Caspian Tern – Stanpit Marsh Local Nature Reserve, Christchurch Harbour, Christchurch, Dorset, 16^th June 1988

Unfortunately, again, contemporaneous notes are somewhat lacking in this instance. However, the bird in question was seen on both Thursday the 16th and Friday 17th June when, at least on the latter date, I would have been conveniently passing by as part of my work on the Purbeck to Southampton Pipeline Project..... . or something like that. Obviously. 

Shamefully, I can remember little about the bird. 

Even more shamefully, I can remember even less about my initial twitch on (I think) Thursday the 16th June. 

However, Alison Downs (nee Bunting), who was my girlfriend when I was working on the Purbeck to Southampton Pipeline project in Dorset and Hampshire, is always keen to tell me that, when the news broke, we were apparently just on our way off out for a meal. As such, seemingly she was dressed in high-heeled boots, and a purple Christian Dior knitted skirt with a long pearl necklace. Quite a look to be rocking at a twitch on the saltmarshes around of Christchurch Harbour. Meanwhile, clearly, I was just the scruffy bloke with her.

Sadly, there are no photographs to illustrate this account, neither of Alison all glammed up, nor of the Caspian Tern. It was a long time ago, after all.

Although I don't remember the details that Alison is always so keen to remind me of, I do remember that the bird frequented the mudflats of the harbour and was seen both resting on and flying over them. It was clearly a large tern approaching the size of Herring Gull with a black cap, forked tail and heavy, bright orange-red bill. It was highly distinctive from a distance, as a large grey and white, black-capped, orange-billed tern.

Many, many years later (28, in fact) in July 2016, I saw a well-travelled one-day bird at Carr Vale Derbyshire Wildlife Trust Nature Reserve, whilst visiting my father in Chesterfield. Carr Vale was the scene of walks with the girls and their grandad when they were young and, subsequently, a place where I did various bird surveys whilst working on the ill-fated leg of the HS2 Project in Derbyshire and Yorkshire. 

In lieu of a photograph of the June 1988 Alison Bunting or Stanpit Marsh Caspian Tern, I managed to locate a photograph of the July 2016 Carr Vale Caspian Tern.

Caspian Tern, Carr Vale, Derbyshire, July 2016 (photograph credited to Peter Gerrity).

Lesser White-fronted Goose – Slimbridge Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust Reserve, Slimbridge, Gloucestershire, 24^th January 1988

On Sunday the 24th January, whilst on a twitch from Swanage in Dorset, where I was living whilst working at the BP Wytch Farm Project, and having seen what was probably a dodgy golden plover (as opposed to a Pacific Golden Plover) I continued on to Slimbridge Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust reserve. Now, this wasn’t just to visit another (or more accurately the very first and best) Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust reserve, I was on a mission.

Slimbridge (routinely?) had a vagrant wintering Lesser White-fronted Goose during some of most winters at this time*. So, whilst it was interesting to see Slimbridge itself (I likened it to a mature Martin Mere!) it was the goose I was after.

Having made my way to the crammed hides, I joined others working my way through the feeding flocks of (Russian) White-fronted Geese ad nauseum. This didn’t seem too promising, and it was also very annoying due to the presence of the youth wing of the movement.

However, salvation was eventually found in the form of the Lesser White-fronted Goose in front of another of the hides in the row.

Once in the hide it was just that – right in front – literally the closest bird! So (even though I had them around my feet on my way back through the collection) I got really close views, only a few hundred metres away! It was distinctly smaller than the host (Russian) White-fronted Geese, with a shorter (and as such seemingly thicker?) neck, and a high crown / forehead, noticeably shorter deep-based conical bill, with a darker head and neck, and a yellow orbital ring. As it was a first-winter bird, there was only a hint of a white ‘shield’ and no (strong) barring on the belly.

Many, many years later, courtesy of the finder, Mark Wilkinson, I saw another at Quendale, on South Mainland Shetland, in early October 2015. However, this was a somewhat plastic bird which was the offspring of wild-caught Russian birds, which had been released in Swedish Lapland on 8th July as part of the National Swedish Action Plan for the species’ recovery. Although it had clearly made it across the North Sea, it was more like to birds in the collection – it was very approachable, and as such not very credible.

* Whilst researching for this write-up, I discovered that the bird I saw was perhaps the last of the generally annual records of this species at Slimbridge. I also discovered that Sir Peter Scott had actually established Slimbridge precisely because he had discovered that the area was a regular wintering site for very small numbers of the species, having found the first record there in December 1945 (50% of all UK Lesser White-fronted Goose records are from Slimbridge). Further, the creation of Slimbridge led to the BBC Wildlife Unit being based in nearby Bristol.

A subsequent first-winter Lesser White-fronted Goose at Slimbridge WWT, Gloucestershire in 2003 (photograph credited to Paul Marshall).

 Western Black-eared Wheatear –Stiffkey, Norfolk, 30^th October 1993

A long-staying Black-eared Wheatear........ ? Eh? Is there such a thing? * 

Too good to miss says I.

So I travelled from my new job working on the Scotland to Northern Ireland Pipeline Project in Newton Stewart in Galloway to Leigh in Greater Manchester, on Friday the 29th October. Another twitch with Paul Pugh was in the offing.

At 06:00 the following morning we (Paul Pugh, Neil Tasker and I) were on our way to our appointment with a real blocker. After a run-in with a tractor and trailer en route we made it by c.09:30 – good going. The rest was equally easy – we parked up, walked along the shore path and then inland to the pig farm and (after a minor panic as it moved around as we arrived) the bird.

This proceeded to show well, firstly around the field beyond the pig farm, and then secondly, and memorably, around the pig farm itself.

It was a small(ish) wheatear – a pied-type. It was broadly similar in appearance to a female-type Northern Wheatear but was compact looking. Its plumage was pale and it had a orangey flush on the breast, and a wheatear tail pattern which involved a white rump with a narrow black tail band T which extended along the edges of the tail.

We made the most of our trip to North Norfolk by taking in a very confiding Olive-backed Pipit at Holkham Pines, before driving back to Wigan. En route, as we reached the A1, the pager alerted us to a Red-flanked Bluetail at Winspit in Dorset, but that was another story.

Subsequently, this bird become a Western Black-eared Wheatear....... .

* In researching this post, I came across a quote by Alan Tate, the rare bird photographer in which he noted, when referring to Black-eared Wheatear, "Until this record, the most notorious of species for never staying for a second day. I once met a birder who had twitched fourteen and not seen one! This popular October bird in Norfolk bucked the trend and stayed nine days, showing very well to a constant stream of admirers”. All the more amazing then, that we unblocked the even more enigmatic Red-flanked Bluetail the following day.

Black-eared Wheatear, Stiffkey, Norfolk, October 1993 (both photographs attributed to unknown).

Red-rumped Swallow – Corfe Mullen, Dorset, 20^th July 1988

Mr Harry Lovell’s Amazing Performing Red-rumped Swallow!!!

An attempt to capture the bird as it was when first seen in the gloaming on the late evening of the 20th July.

One evening (that of Wednesday the 20th July to be exact), whilst I was at ‘home’ in the flat I was renting in Westcliffe, Bournemouth (having moved there from Swanage via a temporary stay in Poole whilst working on the Purbeck to Southampton Pipeline) I received a ‘phone call from Paul Pugh about a Red-rumped Swallow in Dorset.

It transpired that there had briefly been a message on Birdline about an apparently breeding bird somewhere in the county, before the message was deleted (presumably as it related to a breeding bird....).

Obviously, given she was an office holder of the New Dorset Bird Club (she was the Membership Secretary) I immediately ‘phoned Alison, my then girlfriend, and prevailed upon her. She was tasked with finding out all she could..... . Suitably intimidated into action, she ‘phoned George Green, the Chairman of the New Dorset Bird Club (I was never quite sure what happened to the old club....).

Anyway, the girl done good, and so we rushed, as late as it was, to Corfe Mullen, me collecting Alison from Merley en route. Why? Well, it transpired that this is where the bird was; we found our way to a large estate house near a road junction just off the A31.

Once parked up, we joined others (a few others) at the entrance to the drive of the house from where the bird could be seen roosting on some wires. Amazing!!!

Views that evening were not helped by the fading light, but at least the bird was perched.

However, the next day (obviously, given I was working on the pipeline and out on site all day everyday!) I returned. Once again, I waited at the entrance to the drive, but this time, the owner of the house, Mr. Harry Lovell, invited me in to the driveway and provided me with a chair and a cup of tea! In these perfect conditions I waited for perfect views, but, unfortunately, I was probably sitting too close, as although the bird circled around and around, it only visited the nest (it was, in fact, ‘assisting’ at an active House Martin nest) once. (I think Mr. Harry Lovell was lonely, and once he had got over his concerns about lots of people descending on him to see his bird, he quite liked the attention that it, and therefore he, got).

I returned on many other occasions to watch this amazing bird (it was fantastic escape from the pressures of working on the pipeline).

Compared to a swallow it could be picked out by the subtly broader, blunter wings and thicker tail streamers (which had a tuning fork -like configuration). It was distinctive in flight – circling high and relatively slowly? It had an orangey-buff rump, and similarly colour nape and supercilium, with pale under-parts and dark metallic blue back and crown, and blackish wings and tail. It had a distinctive ‘chewick’ call.

Subsequently I saw one at Stodmarsh in Kent in April 1990 and others at Spurn and on St Mary’s.. .

Clearly one of my photographs, but even in this poor image the distinctive 'jizz' of the species when in flight is apparent.

The house of Mr Harry Lovell showing the House Martin nest that the Red-rumped Swallow was assisting at.

Red-rumped Swallow, Corfe Mullen, Dorset, July 1988 (photograph credited to unknown).

 Nutcracker – Cocknage Wood, near Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, 18^th October 1991

Perhaps I should have long weekends more often?

It was autumn 1991, and I had spent the preceding months working on the construction of the Shell North West Ethylene Pipeline in Lancashire and Cheshire, based at offices in Preston and staying at my Auntie’s in Lytham during the week, and at my friend Carol Carrington’s at the weekends. And very full on it was (I invoiced for 168 hours in a fortnight in the most intensive phase). As such, I rarely had the opportunity to visit St. Albans, where I still nominally lived.

However, on this particular occasion, I had managed to get a flyer on the Friday afternoon to get my weekend in St. Albans off to a good start. Better, I ‘phoned Birdline and was advised that there was a Nutcracker at Cocknage Wood, near Stoke-on-Trent in Staffordshire (it had been there since the 15th October, perhaps betraying that there was little time or purpose in me ‘phoning Birdline earlier during the working week?). All the same, this was now very convenient, given I would soon be passing on the M6.

Oh, that they were always that easy! Once there (oh, that it was that easy!) I was rewarded with excellent if intermittent views of a Nutcracker as it gambolled across the back lawn of a large house like an outsized demented Starling, fly-catching.

It was dark brown overall, with intricate white flecking and white under-tail coverts. There was less white flecking on the remiges, crown, etc., and the bill was stout and pointed.

The scene of the corvid.....

Nutcracker, Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, October 1991 (photograph credited to unknown).

https://youtu.be/eov8LBDSUi0 Nutcracker video (video credited to Alan Shaw).

Pine Grosbeak – Lerwick, Mainland Shetland, 4^th April 1992

In early 1992 I commenced working on a project based in the South Queensferry area, and so, a very short time after travelling solo in Morocco for three weeks over Christmas / New Year 1991/1992, I was working and living in South Queensferry.

News of a Pine Grosbeak in Lerwick broke on around Wednesday the 25th March 1992, but, having already committed to a trip back to St. Albans that weekend, I was unable to twitch early, so I spent an anxious week or more monitoring Birdline for news. A combination of howling north-east winds and an apparently ailing bird made for an even more anxious interlude.

However, being now able to be in Aberdeen from South Queensferry within about two hours I was able to strike. There was a shortage of information on Thursday the 2nd April, but eventually there was positive news on the Friday afternoon, and so I dashed to Aberdeen in time for the 18:00 ferry along with a few other birders, who included Bernie Beck and Paul Harvey...... (this was an interesting ‘meeting’ of minds as I don’t think Paul had ever met anyone quite like Bernie, and Paul was a Leeds United fan and Bernie a Manchester United fan and it was towards the end of the 1991/1992 season: enough said).

Unfortunately, the crossing was sufficiently rough to make me retire to my bunk early, so missing the craich, but fortunately I was a well man once I got to bed. So I got up well-refreshed and once we arrived in Lerwick I made my way to the supposed venue, a combination of gardens, a copse and back roads. But only a few spruces......... .

But no sign. We were on site at 08:10 and I had hardly eaten in 36 hours, so I wandered off to a shop by way of a bowling green, where other birders were, or weren’t..... . Mildly panicked, I was rescued by the original finder of the bird (Father Barry) who promptly chauffeured me back to the original scene. Here the object of my quest was now showing well (and probably always had been) as in demolished vast amounts of hawthorn buds whilst clambering around in the hawthorn.

Agent Orange! It was a large cumbersome finch clambering through the outer branches of the bushes methodically stripping them of their leaves. The upper-breast, head, nape, etc., (including a narrow band on the rump) were a light orangy-brown, the wing-bars and webs of the primaries and secondaries were white against black, whilst the rest of the plumage was essentially light grey.

It had a dark facial patch as with crossbills, with a small dark eye and a heavy bill. After grilling it for more than two hours, eventually in the company of only Paul, it became relatively frantic in its movements an dropped from the hawthorns towards the edge of the copse where, agitatedly, it tried to gain the highest perch to continue across to its favourite 11:00 spruce..... .

It para-scended to the ground, not flying very well and then I managed views of c.2m down onto it (a la the Isabelline Wheatear at Telegraph, St. Mary’s and the Desert Wheatear at Selsey Bill). Eventually it made its way to the spruce, where it gave excellent views to me and many other recent arrivals – at which cue I left.

Two images taken by me at the time just to demonstrate I have been consistently good at not getting photographs of birds, despite my claims that it showed at less than two metres........ .

Pine Grosbeak, Lerwick, Shetland, March 1992 (photograph credited to unknown).

Eye-browed Thrush – Setter, Fair Isle, 4^th October 1992

Thanks to Russell Cooper, and also Elizabeth Harvey and Roger Riddington, I was saved from missing a really good bird, i.e., Eye-browed Thrush, despite having ignored the Fair Isle maxim, “Never go north in the afternoon,” (on the basis that if something turns up elsewhere in the afternoon you might miss it when it goes dark before you can get there).

I subsequently wrote up the circumstances for a, “My Best Days Birding in Scotland” article which was published in Birding Scotland in October 2001 (Birding Scotland Volume 4 (4) pp. 146 – 149. This is replicated here:

My Best Days Birding in Scotland – Brian Minshull

I had to think long and hard about my best days birding in Scotland. Not that I was necessarily overwhelmed by choice. I hasten to add that this is more a matter relating to my personal circumstances as opposed to any lack of opportunity for good birding here in Scotland. My work on pipeline projects often takes me away from home so that any birding has to be crammed in on occasional trips to the field on weekends at home or when I am ‘between projects’, as we short-term contract workers say. Domestic circumstances have also compounded this situation; in the past four years I have got married and had two daughters, moved house and worked in each of Peru, California and Turkey for several months.

I have been resident in Scotland since early 1992, when I first moved to the Queensferry area to work on a BP Project that doubled the export capacity of the facilities at Hound Point and Dalmeny. That year I took the chance to go to Fair Isle for two weeks during the first half of October. This would be my first visit to Shetland and Fair Isle at this time of year although I had been to Foula on two seabird ringing expeditions in 1979 and 1980 and more recently a friend and I had visited Scotland to ‘do’ the Scottish specialities in May 1990. This trip culminated in a few days on Shetland and Fair Isle allowing us to jam in on the Pallas’s Sandgrouse. I had also been to Shetland on a couple of other occasions for out and out twitches, with mixed success. The Sandhill Crane in September 1991 set off for Holland at precisely the moment I committed to purchasing tickets to fly from Manchester to Sumburgh, whereas the Pine Grosbeak in April 1992 was somewhat more obliging, and showed brilliantly for the duration of my visit to Lerwick between St. Clair sailings.

As such expectations were high – two weeks on Fair Isle at around about prime time. All the more so after I had two ticks on mainland Shetland on the 2nd October as my friend Pete Ewer and I travelled from Edinburgh to Fair Isle; Dusky Warbler and Black-headed Bunting.

On arrival on Fair Isle we found a collection of well-known birders including Mick Turton, Tom Francis and Doug Page already there. In addition, there was Russell Cooper, a real character from my native North-East Lancashire and someone I had previously met in the Scillies. Meeting up with birders such as these simply added to my expectations.

The next day, our first full day on Fair Isle, produced some good birds including one Olive-backed Pipit and one Pallas’s Warbler as well as several species with a winter flavour, including Brambling, Lapwing, Lapland Bunting, Jack Snipe and skeins of geese.

On the 4th October, the day in question, the weather was anything but in keeping with such birds, as it was a day reminiscent of some days during October in the Scillies, calm with unseasonably warm sunshine. As is evidenced by the accompanying photograph I was intent on making the most of this. Having gone south towards the crofting areas in the morning with similar results to the previous day, including one Pallas’s Warbler, two Yellow-browed Warblers, one Olive-backed Pipit and one Woodchat Shrike, I decided to ignore the popular convention of, “Never go north in the afternoon”. This maxim is given in order to prevent people missing goodies that are discovered in the crofting areas late in the afternoon only to disappear that night. For whatever reason though I sent off in tee-shirt and shorts (yes, it was that warm) for a walk along the cliffs in the north and west of the island, away from the more ‘intensive’ birding in the south.

he birds I had seen earlier were good enough, but perhaps I wanted to do my own thing and find my own birds rather than see those found by others. Going north would give me the chance to do this. Nothing too exciting was seen between the Obs and the North Light; my notebook records one Guillemot, one Great Skua, three Teal at Golden Water and on Wheatear, but once at the Light things started to happen.

As I worked my way through the assorted pipits feeding on the short-cropped turf on the cliff-tops adjacent to the lighthouse one appeared to be an obvious Olive-backed Pipit, a species I had been watching closely just a few hours earlier ‘down south’ so I suppose I had ‘got my eye in’. My memory and notebook do not serve to remind me whether I was initially alerted to its presence by a call or not, but nonetheless, there it was. Now it is not every day you find an OBP, and although it was a little disconcerting seeing one feeding with Rock and Meadow Pipits in the atypical setting of short-cropped turf as opposed to some sort of denser cover, I was happy enough with my initial i.d.; this was Fair Isle after all. Indeed, so much so that I took the opportunity to show it to Mrs Stout, who like several other islanders that Sunday afternoon was day-tripping to North Light, as you do.

I got my ‘scope onto it so that I could let Mrs Stout have a look, (although she had probably already seen umpteen OBPs). During the usual process of, “Now let me get the ‘scope back on it – right it’s in there now”, I was somewhat bemused when another pipit, looking just like ‘my’ OBP, walked into view and past the bird we were looking at. A crisis of confidence ensued – was I stringing OBPs, and misleading the good Mrs Stout?

Fortunately, meanwhile another family of islanders had arrived, and as the family was the Riddifords, help was at hand, the former warden of the Obs would put me right.

I called Nick over, and explained my predicament. I suppose I could allow myself to believe I had stumbled onto one OBP, but two seemed a little careless. So somewhat reluctantly, I told Nick that I had been watching what I was sure was an OBP with Mrs Stout when another had walked past it. I got him onto the birds and asked him to confirm my i.d.. Unfortunately, they had continued moving along the cliff top and as a result the light was less than clever, but Nick was able to confirm they certainly looked good for OBPs. He couldn’t be 100% sure, because of the light, but said they looked good.

So I wasn’t cracking up then, and buoyed with re-found confidence I volunteered to move around the birds in the hope that they would return back to where I had first seen them, and so into better light for Nick.

This I did, but unfortunately the birds didn’t agree my plans and flew, calling as they did so. They flew towards Nick and he gestured ‘two’ (or at least that’s what I thought he was doing, although he may have been enraged by my careless flushing!). Anyway, I set off back towards him, and as I did so two pipits flew overhead giving the same distinctive call we had just heard. By now things were getting out of hand; were these birds the same two which had just come around in a big circuit, or two more? Nick congratulated me on my find and we discussed the ‘two bird’ situation before I continued on my way, leaving the various islanders to enjoy their Sunday afternoon constitutional.

All exhilarating stuff!

As I left the North Light area I had a flock of 22 Siskin and on Easter Lother Water there was a Dunlin. However, my notebook and memory don’t begin to do justice to the events of the next couple of hours as I walked around the clifftops from North Light to Burrashield in ‘perfect weather’. Time and again, I would arrive at the top of a geo and find it crawling with birds. I would sit at the edge of the cliff overlooking the grassy slopes at the top of the geos and work my way through the migrants flitting about. Often they were ridiculously close to me. I guess the warm weather meant that they were working their way up the cliffs and into the upper reaches of the geos with the result that I had concentrations of migrants to work my way through. Nothing too spectacular but nonetheless, absolutely fantastic birding. It was hypnotic in a way; I knew I could be missing out if something was found in the south of the island but it was addictive, drug-like, as anything could be around the next corner, or rather in the next geo. Sitting at the top of geos in warm sunshine searching through warblers for goodies and surrounded by interesting geology and botany was superb.

By the time I reached Burrashield I had clocked up two Yellow-browed Warblers, three Ring Ouzels, four Redstarts, eight Blackcaps, one Garden Warbler, one Chiffchaff, six Goldcrests and four Robins in the various geos at the back of Ward Hill. Nothing too stunning, but extremely enjoyable as the walk was in fantastic scenery and weather and there was a mix of satisfaction and expectation throughout; I felt as though my decision to do my own thing had more than paid off.

Reluctantly then, I tore myself away from the cliffs and down over Burrashield and Sukka Mire towards the airfield, seeing three Short-eared Owls on the way. As I descended I must have been highly visible to those birders in the crofting areas and also to islanders attempting to enjoy the day of rest in my lurid combination of white tee-shirt, orange shorts and pink skin.

Despite my excellent few hours birding I suppose I had some misgivings about what I might have missed. Luckily my lack of subdued clothing, (contrary to another oft-repeated birding maxim) was to be my saving grace.

My notebook kicks into life here, so I’ll quote directly.

“Having spent an exhilarating few hours on the North and West cliffs – two Olive-backed Pipits and two Yellow-browed Warblers amongst my many finds, I made my way down from the tops to the airfield. Here, whilst reading the National Trust for Scotland sign, I was rescued by a running Russell Cooper, who blurted out the words, “Brian, Eye-browed Thrush.” I ran towards Setter, to be rescued by Elizabeth (Harvey) in the mini-bus, and delivered to my destiny. I got dropped off at the School, and from there, continued my run to those still watching the bird at the back of the crofts at Field and Barkland.

Here the assistant warden (Roger Riddington) soon had me onto it, the bird amongst the Redwing. And what a bird! It was on a sloping area of the next field, feeding with 20 or 30 Redwing. Superficially similar to the Redwing with similar upperparts including head. This was distinctively patterned with an obvious white supercilium and a crescent around the rear of the ear-coverts and extending towards the base of the bill. The upperparts were a rich brownish orange.”

Evidently, when the bird was found it became apparent that I was not around and to my eternal gratitude Russell had firstly scanned the hills until he spotted me and then legged it to the airstrip to tell me the news!! I can picture him now gasping for breath and blurting out those words.

The Eye-browed Thrush was a tick for me and coming at the end of a day which had also involved me seeing one Pallas’s Warbler, two Yellow-browed Warbler, one Olive-backed Pipit and one Woodchat Shrike and finding two Olive-backed Pipits and two Yellow-browed Warblers suitably completed the day.

This all meant that I had a lot of writing up to do. Paul Harvey, the then warden, asked me to write up a description of the Olive-backed Pipits and having heard about this multiple occurrence had to take me to one side and urged me to ignore what others, including a previous warden of FIBO, was saying about how many birds were involved and tell him how many I thought were involved!

I am still not entirely sure, but the British Birds Rarities Committee report dutifully records “…another two, possibly three, 4th …(R. Minshull……)” . Got my name wrong again, as they did the previous time I had submitted a record, but you can’t have everything.

That night, courtesy of Dave Suddaby, plans were made for a boat to North Ronaldsay so that the twitchers amongst us could see the Siberian Thrush there, and as good as that twitch was it did not compare with the previous days eventful birding, my best days birding in Scotland.

Footnote: During the process of writing this article I dug out a photocopy of the description I submitted for the pipits. This refers to another sheet on which I think attempted to explain the circumstances involved. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a copy of this and so for that ‘quoting from notes made at the time’ feel I tried to get hold of a copy of this account, firstly by contacting FIBO, and then Paul Harvey, with no luck. However, during the course of our conversation Paul told me he had been to North Light that morning and had heard what he thought was probably OBP, and adding to the confusion had also had two Tree Pipits there! Also, apparently, Nick Riddiford had submitted his own description of the OBP’s as well. All this was in the middle of what proved to be a ‘mini-fall’ of OBPs on Fair Isle.

Eye-browed Thrush, Setter, Fair Isle, October 1992 (from the BBRC Report for 1992).

In October 1993 I saw another on St. Mary’s and also, it, or another, on St. Agnes.

Eye-browed Thrush, St. Mary's, Scilly, October 1993 (photograph credited to unknown).