently made me a bit more confident that the problem was a temporary one - it turned out that the knee braces I had been wearing for support had probably been doing more harm than good, causing abrasion of the kneecap by restricting its natural movement and preventing the development of the surrounding muscles. So when I was kicking around home around noon on Saturday 23rd May with not much to do, and news broke of a singing Common Rosefinch at Martin Down, 28 miles to the north over the Hampshire border, I thought I would be a good opportunity to give the knees a run out.

Common Rosefinch, Martin Down, 23rd March

I was on the road by 1300 and although I knew it would be hot as it was in the middle of the recent heatwave, I calculated that at least I would be travelling back in the cool of the day. Because of the heat and the knees I didn't push myself too hard, assuming that a singing bird would probably stay put for the rest of the day at least. I had chosen the mountain bike for the journey rather than the hybrid and although it glided along the Castleman Trailway as far as Wimborne, it was a bit sluggish on the long road north to Cranborne. It came into its own again on the lanes and tracks to Martin Down though, and I arrived shortly before 1600.

Common Rosefinch delivering the 'Pleased to meet you' song with gusto

My friend Andy Mears, who had been in the area looking for the Red-footed Falcon at Holt Heath, but detoured to Martin Down after it observed its habit of vanishing in the middle of the day, arrived just before me and, as I reached the breach in the Bokerley Dyke which marks the border between Dorset and Hampshire, he broke the unhappy news that the Rosefinch had not been seen for over half an hour. This was most unwelcome, but having come so far, I was not going to give up yet and besides, there were other good birds to try to add to the non-motorised year list.

The Rosefinch in the shade of a tree

Chief among these was Turtle Dove, which I have seen at Martin Down in 2 of the last 3 years on bike trips in May or June. Although there had been sightings this spring, sadly they were not in their usual haunts on this occasion, apparently visiting nearby farmland where some pools have been dug for them, but the location of these were not known to me. Also on the list of possibilities was Grey Partridge, which have been thin on the ground at my usual site of St Aldhelm's Head this year. Although I could see partridges in a distant field when I got a bit closer they turned out to be Red-legged.

Grizzled Skipper, Martin Down, 23rd May

Having done a circuit of that part of the down I made my way back to the original location of the Rosefinch. The Red-footed Falcon had re-appeared so Andy had left to look for that, but a few other birders had the same idea as me of hoping that the Rosefinch would return to the scene of past crimes and start singing again as the day cooled.

Small Blue, Martin Down, 23rd May

By 1800 it had been over 2 hrs since I arrived and 3 since the last sighting so I was beginning to lose hope, and wandered off from the small crowd to look for Marsh Fritillaries near a damp triangle of grass where I had seen them in previous years. I had gone less than 100 yards when I heard the very distinctive 'Pleased to meet you' song of a Common Rosefinch - I looked back at the others but no-one else seemed to have heard it so I beckoned them over and sure enough it sang again. 

Red-legged Partridge, Martin Down, 23rd May

The only thing we had to rule out at this point was someone playing a tape but diligent detective work by Dave Bishop checking a path hidden from view below us established that there was no-one there. A few seconds later and the bird sat up in a tree and while it became elusive for the next few minutes it eventually settled on a visible song-post and sat out for all to see.

Grey Partridge, Martin Down, 23rd May

Flushed with success, I decided on one last twirl around the down, back to the lower car park, where the field which held Red-legged Partridges earlier in the day held a pair of Greys, followed by one last, unsuccessful search for Turtle Doves before heading for home. Yellowhammer and Corn Bunting, both of which seem to be doing well in this area, cheered me along - although with hindsight perhaps the latter's 'jangling car keys' song was in fact trolling me with a reminder that there are easier ways to get to Martin Down! Dinner comprised a meal deal from a garage in Wimborne, and it was pretty dark by the time I completed the 55 mile round trip to chalk in Common Rosefinch as the 278th species on the bike list. 

Corn Bunting, near Cranborne, 23rd May