Shetland day 8: fin - and an encore

Our last full day on Shetland started with us emptying the fridge for one final breakfast and cracking a few more slipway jokes before heading out into the field. First stop was a report of a possible Baikal Teal at Loch of Benston - plausible given the recent presence of one on Fair Isle - which had to be checked out. Satisfied it was 'just' a Garganey (still a Shetland tick for all of us) we moved quickly on to Kergord. A Bluethroat had been reported there in the 'Rustic Bunting ditch' and the team were keen to see it. We walked slowly down the hedge and it duly sat up on a post - too easy.

Bluethroat, Kergord

It was my second Bluethroat of the trip and to see the first I had crossed to Yell then Unst. At this point the rest of the team hadn't left Mainland the entire trip but were keen to put that right, and so a visit to Yell, for tea with the fittingly named Kettles, was proposed. Birders being birders, before we arrived at Adrian's house, we met him on the road scouting for the Ring-necked Duck which I had seen a few days before. We couldn't relocate it but a miserable looking Great White Egret near his house was our second of the trip.

'How did it come to this?' asks a sodden Great White Egret on Yell

After enjoying the Kettle's hospitality it was time to head back to Mainland and the ferry home. A couple of Bonxies in the sound between Yell and Mainland were our first of this Shetland visit. They were also our last 'trip tick' before we boarded MV Hjartland for another extremely smooth journey back to Aberdeen.

Great Skua off Yell

The end of a Shetland trip is always a bit of a downer, especially with a 600 mile journey ahead. But there was one more bit of potential excitement to be had about half-way home in West Yorkshire. On Thursday night, as we were preparing our penultimate meal in the Hoswick pad, a Temminck's Stint at Swillington Ings had been reidentified as a Least Sandpiper - a tick for Jono. Within the hour it was reidentified again as a Long-toed Stint - a tick for all of us given that the last twitchable bird had been in the 1980s when Bradders could barely drive a pedal car, let alone a Volvo! 

Long-toed Stint - a tiny bird a long way off!

Swilly Ings was just a 5 mile detour from our route south so it was barely an inconvenience to call in for a mega-tick and lunch courtesy of an extremely busy reception centre at RSPB St Aidans, to give it its proper name. We had opened a book on the way down about which birders on our ferry would beat us to it, and the odds on Cliff Smith being among them were pretty short. Sure enough, a tweet from Cliff confirmed he had seen the Stint just as we were parking up! Also there was Gary Thoburn whose lens I had returned on the ferry the night before, so this time Howard and Nick Oliver came to the rescue with the loan of cameras and lenses so I could grab a few record shots.

Amazing magnification on Howard's little superzoom

It was a satisfying end to a great week-and-a-bit, and meant that I maintained my record of a tick on each of my Shetland trips to date, even though this one wasn't actually on Shetland! The rest of the journey was painless, and I parted company with the team near Huntingdon, very much hoping it would not be our last Shetland adventure.

The long toes of the Long-toed Stint!

Shetland day 4: D-I-V-O-R-C-E

Day 4, like day 3, dawned bright and not very breezy - a rare treat in these parts two days running - so we started with a thrash around our temporary home patch at Hoswick. A nice selection of common migrants were seen, and Jono took one for the team by putting up a Jack Snipe at the price of falling balls-deep into rancid mud. As he returned to the house to clean up, I managed to locate another Jack Snipe bobbing in the sunshine in the incongruous setting of a field full of Aylesbury type white ducks. As we watched it we chatted with Claire and Nick Oliver, who had just arrived on Shetland and were staying nearby, before re-grouping at the house and heading off in the car.

Black Guillemot, Toft

Black Guillemot, Toft

Before we got far reports started to come through of a Lanceolated Warbler on Unst. This was my nightmare scenario: a species notorious for being misidentified on Shetland, on an island two ferry rides away, which the other three in the team had already seen and would thus be less inclined to take a punt on. Any potential tension over this predicament soon dissipated however, when Claire and Nick offered a lift to Unst to anyone wanting to go for the Lancy. 

Spotted Flycatcher, Hoswick

Jack Snipe, Hoswick

I really didn't want to leave the team, but Lancy was high on my 'most wanted' list, and after two previous Shetland trips without success, I felt I had to go for it. So we arranged to meet the Olivers in a lay-by and initiated divorce proceedings. There was no bitterness or acrimony as the paperwork went through, in fact it was all very civilised. But I'm sure I saw a tear in one of the team's eyes as I popped my satchel into the leather back-seats of my adopted folks' Range Rover. Perhaps in hindsight it was just jealousy at the fancier ride I was hitching, but I like to think not.

A poor year for Yellow-browed Warblers on Shetland - and this shocker at Gutcher was the only photo I managed!

And speaking of shocking photos, this one of the Ring-necked Duck on Yell made the other members of the BBT team extremely jealous 

The report of the Lancy sounded pretty definitive, but I had learnt from previous bitter experience that such reports could quickly evaporate as a result of misidentification. Memories resurfaced of one particularly grim scenario in a rain-swept Quendale with birders chasing a 'Lancy' around which turned out to be a very wet Chiffchaff. As we boarded the first ferry from Mainland to Yell, news came through that the bird hadn't been seen since the original report - not great, but not terrible either as this ground-dwelling species could easily go missing for such a time. We were then approached by another birder, Phil, who couldn't get a space on the ferry from Yell to Unst, so joined our make-shift crew in the hope that the Lancy would reappear.

Bluethroat, Quoys

Bluethroat, Quoys

We had a few minutes to spare before catching the Yell-Unst ferry, enough to stop by a loch on the main drag to tick a distant Ring-necked Duck. But just as we were about to board the ferry, the worst case scenario unfolded: news reached us that the 'Lancy' had been reidentified as the much commoner Grasshopper Warbler. 

Bluethroat, Quoys

Bluethroat, Quoys

My eye started to twitch like Herbert Lom in the Pink Panther films at this point, but we quickly concluded that we had passed the point of no return and pressed on to Unst. We didn't even bother to seek out the Gropper site and headed straight for a quarry at Quoys where a Bluethroat had been reported. An hour's kicking around produced nothing and then Phil managed to deduce that the dropped pin we had made for based on the Birdguides app had been dropped in the wrong place, and we were looking in the wrong quarry!

Bluethroat, Quoys

Bluethroat, Quoys

Heading a mile back down the road we quickly found the correct spot and within minutes had located the Bluethroat. This normally shy species first appeared at the back of the quarry hopping around a rusty manger, but then to our surprise and delight it started to head in our direction, and kept coming until it was barely a few metres away. A characterful bird, it completely saved the day with such a performance, and significantly lifted our spirits for the rest of the trip to Unst. 

Little Bunting, Gutcher

Little Bunting, Gutcher

On the way over whilst waiting for the Yell-Unst ferry we had seen a Yellow-browed Warbler in the last garden before the slipway, but were unable to locate a Little Bunting being looked for by Yell resident Adrian Kettle. On the way back Adrian was still staking out the same garden and got us onto the Little Bunting with plenty of time to get the final ferry of the day back from Yell to Mainland. 

In the meantime I had, of course, missed a belter of a day with BBT. Bradders had found a Radde's Warbler at Kergord, and Jono had picked up an adult White-billed Diver at South Nesting, plugging the gap on his trip list as he was absent when we saw one on the Northumberland coast on the way north. The Olivers were keen to catch up with at least one of these before dusk so we headed for the Radde's and managed fleeting views as it skulked in the long grass.

We returned to Hoswick and I was reunited with the rest of the team just before the decree nisi was pronounced. We patched things up over dinner and agreed never to speak of my unfaithfulness again. As for the Lancy, well that goes into the 'good reasons to keep going back to Shetland in Autumn' category for another year... 

 

On the beaches of Brittany

By the mid-point of our recent family holiday to Brittany my attempts at wildlife photography had been confounded by the weather. Not only did the low light present a challenge, but the cool conditions had been holding back the spring migration of birds and the early emergence of butterflies which I had hoped would be well underway by mid-April. So when the sun put his hat on for a few hours we were tempted to head down to the beach at Suscinio, at the eastern end of the Golf du Morbihan.

Male Kentish Plover, Suscinio

The male's plumage matched the colours of the beach pebbles superbly

 A very attractive wader

I had walked a good 20 minutes from the car looking for the Bluethroats which breed there when the rain came down, catching me without a raincoat. It was probably the nadir of the trip and I shuffled back along the beach having seen no Bluethroats cursing my luck. I trudged past some small areas at the back of the beach which had been cordoned off for breeding Kentish Plovers, thinking how woefully inadequate they looked on a beach which appeared popular with dog-walkers and sun-worshippers.

A front view of the male's head pattern

The female Kentish Plover lacks the male's striking head pattern...

...making for excellent camouflage in the context of the beach as this wide-angle view shows

Then a peep just ahead of me alerted me to the presence of a pair of Kentish Plover - one of the birds I had most hoped to see on the beaches of Brittany. I had to walk past them to get back to the car so headed down to the water's edge to avoid any potential nest site and made my way carefully past. The pair posed beautifully for a few photographs as I skirted their adopted patch of beach.

White-spotted Bluethroat, Suscinio

A distinctive song from a distinctive bird

Now that's just showing off

The close encounter with the Plovers had put sufficient spring in my step to have another look for a Bluethroat - this time I was more successful, as a male belted out his song across the marsh behind the beach from a prominent perch. The rain had stopped by now and other birds decided to show themselves - first a Fan-tailed Warbler, the archetypal little brown job, and then a Black-winged Stilt, a proper newspaper of a bird with its red, black and white plumage.

A typical view of the skulky Fan-tailed Warbler, though one would occasionally burst into the air in song flight...

...and a couple of times sat out in the open

Fan-tailed Warbler

The weather and my mood had improved substantially by this point so I returned to my ever-patient family. As we left we were serenaded by a deafening frog chorus, but couldn't see a single one of the choristers! I can highly recommend Suscinio if your are in the area - a fairy tale Chateau provides a stunning backdrop to the wildlife-rich marshland behind the sweeping bay, and if you are short of time and energy, you don't have to go far from the car park to enjoy it all.

Black-winged Stilt, Suscinio

A presumed male, judging by the extent of black on the head...

...and a presumed female flying over the car park

April...

I'm not sure I am going to get through this review of the year at this rate, so expect increasingly frequent and more badly drafted posts from this point on as I seek to catch up. The highlight of April 2016 for me was a family holiday in Scotland, in a divine cottage on the shores of Loch Creran. Divers, Tysties and Eiders from the garden made for a special location, and a bit of Scottish nightlife was on show too thanks to the moth trap. Despite some typically dreich weather, the birdlife in Oban Harbour provided plenty to photograph:

Black Guillemot, Oban Harbour: my photo, and bird, of the month for April

Iceland Gull, Oban Harbour

Hooded Crow, Oban Harbour

On returning from Scotland, spring migration was in full flow in Dorset - I was able to photograph an approachable Hoopoe, a more elusive Bluethroat and a positively coy Western Subalpine Warbler on the same memorable day on Portland:

Hoopoe, Portland

Western Subalpine Warbler, Portland

White-spotted Bluethroat, Portland

Closer to home spring also produced some good birds around Purbeck: Nightingales returning to their traditional breeding site on the Corfe Ridge, Hobbies hawking over Stoborough Heath and, one of the patch highlights of the year, a strikingly summer-plumaged Bar-tailed Godwit at Swineham.

Nightingale

Hobby, Stoborough Heath

Bar-tailed Godwit, Swineham

 

Migrants bremain on Portland

Hoping to see some migrant birds this weekend I weighed up the choice between flogging around what, for reasons of chronic neglect, I hesitate to call 'the patch', or heading to the sun-kissed heights of Portland. In the end I surprised myself by managing a bit of both thanks to a late evening walk around Swineham on Saturday and a day unusually free of other commitments on Sunday.

Predictably, Sunday on Portland was the more productive for both common and rarer migrant birds, though Swineham certainly held its end up, bless it, with a monster flock of hirundines, a few Willow Warblers and a couple of Sedge Warblers - not to mention a glorious sunset. I will return to those in a later post, and for now focus on the minor rarities which enlivened the visit to Portland - continental overshoots and a timely reminder that, whether you are thinking of voting for 'Brexit' or to 'Bremain', nature knows no boundaries.

Hoopoe - this long-staying bird at Suckthumb Quarry achieved celebrity in the local paper

It fed voraciously in front of an orderly line of photographers, perhaps finding them barely perceptible in their camouflage jackets lying against the white surface of the quarry floor

A more conventional view of the Hoopoe in profile - a very popular subject with birders, photographers and passing residents alike - and who can blame them

The Hoopoe is notoriously insecure - despite its great beauty it still tries too hard to look like a Peacock

The Hoopoe's grasp of the principles of 'hide and seek' is also a slim one

But if you've got it, flaunt it, I say

Another successful feeding foray - looks like a leatherjacket

A male Western Subalpine Warbler on the East Cliffs lacked the Hoopoe's exhibitionist tendencies

Its feeding habit of carefully picking insects from the Alexanders meant that it was often out of sight

Up there with the Hoopoe for its striking appearance was this White-spotted Bluethroat

It was feeding Wheatear-style in a ploughed field a short walk from the Subalpine Warbler