Terek Sandpiper – Stanpit Marsh Local Nature Reserve, Christchurch Harbour, Christchurch, Dorset, 16^th July 1988

Whilst I was working in Dorset and Hampshire in 1988, Birdline conveniently notified me of this goodie at the handy Stanpit Marsh on the outskirts of Christchurch, and so it was off there I went from work on the Purbeck to Southampton Pipeline on the morning of Saturday the 16th July after ‘notifying others’ (whatever that means from a distance of 36.5 years later....).

I arrived at Stanpit Marshes to be rewarded with views of this bird feeding on the margins of the islands in Christchurch Harbour, and also flying closer, alighting briefly in front of us. Good views of a good bird.

It had grey-white under-parts and grey brown upper-parts with a diagnostic black line on the scapulars. It had a long, stout, slightly upturned dark bill and medium length stout orangey-yellow legs. In flight it had a grey rump, and a paler trailing edge (and a darker leading edge to the primaries, etc.), to the wing.

Subsequently I saw the one at Kitty Brewster on the Blyth Estuary in November 1989, although it may have been later, as presumably the same bird was then there and / or nearby from January 1990 until January 1991.

Finally, and incidental to all of this, one of the accompanying images was taken by Martin Reid, who was then a birder based in Dorset. Move on less than four years, and it was Martin, having moved to Texas, who provided the excellent image of the Wandering Tattler (a first for Texas) Mike Thompson and I found at Galveston, which accompanied the description we submitted to the Texas Bird Records Committee of the Texas Ornithological Society. Small world indeed!!

Terek Sandpiper, Stanpit Marsh, Christchurch Harbour, Dorset, July 1988 (photograph credited to Martin Reid).

Terek Sandpiper, Stanpit Marsh, Christchurch Harbour, Dorset, July 1988 (photograph credited to David Cotteridge).

Siberian Accentor – Mossy Hill, near Scousburgh, South Mainland, Shetland, 10^th October 2016

So....... . October 2016. We had been in Shetland for just over a week, during which we had seen plenty, including Paddyfield Warbler, Arctic Redpoll, Siberian Thrush and White’s Thrush on Unst, and Swainson’s Thrush on Fetlar and Brown Shrike on North Mainland (and that was only the real highlights).

Saturday the 8th October involved a change of crews – in effect, we were losing Jonny Holiday and Chris Pendlebury and gaining Paul Collin and Dennis Weir.

This involved someone driving from our excellent Noosthamar (Shetland Nature Lodge) accommodation to Sumburgh and back; given that there was a potential tick for him nearby and there were new allies to make, John Nadin (until now completely reluctant to drive) volunteered.

No surprise, then, when the next day, John again commandeered the driving of the vehicle so he could influence just where we were going..... .

Amongst other things the partial change of crews meant we no longer had the instantaneous bird news updates from Twitter that Jonny and Chris provided. It was not yet clear what news sources Paul and Dennis used. As such, given that Ken had sent his RBA pager off for repair prior to the trip and then managed to drop his mobile down the toilet at the appropriately named Final Checkout shop and garage, so completely incapacitating it and the RBA app. it included, we were now even more dependent on the news updates I was able to provide; oh, and those that John was also able to provide on an erratic / eccentric basis...... .

Therefore, keeping in touch at all times was going to be even more important.

That morning, we visited the plantation near Baltasound Middle School, for old times’ sake maybe (this being where we had found the White’s Thrush the previous October). To further the nostalgia I once again thrashed through the under-storey of the stunted Sitka spruce. In doing so I managed to lose a contact lens as a branch whipped back against my face. As such, I was reduced to a one-eyed birder, which was completely rubbish.

Later, when we all returned to Noosthamar for late lunch, I was still very much less than impressed with my ill-luck, and so, after eating, without saying anything to anyone, walked up the hill to ensure I had ‘mobile reception and commence the tedious and tortuous process of struggling to locate the right number to ‘phone Boots Opticians at The Gyle in Edinburgh and then cope with the interminable ‘press x for...’ options, and manage to convey the predicament I was in and (hopefully) arrange for a new lens to be manufactured, supplied and posted out to me, so that I would have it when we briefly called in to my flat in Edinburgh en route between Shetland and the Scillies.

All a very fraught process, taking way longer than was anticipated, or desired.

As such, when the team bus suddenly appeared coming up the hill, being driven by John and loaded up with the rest of the crew, I only briefly chatted to them as they pulled up, before I simply waved them on.

Once I had finally completed my call I walked back down to Noosthamar, I casually checked Facebook. It was by this means that I was first alerted to the presence of the first Siberian Accentor for the British Isles on South Mainland Shetland..... . 

WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAATTTTTTTT????????

The news had seemingly just broken. I was already half way back down the hill to the house. I was also in a daze.

I continued back into our place and in doing so opted to use the landline there to try to contact the crew. I ‘phoned each of Amanda (as Ken ‘I have dropped my mobile down the toilet’ Shaw’s proxy), John, Paul and Dennis. In each instance, it either rang and went to voice-mail or just went to voice-mail, respectively, so I left the same basic message; “I am not sure you will get this voice-mail, but there is a Siberian Accentor on South Mainland and you need to come back to the Nature Lodge now.......!!!” Aaaargh! In desperation, I also rang Brydon Thomasson and left the same message.

Ken and Amanda had opted to walk to the Shore Station at Burrafirth, and indeed, in my dazed state I had seen them walking along the road at the head of Burrafirth towards there. But soon after two cars had travelled away from the Hermaness car-park. I could no longer see Ken and Amanda. Had they got a lift from passing birders? Was I in danger of being left behind???

I decided to set off walking to at least get out there and get mobile reception again, just in case they were trying to ‘phone me. Indeed, as I got back into reception, I got a voice-mail from Amanda telling me she had indeed got my voice-mail and they were walking back. Amusingly (or as amusingly so as was permissible in the circumstances), half way through the message, Ken had seemingly grabbed the ‘phone off her thinking she was actually speaking to me, and started shouting excitedly down the ‘phone, only for Amanda to try to explain to him she was not actually speaking to me....... .

Anyway, I walked towards the Noosthamar junction, and in doing so, intercepted Amanda coming the other way. She, in effect, told me that Ken had sent her back to base as the twitch had the potential to be, “Less than pretty”. Meanwhile, he was walking towards Haroldswick in the forlorn hope that John, Paul and Dennis would be rushing back to collect us and whisk us south for our appointment with this stonking first for Britain and Ireland on South Mainland.

I decided it would be best if Amanda and I followed Ken, and we did so, walking down to the Noosthamar junction, and then towards Haroldswick in his wake. Several times I bellowed, “Ken”, in his direction, but sadly, I am no Ken, and he didn’t hear me.

Eventually, though, he realised we were following him, having reached the Haroldswick junction and turned around, desperately wondering where the hell they were.

We quickly exchanged our stories and then decided we had no real option but to set off back. This we did, but even so, getting back long, long before they finally did.

By the time they did arrive back it was late afternoon. It quickly emerged (under interrogation 😊) that each of John, Paul and Dennis had left their mobiles on charge at base camp....... .

So, in effect, John had finally got my voice-mail only once he had finally returned..... .

With massively commendable restraint Ken and I pointed out the error of his ways to John. If he was going to commandeer (the responsibility of driving) the vehicle, certain basic responsibilities, like being in constant touch with the other crew members, came with it!!!!!!!

Typically, John flailed around and suggested, “What about them?” i.e., that he was only as culpable as Paul and Dennis. Ken and I managed not to over-react to this; basically John, one way, or the other, was the ‘senior’ member of the crew involved, having been on Unst for more than a week rather than just a day, and should have know better.

That said, we were all equally culpable in some ways – circumstances had really conspired against us what with Ken not having either his pager or his mobile and RBA app, me losing my contact lens and opting out of the afternoons' activities (so leaving the crew without their usual ‘go-to’ info source after they had set off, even if they had realised the consequences) and each of John, Paul and Dennis making the potentially fatal error of assuming mobile ‘phones were an optional extra.

It could have all ended in some very serious tears; when the news broke we could probably have still made it all the way to South Mainland in time to see it, albeit that it might have involved rubbish views in failing light. However, such views would have been better than no views at all if the bird wasn’t there the next day. After all, this was an unprecedented first for Britain and Ireland.

What followed was a fraught night; John later admitted he was feeling terrible, given that we might all miss out on this mega mega.

The following morning we departed early and successfully caught early ferries from Unst to Yell and from Yell to North Mainland.

Given the circumstances the journey went very serenely – largely thanks to Paul’s excellent driving, oh, and the positive news we got relatively early on during the journey, plus my interpreting of the RBA directions, although we did take on wrong turn when searching out the summit of Mossy Hill, as directed. However, this was a minor error, and we quickly recovered our way, and followed the correct (and marshalled!) route to the small quarries in the hillside, alongside which were some 16 vehicles and 50 or so birders.

There then followed a comparatively relaxed hour or so at the twitch with the bird generally on show as it grubbed around the rock debris and vegetation that covered the floor of the quarry. Encumbered by wearing my glasses and feeling very unsteady on my feet, I opted to take up a position looking down into the quarry from the top of one of the banks alongside side it; the quarries had been hewn into the side of the hill and the road ran diagonally along the slope at a gentle incline. Birders were in position at the entrance to the quarry and along the top of the lower bank.

From the latter location I had epic views of an epic bird which showed really well down to a few metres; a ‘scope really was optional.

In circumstances strangely / predictably reminiscent of watching a Radde’s Accentor in cool morning light on a mountainside near Demirkazik in Turkey (albeit that was a bird singing atop a scrubby bush as opposed to grubbing around a scruffy quarry) I thrilled at the scene before me. A ‘monstrous’ accentor doing its thing metres away, disappearing and reappearing amongst the rock jumble, feeding unobtrusively away, largely unconcerned by the crowds of birders metres away (apart from occasionally when the cacophony of shutters firing off shots sounded like mini-machine guns when it really performed!).

In typical accentor fashion it grubbed about feeding, memorably, at one stage, tossing leaf litter over its shoulder in a feeding action reminiscent of Turnstone.

My sketch notes made at the time suggested it was like ‘a robust Dunnock with a Shorelark head’ and it had a buffy yellow throat and supercilium, a black ‘robber’s mask’ black cap, grey hind neck and a rich brown and streaked back. I also noted it had a strong dark bill.

Siberian Accentor near Scousburgh, South Mainland, Shetland, October 2016 (photograph credited to John Nadin).

We took it in for an hour or so, then (leaving John ‘papping’ it) we went away to get some much-deserved breakfast at the airport (and, as a bonus, twitch a Buff-breasted Sandpiper from the roadside near Boddam} before returning for John, by which time it had moved to the next quarry further up the road.

All’s well that ends well, as they say. And, as I like to say, we had seen this bird when it was extremely rare, when it was a first for Britain, unlike a lot of ‘Jonny-come-latelies’. (Sorry Jonny; having left Shetland just before this mega of megas broke, fantastically, Jonny Holliday was able to catch up with the one at Spurn...... ).

Totally chilled Siberian Accentor twitchers (n.b., after the event), October 2016 (photograph credited to John Nadin).