Western Swamphen – Alkborough Flats Nature Reserve, near Alkborough, Lincolnshire, 10^th September 2016

Having ‘dipped’ the (same) bird at Minsmere RSPB Reserve in Suffolk (or at least failed to find the opportunity to go before it did on Saturday the 6th August 2016!) I was massively consoled when it was relocated some 140 miles to the north-west (if it flew like a crow.....) at Alkborough Flats Nature Reserve in Lincolnshire on Tuesday the 30th August 2016.

Just where it originally came from and what it was doing between the 6th and the 30th August didn’t particularly exercise me. What did exercise me was just how I was going to work in seeing it in amongst everything else. For example, I was in deepest Aberdeenshire when the news broke and remained there until returning to Edinburgh late the next night.

I was bogged down with work on the Moray Reinforcement Pipeline Project in Aberdeenshire and also the second Castle Stuart Golf Course Project in Highland until Tuesday the 6th September or so. However, simultaneously, I was ‘phoned by best mate Gary on Monday the 5th September offering me use of his season ticket for the Burnley v. Hull City game on Saturday the 10th September.

A scheme of things then began to emerge involve seeing the bird (or at least attempting to!) and seeing the Burnley v. Hull City game in a combined mission.

I was though, constrained by my commitment to take Tessa to gymnastics after school on Friday the 9th September. This meant I wouldn’t be able to leave until c.14:00 on the Friday; it certainly wouldn’t be a birthday tick, although it could still be a belated one....... .

I e-mailed Ken on Tuesday the 6th September, making a tentative suggestion of going for the swamp monster with him on the Friday.

This scheme of things came to fruition, so that having dropped Tessa off in Linlithgow before 14:00 we journeyed through indifferent weather (rain on the M74 and then it nearly went dark an hour or so before we got there whilst we were on the AI(M)!) via the M8, M74, M6, A66, A1(M), M62, M180 and M181 (eh?) to Scunthorpe and then local roads around Scunthorpe and beyond to Alkborough.

But where to go ........?

Under the duress of impending darkness, clarity of thought wasn’t foremost, and we were befuddled by the ‘directions’. Initially, we humm’ed and harr’ed about just which of the signposted car-parks in and around Alkborough to use. We selected the right one but hurried from there down off the escarpment towards the reserve below for no particular reason. Here we met a birder coming back from the reserve who suggested that the only other birders around were the local boys we had chatted to who were walking out to the hide from the car-park accessible from within Alkborough itself. We stormed back up the escarpment and jumped back in the car and returned back into the village and down the escarpment to the other car-park.

From here we yomped to the hide with the expectation that it would be on view from there.... .

It wasn’t, and worse, the hide was occupied by a couple of ‘know very little’s’ and a couple who had the good sense to leave.... .

We stayed longer than was necessary in the forlorn hope of it suddenly appearing, but there was no chance (all the more so when we got to grips with its whereabouts the following morning).

But I am getting ahead of myself.

We returned to the car and travelled back into Scunthorpe where we eventually found somewhere suitable to eat, drink and be snorey. Not easy in somewhere like Scunthorpe.

Better, the place (a half decent hotel) did breakfast from 06.30.

We were there for said breakfast soon after that time, which meant we were back at the original car-park relatively early that morning. Two or more cars gave hope. As did a group of three birders making their way south along the top of the ridge as I now believed we should have done.

Better still, when we followed, we met two birders coming back from the same direction, one of whom provided Ken with confirmation that it was showing, and detailed directions as to the location from which it could be viewed.

We made our way along the field edge and then down the bank onto the parallel track, and then through a gap in the hedge to the west and along a footpath to a point above some horse paddocks. Here we caught up with the three birders and joined them scanning the distant pools.

Or rather, one pool in particular. Initially, I struggled to work out which pools we were meant to be looking at, but once I got properly set up, I joined Ken and the others scanning one particular edge of the pool in question. I quickly grew bored of scanning this one area, in which the monster was meant to be lurking / emerging.

I began to scan further afield, along the back edge of the same pool. Almost immediately I began to do so, a distant apparition appeared which I (slowly?) realised was it. “I think I’ve got it”, and then, “I’ve got it”, I heard myself saying. I indeed had, but how to get Ken and the others on it? An Avocet standing alone in the middle of the pool made a useful reference point and reasonably quickly everyone else got on it relative to this.

It continued to show, on and off, as it worked its way along the edge of the reed-bed for the rest of the time Ken and I afforded it.

At times it was difficult to locate due to the distances involved, and the light conditions, and the fact that it was often either against, or within, the edge of the reed-bed.

But when it was on view it was bleeding obvious (at least with the ‘scope zoomed up to 60x).

Indeed, it was massive and purple (actually blue) - fnarr fnarr.

No, it was indeed huge. And given the range involved, this was just as well (indeed, given the light conditions the previous evening, I think we may have struggled to see it even if we had been looking from the right place).

As suggested though, when it walked along / away from the edge of the reed-bed it was reasonably obvious, if only due to its size. It wandered alongside the reed-bed skulking in the edge and / or actively searching for and finding food (including, at one stage, what appeared to be a small fish, which it held in its foot).

It was large (the size of a chicken!), and could be of variable shape, depending on whether it was standing erect or reaching forward foraging, etc.. The legs were stilt-like but the neck could also be attenuated.

It had a large pinky-red bill and plate, long (very long) pinky-red legs and big feet and dark eyes (okay, we couldn’t really see this).

Its plumage was various shades of dark blue, constantly changing with the light, and otherwise it had brilliant white under-tail coverts which flashed as it regularly flicked its tail as it walked.

And then it was over to the BOURC....... (who did make the right decision).

Afterwards Ken and I journeyed from Alkborough to Burnley. We did this via Hardcastle Crags, Walshaw Dean, Gorple, Widdop, etc., as I indulged myself showing Ken around my teenage stomping grounds. We made it to Burnley in plenty of time and I duly went to the football match, and Ken suffered more, watching the game in the Talbot Arms. It ended 1.1 with Hull City equalising in the 96 minute.

But I’d seen the swamp thing.

Western Swamphen at Alkborough Flats Nature Reserve, near Alkborough, Lincolnshire, September 2016 (a still captured from a YouTube clip credited to Steve Clifton).

A further notebook type sketch of Western Swamphen. This also commemorates my finest ever moment speaking 'pidgin French'. Towards the end of  three plus weeks travelling alone whilst birding in Morocco in December 1991-January 1992 I visited the marshes of Oued Loukos, near Larache, hopeful of seeing Purple Swampthing for the first time.

Here I asked two young children tending their goats, "Où est l'oiseau avec le grand bec rouge," and they immediately responded,"Ici," pointing out at the nearby marshes! 

Clearly, even from a young age, Morroccans are very good linguists, and I am not.

 

Parrot Crossbill – Holme Norfolk Ornithologists’ Trust Reserve, Holme-next-the-Sea, Norfolk, 21^st October 1990

Brutalist sketch of a hulking brute. male Pine Crossbill.

Pete Ewer, having missed the Pied Wheatear at Newhaven in Sussex, was keen to see the one at Holme, Norfolk, and so despite having driven from beyond Penzance to St. Albans the previous day, off we went from St. Albans to Holme-next-the-Sea, or, more specifically the Norfolk Ornithologists’ Trust reserve at Holme.

On arrival we were hugely entertained by an eastern race Crossbill, huge being the operative word. We then moved on to the female Pied Wheatear which, once located, was also good value.

However, I suddenly became very much disinterested as news reached us of Parrot Crossbills in the plantation (whereas Pete, having seen the famous birds in the car-park at Well-next-the-Sea, was still more interested in the Pied Wheatear). Hurrying there, I was quickly able to locate the birds. After a crossbill autumn this was very instructive. Most diagnostic was the huge bill and head. Cumbersome birds clambering clumsily through the pines....... .

..... which also applied to birds seen in the plantation at Setter Hill Estate, Baltasound, Unst in October 2017.

The 'eastern race' Crossbill. Stonking. Holme-next-the-Sea, Norfolk, October 1990 (photograph credited to Peter Ewer).

Stonking x 2. Holme-next-the-Sea, Norfolk, October 1990 (photograph credited to Peter Ewer).

Male Pine Crossbill. Stonking x 2. Holme-next-the-Sea, Norfolk, October 1990 (photograph credited to unknown).

 Spectacled Warbler – Filey, North Yorkshire, 27^th May 1992

After the news broke on Sunday the 24th May 1992, I endured a non-twitching (non-) Monday Bank Holiday the 25th May. This was a lazy, misty non-event due to indecision and inconsiderate disappearances / reappearances of what, we were assured, was an authenticated first for the British / Irish List.

However, eventually I managed to work a situation which allowed me the tick. Circumstances prevented me going for it on the Bank Holiday, as suggested, when I wasn’t at work, and again did so on Tuesday the 26th May, when I was, but on Wednesday the 27th May, when I was – but wasn’t.... I finally twitched it. Successfully.

Having confirmed that it was still there I embarked on what proved to be a five hour drive to Filey. However, this was eased by Radio 5 and good navigation all the way to the scene.

Once there it was as simple as through the hedges, along another to a gap and then literally, there it was, very deliberately working its way along the same hedge, giving frequent views good enough to ‘scope, even though it was only c.15 m away. Whilst I was there it worked the quite thick hawthorn hedge slowly, generally moving right, and in so doing providing excellent views.

Then I just had to drive back to be at work the next day..... .

It was a diminutive Whitethroat / Lesser Whitethroat cross. It had a dark mask, a bright yellow-orange eye ring, and russet secondaries / primaries.

Wow!!! My first ‘first for’ since the Ancient Murrelet!

Spectacled Warbler, Filey, North Yorkshire, May 1992 (photograph credited to unknown).

Great and Cory’s Shearwaters – Porthgwarra / Western Approaches, 14^th / 15^th August 1993

Something a tad different; two for the price of one, as, predictably, I have frequently seen these species in conjunction, ever since I finally unlocked the mystery of 'large shearwaters' during a late summer trip to Cornwall in late summer 1993, but also subsequently. But more of that later. First, back to 1993.

Months before this tick, my birding mate Paul Pugh and I had committed to going on a Scillonian Pelagic in 1993. This was scheduled for Sunday the 15th August, and so we had driven to Cornwall on Friday the 13th August, having seen U2 at Wembley on the night of Thursday the 12th August. Glorious!

As the pelagic was on the Sunday we had time to do things en route and once in western Cornwall. For example, we visited both the Thorburn Museum in Liskeard and Porthgwarra on the Friday, although the first was more successful than the second. However, doing a sea-watch from Porthgwarra in mid-August, immediately prior to a Scillonian Pelagic, still felt like the right thing to do.

So, having had a good night in the Dock Inn in Penzance where we were staying, we tried again the next day. This time our sea-watch at Porthgwarra had one subtle difference....... it was successful!!

Despite the negative signs (on initial appearances it was even calmer than the previous night and those present had tales of very limited early morning sightings as Paul and I arrived), we scored in a big way in the 2.5 hours we were there. Having been told that there was no real point getting there too early, we didn’t. We opted for a 07:00 for 07:30 breakfast and so finally arrived at gone 08:00. As we arrived at the time-honoured sea-watching auditorium we were greeted by many birders and wonderful conditions.

A good early sign, despite the limited news, was a Basking Shark idly feeding at the base of the cliffs, plus leaping shoals of squid(?).

The whole scene, but the shark in particular, was magnificent. Pelagic bird species were apparently few, with a few Manx Shearwater (tantalising with the possibility of accompanying Mediterranean, or as we now say, Balearic, no, make that Mediterranean again!) passing westwards at the range of the Runnels Stone Buoy. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, a Great Shearwater (and then two Cory’s Shearwaters for good measure) at the same sort of range – went by.

The Great Shearwater was sufficiently close to get the cap and the under-wing pattern – all very impressive after being such a mystery for so long.

But strangely, due to the dread of 16 hours at sea the following day there was the feeling of slight frustration at the perversity of birding.... .

More was the anticipation for the following day. Indeed, expectations were fulfilled, and more. The shearwaters provided an encore in a big way during the Scillonian Pelagic out into the Western Approaches.

Paul and I were up at 04:15 for our sea-faring birding. We strolled across to the harbour from the Dock Inn to join the queue. We boarded after a short wait. As we tried to find a suitable place to base ourselves we spotted others, including Bernie Beck, cambering up onto the superstructure near the funnel, so we did the same, joining him and several other notorieties.

Fortunately, given my unease on the high seas, it was flat calm as we headed off out past Scilly in search of fishing boats.

An early Cory’s Shearwater did a close fly-past, and proved to us what a good vantage point we had.

Eventually we found fishing boats, and settled into a pattern of closing in, checking out the accompanying flock of birds, chumming as necessary, and then circling, before moving off to find the next boats.

This was very productive, Great Skua, Sabine’s Gull, Manx Shearwater, Cory’s Shearwater, Storm Petrel, Kittiwake, etc., were all seen. But no Great Shearwater! Was yesterday’s bird going to be it?

No. Arguably the best bird was a Great Shearwater, which, after we turned to go back, appeared, as if from nowhere, and swept straight towards our starboard bows and then memorably banked as it was alongside, flashing its under-wing in an apparent piece of supreme bravado.

The Great Shearwaters we saw were notable in terms of their size (a large shearwater, approaching a large gull in size), with a less than languid flight action involving a few stiff, quick flaps before a long glides..... . The plumage involved, basically, dark brown upper-parts and white under-parts. The upper-wings were progressively darker towards the tips, and the under-wings had a pattern of dark markings, particularly on the inner wing. They had a white collar / dark cap effect and a black-billed.

Having seen (poorly) two Cory’s Shearwater passing quickly westwards of Porthgwarra (quickly being the operative word – they moved extremely fast when they wanted to) I wanted better views. As we sailed westwards off Porthgwarra at the start of the Scillonian Pelagic the following day almost the first bird we saw as the day dawned was a Cory’s Shearwater, boding well. Good views were obtained, and others were seen later. However, as a finale, so as not to be outdone by the Great Shearwater perhaps, as we returned to Cornish waters several more were seen in the evening light.

The Cory's Shearwaters we saw were similarly notable in terms of their size (a large shearwater, approaching a large gull in size), with a languid flight action involving a few shallow flaps before a long glides on slightly bowed wings. The plumage involved, basically, grey-brown upper-parts and white under-parts. The upper-wings were progressively darker towards the tips, and the under-wings had a dark surround, particularly on the trailing edge. They were pale-headed and yellow-billed.

Subsequently, for many years, large shearwaters retreated from my focus unless I visited the Scillies in autumn, and sea-watched from Horse Point on St Agnes or from the Scillonian in the 2010s.

However, meanwhile, the world was changing  rapidly, and on a few occasions I managed to see lone Cory's Shearwaters in the Firth of Forth in the 2010s and 2020s. Indeed, one transformed into a Scopoli's Shearwater almost before my eyes in August 2020, immediately before I moved back into the centre of South Queensferry; had I moved a few days earlier I would literally have been able to see this bird from the garden!!!!

Then, on the 17th September 2022 I was fortunate enough to be one of a handful of birders on the Isle of May who managed to see both Cory's and Great Shearwater flying north past the Low Light in a fantastically memorable couple of hours. One of those very centrally involved, Alan Lauder,  had grown up sea-watching from St Abbs Head and never in his wildest dreams had he imagined seeing a large shearwater in the North Sea, let alone both species.

Additionally, in September / October 2023, 2024 and 2025 Ken Shaw, Andy Williams and I had weeks on Lewis and in the second and third years put in a good amount of time sea-watching at the Butt of Lewis. Certainly on one occasion in 2024 this produced a steady passage of Great Shearwaters, such that we were each calling birds as they went through.

And lastly, in October 2024, during a week staying of St Mary's and birding the Scillies, Chris Pendlebury and made the very good decision to take the last Scilly Pelagics trip out to Bishop's Rock of the year on the 22nd, in the hope that the Red-footed Booby would still be there. It was, but just as memorable was the feeding frenzy of shearwaters, including loads of both Cory's and Great, no longer mythic but always epic. 

No photographs of either of the two shearwaters involved are available, I'm afraid. However, this photograph was taken from Porthgwarra on Friday the 13th August, and shows the Scillonian III plying her was back to Penzance two days before we boarded her for our very successful Scillonian Pelagic.

Redhead – Bleasby Gravel Pits, Bleasby, Nottinghamshire, 15^th March 1996

The news of the Redhead in deepest Nottinghamshire was unfortunately not revealed until Saturday the 9th March 2006. As I was already in South Queensferry with my ex-, Gilly, I couldn’t quite bring myself to journey down to Nottinghamshire again over the course of what was left of the weekend, so soon after my previous trip there (for the Cedar Waxwing on the 23rd February 2006). I decided to make the most of my weekend at home. This conviction was briefly swayed when Chris McGuigan phoned on the Sunday afternoon and suggested he was going down for it and all the other good stuff, Black-throated Thrush, Cedar Waxwing, etc.. However, the allure was brief and disappeared altogether when a 04:00 start on Monday morning was suggested. I therefore declined the offer, partly as I realised that behind this was an attempt to get me to take my car.

So, on the Monday, as had been arranged, I ‘phoned Mark Hannay, my birding landowner friend from this time, when I was in Galloway working on the Scotland to Northern Ireland Pipeline Project, about a night out at his place, Cardoness, to look at each other’s holiday photographs from our respective recent trips. I suggested that circumstances had changed somewhat, and Mark indicated that he would be interested in going for it with me. We developed a formative plan, which was further developed on the Tuesday night, but I was still surprised that he was able to get away early on Friday the 15th March. This strategy was confirmed on Thursday night, and so we were able to set off at c.10:30 on the Friday morning. After stops at the post office and bank in Gatehouse-of-Fleet, and the printers in Dumfries, we made our way to Bleasby in Nottinghamshire, arriving by late afternoon.

After a false start – walking alongside the wrong pit, and worse, the terrible stringing by me of one of the two Pochards on it, we were redirected to the Jubilee Pit. We drove back into the village, walked to the pit, and were confronted by some 50 Pochards moving away from us, amongst which Mark quickly located a slightly bigger, ‘odder’ version whilst I opted to put up my ‘scope, although I had glimpsed such a bird as I scanned.

We enjoyed, more or less to ourselves, the bird for some 20 minutes or so as it dived amongst the flock, bringing up large amounts of weed. It was distinctly, surprisingly so, different, bigger and bulkier, with a basically similar overall plumage pattern, except for darker grey flanks and upperparts. The head was rounder, the eye yellow rather than red, and the bill was distinctively marked.

Two (less than useful) 'context' photographs of the gravel pit involved. It's out there somewhere.

Redhead, Bleasby Gravel Pits, Nottinghamshire, March 1996 (photograph credited to unknown).

Eastern Olivaceous Warbler – Collieston, Aberdeenshire, 16^th September 2000

Not sure why, and maybe just excuses, but I quite like this improvised 'half-finished' field sketch attempt to illustrate the Eastern Olivaceous Warbler. It occurred to me that there was limited sense in trying to capture every last detail of every feather tract of a bird we can't (since the advent of Western and Eastern) identify in the field, and anyway, bet of luck getting it to pose in the open long enough to be able to sketch all of it! So this will have to do.

The news of an (Eastern) Olivaceous Warbler at Collieston, in Aberdeenshire on Wednesday the 13th September 2000 had me jumping about somewhat whilst I was waiting for Gillian to return with Ellen and Tessa. I began to instantly formulate my plans, ‘phoning Graham Clark and generally getting ready to go, come what may.

Once Gillian and the girls returned, I discussed my plans with her, and, as a result, it was agreed that I should take Ellen. We jointly packed up everything I might need for her, and then Ellen and I departed at c.12:37.

Despite the fuel crisis and speed cameras on the A90(T), I was determined to get there as soon as possible, and we did so at about 15:00.

I found the scene of the twitch easily enough, which proved to be an area of lawn with a caravan and car access behind some large old houses and gardens in the village of Collieston. This seemed ideal for Ellen as we were away from the road and so it proved, generally so at least. She was in her element and was befriended by a young boy from one of the houses, who offered her some of his chocolate bar.

Unfortunately, despite these seemingly ideal circumstances, the bird was not to be found.

After bribes in the form of a Milky Bar and also a nappy change, we moved to the Manse garden, which seemed to offer more prospect of the bird being there. Again, the proved to be ideal for Ellen, as there was a large lawn surrounded by the wooded cover in which her Dad hoped to locate the bird.

She really enjoyed this setting, in particular the steep slope, which she tried to climb up and down with mixed success, as well as the garden bench and the porch of the Manse, which she invited herself into. Perhaps she was trying to tell me she was cold. The small assembly seemed to cope with her presence in good spirit, but still the bird wasn’t found.

We took the hint and travelled back, stopping off in Stonehaven for fish and chips….. Damn, I had dipped!

However, the bird stuck and so at c.08:20 on Saturday the 16th September, Graham and I left for a weekend in the Aberdeenshire, the prime purpose of which, as far as I was concerned, was to finally get to grips with the Olivaceous Warbler. We arrived at c.11:00 to be told by Angus Murray, Calum Scott, et al., that we had missed it showing well at the Manse garden – by 10 minutes!

We, or particularly I, then endured 3.5 hours of misery trying to get good views of the bird. It continually eluded my forlorn attempts to see it both at the Manse garden, and after it had been flushed (possibly by me!) back at the gardens behind the Post Office. Apart from a Pied Flycatcher and some Goldcrests, I saw little throughout this period. Graham did get adequate views during this time, but for me anyway, these views were dire. When the bird was showing it was always obscured, and often I was only able to follow its movements by following the movements of vegetation.

Graham left to go off birding at c.14:30, after which I preceded to get some 2.5 hours of good views, until his return. Initially, it was watched as it slowly worked its way through the coppiced willows, again betrayed only by the movement of branches, before it finally gave itself up in the dog rose hedge alongside the field and then in the lower branches of the conifer. From then on, it was generally in view in either of the two sycamores or in the conifer.

Whether this apparent change in behaviour was due to the warm afternoon sunshine (in contrast to the weather of the midweek afternoon visit) or the gradual reduction of numbers of birders looking for it (eventually I was one of two people watching it) was not clear, but it certainly did show well for much of the afternoon. Often, especially when it was in the sycamores, I was able to get on it with the ‘scope, and as a result I was able to examine it in some detail.

In flight the bird looked like a large warbler and was apparently grey (a similar shade to male Blackcap). However, when feeding and working its way through the branches of its chosen vegetation, it looked a browner colour

Although a Hippolais warbler, was superficially like a bleached Reed Warbler, both in structure and plumage. It was perhaps a few millimetres bigger than a Reed Warbler, but had a more attenuated appearance, particularly regarding the head and bill. The forehead was flat and sloping, and the bill was long and narrow, with a yellowish base to the dull grey-brown lower mandible. The upper mandible was also dull grey-brown. The ‘facial expression’ was blank, due to a faint supercilium that was concentrated in front of the eye and ended at the rear edge of the indistinct eye-ring with which it merged.

Tail flicking was not seen very often, if at all, and the grey-white outer edges and white tips to outer tail feathers were also not observed. It was though, heard to call very occasionally, a clicking ‘clack’ typically of such species.

It was apparently of the elaeica race (and as such subsequently became a full species, Eastern Olivaceous Warbler, in its own right).

It was eventually seen really well, and although examined in some considerable detail, and obviously an Olivaceous Warbler, the subtle nuances of its plumage compared to confusion species such as Reed Warbler and Booted Warbler and features such as the primary projection, tail-flicking, etc., not necessarily observed.

Eastern Olivaceous Warbler in the hand, Collieston, Aberdeenshire, September 2000 (photograph credited to Paul Baxter).

Gull-billed Tern – Penclacwydd Wildfowl and Wetlands Reserve, near Llanelli, Carmarthenshire, 19^th July 1996

Patience pays off. Having previously bemoaned my luck being in Central Scotland when this potential tick had reappeared in South Wales for the second weekend running, I scored the following Friday. It was my ex’s Gilly long weekend, so I too left work in mid afternoon on the Thursday, to meet up with Gilly and travel to my mother’s in Burnley / her parents in Accrington, taking in the Spanish Sparrow on the edge of the Lake District on the way (if only it was that easy on the previous Sunday!). As we got to Lancashire, a message on the pager informed me that Phil from Bolton was offering a lift. I ‘phoned him from Gilly’s parents, and after he had given me copious amounts of directions, he then suggested a 02:00 departure. I was knackered anyway as it was so, belatedly I declined the offer!

Consequently, I was faced with another solo twitch as Gilly in turn declined my offer. I set the alarm, not knowing what time I wanted to get up at, but, as it was, I awoke anyway at 04:45 and so was away by 05:15. With minor delays in the vicinities of the Birmingham and Cardiff conurbations I made good progress into deepest South Wales. The pager had told me that the bird was still present, on the estuary from the Copperhouse roundabout, but then at 09:06, as I approached Llanelli, the news was updated to say that the bird had left there and flown towards the Penclacwydd Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust reserve. I was therefore able to drive straight there, following the brown ‘constipated duck’ signs. The only trouble was that it wasn’t open until after 09:30. However, just when I was thinking it might have disappeared again by this time, at 09:16, as I got closer, a further message told me that the reserve was now open.

Once there I assembled my gear, and on reaching the entrance was greeted by a very enthusiastic staff member. I paid my (reduced) entrance fee, and was then escorted to the British Steel Hide. From here views across the saltmarsh and pools were possible. Roosting alongside the pools were flocks of Black-headed Gulls, amongst which was the Gull-billed Tern.

I took it in well, as at first it was roosting (looking almost moribund and so easy to draw), but later becoming more active. It flew around circling and wheeling over the saltmarsh, and showing well, at one stage mobbing a Grey Heron with an eel. It continued this pattern of resting and then flying around throughout my stay. 

The atmosphere in the hide was comparatively relaxed due to the ease of seeing this otherwise difficult bird. At one stage it was noted by the assembled crowd in the hide, including Lee Evans, to be really struggling to scratch itself with its right foot. It became apparent that its left leg was gammy as it badly hobbled each time it attempted to stand on its left leg. I said something like, “I wonder how long it will take it to work out that if it swims it will be able to scratch its head whilst it floats,” at which point someone suggested, rather bizarrely, that I must have been a Gull-billed Tern in a past life!?*?

It was excellent to get such good views of an otherwise difficult bird. Its overall appearance was similar, obviously, to Sandwich Tern, with the same basic plumage pattern of light grey upperparts and white underparts, and a black cap. However, the build was heavier, and it was longer legged. The legs were black, as was the bill which was a sturdy dagger shape. The black cap was more like Common Tern in size and shape. Whilst resting, the tail streamers were observed to be just longer than the wing tips, although it was not noted whether this was the case when the bird standing. In flight, the upperwing showed a definite primary wedge on the outer primaries, which was also observed on the underwing. The tail was only slightly forked, perhaps as it was in moult.

An excellent bird, leaving me very grateful that finally one had stayed around!

A general view from the hide at Penclacwydd WWT Reserve.

Gull-billed Tern at Penclacwydd WWT Reserve, Llanelli. Carmathenshire, July 1996 (photograph credited to George Reszeter).