Turkestan Shrike – near Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, 12^th July 2022

Although it had disappeared 20 minutes after it was first noted near Staple Neuk at Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve near Bempton in East Yorkshire (before it was then relocated just inland the following day, Tuesday the 28th June), nominally a stunning adult male Turkestan Shrike had been available for days and weeks after it was first found on the 27th June……. .

I needed it, but first…… .

Taxonomic context…..

The British List, as curated by the British Ornithologists’ Union Records Committee (BOURC), adopted a series of taxonomic decisions made by the International Ornithological Committee (IOC) from the start of 2018. One of these was that Isabelline Shrike was (in the context of British records anyway) split into Daurian Shrike (Lanius isabellinus) and Turkestan Shrike (Lanius phoenicuroides) (called Isabelline Shrike and Red-tailed Shrike respectively by IOC).

Although ‘Isabelline Shrikes’ are almost annual, with over 100 having been recorded in Britain by the time this split officially happened, I had only seen one, way back in October 1988 in Durlston Country Park outside Swanage in Dorset. This was partly as I only need to see one for my list, although I subsequently regretted not to bothering to see the November 1993 one at Fife Ness in Fife for my Scottish list.

Further, since the first record of an Isabelline Shrike (on the Isle of May in 1950!), there had been 108 records of Isabelline Shrike spp. until the end of 2020. These had not been assigned to either isabellinus or phoenicuroides as they haven’t yet been re-submitted and / or reviewed and accepted as one or the other (or as insufficient detail was recorded to assign the bird involved one way or the other); presumably the BBRC may eventually consider further assessment of previous records to see how many can be assigned one way or another? Meanwhile, up until the end of 2020, there had been ten accepted records of Daurian Shrike and seven records of Turkestan Shrike.

Put another way, between when the split came into force on the 1st January 2018 and the end of 2020, there were six accepted records of Isabelline Shrike spp., just one accepted record of Turkestan Shrike (involving a bird on North Ronaldsay for two days in August 2020) and no accepted records of Daurian Shrike.

So, although, to date, Daurian Shrike has been regarded as the more regularly occurring of the two species, as most birds have not yet been officially accepted to the level of the new species this may not be an accurate reflection of the actual situation.

Sometime after the split came into force, I casually conducted an online search to see whether I could ascertain whether or not the Durlston Country Park had been identified to sub-species level. According to my sources (presumably the Dorset Bird Club, but sadly this wasn’t recorded) the bird had been considered to be a Lanius (isabellinus) isabellinus.

So, I was happy enough that ‘my’ bird had been considered to be Daurian, but I then omitted to check whether it had indeed been accepted by BBRC as such!! It hadn’t, as it happens, so technically, therefore, I still need a ‘good’ Daurian Shrike, but that’s another story....... .

…… and, now, the horrific ‘tales of woe’ context….. .

By the time spring 2022 commenced, my last tick, the Long-toed Stint at Swillington Ings, West Yorkshire, in October 2021, seemed like a very long time ago.

However, months earlier I had lined up two visits involving a week or more – to the Isle of May between the 14th and the 21st May 2022 and to Shetland between the 1st and 8th June 2022, respectively, and, additionally, much nearer the time, I had wrangled an additional week on the Isle of May between the 27th April and the 4th May 2022. I fantasised with Steely the ultimate ideal of finding a tick for myself on the Isle of May – one of the three Subalpine Warbler species would do; after all, the timing was bang on, so why not? And failing that, surely the first week of June in Shetland would deliver something?

As it happened, there was a dearth of common migrants, let alone scarce or rare ones, on both visits to the Isle of May. On the last day of my Low Light visit (I had stayed in Fluke Street during my first visit) we thought we had managed to save the trip. That said, this had already involved Honey Buzzard and Bluethroat for some of us, and then a stonking Rustic Bunting that Ken located and suspected and I relocated and confirmed (before disgracefully then managing to lose it for the assembled crowd, only to be saved when Chris Broome extracted it from his nearby net and produced it before my very eyes….). This ultimately proved to be the bird of the spring for me, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

On our last day, Andy Williams had a Ring-necked Parakeet come in off the sea from the direction of Fife before landing on the crest of the brae opposite the Low Light terrace. Here it showed for everyone before flying south before the returning Steely reached the island…. . I even contemplated the ‘fact’ that we had a winner in the predict the next (i.e., the 100th) new species for the Bird Observatory, as someone had predicted ‘Green Parrot’. However, no sooner had we left the island than the bird was rediscovered and promptly proceeded to disgrace itself by, firstly, accepting food from the hands of those staying in Fluke Street before, secondly, willingly moving in to the residential quarters there. As such, soon afterwards ‘Leo’ the parakeet was unceremoniously repatriated back to its owner, who travelled from Glenrothes to collect ‘him’ (actually ‘her’) from the crew of the May Princess in Anstruther.

Anyway, where was I? Months earlier, Gary, Chris, Steve and I had all agreed we fancied taking in the Rugby League Challenge Cup Final at the New White Hart Lane in London on Saturday the 28th May 2022, and so Steve had duly arranged tickets. As the base for the weekend was necessarily going to be Gary’s flat in St. Albans, and as I no longer had ‘staging posts’ en route like my Dads in Chesterfield on my car journeys, I opted to book return train tickets from Dalmeny to St. Albans via Edinburgh Waverley via King’s Cross and St. Pancras. Besides, fuel was increasingly expensive, taking the train was more environmentally sound, and I had a senior railcard. It was a no-brainer.

I travelled south on Friday the 27th May. The previous day an Eleonora’s Falcon had been reported on RBA, having been identified from photographs flying over the scrapes at Sandwich Bay Bird Observatory, before briefly being seen at Stodmarsh. So, the following day, as I sent off on my train journey south, the significance of further sightings at Worth Marsh barely registered; it was a highly aerial / very mobile Eleonora’s Falcon after all, it was never going to linger….. .

I was intent on travelling light, and never gave any thought to taking my binoculars. However, by the time I reached King’s Cross and St. Pancras (as close as I was to get!!!) that evening, there had been 30 Rare Bird Alert messages about it ‘still showing at Worth Marshes’. Ho-hum.

These continued as I travelled to St. Albans, rendezvoused with Gary, and we rendezvoused with Chris and Steve, etc..

I was very slow to realise the significance of this; it was, as I say, a highly aerial / very mobile falcon, and just wouldn’t linger. Would it?

But it did, big-time. It was there the following day, when again I got as close to it as King’s Cross and St. Pancras en route to the New White Hart Lane in Tottenham. By the time we had returned to St. Albans and retreated to the Goat Inn for the evening to watch the chaotic Champion’s League Final I had cracked, and very provisionally I had agreed with Gary that if it was still there then following day, I could borrow his car and drive it on a third party insurance basis to Worth Marshes and back, taking with me the binoculars Evan and Kirsty had bought him for his birthday so he could take them to Chile, the Falklands, South Georgia and Antarctica when we went on our expedition there….. .

I tried not to drink too much that night and was in a reasonable state the following morning. Helpfully, there was very early positive news at 05:11 on the Sunday morning, but as Gary hadn’t abstained the previous night, I was loathed to either wake him, or to just take his car. Then, the next message, at 07:04, suggested there was no further sign, and I convinced myself it had moved on; after all, it and several Hobbies and a Red-footed Falcon MUST be rapidly depleting the available aerial insect prey?

So, I abandoned the provisional scheme I’d agreed with Gary, and this remained the case when there was again positive news at 08:44, 09:38, etc.. There would still have been time, as my return train didn’t depart from St. Albans until the late afternoon, but, frankly, I had bottled it; it just felt all a bit too contrived, driving there and back in Gary’s car without proper insurance cover, with just some rather average binoculars….. .

How I regretted this when I saw some of the photographs taken that day, and on other days. I journeyed back home, and it remained faithful to Worth Marshes until Saturday the 4th June, well into my visit to Shetland…… .

AAAARGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!! One of my truly most disastrous ‘misses’; right up there with Long-billed Murrelet.

Anyway, having arrived back home very late on Sunday the 29th May, on Tuesday the 31st May I drove to Aberdeen and collected eldest daughter Ellen and her long-term boyfriend Shane before we boarded the overnight Northlink ferry to Lerwick via Kirkwall.

Ellen and Shane had for a good few-years both lived in Aberdeen when they were students and now lived there together as they had both started full-time employment. Given that Aberdeen was often my point of departure if and when I went to Shetland, I had asked Ellen whether she might like to go to Shetland sometime. To my delight she had suggested she would, so I had picked up the idea and ran with it, eventually booking my car and berths for us on the ferry, and an AirBnB place in central Lerwick between the 1st and 8th June. What was not to like, Shetland in early June with eldest daughter and her boyfriend…. ?

That was the principle, and a fine one it was, too.

However, in practice, it wasn’t quite as simple as that. I was very much forgetting that Ellen and Shane were a young couple, who were both until recently full-time students, and were now both in their first full-time employment. So, despite the vague idea that I was going to show them Shetland, and that, as and when birds turned up on off-islands, we would go for them so I could show them the islands as well as mainland, it didn’t quite work out like that.

Ellen and Shane were committed to enjoying a very relaxing holiday, their first together since Shane had started his job. As such, early on in the week, I often waited around in the morning until they finally got up at 10:30 or 11:00; after all, I was meant to be showing them around!

And then once they were up, it was sometimes tortuous deciding what we were going to do.

Anyway, one thing we were agreed on was going to Mousa one late evening to see the broch and its Storm Petrels. Ellen, bless her, was proactive in booking this for £30 each online on her mobile; in doing so she had managed to get us places on what was an additional sailing.

This was booked for the late evening of Sunday the 5th June, and undoubtedly it was one of the very best things we did.

It involved getting to the quay in Sandwick by 22.30 so we could be on the island ‘after dark’, or, at least, after what passed as dark in the midsummer dim.

We had a leisurely day visiting St. Ninian’s Island, and various places in South Mainland, before returning to our place in Lerwick to have a meal and prepare for our evening adventure. Or at least it was leisurely until when news broke of a Moltoni’s Warbler at Valyrie on Unst just after 18:00. Now, I could have got there (and back) that night, but that would have meant ditching our booked trip to Mousa, which had cost £90 and was something we had all committed too. Things had been quite fraught at times so I just couldn’t, and indeed wouldn’t, go there. And anyway, it would still be there the following day, and we could all have a day on Unst. Surely? Was it thump!

AAAARGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!! Another disastrous miss.

This was compounded by the news that earlier in the day a White-throated Needletail had been picked up and released on the Ortelius expedition ship close to Fair Isle, Shetland at 05.37 that morning, which SO easily (if it had done the decent thing) could have ended up at Sumburgh Head and / or Noss Head (as a Pacific Swift did a few weeks later).

So, Shetland was a tale of what might have been yet again, with the best birds ‘seen’ being a Icterine Warbler and a Quail (which were both actually heard only!). Just to rub it in, within days there was a bull Orca cruising around of the tombolo at St. Ninian’s Island, oh, and a summer-plumaged Broad-billed Sandpiper at various places in South Mainland; just a Scottish tick, but, in the circumstances, it would have done.

Anyway, consolation was perhaps to hand, as the returning Short-toed Eagle had been seen in deepest Sutherland on a more or less daily basis every day ever since it was first seen on the 24th May. Necessarily, I hadn’t been able to go for this between the Isle of May and the Shetland trips, but I could go direct from the Shetland trip IF it continued to behave? Maybe that could be my compensation after the disastrous misses of Eleonora’s Falcon and Moltoni’s Warbler?

Throughout my stay in Shetland, it was seen day after day, and as such, I gathered what information I could to facilitate my twitch. In particular, I contacted Donald Wilson on the 3rd June as he had seen it on the 1st June, and he certainly produced the goods in terms of gen.

Ellen and Shane got the overnight ferry back to Aberdeen on the 7th June, whereas I had to wait until the 8th June as there was no room for the car on the 7th. When I had booked, I’d thought this was a bonus, an extra day in Shetland during early June, what’s not to like?

The Short-toed Eagle was seen on the 7th June, when I had a leisurely day pre-ferry, walking the Wester Quarff circuit and touring South Mainland, and generally seeing nowt.

So it was that I drove off the ferry at around 07:30 on the morning of Wednesday the 8th June, and drove direct via the A96 and the A9(T), and various roads to and beyond Lairg all the way to Dalreavoch. Even though part of my premise was that there was no point driving from Aberdeen home to Queensferry and then from there back up to the wilds of Sutherland, it was a long drive!

However, once there, after some indecision about the right place at which to commence my walk (despite Donald’s excellent instructions), I teamed up with a youngish birder who had also travelled from Aberdeenshire who arrived just after I did. He and I then walked up the track behind the Dalreavoch Lodge to beyond the plantation alongside it and then up onto the low hill which comprised the viewpoint from which people had been seeing the eagle. We didn’t necessarily make to climb up together; I found it a real struggle carrying all my gear and generally wobbling about due to my balance issue.

Anyway, we watched from the viewpoint and had an Osprey (which caused him a minor panic), before another birder, Colin Auld, arrived, and my original companion departed. Colin and I, in particular, put in a real shift, but to no avail. It was a great site; I could see why a Short-toed Eagle could get by there but….. . By c.18:30 I’d had enough and tramped back down to the car to continue the long drive home. I consoled myself by ‘phoning Andy Williams to tell him of my woes, and he suggested he would speak to fellow Highland birders to get as much gen as possible before making his own attempts to re-locate the bird so that I could then travel to Ullapool (possibly with Ken) to attempt to see it from a nearby base but…… . To add further ignominy, as I tonked the car home on the M90, a speed camera flashed me near the Amazon Depot on the outskirts of Dunfermline (although thankfully, no fixed penalty notice subsequently arrived, certainly not to date…).

Again, AAAARGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!! Another disastrous miss.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

So, it was in the context of this disastrous spring that the Turkestan Shrike turned up and both taunted and tempted me. As such, it took me almost three weeks before I finally twitched it!

As it happened, I’d had some dialogue with Viv Hastie as we’d been actioned at the Isle of May Bird Observatory and Field Station Trust ‘gathering’ in Anstruther on the 18th June to commence the roll out of the membermojo online membership platform for members of the Trust. I’d asked Viv about her availability to get together to do this, having had a reminder from membermojo that the trial I had commenced would lapse on the 24th July, and, amongst other things, she had told me she would be going to Bempton on the 27th June to cover for someone else whilst they were on leave as part of her new role tagging Kittiwakes in relation to offshore wind-farm development.

As such, when the shrike was relocated on the 28th June, I immediately let Viv know, and she duly sent me a half-decent digiscoped image of the bird later on… .

For me though, it wasn’t so easy. The events of the past few weeks, in terms of me missing absolutely stonking ‘available’ birds, had completely done for me; I had no enthusiasm for a twitch. This was also partly because it was a long drive from Queensferry to Bempton, and nowadays it wasn’t something I could readily tack onto a visit to my Dads, for instance, as had undoubtedly been the case in other such instances when I had twitched Yorkshire.

To compound things further, irony of ironies, in an instance of déjà vu, Gary, Chris, Steve and I had agreed we fancied taking in the Rugby League Magic Weekend at St. James’s Park in Newcastle on Saturday the 9th July 2022, and so Steve had duly arranged tickets. We were making a full weekend of it, and going out on the ‘toon’ that night, and so, as I had done when I attended Gary’s brother’s Stag weekend in Newcastle earlier in the year, I had arranged return train tickets from Dalmeny to Newcastle. So, although I was half-way to Bempton that weekend, and if I had driven to Newcastle, I could have simply continued beyond to Bempton on the Sunday after our get together ended (or indeed gone on the Friday before and then stayed over in Newcastle), this wasn’t to be…. .

So, I just serially swithered about going, putting it off one way and another, almost willingly it to move on and make my mind up for me. For example, when Viv suggested that she could be available to do the work we had been assigned to do on Monday the 11th July, the day after my lad’s weekend in Newcastle, I’d responded saying that this date sounded good, if I didn’t twitch the shrike.

However, in the end, I decided that we should go ahead with the proposed get together (as Viv was available), and instead I’d go the following day. Clearly, rolling out the membermojo online membership platform was more important than some shrike….. .

Despite the declared intention of going on Tuesday the 12th July, when there was eventually negative news at 08:20, I assumed it had perhaps done the decent thing and buggered off, so I breathed a sigh of relief, and resumed work on a briefing note about the work Viv and I had conducted, only for positive news to eventually come through at 09.26….. .

For the rest of the week, I concentrated on getting good drafts of most of the next Isle of May Bird Observatory newsletter in place. This went well, such that, by the end of the (working?) week I had run out of excuses, and decided that, if it was still there the following day, I would go, come what may.

By now I figured it was too good an opportunity to miss as it was an adult male, and had lingered for days and days. Part of me knew that if I didn’t see it, there wouldn’t be another one available for me, whereas if I did see it, I would undoubtedly bump into one in Shetland the following autumn……. .

So, on Saturday the 16th July I finally made my move……. . Was it a mission involving madness, or a sojourn offering solace? Who knows, but…. .

As is traditional, when I’m getting up early necessitating an alarm to be set, I don’t necessarily sleep too well, and such was the case that morning. I set the alarm for 07:00 but there wasn’t any news for somewhile after that, so I didn’t get up immediately. There was though, positive news by 08:10 by which time I had been up for a good while, so this and the preparation I had done previously meant I was in the car and away soon after 08:30.

It was a long, long drive. I opted for A1(T) and the A19, before skirting Middlesbrough and crossing the North York Moors to Whitby and Scarborough and beyond. The first bit to Tees-side was fine but beyond that, it was tedious, especially in coastal Yorkshire, as it was the weekend, and lovely weather. Anyway, I eventually arrived at 13:45, as it suggested on Google Maps directions, just over 5 hours later.

Once parked in a rather full car-park, I quickly used the (back up) Portaloo facilities in the car-park (well, it had been a long journey!) and then assembled my gear and set off. I’d a rough idea where I was going due to my research, but enquired anyway at the help-desk outside the RSPB Visitor’s Centre. The very rudimentary directions I received involved walking to the coastline, finding the Staple Neuk viewpoint (where the albatross was regularly being seen from) and ask there. I, partly by intuition, made my way to the Staple Neuk viewpoint, and by the time I had reached there, had a good idea where I was going, but I asked someone amongst many people coming along the coastal path towards me if he knew where the shrike was. He confirmed that from the next viewing point at which people were congregated, there was a footpath back inland alongside a field boundary hedge, and there were birders looking at (or for) the bird from a field along that path.

Somehow it had seemed to take a long time to walk there, which I did at some pace, but seemingly it was only a walk of 20 minutes or so. When I arrived, the scene involved a few ‘birders’ standing in a recently mown grass field about 30 or 40 m away from a youngish looking hedge (on the same field boundary along which was the footpath). I joined them, and set up my ‘scope; it seemed that the shrike frequently the hedge and appeared occasionally in two partial gaps, and very occasionally, actually on our side but, given the very strong ‘Sirocco’ type breeze at our backs, was mainly on the opposite side of the hedge (where all the large insects would be).

Suffice to say, that, given this was the third weekend and twentieth day the bird had been there, the assembled audience (which constantly changed but which amounted to eight or so people at any one time) wasn’t exactly cutting edge. It included ‘no binoculars toggers’ (“Where is it, have you got it?”) and professional Yorkshiremen with NO volume control who insisted in talking very loudly, whilst saying nothing of any value (“CAN YOU HEAR ME? I’M FROM CHUFFING YORKSHIRE ME”). Whilst these distractions annoyed me, it has to be said that the sole reason the bird was generally out of sight on the other side of the hedge was because of the wind.

After what seemed like a long wait (but again actually wasn’t) one of the more together of the ensemble quietly gestured that it was visible on the edge of one of the gaps. I moved across towards a point alongside him from which I could see it with the naked eye and quickly managed to get it is the ‘scope.

Although it wasn’t on view for very long, I could see enough of it to know it was an isabelline type shrike, (although admittedly, not necessarily a Turkestan Shrike!); I even began to sketch it, poorly.

Anyway, soon enough it was back out of sight, and although I saw it again briefly with the naked eye flying out from the hedge into the field edge after some prey item, that was it. I could have stayed much longer, and maybe I would have had further brief ‘scope views when it was in the gaps, but it was very apparent that the wind was generally going to keep it out of sight.

So, I left within an hour of arriving on the scene, which might make me sound like some sort of heretic, but this was an entirely pragmatic decision; it was around about 15:20, and I had a five plus hour drive back, and having seen the bird, albeit briefly, I’d done what I set out to do.

I’d got back on the bike (or in the car in this instance) and, shortcomings or not, finally had a successful twitch after the horrors of the past few weeks. I’d proved once again, (admittedly to myself) that major birds being available and me successfully twitching them weren’t two diametrically incompatible concepts; I COULD safely twitch again.

I hadn’t walked far when a RBA message came through on my mobile saying that the Black-browed Albatross was showing at Staple Neuk. This gave me further conviction my decision to leave very promptly was the right one, although when I arrived at Staple Neuk the albatross wasn’t apparent, and it seemed if it had been there, it had only been there briefly. Either that, or it was out of sight and / or the punters there were oblivious.

All the same, I enjoyed the spectacle from the viewpoint briefly; certainly, Bempton Cliffs is a very impressive place.

I then continued on to the café at the visitor centre where, after some confusion as I entered the café queue from the field rather than direct from the car-park, I quickly purchased and consumed a chicken salad sandwich, some fruit cake and a can of dandelion and burdock.

I then departed, and commenced the long (and winding!) drive back. I opted to take a different route from Filey to Malton and thence to the A1(M) and A66 (then the M6, M74, A702, etc.). This I did, although beyond Malton I ended up going to York and then Thirsk rather than straight across to the A1(M). However, again, it was approximately a five-hour journey, lasting from about 16:30 until 21:30.

All in all, I drove about 437 miles in more than 10 hours, all, as suggested, to see a bird for just a very few brief minutes. BUT, like I say, the main thing was simply that I saw it, and in doing so filled a gap created by a modern taxonomic split, AND I successfully twitched a bird. A sojourn offering solace, I’d say?

Potentially, ‘my’ bird it wasn’t even the first Turkestan Shrike for the parish of Bempton, but that has yet to be confirmed. And, another factiod I like is that seemingly this bird was the same one that had previously been seen in the Low Countries.

So, what was the bird like? It was the typical size and shape of a Red-backed or Woodchat Shrike, and was clearly an adult (and apparently an adult male). Overall, it was pale-brown, lighter below and darker above, with an impressive black mask with a wavy outline, and a rufous rump and tail (seen briefly in the ‘scope when it moved from perch to perch). It had somewhat darker remiges and a white patch at the base of the primaries (seen with the naked eye when it chased prey low at the base of the hedge / on the field edge). There was a hint of rufous on the crown. However, the clear white stripe above
the black mask and below the crown was not seen. The bill and legs were black. All in all, a stunning bird, and yes, it’s a shame I didn’t get better views of it. Maybe one in Shetland?

A ‘context’ image, showing the relevant part of the hedge inland of Staple Neuk at Bempton Cliffs on the 16th July 2022.

Gannets at Staple Neuk, Bempton Cliffs on the 16th July 2022.

 

The Turkestan Shrike, exactly how I didn’t see it (Photograph credited to Darren Chapman).

 Daurian Shrike – Durlston Country Park, Swanage, Dorset, 13^th October 1988

Having, presumably, found out about it courtesy of Birdline, I arrived at my old haunt of Durlston Country Park outside Swanage (I’d lived in Swanage from September 1987 until Easter 1988 whilst working on a flowlines project at BP Wytch Farm) on the morning of Thursday the 13th October 1988 intent on seeing the Isabelline (nee Daurian) Shrike asap. It was a tick, after all and / or I was at work on the Purbeck to Southampton Pipeline, after all....... .

However, I was faced by apathy by the Red-backed Shrike spotters there (both Isabelline and Red-backed Shrike were present at the same time) so I located this star bird myself; basically, I found a quite large-looking, slim in shape, pale shrike adjacent to where the Red-backed Shrike was.

From the initial range involved, a dark area behind the eye and faint barring on the breast where the only visible plumage details I noted. However, on getting closer views, much closer views, I could pick out this bird on jizz alone – compared to the Red-backed Shrike it appeared subtly bigger-headed and longer-tailed.

Eventually I got the ‘Whitethroat brown’ tail. This colour merged onto the flanks. The primaries, secondaries and tertials had pale fringes but were otherwise darker than the overall sandy grey-brown upper-parts.

This was back in the days when life was simple and there was ‘just’ Isabelline Shrike in the same way there was, for example ‘just’ Velvet Scoter.

However, at the beginning of 2018 Isabelline Shrike was officially split into three separate species, the two pertinent ones in a British context being Turkestan Shrike (Lanius phoenicuroides) and Daurian Shrike (L. isabellinus ), as had been determined and announced by the British Ornithologist’s Union Records Committee.

So, nearly 30 years after I had seen the bird, I was successful in my attempt to determine whether the Isabelline Shrike seen at Durlston Country Park, Swanage, Dorset on the 13th October 1988 was ever assigned to any 'race'. I established that it was apparently an isabellinus – a Daurian Shrike. 

At the time, I still needed Turkestan Shrike, indeed, subsequent to the one at Durlston Country Park, ‘Isabelline’ Shrike (whether Daurian or Turkestan) had subsequently eluded me. However, I did see the Turkestan Shrike at Bempton in July 2022, thankfully.

Photographs of both the Isabelline Shrike (that became Daurian Shrike!) and the Red-backed Shrike that was also at Durlston Country Park, Swanage, Dorset at the same time, October 1988 (photographs credited to David Cotteridge).

Lesser Crested Tern – Beacon Lane, Spurn, East Yorkshire, 18^th June 1993

Wow!!! At last, this one succumbs, and so easily, after all that had gone before, I finally saw this bird, this long-awaited bird, in the most amazingly fortuitous circumstances. Realising that this bird (which had frustrated me more often than any other) had not settled in the Farnes this summer, I travelled for six hours from South Queensferry to Spurn in my little AMEC Ford Escort van on Friday the 18th June 1993. A fraught journey it was too, particularly during my refuelling stop (I think I got frustrated trying to navigate my way out of the service station at Ferrybridge Services and ended up grounding the van over a very high kerb). I had departed from work at 13:35 and arrived at 18:35, to be greeted by Sandwich Terns flying south from Beacon Ponds over the Blue Bell. Aaargh!!!!! They were flying back out to the outer estuary having been roosting at the ponds.

I hurriedly assembled my gear and started off along Beacon Lane. Some birders were coming back from the ponds and suggested it had flown off earlier but might have returned. I rushed on. The next birder I bumped into was looking for a Common Rosefinch and repeated the story. As we chatted Sandwich Terns were flying past. I raised my bins, and continuing my lucky streak, the first bird I binned was it!!! All within six minutes of arrival...... !

I fluked a very good fly past view in excellent evening sunlight. It was about 30m or 40m up and initially at least 100m away. I suppose it was in view for a minute or so, initially directly alongside us, but then quickly disappearing towards the Point.

Unfortunately, (particularly as a 05:00 rise was called for) it was not connected with the following morning, so reverting to its previous frustrating behaviour.

So, any description relates to flight views only. It superficially resembled a Sandwich Tern (and sounded like one!) apart from the yolk yellow bill. The black cap looked similar in extent as well. As it disappeared away from us a whiter panel in the inner upper-wing was apparent.

I caught up with ‘Elsie’ (L. C., geddit?) again on Inner Farne the following summer (and with a hybrid offspring!) at Musselburgh at the time of the Western Sandpiper in August 1997.

Lesser Crested Tern, Beacon Ponds, Spurn, East Yorkshire, June 1993 (photograph credited to unknown).

Ross’s Goose – Cockerham Marsh, Cockerham, Lancashire, 10^th March 2003

During the years either side of the millennium life got very hectic. Albeit it briefly, the oil and gas pipeline phase of my career took me to Lima and Peru in 1998, to San Francisco in California in the United States of America (although the project itself was in the Caspian region of Central Asia) in 2000 and Ankara and Turkey in 2001. There were some projects in-between times closer to home, which was perhaps just as well, as I had got married in July 1997 and my first daughter arrived in October 1998, followed by the second (and last!) in May 2000.

By this time, or certainly once I had a young family, it was evident that I needed to re-invent myself to enable me to work closer to, or indeed, at, home.

Something had to give, and indeed, it did. But that’s another story.

Working away, being married, and becoming a father, didn’t leave much time for much else, and birding stagnated, to a large extent.

Thus, in 1996 I had 14 new birds for my British list, and the following year I had 7. However, in 1998 I had none, and only managed 4, 3, 1 and 4 in 1999, 2000, 2001 and 2002 respectively.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have had it any other way, and whether or not I was constrained by family life, I still saw some very good birds including Royal Tern and Short-billed Dowitcher in 1999, Eastern Olivaceous Warbler and Long-tailed Shrike in 2000 and Snowy Egret in 2001. Two of the latter three where seen with Ellen, my eldest child along with me.

However, often I had to make do with what was readily available. Thus, when, Gillian, my ex- and our daughters were travelling back from East Lancashire to South Queensferry on Monday the 10th of March 2004, for example, I somehow managed to convince Gillian that a diversion via Cockerham in North Lancashire was a good idea.

There had been a Ross’s Goose in the area for a good while (since the 4th February it would seem). So, even though Ross’s Goose wasn’t a tickable ‘thing’ at the time, the availability of one at Pilling Marsh seemed to me (at least) a suitable investment, as it was a potential armchair tick.

I / we duly saw it, but, given its status at the time, my notes are limited to the very basic facts (date, place, species present..... ). No detailed description was considered necessary, clearly.

So, I’ll not dream up a description of any sort here, other than for the fact that I saw a Ross’s Goose which clearly wasn’t a (Greater or Lesser) Snow Goose. This reminds me of birding in the Central Valley of California when I worked in San Francisco with a birder I had met there. He and I arrived somewhere where there was a huge flock of apparent Snow Geese in front of us, and started going through it, trying to pick out any Ross’s Geese. Very quickly this proved all too easy, and it slowly dawned on us that we were looking at a huge flock of Ross’s Geese and should instead be trying to pick out any Snow Geese……!

Just over a year I after the Pilling Marsh bird I saw another at Vane Farm in April 2004 in the company of Stuart Green ………

Moving swiftly on, when, finally, many years later, on the 29th November 2021, the British Ornithologists’ Union Records Committee announced that it considered there were proven records of Ross’s Goose as a species occurring naturally in its’ own right (rather than just fence-hopping) the Cockerham bird proved to be my first such record.

Specifically, it was accepted as follows:

2003 Lancashire & North Merseyside Eagland Hill, Pilling and Thurnham, 3CY+, 4th February to 17th March; presumed same as 2002 Norfolk.

(C. Holt, P. French and the Rarities Committee, British Birds 112: 622; L. Bacon, P. French and the Rarities Committee, British Birds 117: 671-672).

Ross’s Goose (same bird) at Moss Edge, Cockerham, Lancashire, 23rd February 2003 (photograph credited to Paul Ellis).

Cackling Goose – near Cleish, Perth and Kinross, 10^th April 1994

During the autumn 1993 to autumn 1996 period, I was working on the Scotland to Northern Ireland Pipeline Project in Dumfries and Galloway (with visits to County Antrim) and commuting home to South Queensferry most weekends.

During winter, a quick jaunt across the Forth Road Bridge to Vane Farm was an occasional weekend trip for some birding – not too far, but with the chance of some good birding. In doing so there was the chance of some wildfowl interest..... .

On Sunday the 10th April 1994, for example, there as a Snow Goose close by near Cleish. There was also a ‘small race’ Canada Goose there.

When, finally, in 2016, British Ornithologists’ Union Records Committee opted to accept records of Lesser Canada / Cackling Goose as a species in its’ own right (Branta hutchinsi) this proved to be my first such record.

As ever, in such instances, my notes are limited to the very basic facts (date, place, species present..... ). No detailed description was considered necessary, clearly.

So, I’ll not dream up a description of any sort here, other than for the fact that I saw a Canada Goose which clearly wasn’t a (Greater) Canada Goose.

I later saw a Todd’s Canada Goose at Cornabus on Islay in early April 2018. This was distinctively smaller and darker than Greater Canada Goose. Oh, and what was deemed to be a 'hybrid' small race Canada Goose on south Mainland Shetland in October 2015 soon after seeing a Lesser White-fronted Goose from the Swedish reintroduction programme, but now we are plumbing the depths of dubious wildfowl, so I'll stop right there.

Unfortunately, at this remove there is little searchable material on the Cleish bird, and, indeed, it doesn't appear in the list of records accepted by BBRC. As such, illustrating the same, either with one of my dodgy pictures or an image of it, or something very similar, is fraught, as I cannot be sure just what race it was. Still, that make for one less drawing.... .

 Baikal Teal – Crossens Outer Marsh, Southport, Merseyside, 4^th December 2013

Sketches of the Baikal Teal at Crossens Outer Marsh, attempting to capture the wacky head pattern (strangely reminiscent of Red-breasted Goose and even summer-plumage Wilson's Phalarope).

Another twitch! And, more to the point, a successful one. (By way of context, for a whole host of reasons, by the 2000s and 2010s – if not a few years before – my twitching activities had slowed, and typically I was only seeing two or three new species each year. However, there were brief flurries involving more such activities; in both 2004 and 2005 I had upped the number of new species to a heady five, and during the last few months of 2013 I twitched the Mourning Dove on Rhum a month or so before this twitch, and the Brunnich’s Guillemot in Portland Harbour less than a month after it).

Anyway. Where were we? Although busy with work (I was in my ‘providing ecological and ornithological support to single wind turbine applications’ phase!) I had a few days my father’s in Chesterfield at the end of November / start of December 2013.

During the course of this, on Saturday the 30th November, an adult male Baikal Teal was found at Marshside RSPB Reserve, near Southport in Merseyside (or Lancashire, in old money!) but there were conspiracy theories about an apparent hybrid duck ‘showing characteristics of Baikal Teal and Teal’ at the same site in the days previous. There was also the small matter of the hitherto presumed escape Ross’s Goose there...... .

The initial photographs and views on the 1st December helped to allay initial fears as to the bird’s genetic purity; the bird looked good, after all, for Britain’s fifth Baikal Teal and helpfully it was hanging out with Wigeon and Teal and trying to look wild.

As such, it was, when all was said and done, un-ringed, fully-winged, had no signs of hybridisation, had arrived at a ‘good’ time of year, and behaved like a wild bird.

Therefore, when I travelled home from Dad’s on Wednesday the 4th December, I did so via Crossens Outer Marsh and the Baikal Teal. Obviously.

Once there I parked up on Banks Road and walked from there out onto the seawall on Crossens Marsh. Here I bumped into Ken Shaw and John Nadin who were twitching it from Scotland. I also chatted to Chris Tynan, of the Sefton Ranger Service managed by my good mate Dave McAleavy, who was skiving off to see the bird.

Anyway, the Baikal Teal was showing reasonably well amongst the other ducks out on the marsh, although it later moved and I then saw it better from the Marine Drive, having returned to my car, and then mounted the kerb and parked on the pavement alongside the road so that I could get better views before continuing home to Edinburgh.

I sketched it in my notebook, and captioned the sketch ‘a lot going on’; it had a very complicated plumage which is difficult to describe. However, here goes. It had a complex head pattern which involved black area around the eye. A thin whitish line curved down the lower face from the rear of the eye patch and in doing so separated areas of buffy-yellow on the lower cheek and lores. The rear of the cheek and the area behind and above the eye was dull green, and again a very thin black line separated this from the adjacent yellow, whilst a very thin white line fringed the edge of the green on the neck. There was a thin white line between the green and the yellow and the dark brown crown. The upper breast was pinky-brown and the lower breast and flanks were grey, with a ‘Green-winged Teal’ white line and a less obvious white line between the flanks and the under-tail coverts. The under-tail coverts were black and the tail was grey-brown with orangey outer tail feathers. The back and wings were grey-brown with long mid-brown ‘aigrettes’ which were dark-centred. 

Phew! Incredible looking (and sounding!!!); and this was the ‘suppressed’ first-winter male version!

Baikal Teal at Crossens Outer Marsh, Southport, Merseyside, December 2013 (photograph credited to John Nadin).

Green Heron – Red Wharf Bay, Anglesey, 16^th November 2005

Later on on Wednesday the 16th November 2005 (having already duly banged in the Black Scoter at Llanfairfechan, as described in an earlier post https://collapsedbirder.blogspot.com/2023/06/black-scoter-off-llanfairfechan-gwynedd.html ) it was urgently back to the car and onwards to hopefully make it a two-bird day by doing the same with the Green Heron at Red Wharf Bay on Anglesey.

This had turned up there on Monday the 7th November 2005 (although it had probably been around for at least eight days before it was first reported). It had also been proven that this bird was the same one that had previously been seen at Schull in County Cork, Ireland between the 11th and 13th October 2005.

Time was of the essence; it was mid-November and so days were short and it was already reasonably late in the afternoon. I also had to get back to somewhere appropriate before Gary, Chris, Steve and I met up to go to Cologne for the weekend.

I managed to navigate and drive my way from Llanfairfechan to Red Wharf Bay without too many problems. On arrival I then managed to find the appropriate place to park. Then all I had to do was locate the bird, somewhere out in the salt-marsh creeks.

Again recollections beyond the very basic are minimal to say the least. Like at Llanfairfechan I think I was well and truly on my own, at least in terms of other birders. There may have been one or two but I really cannot remember. However, I think I can vaguely remember that there were locals walking and dog-walking alongside the salt-marshes and it just might have been the case that they shared their own inside information; the bird had been around for a considerable while by then and was something of a local cause celebre. I also dimly remember that I may not have had on the most appropriate footwear for the circumstances – I probably hadn’t considered it a priority to change my shoes, although these weren’t necessarily the best for tramping around the salt-marshes.

Whatever, I reasonably quickly and easily located the bird and spent some while following it (or attempting to get ahead of it to take photographs, as it was surprisingly close in the salt-marsh creeks). It moved very quickly though, so it wasn’t easily to keep up with (or take photographs of!).

I did so reasonably successfully though.

It was a small heron with a large bill. The upper-parts were mainly a dark browny-green with hints of iridescence. The cap was dark and separated from the back and wings by a rufous collar. The under-parts were a rufous (brick) red especially on the side of the neck and the upper breast, which was streaked with pale lines. The lower breast was white and streaked with rufous lines. The coverts had pale fringes. The bill was mainly dark grey although the lower part of the lower mandible was orange. The legs were greeny-yellow.

Seemingly, this bird was again (like the Black Scoter) the sixth individual ever to be recorded (although this includes a record from 1889 and a bird that was seen on both Jersey and Guernsey in the Channel Islands). In a curious way, it was long-term redemption; just months after I graduated from the University of Hull in 1982 just the second ever Green Heron turned up at Stone Creek in Holderness in late-November, but at the time I had just no idea about rare birds and quickly getting news about (and twitching) them. In some ways I regret never being part of the whole Nancy’s grapevine thing. As such, it wasn’t until the advent of Birdline in the 1980s that I could readily access such information. And then it was a downhill slope, as evidenced by these tales!

Green Heron, Red Wharf Bay, Anglesey, 2005 (photograph credited to Steve Young).