Second chances

Back in January there were various species wintering in Portland Harbour or on the Fleet which I would have dearly liked to have added to my non-motorised year list, but which at the time seemed too far away to track down by bike. They included such scarce waterfowl, in a Dorset context at least, as Red-necked Grebe, Velvet Scoter and Whooper Swan.

Whooper Swan (right), Hampreston

With my horizons broadened in the intervening months, today I wouldn't hesitate to 'pop down' to Ferrybridge or Abbotsbury. And one of the good things about year listing is that if you miss a species at the start of the year, there might be a chance to make amends when winter comes around again at the end. As November drew to a close, I had already caught up with a Red-necked Grebe at Studland, and the next 'second chance' species appeared in the same area, in the form of not one but four Velvet Scoter off Middle Beach.

Can I get a 'Whoop'? Apparently, yes.

It was late in the day when I first set off to look for them but, not for the first time this year, Garry Hayman was on site and kindly lingered until my arrival to point me in the right direction. The birds were extremely distant and the light was fading, so much so that I went back on the bike a second time later that weekend to see if I could improve on my views. They were a bit closer enabling some very poor record shots to be taken for posterity. In the middle of last week I had to give my son an early morning lift to work which is literally 200 yards from Middle Beach so I went for another quick look before starting work myself. It was a case of third time not much luckier but I did manage to photograph one Velvet flapping to reveal the diagnostic white wing panels.

    A record shot if ever there was one - but the double face-spots help identify this as a female Velvet Scoter

So two of the three wintering targets had been clawed back and sporadic reports of the third - a Whooper Swan at Longham Lakes - offered the prospect of completing the hat-trick. The problem was, with the dark evenings, I would be unable to get there mid-week, and last weekend was earmarked for a Uni friends re-union in Lyme Regis. In the end, after a lovely weekend and more ale than I can handle these days, I returned from Lyme a bit earlier on Sunday than expected, leaving the afternoon free for a bike ride. 

Another record shot showing the white secondaries of a Velvet Scoter

There had been no news on the swan all day, but after a couple of nights of over-indulgence, I was in the mood for some serious exercise so made the 14 mile trip to Longham in the hope of finding it. Conditions were a bit grim but not enough to stop me making progress, and I arrived at Longham about 1330. One other birder was present but neither she nor I could locate the swan on the lakes or surrounding Hampreston fields, and she left me to it. A second birder walked past and on enquiring if he had seen the swan he seemed reluctant to say and basically suggested I would have to find it myself - a most unusual response in the normally friendly world of birding.

A very distant Common Scoter (bottom left) also at Studland

This brought out my stubborn streak and I resolved that I damn well would find it myself, despite the hostile environment! I could see a few swans distantly but they were just white blobs through a hedge so couldn't be identified to species level. They looked nearer to Hampreston village, a mile or two away if I returned to the main road east of Longham, and a helpful couple explained that if I headed for the Church I should be able to view more fields from the footpath leading from there towards Longham. 

As I drove to Lyme Regis in foul weather on Friday night I was reminded that I had cycled the same 80+ mile return journey back in the summer to add Dipper to the non-motorised year list. This one was photographed on Saturday. 

On arrival I found what I assumed was the right footpath, signposted to Longham, and soon after located a decent herd of swans in the distance. Through my dinky MM4 scope they all appeared to be Mutes at first glance, but with some patient scanning eventually a slimmer, more elegant head and neck appeared and, at full zoom, the characteristic yellow wedge on the bill of a Whooper Swan came into focus. Success was sweet and the cold wind whistling over the fields immediately lost its bite.

Grey Wagtail, also on the River Lym this weekend

As I was watching the swans, the couple who had given me directions earlier appeared on another footpath apparently between me and the birds. I retraced my steps to the church, found the previously unseen right of way through the churchyard, and joined them on the public footpath to view the herd to the south. Through binoculars they hadn't been 100% sure that the bird they were focusing on was the Whooper but with the scope I was happy to remove any doubt for them and grab a few record shots for myself.

The Cobb at Lyme Regis with Golden Cap beyond

Mercifully, the wind was at my back for most of the journey home, and the year list had ticked over to 216. The next big milestone of 220 is therefore in sight, but for this to be achieved would require obscene levels of neglect of family duty as forthcoming weekends are earmarked for weddings, birthdays and Christmas gatherings. So as long as I don't change my behaviour too much I may well make it ;-).

Shetland: part the first

At the turn of last month, David Bradnum, Howard Vaughan, Bob Vaughan and I reprised our 2017 Shetland adventure with a week based on Muckle Roe, in the west of Mainland.

Woodchat Shrike at Barns Ness

Woodchat Shrike at Barns Ness

I don't think I could face writing a day-by-day account, let alone subject you poor innocents to it, so I'll try to wrap it up in just a few posts. Not that there weren't many highlights - there were plenty, and we saw a selection of birds that, had they been seen over the course of a week anywhere else in the country would have represented an excellent haul. But by Shetland's high standards it would be a lie to say that it wasn't just a wee bit anti-climactic.

The American White-winged Scoter at Musselburgh, flanked by two drake Velvet Scoter

White-winged Scoter (left) has a pink bill (yellow in Velvet) and a more prominent white 'uptick' over the eye

The main culprit for this was westerly winds: an almost constant stream of them preceded our arrival and they remained the dominant influence in the weather throughout our stay, depriving Shetland of the famous easterlies which have delivered so many beasts from the east over previous autumns.

One of a pair of Ringed Plover sheltering in tyre tracks on the beach near Busta House Hotel

And here's the other one of the pair

But I'm getting ahead of myself: first we had to get there. This involved me heading over to the east of the country to meet the rest of team who are London/Essex/Kent based. Our planned departure time of mid-morning gave me a couple of hours of daylight to head first to the Thames Estuary to scan for the Beluga Whale located a couple of days before. I failed to find it but it re-appeared an hour after I left - an inauspicious start.

A wind-swept Pied Flycatcher at Swining

A ditch-bound Common Snipe - one day it will be a Great!

There wasn't too much to divert us on the long road north - a Grey Phalarope at the well-appointed RSPB reserve at Old Moor and a party of Willow Tits on the Northumberland coast were barely a detour from the main drag, and we reached our first overnight stop in Berwick at a sensible hour. The following morning the Lothian coast offered a little more promise, with a Woodchat Shrike and Rose-coloured Starling at Barns Ness, plus a Pectoral Sandpiper and the long-staying American White-Winged Scoter at Musselburgh. We saw them all in beautiful light, the latter being my second encounter of the year with this bird after I caught up with in on a Scottish trip back in March.

This was the bird we initially identified as an Icterine Warbler based on the lead -grey legs...

...and apparent pale panel in the wing (we didn't get a good view of the primary projection)

A surprisingly calm crossing on MV Hrossey ended in a familiar sight: horizontal rain lashing the rock armour of Lerwick Harbour, though within minutes we had seen our first Otter and only Purple Sandpipers of the trip. Much of the rest of the day was a bit of a wash-out so we checked out our (plush) self-catering accommodation and gave the kettle its first workout of the week.

Later in the week we re-visited the re-identified Melodious Warbler

With better views the diagnostic short primary projection was more apparent

Melodious Warbler, Lunna

Undaunted we ventured out again later in the day to the picturesque Lunna Kirk, where we found what we took to be an Icterine Warbler. It was later re-identified as a Melodious - an even rarer bird for Shetland, making it a good if not entirely competent start to our birding week!

Howard channels Jesus at Lunna Kirk

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