A day out with the buoys

On the Saturday before last I took the boat to Brownsea for a rare winter landing trip. This is usually a great way to get close to waders in front of the hides, and in the days before Christmas, my old friend Hamish Murray, now Dorset Wildlife Trust's Conservation Officer, had been getting great photographs of the long-staying Stilt Sandpiper which had relocated there after extended stays at Lodmoor and Middlebere.

Great Northern Diver, Poole Park. Bonus points for naming the species of crab.

Great Northern Diver, Poole Park 

Unfortunately, on the day of my visit one of the pumps which manages the water levels had broken (pull your finger out, Hamish ;-), and the only waders on the unusually full lagoon were huddled way out on the islands in the middle. Compensation for this slight disappointment came in the form of plenty of good birds, a hunting Peregrine, the resident Red Squirrels and, best of all, the discovery of a Great Northern Diver crabbing the shallows in the unlikely location of Poole Park lake, which I had checked out before boarding the Brownsea boat. I was short of both time and light on that occasion, so I returned this Sunday for another look. It seemed that my luck had run out as park staff were collecting buoys from the Diver's favoured area, pushing it out to the centre of the lake.

Peregrine hunting on Brownsea lagoon, 6th June

Record shot of female Velvet Scoter south of Brownsea, 6th June

After scanning Holes Bay and finding it relatively empty, over a spot of lunch I decided on a change of scene and headed for Ferrybridge, a favourite area for birding at this time of year. I checked out Portland Harbour and photographed some distant Black-necked Grebes before heading for Chesil Cove, where Black Redstarts have proven photogenic in each of the last two winters. On arrival some passers-by suggested I look out for a whale or dolphin in the Cove which they had seen a few minutes earlier, and which they thought might be dragging a buoy from one of the many lobster pots in the area.

Red Squirrel, Brownsea Island

Red Fox, Holes Bay

I scanned the Cove and saw nothing, but looking further out I eventually picked up what looked like an orange buoy creating a bow wave as if being dragged through the water. Then at some considerable distance I saw a cetacean blow, and a small dorsal fin break the surface. It came up a couple more times and, bearing in mind my track record of not being able to identify things off the West Cliffs of Portland, I thought I had better take a photograph in the hope that would help.

Drake Wigeon, Holes Bay

Wigeon, Holes Bay

Within minutes a work colleague who volunteers for British Divers Marine Life Rescue arrived to follow up reports of a whale, suggesting that it had been seen by others before my arrival at the Cove. I checked my photos from which it was clearly a whale of some description while my colleague phoned an update to BDMLR based on what I had seen. We scanned some more but the whale did not resurface. I phoned Martin Cade at the Portland Bird Observatory to encourage him to keep a look out as the whale seemed to be heading broadly away from us and in the direction of the Bill. Sadly I did not see it again, and neither did Martin from a vantage point on the West Cliffs. By now the light was fading and I was still not quite sure what I had seen, but studying the photos through my inverted bins the shape of the dorsal fin started to remind me of the Humpback Whale I saw last February in Devon with Steve Smith. However, I lacked both the expertise and the reference material to be able to eliminate other species on the strength of that. On returning home and emailing the photos to various experts, however, my suspicions were confirmed when they positively identified it as a Humpback Whale.

Black-necked Grebe, Portland Harbour

Black-necked Grebe, Portland Harbour

With the identification confirmed, I posted some record shots on Twitter and, Twitter being Twitter, copped a bit of flack for not putting the news out sooner, based, I trust, on legitimate concern for the welfare of the whale. So for the record, I had the whale in view for just a few minutes, and within minutes of my sighting, BDMLR, who were exactly the people who needed to know about it should some kind of rescue mission be required, were on the scene having already heard the news from elsewhere. Given that the whale appeared to be heading strongly out to sea, and that the light was fading, there was not much more they or anyone else could have done to come to the whale's aid that afternoon.

Dark-bellied Brent Goose, Portland Harbour

Dark-bellied Brent Goose, Portland Harbour

I could perhaps, with hindsight, have got news out more quickly of a 'brief sighting of cetacean sp.' which, at that point, I could neither see nor identify - but if it's any comfort, anyone racing down to the Cove on the strength of that would have been disappointed. Anyway, let's hope it has freed itself and comes to no harm. There has been a lot of local media interest (best Q&A thus far - Interviewer: 'How big was it?'; me: 'Err, whale-sized?'.) and I asked the journalists I spoke to to give prominence to the marine conservation organisations like Marine Life and BDMLR who can give the best advice on reporting any future sightings. I am pleased to say most of them have done that thus far.

My distant record shot of the Humpback Whale - described (with some justification) by the breakfast DJ on Radio Solent as 'underwhelming' in photographic terms. A tad ungrateful though as I gave permission for him to use it on his website!

Black-tailed Godwit, Holes Bay

Shetland day 2: bring your waders

Our base for the first two nights on Shetland was a remote croft at Collaster on the western part of the Mainland. The croft had only been recently made available for self-catering and the owner had been taken aback by the level of interest in the property. He was a good host though, and as well as a warm welcome we found a fridge stocked with an impressive selection of breakfast meat. Keen to get out in the morning, we saved this for an evening fry-up, and while unlikely to appear in the M&S 'healthy eating' range anytime soon, it was an impressive spread.

Snipe

Golden Plover

Several frying pans were needed to hold the meat feast laid on for us: bacon, sausages, black pudding, haggis and saucermeat - a sort of offal-based, sausage-slab affair as far as we could tell, and apparently a Shetland speciality, pronounced by the locals as 'sossermit', almost in a single syllable.

Brambling

Ruff

Before that though there was birding to be done and bearings to be got. We started as we meant to go on, hunting out likely looking patches of habitat and grilling them for birds before moving on to the next. Over the next 24 hours my Shetland education continued, and I started to appreciate the radical differences between birding the archipelago in autumn and birding at home. Whereas in Dorset I might go to an extensive patch of specialist habitat or a nature reserve, up here a patch could be a tiny stand of willows or even a solitary tree.

Great Northern Diver

Great Northern Diver

Similarly, whereas at home I would typically avoid areas of human habitation in search of wildlife, on Shetland, gardens are one of the most likely locations to find the cover necessary to attract birds in an otherwise treeless landscape. 'Walk in the ditch, not in the road' was one of the many rules of the game to be observed and good guidance it was too - over the course of the coming days this flushed out a number of birds - nothing particularly rare, but enough to prove the wisdom of the advice. The poor weather continued, so there was also a bit of birding from the car in that first few days - a good way to see waders in roadside fields.

Hooded Crow

Slavonian Grebe

January....

Good news readers, I've decided to spare you the usual epic 'review of the year' post in favour of reflecting on 2016 via twelve month-by-month instalments during December. So a bit like a crappy advent calendar without the chocolates. Starting, then, with January which was warmer than usual - something to do with this, no doubt: one of the scariest info-graphics of 2016. Anyway, enough of sobering but educational scientific diversions - this was the year, after all, that the free world decided it'd had enough of experts, facts and truth in general. As well as mild, January was also, as I recall, unremittingly grey, so wildlife photography was a bit of a challenge. A few willing subjects presented themselves though, most memorably:

Black Redstart - this handsome male brightened up a grey day at Chesil Cove. My January 'photo of the month' - and bird of the month

Female Black Redstart also at Chesil Cove

This Great Northern Diver spent the New Year just yards offshore at Baiter Park in Poole

Russian Dark-bellied Brents were on the playing fields at Baiter

Purple Sandpiper on the stone steps at Sandbanks

Marsh Tits were coming to feeders at Corfe Castle in January

Blackbird in a rare front at Swineham

A wash up from north of the border

I've used up all the superlatives about Scottish landscapes and lochs in recent posts, so here are just a few photos to sweep up the remaining highlights of our Easter week on the west coast near Oban. 

Drake Eider in Oban Harbour

Female Eider, Oban Harbour

After a Golden Eagle-less day on the Ardnamurchan peninsula, the following day we saw one cruising over the coast road a few miles south of Oban. An emergency stop and fumble with the camera produced this photograph - I hoped it would circle, but as is often the way of the Golden Eagle, it pressed on purposefully

Raven frequented the point at Ardnamurchan

A pure-looking Rock Dove near Ardnamurchan Point, though I grant you it would have looked more convincing on a cliff face than a telegraph wire

The only Black Guillemot of the week which was still in winter plumage - photographed distantly from our cottage on the shore of Loch Creran

...and seen here passing a moulting Great Northern Diver like ships in the night. Not bad garden birds.

Eiders were also flying into the loch past the house in the morning and out again in the evening

Roe Deer near the cottage

Evening reflections and ripples on Loch Creran

Looking towards the head of Loch Creran from the cottage

View from the top of the Glencoe skilift - I was hoping for a Ptarmigan but to no avail

A direct approach to managing dog disturbance on Ardnamurchan. Probably a bit radical for the Dorset heaths.

A misty morning at Corran Ferry

Sunset looking towards Mull over Loch Creran

A big day out

It's traditional on our family holidays, if I pretend to be enjoying myself convincingly enough visiting shops, playgrounds, tea rooms etc, for me to be granted a day to myself to indulge in some wildlife watching and photography by way of a reward. And so it was last week in Scotland when I decided to try my luck on the rugged Morvern peninsula. The area enjoys high concentrations of both White-tailed and Golden Eagle, and there is also a good chance of Otter on the sea lochs.

Ringed Plover, Loch Sunart

Their presence given away by gentle, piping calls

Wheatear had been arriving in Dorset shortly before we left for Scotland - this one had done well to make it this far north

Having just caught the third Corran Ferry of the morning, my first stop was on the Ardgour side to check out the Black Guillemot colony in the rusty piers by the ferry slipway. I had seen plenty already in Oban but you can't have too much of a good thing and they did not disappoint.

Black Guillemot, Ardgour

A colony breeds on the rusty piers. Ten individuals are visible in this shot.

And when I say breed...

After Ardgour it was across familiar but still breathtaking territory to Strontian, stopping occasionally for photos of Great Northern Divers in Loch Linnhe from the roadside. From there I broadly followed an itinerary in Gordon Hamlett's Best Birdwatching Sites in the Scottish Highlands, along the southern shore of Loch Sunart for a chance of Otters and Eagles. I saw neither, but a close encounter with a pair of Ringed Plover and a fresh-in Wheatear were some reward.

Great Northern Diver moulting into breeding plumage on Loch Linnhe

Drake Goldeneye, Loch Arienas

Female Goosander, Loch Arienas

Then it was a long climb up Gleann Geal, pausing occasionally to scan for raptors, before dropping back down towards the Black Glen and the choppy waters of Loch Arienas. Pairs of Goosander and Goldeneye were the best I could manage there, so I retraced my steps to get back on the road to Lochaline. The guide book suggested scanning for Otter from the ferry slipway, so being the obedient sort that's what I did, and the first shape I 'scoped on the water turned out to be one. If only it were always that easy..

The best I could manage of the Otter at Lochaline

A slightly closer mammal in the form of a bold Red Deer stag near Kingairloch

Male Stonechat near Kingairloch

A scan with bins down the Sound of Mull caused a double-take when I saw the huge bulk of what could only be a White-tailed Eagle sitting on some distant rocks. I returned to the car to grab the telescope, only to find the bird gone by the time I had set it up! Very frustrating, it would have been a good telescope view, and despite much scanning I was left to conclude that it must have headed off to the south rather than in my direction.

Buzzard or 'Tourist's Eagle' as they are known in these parts

The sun rising over Loch Linnhe looking back to the Corran Ferry

View over Loch Sunart

No matter, I wasn't going to let it spoil my day, and by now it was already time to be heading back, which I did via Kingairloch and the coastal route along the shore of Loch Linnhe. An impressive stretch of highway pock-marked by rockfalls, it passes under a high cliff reminiscent of the road under the Gribun Rocks on Mull. Not a hugely productive day on the Eagle front, then, but an enjoyable trek through some outstanding landscapes all the same. Can't wait to go back.