Taiga Flycatcher – The Leas, Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, 15^th October 2020

As described in the relevant account (not yet posted) the Two-barred Greenish Warbler provided an excellent bonus in the wreckage that 2020 / autumn 2020 had become. I was in a good position too for any further bonuses; sure ‘biggies’ in Shetland ‘hurt’ somewhat (especially the Blackpoll Warbler) hurt, but should anything else turn up that was accessible and that I needed, I could go for it, as I wasn’t working and was only sorting out my new place and doing ‘Isle of May’ things.

So, when a Red-breasted Flycatcher which had been reported at The Leas, Trow Quarry, South Shields at 17:47 on the 14th October changed identity at 18:30 that evening, I was interested, very interested. An hour or so later Steely sent me a WhatsApp message about the same. We exchanged further messages about the same including my plan to go and which way to go (A1, A18, Tyne Tunnel, South Shields… 2.5 hours. Simples).

I sorted out my gear and attempted an early(-ish) night, but the plan was to wait for positive news in the morning.

The trouble was the first message on RBA at 08:00 the following morning was negative… “No sign of 1w. Taiga Flycatcher……”.

Ho-hum, forget that plan then…. .

However, at 08:13 there was a much more positive message suggesting the Taiga Flycatcher was still there at 08:10.

I was in the car and on the way before 09:00, and there by c.11:40 after a good drive, only punctuated by my need to use the change machine adjacent to the toll booths for the Tyne Tunnel. Who the hell has change nowadays? However, thankfully the machine accepted my Scottish £5 note….. .

I then successfully navigated my way through South Tyneside to South Shields town centre and beyond to the seafront. I readily found the right place and easily managed to park (right opposite the Bamburgh pub) as directed.

I assembled my gear and walked across the still being manicured amenity grassland towards what was, in effect, a raised beach like cliff edge inland of the coastline. It was evident where I was meant to be going (there was a very thin straggle of birders making their way back to their cars parked on the roadside). However, as I made my way towards the path down to the lower area of amenity grassland (The Leas?) I encountered a group of locals making their way towards the road, one of whom advised me, “Just keep going, there’s loads of them down there,” or something vaguely similar in a Mackem dialect.

I did so anyway….. . I joined the gallery arrayed in front of the embayment in the cliff edge which, the bird seemingly was frequenting.

Some 30 or 40 birders were there, with a handful more on the ‘cliff edge’ above the scene.

I made my way along the rear of the gallery and saw Andy Close (this time managing instantaneous i.d. of him from a good range….). He quickly informed me about what the bird was doing and that a faecal sample had been obtained…….. .

The bird was apparently ranging backwards and forwards along the lower slope / base of the cliff and as such showing well if intermittently. This was good news.

Less good news was the whole faecal sample scenario; Andy suggested that the i.d. wasn’t necessarily as clear-cut as it might be and as such it was hoped to get a DNA analysis conducted by the good Doctor Collinson.

Although the bird was supposedly ranging backwards and forwards and showing intermittently, this wasn’t readily apparent from where the majority of the gallery was standing, as there was a relatively low, bright sun directly behind the amphitheatre created by the embayment in the cliff. This precluded any sensible views so I told Andy I was moving further around to the narrow strip of the mown amenity grassland (and adjacent rough grassland at the base of the cliff) which was in shade.

This made viewing much easier as it also allowed me to see around the back of the main large bush that the bird favoured, although the strong wind didn’t help. However, the bird was frequently viewable as it flitted from perches in and around the bush and on prominent rocks, etc., on the lower slopes of the cliff to the ground to hawk prey items.

As such, I progressively obtained half-decent views, although it’s highly mobile behaviour, the light conditions and the nagging wind hindered this.

I was able to get enough on it to be reasonably happy with it, but there was still some doubt in my mind, partly on the basis of my earlier conversation with Andy. It was a subtle bird, certainly, and there was some ambiguity in it’s supposed crucial features. Further, it was hard to get good views of the black upper-tail coverts. Certainly, the tail was jet-black, but how far did this black extend up the tail and were the upper-tail coverts a shade or two darker? The plumage was shades of cold grey, but there were warmer tones on the upper part of the underparts, and, with persistence, you could make out a white throat. The tertials did have pale edges and tips, but they didn’t appear to be white; they were off-white at the best. The bill was certainly all dark. And if you squinted it did appear ‘capped’.

As ever, with the last few birds I need for my much-vaunted ‘500’, a very educational bird; there are few easy ones left!

Really enjoyed the trip and the ‘twitch’ itself, and especially so seeing such good friends as Andy Close, Darren Woodhead and Marcus Brew. And I was home by 18.00.

My preferred viewpoint (in shade and offering views around the back of the preferred tree…).

The gallery at Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, October 2020; excellent to see Andy Close, Darren Woodhead and Marcus Brew.

Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, October 2020.

Taiga Flycatcher at The Leas, Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, October 2020 (photograph credited to Oli Mockridge).

Taiga Flycatcher at The Leas, Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, October 2020 (photograph credited to Martyn Sidwell).

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler – Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, 2^nd October 2024

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler!! What a bird!!!!!

A bird about which, there is VERY much a back-story, so first the ‘back-story’.

The back-story

On the morning of the 12th October 2016, during the incredible autumn of the incredible year that was 2016, Dennis Weir and I had initially blithely misidentified an Arctic Warber we discovered in the walled garden at the community hospital / health centre in Baltasound, Unst as a Greenish Warbler. Our colleagues, Paul Collin, John Nadin and Ken Shaw asked us why it wasn’t an Arctic Warbler, and we agreed, and blamed our copious amounts of red wine-induced hangovers. Too late for poor Ken, who had already put the news out on the Shetland WhatsApp group in good faith, such that when he had hastily corrected the ‘news’ he was immediately fielding a barrage of messages, etc., asking him less than politely, “What the fuck was going on????”, and, “What the fuck was it?” (i.e., “It could be anything nowadays!!!” - in view of the ‘new-fangled’ super-rare eastern Phylloscs such as Eastern Crowned Warbler, Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Sakhalin Leaf Warbler, etc. we were all slowly coming to terms with…….. ).

Just a very few days later, Ken and Amanda Shaw and I arrived in the Scillies via a long journey from Shetland which had taken in the Dalmatian Pelican en route, but, sadly for me, not the Hudsonian Godwit.

Along with Chris Pendlebury, we were staying in Rosenhill Cottage on St. Agnes between the 17th and the 24th October.

Obviously, it was fantastic to be on St. Agnes again, and all the better given that my very good mate Paul Pugh was staying in a flat at The Parsonage concurrently. Birding wasn’t necessarily fantastic but we changed it up with some rock-pooling, botanising (Lesser Adder’s Tongue) and ship-spotting (Queen Mary 2). Paul had the best views of what was very probably a juvenile Pallid Harrier and we all saw this, or another, harrier distantly over The Narrows, but unfortunately the record never saw the light of day, in part mired in the two-bird theory, as there was a ringtail Hen Harrier reported on St. Mary’s concurrently.

However, this all paled (sorry) into insignificance on the night of the 21st October, when Laurence Pitcher, Lee Amory, et al., brought a deceased Phyllosc in a plastic box to the Turk’s Head…… .

They were staying in one of the cottages owned by Fran Hicks, and explained that he had told them about a dead ‘Yellow-browed Warbler’ he had found beneath windows at the lighthouse. He had indicated that if they were interested in seeing it, he had placed in in a green waste bin. They had retrieved the corpse and then, as they had thought it was an Arctic Warbler, but ‘not quite right', they had posted images of it on social media. Very quickly certain people, including James Gilroy, Chris Batty and Andrew Holden, responded saying it was either Pale-legged Leaf Warbler or Sakhalin Leaf Warbler.

Anyway, that night, the corpse was taken to the Turks Head, where, rather unceremoniously, the bird was generally passed around, prodded and / or examined and photographed by the assembled birders, perhaps some 25 or so. Conversely, the ‘finders’ wanted to give it a decent burial, and we all worked hard to persuade them that this was a very important record, and the specimen had to be properly preserved and retained for prosperity (let alone identified as either Pale-legged Leaf Warbler or Sakhalin Leaf Warbler using DNA!). Given the time elapsed, and the multiple handling involved, the specimen was already getting a bit squishy. However, all’s well that ends well, and the whole story, including the outcome of the DNA analysis, is properly written up here (unlike this nonsense):

https://britishbirds.co.uk/sites/default/files/2018_V111_N08_438-445_PaleleggedLeafWarbler.pdf

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler showing not so well amongst beer glasses, Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016 (photograph credited to Chris Pendlebury).

Exhibit A (showing all the features!), Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016 (photographs credited to Paul Pugh).

Andy Carroll doing the bird log in the Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016. “Er. Any other species?”. (photograph credited to Paul Pugh).

It did indeed prove to be a Pale-legged Leaf Warbler.

So, as I recently saw the Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve bird, I now can claim to be one of very, very few people who have seen two Pale-legged Leaf Warblers in Britain, albeit that one was very much deceased.

However, this isn’t the whole back-story.

Chris Pendlebury subsequently confided that the late afternoon before, when we had been looking into The Parsonage from the road alongside the school, he on my right, and David Bradshaw on my left, he had briefly seen what he thought might have been an Arctic Warbler, but hadn’t said anything as I was deep in conversation with David ,,,,,,,,, . Ho-hum!

We shall never know, but certainly this part of the story made me very keen to see a live Pale-legged Leaf Warbler and remove some of the hurt…… .

Me telling Andy Carroll some story about being this close to seeing a Pale-legged Leaf Warbler near the Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016. (Or something like that 😊). (photograph credited to Paul Pugh).

The front-story

For some (months and) weeks early autumn 2024, I had been somewhat preoccupied with, amongst other things, plans for celebrating the 90th anniversary of the Isle of May Bird Observatory.

This involved an on-island event planned for the exact day of the anniversary, 90 years to the day after the ‘Bird Boys’ founded the bird observatory on the 28th September 1934 to the very day.

Unfortunately, at 16:13 on the afternoon of Friday 27th September I received a ‘phone call from David Steel, the Reserve Manager on the Isle of May National Nature Reserve during which it was confirmed that the event (on Saturday at least) had been cancelled by Alex Gardner, the boatman responsible for the May Princess.

Consequently, I spent the next good while notifying all attendees of the cancellation, and determining whether they could make the rearranged sailing on Sunday the 29th September instead, liaising with the Chairman of the Bird Observatory, Alan Lauder and David Steel, preparing a new summary of attendees, etc..

As such, a RBA message at 17:55 possibly didn’t fully register, at least until much later.

The message said, “East Yorks probable Pale-legged Leaf Warbler Bempton Cliffs RSPB in brambles near feeding station at 5:10 pm though elusive (for 3rd day; probably not Eastern Crowned Warbler)”.

A subsequent message at 18:42 said. “MEGA E. Yorks PALE-LEGGED LEAF WARBLER Bempton Cliffs RSPB in brambles near feeding station at 5:10 pm (identification confirmed from sound recording)”.

This was repeated at 18:44, and at 19:10 it was confirmed it was still there.

However, if not comatose at this point (I may well have gone for a lie down after re-organising everyone and everything for the 90th anniversary celebrations…. ) I might still have been unaware, or at least un-responsive.

After all, Saturday had only just been freed up by the cancellation (except that, as of earlier on Friday, a heating engineer was now coming to sort out my issue regarding the failure of the boiler to produce hot water early on the Saturday morning), and Sunday had only just been booked up. And anyway, it was a long way to go, would be utter chaos, and probably wouldn’t be there by the time I got there (it had been around since Wednesday the 25th September).

Plus, I have to admit, my worsening balance issue gave me real concerns about struggling to get adequate views of what was ‘clearly’ a very elusive bird in deep cover in amongst a big crowd of over-excited twitchers on potentially very uneven ground. Nah, that wouldn’t be good.

The (rearranged) Isle of May Bird Observatory 90th anniversary event on the island went well, and certainly pre-occupied me on both the Saturday and the Sunday, as did the Burnley v. Plymouth game on the Saturday, despite twelve positive news updates on the Saturday and seven on Sunday.

On Monday it was still around, but maybe the weekend’s events had taken it out of me, as I couldn’t get too enthusiastic about it, even though I knew I couldn’t go on the Tuesday as my car was booked into the garage to get the blowing exhaust and non-pumping front windscreen water-pump sorted, or at least, diagnosed.

By now others in my circle had caught up with it, and others were asking whether I had.

However, the bird had shown commendable stickability, and so I resolved to go on the Wednesday as soon as there was news. This there was at 08:01, and so I was in the car by 08.13, for the start of a truly epic day of driving. Google Maps took me south on the west side of the country and across to the east on the A66(T), which is always going to be a mixed blessing ever since I got the news of my Dad passing away when journeying back to Edinburgh via the A66(T) just a very few hours after seeing him in hospital. Anyway, a couple of hold ups excepted, it was a good (c.275 mile!) journey, although I had to stop to refuel (being almost entirely empty) within 20 miles of my destination.

The journey took longer than what was indicated on Google Maps, but I duly arrived just less than six hours after I had departed.

On arrival I parked up. It was immediately apparent that the scene of the crime incredibly was close by.

There were still plenty of birders twitching the bird but a hint of some “Johnny come lately’s” being there several days after the event, without too much idea (me included).

I wandered into the nearest part of the scattered throng alongside the car-park access road, and was briefly distracted by a Goldcrest-fest which was being togged (there may have been a Yellow-browed Warbler there too, in mitigation).

I decided that asking RSPB volunteer for his advice seemed like a good idea. He confirmed that the bird had recently been seen, and described the bird’s rough circuit.

When I expressed my concern about getting good views given my balance, he also indicated that there was seating available at the feeding area seemed like a good idea.

As such, I opted to sit and wait at the feeding area, but after a while I got nervous – what if others had it nearby? As such, I joined the group around the area of scrub between the car-park and that around the feeding area.

It was quickly apparent that some of them at least had had it, but that was the easy bit. It was equally apparent that getting good views was going to be problematic given its elusive behaviour low in dense cover and my lack of agility and mobility.

For example, I managed to get very fleeting mainly naked eye or very obscured views before it flew over or past us into the scrub around the feeding area.

Here I again got very much less than satisfactory views as it moved around low in the cover and I moved around trying to find somewhere suitable to view it from amongst the gallery all whilst trying to stay upright.

I mused about what I might consider as ‘acceptable’ views. Traditionally, I guess, this would involve views in which it could be considered as ‘identifiable’. Anyway, I eventually decided that I would want to have decent enough views of its head (i.e., its fantastic eye-stripe and supercilium combo), if nothing else.

The bird had disappeared into the low cover to the left of the feeding area from where the gallery was assembled.

Given my unsteadiness, I opted to sit on one of two low benches at the rear of the gallery, but close to the scrub to the left and rear of the gallery.

At first this was frustrating as any chance of seeing the bird involved looking through or around intervening birders, but fantastically and conveniently the bird (which was evidently on a circuit) worked its way through the scrub alongside the viewing area to the scrub at the rear of the viewing area, meaning I had a front row seat. Even then, getting on it wasn’t easy, but I successfully did so, and quickly replaced my unsatisfactory views with satisfactory (and more than satisfactory) ones.

It briefly disappeared in the depths of the cover at the rear of the viewing area, but then reappeared again given good, if brief, views as it worked its way through the low cover. It gradually, but quite quickly, made its way back into the low cover to the left of the feeding area and I repositioned myself against a convenient rail next to Bret Richards. who it was fantastic to see again after all these years. This allowed me to get further good if brief views.

All the time it was being well and truly togged.

I was very pleased with myself; from very unpromising circumstances, I had managed to get very satisfactory views of an absolutely stonking bird!

I retreated for a relaxing coffee, exhilarated, before I returned in the hope of a repeat performance. By now (given the views it had given) the gallery had dispersed apart from the woman I had been sat next to who was clearly hoping for the same. Whilst waiting I social mediaed the heck out of it.

It failed to reappear, so I cut my losses, and decided that it was time to drive home.

The journey was just as long, but slightly quicker (excepting a pit-stop for fish and chips in Biggar, which took longer than anticipated). Certainly, otherwise, the journey passed much quicker than the outbound one as I had scored and I was exhilarated.

It was a superb looking thing, with a head pattern to die for. This involved a stonking creamy-white supercilium which, although thin and not all that in front of the eye, widened madly at the rear of the eye, before tapering off but flicking up towards the nape. This was all accentuated by the blackish green eyestripe which again flared behind the eye as the upper ear-coverts and up-flicked as it terminated abruptly in a straight line against the nape.

The crown and forehead were also blackish green and the lower ear-coverts were a mix of darker colouring and the coldish off-white of the entire underparts, excepting the area on the upper breast sides which also had some darker colouring. The upperparts were an olive-greeny shade not dissimilar to Arctic Warbler, with a faint white wing-bar created by the lighter tips of the greater coverts. However, there was a definite bronzy shade to at least the retrices and the remiges, which seemingly varied with the light conditions. The closed wing had Blyth’s Reed Warbler like bunching of the tertials.

The eye was largish looking and black. The bill was surprisingly heavy and vireo-like, with the lower mandible at least being horn coloured, and the upper part of the upper mandible being darker. The legs were whitish-pink, giving n effect like white stockings over pink legs. It was all a bit incongruous, in a White-legged Damselfly kind of way.

I heard it call too, particularly early on. It had what I would describe as a Chaffinch like, ‘pink’ call which was though, higher-pitched, and thinner than Chaffinch.

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, October 2024 (photograph credited to Glynn Sellors).

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, October 2024 (photograph credited to Frank Goulding).

I really, really, really enjoyed the bird (it was one of the very best birds I've seen) and I was so glad I made the effort of going for it. 

As such, I can rightfully claim to be one of very, very few people who have seen two Pale-legged Leaf Warblers in Britain, albeit that one was very much deceased. What a grip-back; back from the dead!

Barrow’s Goldeneye – Ythan Estuary, Aberdeenshire, 16^th May 2005

This saga again involved another instance of me travelling the wrong way on the UK motorway network when a very good bird was available. The news broke on the pager on Friday the 13th May when, inevitably, I was driving south to spend the weekend in Ryton-on-Dunsmore. Yep, Friday the 13th.... . The news certainly wasn’t trivial; the second ever Barrow’s Goldeneye on the highly accessible Ythan Estuary in Aberdeenshire, just a small matter of 25.5 years after the first... .... .

I ‘endured’ a weekend with Elizabeth (only kidding Elizabeth!) before, on Sunday the 15th May, travelling back north to Mum’s in Burnley and staying overnight.

My punishing schedule then involved getting up at 06:00 the following morning and driving to the temporary offices of whichever British Gas derivative I was working for in Newmains, Wishaw in Lanarkshire. I worked (firstly in the office and then latterly on site) until 16:.00 when I sneaked away from work on a mission to unblock a blocker.

The journey to the Ythan Estuary from deepest Lanarkshire went well despite the time of day involved which resulted in rush hour traffic in Dundee at least.

It was strange to be passing through Angus and Dundee given that I would be intensively ‘doing it’ as part of a 24 hour bird race team the following Saturday.

Having been trapped by a road safety camera the preceding Saturday I was less than impressed to be apparently flashed at by another, and then to have a speed-gun waved at me by two policemen in a lay-by on the A90(T). Otherwise, the drive was uneventful(!) and I navigated my way through Aberdeen and on to Newburgh to arrive at the Ythan by 19:00. There was some urgency as the evening light was not the best, and could deteriorate at any time, especially given the bitter north-westerly wind lashing across the estuary to the viewpoint on the A975.

And the problem was where to begin? The pager offered some good clues, but no birders or pertinent birds were obvious from the big lay-by on the A975, so I quickly returned to the cottages further back along the road. From here, thankfully, a small group of Goldeneye were visible, and so I assembled my gear (minus a suitable coat, unfortunately) and crossed the road to a suitable look out.

Once sorted, the male Barrow’s Goldeneye was immediately obvious as it frequently dived, and occasionally preened and displayed (with its beak open!) amongst a flock of some twelve Goldeneye (although it stayed apart from the Goldeneyes at times). Views were good, if a little distant, although at times the bird was difficult to relocate after it dived due to the windy or choppy conditions.

It was, basically, superficially similar looking to male Goldeneye but was perhaps bulkier, with a different head shape, and had a white crescent on the lores, large, square scallops on the coverts and orange legs.

I enjoyed the trip very much; it was another belting tick, and the only real negative was the fish and chips on the way back.

Subsequently either the same bird or another was seen very well on the river in Callander on the 27th January 2007.

Barrow’s Goldeneye, Callendar, Stirling, January 2007 (photograph credited to Simon Knight).

Brünnich’s Guillemot – Portland Harbour, Portland, Dorset, 30^th December 2013

Wow!!

Who would have thought it?

Scored with Brünnich’s Guillemot on the penultimate day of 2013!

The bird had first been reported on Thursday the 19th December, but although it then hadn’t croaked and lingered day after day, Christmas nonsense and distance precluded any thoughts of going for it.

I had Christmas at home, and completed a vantage point survey at Greencraig on Saturday the 28th December.

Then, for unknown reasons I was on a train between Southport and Wigan on the 29th December (I assume I had been in Southport overnight?) as I have notes suggesting I saw Whooper Swans from the train near Martin Mere. Just what I had been up to, and why I wasn’t in my car I know not.

I do know that that once I was reunited with my car I was planning to drive to my Dad’s in Chesterfield for the New Year.

As it turned out, I did so via Portland in Dorset, as you do...... . The things you do when a good bird is available!

The first leg of this involved driving south on the M6 and the M5 to Somerset. From there it involved navigating through Somerset and Dorset from near Taunton, to Yeovil, to Dorchester, to Weymouth and finally Portland. This took some five hours, which meant, as it was mid-winter, the remaining daylight hours, once I finally got there, were a serious consideration.

Anyway, I duly made it by mid-afternoon, and parked up, assembled my gear, etc.. The bird was on the Portland side of the harbour, and was generally close inshore, moving rapidly (particularly when underwater) just off the nearly created sea defences and esplanade, the marinas and the buildings, jetties, etc., around Portland Castle.

Being a sunny day in the period between Christmas and New Year there were a good number of birders there, and we roved backwards and forwards attempting to keep up with the bird swimming and diving at ranges of approximately 50 – 100 m offshore.

I shan’t attempt to detail these toing and froings; suffice to say I quickly got my eye in and did my own thing tracking the bird more than adequately with just a little bit of intuition.

This was really instructive, as it was, if not in the company of, in proximity to both Guillemot and Razorbill.

As suggested, it was distinctive once you got your eye in. It was very black and white (unlike Guillemot). The subtleties of its plumage were interesting; there was something of a first-winter / winter plumage Puffin going on. It had a strong, thick bill, with highly distinctive white line along lower part of upper mandible.

Once I had enjoyed good views for a prolonged period, I journeyed on to Chesterfield through the middle of southern England.

Whether this whole experience stood me in any stead a few years later on Sunday the 25th September 2016 when Ken Shaw mobilised me to Anstruther to take in the Brünnich’s Guillemot he and Alan Lauder (et al.) had seen as they left the harbour for the Isle of May (and as such continue the good fight against the naysayers) is debatable.

I had really great views of this bird from the harbour walls and as such I was able to note the characteristics of this bird, and the differences this involved from the one I had seen in the depths of winter. It had the same ‘low in the water’ appearance, and also the winter Puffin-type plumage. The white line on the bill was a very subtle indistinct feature, and this in particular was the subject of much debate. Luminaries of the Scottish birding scene such as Martin Scott and Rab Shand were less than convinced, and Martin Scott had a call from Lee Evans asking (basically), “What the fuck was going on?”

Meanwhile, I was arguing (as best as I could) the case for Ken’s i.d., and providing Ken with feedback from the location on the ‘phone. All very, er, interesting, and very much saved by Willie Irvine, who was able to show us a back of the camera image of the bird which revealed the hard to see white tomium stripe.

It had a short bill, with a strongly curved upper mandible and discernible gonys, a pale bill tip, a tomium stripe, a ‘bumpy’ forehead, a ‘chunky’ head, and clean, white flanks. It also showed a little white flecking above the gape line and behind the eye and its upperparts showed brown hues which were somewhat ‘non textbook’ but presumably within the range of variation of a Brünnich’s Guillemot. For example, the brown hues were probably a function of the natural process of wear.

All very instructive, all the more so as it was in an atypical plumage in the UK context.

The Portland Harbour bird.

A key early photograph of the Brunnich’s Guillemot showing a hint of the tomium stripe (photograph credited to Willie Irvine).

The Anstruther Harbour bird.

…. with Ken Shaw’s flat in the background….

 Belted Kingfisher – River Don, Peterculter, Aberdeenshire, 6^th April 2005

A massive, massive relief this! Brilliant! The bird was brilliant – belting indeed. Catching up with it after the April’s Fool Day debacle was like a dream come true.

On Friday the 1st April I was driving south on the M6 with Ellen and Tessa as we were going to Ryton-on-Dunsmore in Warwickshire to help Elizabeth Lisle finally move into her house with her children. This was a momentous day for her (and for Caspar, Yasmina, Darius and Suroush) as finally they were escaping their previous home at Goodrest Cottage in nearby Brandon and (Medrhad, Elizabeth’s ex-) for their new one. In that sense it was a momentous day for me too (after all I had helped Elizabeth with the purchase both emotionally and financially).

Anyway, the rather stupendous news of a Belted Kingfisher at Tixall, Staffordshire broke as we journeyed south. Less than an hour earlier the girls and I had passed junction 14 on the M6, which would have been the most logical junction at which to leave the M6 to get there.

I pressed on, under the duress of my commitment to Elizabeth who had spent months and months living in hell. Once we arrived in Ryton-on-Dunsmore I did raise the possibility of twitching the Belted Kingfisher with Elizabeth, but very promptly parked it due to being rather fond of my manhood.

It had been April’s Fool Day indeed. But I wasn’t that foolish.

Perhaps playing the long game was the way to go? The next day, there was negative news from Staffordshire, but incredibly, there was news of what was very obviously the same bird from Eastrington in East Yorkshire. However, any hope of possibly being able to twitch this also crashed and burned as it was again a one day bird.

That’s life..... .

However, once back home in Edinburgh, I got a text from Stuart Green on the evening of Tuesday the 5th April (just as I was scrolling through my pager messages) and almost simultaneously realised that the dream was very much still alive. There then followed a manic ‘phone call to Stuart during which he explained that the Belted Kingfisher had, unbelievably, been relocated that evening on the River Don in Aberdeenshire!

We discussed my options and concluded that should it still be there the following morning I should ‘phone work with an excuse and make my way to Peterculter asap!

So it was then, that I got a text from Stuart, bizarrely, at 06:25 on the morning of Wednesday the 6th April. Unbelievably it had been ‘scoped still at roost in the same location where it had been seen the night before! I quickly ‘phoned Stuart for an explanation and discussion of our respective plans, and then hurriedly dressed and packed. 20 minutes later I was on the road and heading for the A90(T). Two hours later I was at the car-park in Peterculter, as per the instructions of Stuart and as on the pager.

I quickly assembled my gear and then walked from the car-park and down around the church-yard into the River Don valley itself. From there a straggle of birders were visible along the river, as well as those along the foot-path I was on. Some of these were ‘scoping up river, and so I binned the same way and picked up my target perched on some overhead power-lines over the river. It was a good way off, but distinctive, and, finally, ON MY LIST (OML)! I therefore quickly made my way down onto the floodplain and then upstream towards the closest group of birders.

Once there I quickly put up my ‘scope and proceeded to enjoy leisurely views of a cracking belting bird in good company, primarily Harry Scott, Torquil Grant and Stuart Green. It showed más o menos constantly as I intermittently ‘scoped it and chatted to my colleagues. Harry Scott regaled us with the story of relocating it........ .

I watched it for about 1.5 hours during which it was generally perched on the overhead power-lines (often partially obscured) from a range of c.200 – 300 m. I could have got closer views but .... . I also saw it in flight and with a fish.

Once we had enough, Stuart and I repaired to an Irish bar in Stonehaven for a late brunch, before I returned to work in time to make it to Bathgate for an induction. Phil Allen (my boss on the project I was on at the time) worked out what I had been up to (as the news made the media) but I didn’t care. Belted Kingfisher was on my list!!

As in other such instances, although I had seen this species previously (e.g., in Texas April1992) I actually looked at this one properly....... .

It was a large kingfisher with a large head and bill. Basically, it had bright white under-parts and collar, and steel blue grey upper-parts and chest band. The clearly defined white collar separated the darker blue of the head from that of the back and wings. The plumage of the head was spiky at the rear and on the crown. There was a small white spot in front of the eye above the base of the bill. The primaries were darker than the rest of the wing when the bird was at rest. There were small areas of blue-ish grey feathering on the side of the breast and the thigh. The feathers of the wing and tail had very small white tips suggesting the bird was a first summer. The dark, dagger-like bill was heavy and pointed and the legs were dark.

Belted Kingfisher near Peterculter, Aberdeenshire, April 2005 (photograph credited to Darren Robson).

 Black-billed Cuckoo – Piable, North Uist, Outer Hebrides, 24^th May 2016

Having returned from a very full-on week on the Isle of May on Saturday the 21st May, Sunday the 22nd was officially a slow day, involving some low-key, catching up, washing, etc.. I had plans for doing a lot of not very much for the day, and indeed for the days following.

However, at 17:54 that evening I received the rather incredible news that a Black-billed Cuckoo had been reported on North Uist; I was obviously very interested. When this message was repeated at 18:06 and then when it was confirmed and indicated it was still there at 18:20, 19:13, 19:40, 20:03, 20:29 and 21:02, I was completely galvanised (well, a bit!).

Obviously, it was a fantastic record, but, given the sad track record of this species in particular, was there any realistic prospect of catching up with it? Time would tell, but allowing time to elapse might also involve an increased risk of missing out.

I resolved to wait for any news the following morning. This came through as early as 06:19 on the morning of Monday the 23rd May. I was initially oblivious (i.e., asleep!) but as soon as I checked my mobile I was indeed (again) galvanised, and commenced making my plans for going, and changing my plans for what I was meant to be doing.

After some interminable faffing on the Calmac website, the 18:00 ferry from Uig to Lochmaddy was finally booked online by 07:45.

I hastily packed (though this was relatively easy as I had only partially unpacked on my return from the Isle of May and had tentatively sorted out a few things the previous evening), and prepared. I texted Tessa, whose 16th birthday was the following day, explaining that something had come up, and as such I would no longer be able to see her as we had planned and suggesting that I would call in to see her later..... . I also contacted each of John Nadin, Calum Scott, Dennis Morrison and Kris Gibb suggesting I was going for the cuckoo and offering a lift. John was travelling down south, Calum was finally on the Isle of May, and Dennis and Kris were otherwise committed with work, etc.. So, I was going alone.

I then loaded the car and departed for the Easter Bush Campus of the University of Edinburgh, where I had a previously arranged site visit to undertake involving monitoring the breeding Oystercatchers and liaising with several of the project personnel as appropriate. I completed this in record time, and then travelled to Tesco’s in Queensferry, where I had purchased some gift vouchers for Tessa by 10:18...... .

I then visited Tessa and explained to her (she hadn’t got my text...) that I wouldn’t be able to see her on her birthday, as something had come up. Bright girl that she is she responded by saying, “You’re going to see a bird aren’t you?” I confessed, but she was comfortingly sanguine, knowing her Dad too well.

Soon after 10:30 I was on my way, although immediately on leaving Dalmeny I was ‘phoned by my client at the University of Edinburgh seeking an update about the Oystercatcher work.

Thankfully, the rest of the journey to Uig was straightforward, and, in complete contrast to the same journey for the Gyr Falcon twitch, it was made in fantastic weather.

As a consequence, I arrived at Uig some 2 hours early, chilled in a way which didn’t seem right given the enormity of what was involved. I checked in, and waited for ferry to arrive and for the queue of traffic to drive onto the ferry.

The young woman at the Calmac office indicated that there had been a sudden upsurge in bookings, and certainly I was aware of a few birdy looking types in and around the assembled traffic. I retreated to the outside seating area of the restaurant / bar on the harbour side, and ordered a bacon roll and coffee and basked in the sun, reading my book (I had actually bought a book with me!).

Various people came and went from the same area, including a group of some of the birdy types I had noted. When I saw a Twite incongruously and inconspicuously feeding on a small patch of grass adjacent to the decking, I asked the presumed birders whether they were indeed birders and when they confirmed they were, pointed out the Twite to them. An elderly woman thanked me and indicated it was a new bird for her. I assumed she and her ‘group’ were twitchers from down south.

As with the drive from Edinburgh to Uig, the crossing from Uig to Lochmaddy was similarly uneventful. I birded throughout the crossing, though birds were very limited. Highlights were a probable Golden Eagle just outside Uig and a pod of dolphins before we reached The Minch. I called these for the assembled birders on deck, and still blithely assumed they were a loosely associated group of twitchers from down south.

I should have known better, especially as we arrived in Lochmaddy and there were a series of confused shouts relating to White-tailed Eagle and various divers, or not.... .

By then the tension had racketed up.

I descended through the decks to the car deck, and finished preparing my gear so that everything as ready for action, with no delays once there.

Fortunately I was towards the front of the ferry and so I disembarked relatively quickly. The adrenalin had really kicked in now and, in scenes reminiscent of the Long-tailed Shrike twitch I thrashed it to Paible at speeds in excess of 100 mph at times.

Once ‘there’ it was not apparent that I was there, and so I stopped and turned around and asked a crofter who was outside his house whether he knew where the cuckoo had been seen. He pointed me in the right direction (literally just over the hill further along the A865) so I turned around again and continued the way I was going. Once just over the hill it still wasn’t particularly apparent where I was meant to be (i.e., there were no birders on site!) so I again asked another crofter who was just going into his drive outside his house near the Paible junction, having just come off the ferry, whether he knew where the cuckoo had been seen. He confirmed he did, as his nephew had told him his garden had been full of twitchers earlier in the day!

By now other birders were arriving, and we decided we were finally there or thereabouts, and parked up. We worked out that the house and gardens between where we had parked alongside the A865 and the Paible junction was the scene of many recent sightings and set about looking for the bird.

The assembled crowd included the ‘birders from down south’ plus one or two others. There would have been some 12 or 14 people at most. Generally, most of them milled around on the road outside the house and gardens involved (i.e., the one with the red spot in the image included here). I (and one or two others) were somewhat more proactive; it was going to be dusk soon, and who knew whether the bird would survive another night?

I became aware that the woman who lived in the house was in the garden and was looking for the bird. Anticipating that this was good news, I loitered with intent, and when she came over, chatted to her. She was very friendly, and told us where she had seen the bird in her garden. She also told us where else it had been seen, and even told us that she had heard the bird calling! She also invited us into the garden to look for it.

I attempted to organise the assembled birders into some sort of co-ordinated action, suggesting that although we had been invited into the garden, that we should decide who amongst us should ‘go in’ and the rest should remain watch from the road. I looked around me for some likely accomplices; I was going in, but with whom else? This wasn’t easy, as by now I was less than inspired by those around me (one elderly woman actually played what I took to be Black-billed Cuckoo calls on her mobile; time may not have been on our side, but all the same!!). One candidate was obvious, and so I quickly nominated him. He proved to be Martin Culshaw. He and I then searched the garden to no avail, and it was apparent that despite my attempts at co-ordinated action, the whole approach was somewhat less than co-ordinated. So whilst the assembled crowd stood around chatting, Martin and I walked down the road to Paible towards other likely gardens, which may have been referenced by the woman in her garden.

We gave the garden around the first house on the Paible road a good looking at (i.e., the one with the blue spot in the image included here) to no avail. Except that, once we started making our way back from there, we suddenly heard shouts from the crowd back at the original garden. We ran back (or, in my case, sort of; it felt like a long time since I had been to the gym).

Once back, it emerged that the bird had been seen perching on the fence on the roadside near the garden we had been checking out before flying all the way back into the original garden. It would seem that we had both inadvertently and obliviously flushed the bird from the ditch alongside the triangular plot of land adjacent to the garden we had been checking out as we walked back, and it had perched on the roadside fence near the passing place sign before flying past the roadside crowd and diving into the cover of the original garden. Typical! So they didn’t do ‘owt (except to continue standing around and yakking) and saw it, whereas Martin and I actively searched for it and didn’t! No justice!

By now it was becoming apparent to me that the other ‘birders’ were not a group of loosely connected twitchers from down south, but rather, they were all members of Fife Bird Cub, and were on an organised trip to the Hebrides. Martin and I were informed what had happened by some of their number, and there were further not very co-ordinated attempts to locate the bird; Martin and I, and others again searched the garden from both inside and outside.

The Fife Bird Club members gradually sauntered off, presumably either satisfied with their views, or no longer interested, or more likely more interested in getting to their accommodation, checking in and having an evening meal. They slowly piled onto their mini-bus and eventually departed.

Just Martin and I remained, and I decided that I should circumnavigate the garden, again to no avail. By now the light was fading, and Martin and I were becoming resigned to our fate. We weren’t going to see it that night, and faced a long, sleepless (for several reasons!) night in our cars before returning, and hopefully finally catching up with the bird. Worse, wondering whether a three day stay for a Black-billed Cuckoo would be very likely. Would it survive a further night? Worse still, I was wracking my brains trying to remember whether Yank cuckoos were night migrants? Would it just leave? It was going to be a clear night...... . Aaargh!!! Very worrying times....... .

Just to make matters even worse, I was by now getting messages from John, Kris and Dennis asking whether I had connected. It was hard to explain in a brief message that some people had but I hadn’t...... .

Martin and I discussed our options in terms of where to park up for the night. As before, the Balranald RSPB Visitor Centre ‘car-park’ was the preferred option, but we realised that two cars parking overnight where there was a sign saying ‘No Overnight Parking’ might be stretching it. However, we both agreed that using the facilities there was a definite must.

I left first, and, having driven to the said location, cleaned my teeth, and then walked back to the nearby road junction, hearing but (inevitably) not seeing several Corncrakes.

Martin subsequently arrived and we discussed alternatives to Balranald RSPB Visitor Centre ‘car-park’. We opted for the area adjacent to Loch na Reivil, scene of my recent success with the Gyr Falcon.... .

Once here, I parked up and sorted myself out, and attempted to sleep. The Corncrakes which were calling nearby were the least of my problems. Getting comfortable and staying a suitable temperature (although it wasn’t especially cold) was difficult, but worse was the fact that every time I made a significant movement a motion sensor picked this up and the car alarm went off. Try as I might, I couldn’t disarm the car alarm, whether or not the car doors were locked, and so it went off all too frequently.

Black-billed Cuckoo, Piable, North Uist, Outer Hebrides, May 2016 (photograph credited to Stuart Piner).

Black-billed Cuckoo, Piable, North Uist, Outer Hebrides, May 2016 (photograph credited to unknown).

Eventually though, I managed some good, if brief, deep sleep – sat upright. Finally, it was time to get up (sometime between 04:00 and 05:00). Getting sorted involved little more than cleaning my teeth and putting in my contact lenses, as I was already fully dressed. The windscreen was misted up, but it soon became apparent that Martin had already gone.

I drove back to the same parking place we had used the previous night, and parked up and joined Martin.

Thankfully, we had the place to ourselves. In truth we were there a little early (the sun had yet to come up, although it was quite light). We waited and watched or searched and searched or watched and waited. We had perhaps been there for about an hour (and the sun had emerged above the skyline to the east) before it all happened.

Suddenly, I saw some leaves of a sycamore move in a way which had to involve something bigger than the Sedge Warbler or Chiffchaff that were singing in the garden. Suitably alerted, I then picked up on a movement of a bird which had to be ‘it’ as it flitted to the left through the canopy of the sycamore. Then, almost instantaneously ‘it’ suddenly broke cover and flew out of the garden. Cue massive relief and also, from me, a loud shout of, “Martin!”

Coincidentally or not, this apparently had the effect of causing the bird to change its mind and fly back into cover, having flown out over the road, and given me brief but excellent flight views. More predictably Martin was quickly at my side, and I talked him through what I had seen.

He patiently listened to my blow-by-blow account and then cut to the chase and checked out the north-western facing edge of the garden and commendably relocated it, perched low down just inside the fence-line.

We both enjoyed good binocular views before it suddenly made another foray out of the garden. Presumably this garden (which had the best cover) was the better place for roosting, but other nearby gardens in the valley to the southwest offered more sheltered places for feeding.

However, en route it helpfully stopped off on a relatively nearby local power transmission line, where it memorably showed in full view, in perfect light and at more or less eye-level for some minutes, allowing both Martin and I to enjoy very good ‘scope views.

I even started drawing it (although I later regretted not attempting some record shots of it). This ‘moment’ involved what were very definitely our best views. Just how long it remained there is no longer clear – but was probably just a couple of minutes or so. Similarly, just why it flew off to the garden where Martin and I had unknowingly ‘relocated’ it the previous evening is not known but it certainly coincided with the arrival of a car full of birders which pulled up on the adjacent roadside.

Martin and I ‘scoped the bird in the garden in the valley below from the A865 and then walked down towards it and continued to do the same, although by that time the car full of birders was already there. Their presence was less than helpful, as they used the car as a hide but perhaps edged too close to the bird and prevented us getting on it very easily as it moved around in the bushes and on the fences and walls on the boundaries of the large and otherwise bare garden. It subsequently emerged that they had all ‘slept’ in the car overnight (which explained their reluctance to get out of the car) and were presumably having a last look at the cuckoo before leaving to catch the morning ferry back to Uig.

Once they had left, Martin and I continued to have good, if intermittent, views of the bird, mainly in the bushes and on the fence on the rear boundary of the garden. The bird was mobile and could be elusive but we had had really good views, and as such we were relaxed, and regarded these additional views as a bonus. We chatted to the man who lived in the house when he came out to walk his two boisterous dogs, and he again invited us to go into the garden if we wanted to.

Subsequently we lost the bird, and so wandered further along the road towards the Struan House bed and breakfast where we chatted to a woman who was a guest there, and relocated the bird in the garden (i.e., the one with the yellow spot in the image included here). It was all very chilled.

Finally, at around about 09:00 we eventually left, having had very good relaxed views, and having decided we weren’t going to get any better. Coffee and breakfast were now the priority.... .

All in all, the twitch was truly fantastic experience, and involved a completely fantastic tick; not one that I ever really expected to catch up with.

Although I had previously seen Black-billed Cuckoo in Texas, it appeared somewhat smaller than I expected, being about Mistle Thrush size (though involving a smaller body and longer tail). I was belatedly struck by similarities with bee-eaters, especially in flight, but also at times when perching. The upperparts were a broadly concolourous mid-brown, and the under-parts were white, with a sharply defined boundary between the two running from the base of the bill, just underneath the eye, and on the sides of the neck to the back. The tail was perhaps the most distinctive feature, and was almost as long as the body and head, with a graduated end. The under-side of the tail involved pale rounded tips to the feathers which produced a subtle chequered pattern as the lengths of the tail feathers varied. The eye was black and surrounded by a vivid red eye-ring. The bill was reasonably stout and down-curved and dark grey, though the base and lower mandible may have been lighter grey.

Interestingly, when it was perched on the overhead wires back on, I noted that the larger remiges had a subtle two tone colouration, possibly analogous with iridescence. This is similarly apparent in the photograph which is why it was ‘selected’.

Also interestingly, the cuckoo was often ‘gently’ mobbed by Meadow Pipits (and also a Reed Bunting). How did they know it was a cuckoo?

As suggested, fantastic times...... . Further galvanised in my quest for 500!

 White’s Thrush – Baltasound Junior High School, Baltasound, Unst, Shetland, 20^th October 2015

"There!! Right in front of you!!!" An attempt to capture the mad frenzy of flashing black and white and spangled olive-gold mega-excitement of the White's Thrush breaking cover.

This account is entirely based on a ‘Finders in the Field’ account I prepared for RBA immediately after we had found the bird. As such, the account is replicated here in its entirety.

As I have ‘matured’ I have increasingly become convinced about the importance of happenstance; the (fortunate) coincidence of time and place.

..... a few years ago Ken Shaw (who I had long known having lived and birded in Scotland since 1992) moved to Queensferry, with which I have always been associated since my move to Scotland.

Obviously, as fellow birders, we regularly met up in one of the hostelries in 'The Ferry' to imbibe beers and share stories.

In addition, this happy coincidence allowed me to continue my quest to regain my work life balance now my daughters are teenagers and once I finally realised as a sole trader I (and not my clients) was in control of what I do when.

So, in both October 2013 and 2014 I accompanied Ken on visits to the Scillies, so visiting these magical islands for the first time since the 1990s. Better still, these trips involved staying on St. Agnes and doing some proper birding with some proper birders, and so making new friends such as Paul French, Jonny Holliday and Chris Pendlebury.

Move forward to 2015 and for reasons way too complex to explain there were no plans for the Scillies this autumn. Rather Ken sorted a Shetland double header which involved us being on Fair Isle for some eight days and the Unst for seven days. Two different crews. Very different places and very different birding. Again, I was visiting Shetland for the first time since the 1990s.

Fair Isle was fantastic – even more so than I had remembered or anticipated. The Obs was even more comfortable than before, and the Obs staff, and, in particular, the incredibly keen (in every sense) assistant wardens Ciaran Hatsell and Lee Gregory were brilliant. And the birding? Well too many good birds to mention, so I will just say Lanceolated Warbler.

So, well set up by Fair Isle (and also Mainland Shetland) we rendezvoused with new crew members Paul Collin and Rory Whytock and travelled to Unst on Monday the 17th October. Here we were staying in the incredible Noosthamar a.k.a. 'The Shetland Nature Lodge'.

The 18th was basically a familiarisation day with a guided tour of some of the best sites courtesy of Ken, and some half decent birds for Unst in October including Shoveler, Osprey and Kestrel.

The 19th was more of the same, and we managed to find more good birds including Glaucous Gull, Richard's Pipit and Bluethroat. This was the last day of an extended period of easterly or calm weather.

We secretly dreaded the days of westerlies and rain forecasted but certain of our number held out hope in the form of the 'switch' in weather patterns......

The earlier part 20th seemed to bear out our concerns as it was 'more of the same but less' in terms of our regular indicators of bird movements, Chiffchaff, Blackcap and Yellow-browed Warbler; still around but in comparatively small numbers. There had been a clear out.

Late on the 19th Ken had re-discovered the shelter belt plantation near the high school in Baltasound. We noted that various small pre-roost flocks of Redwing and Starling plus Fieldfare, Brambling and Chaffinch were associated with this relatively sheltered small mixed woodland.

In one of those happenstance moments after we had visited one or two of the 'usual' places on our daily round with little or no success none of us argued when Ken suggested we checked out the high school again. Fortunately it was half-term, so birding here, a site that is out-of-bounds during school hours, was fair game.

Not that we had much success, at least initially. We jointly and variously circumnavigated the plantation with no success and so the others wandered along the road.

Meanwhile, as is my wont, I 'went in' confirming if, nothing else, that the plantation was a well-used roost site as I pushed my way through the stunted Sitka spruce.

If I flushed something bigger than the usual suspects I was blissfully unaware so I absentmindedly followed the others, making my way to the nearby road. As I did so I was aware of a distant car moving closer on the road and then I heard a shout from broadly the same direction.

Somehow my brain managed to associate the two and in a very un-Unst way I assumed that some irate motorist had shouted abuse at one of my birding colleagues.

Only when Ken shouted basically the same advice again did my brain begin to engage. Anyone who knows Ken will know he can whisper across a ploughed field and it became apparent that I (and anyone else in Baltasound) was being advised of a White's Thrush....!!!

As I made it to the edge of the road I could see Ken making his way back towards me and the plantation, and Paul and Rory were also returning.

Garbled explanations revealed that both Paul and Rory and then Ken had seen a White's Thrush in flight and it had flown towards the plantation, presumably after being kicked out of it by me!

We made our way back, me staying in the school grounds rather than clambering out of them and the others going around the other side of the plantation. I was in shock; I needed White's Thrush, and having flushed it I was the only one who hadn't seen it!!

This was relatively quickly sorted as the presence of the others on the opposite side of the plantation briefly flushed the bird out to my side where it fleetingly perched just a few metres away giving me non-bins views of the underwing and undertail patterns as it alighted before it almost instantly dived back into the deep cover. My abiding impression though was the size of the beast.

Poor views. Not tick-able. Shock levels increasing.

Then, worse, as I edged forward and peered into the dark under-storey Rory shouted again as it flew out of the deepest, thickest part of the plantation and dashed into the other end behind me. Aaargh!!

We assembled on the conveniently situated boardwalk through the marsh in the school grounds, and assembled our thoughts. As I had mobile reception Ken used my ‘phone to alert island birders, and I used it to ‘phone the RBA hotline.

I was gaga by now. Any real mega finds I have been involved with have always been abroad. So this is what a real find feels like. Confused emotions, unsatisfactory views of a real skulker, my colleagues having had much better flight views and or having seen 28 or something in the UK (Ken) or loads in Asia (Paul). Would I see it again?

Well armed reinforcements quickly arrived in the form of Brydon Thomason and Micky Maher complete with camera gear. They were quickly briefed. Then we waited. And waited. We probably didn't wait that long but it certainly felt like yonks..... .

Rory had seen just were the bird had dived back into cover but no amount of peering into the dark plantation produced any hint of our bird. Ultimately Paul, very experienced with the species in Asia, began to believe it might that it had somehow darted away from the cover of the plantation without us seeing it. After all, the plantation was less than 60 m in length and perhaps 10 m or 5 or 6 rows of trees wide at one end tapering away to nothing at the other. It was also comprised of small (less than 5 m tall) stunted Sitka spruce with a few broadleaves amongst them. Surely 6 of us couldn't lose it in there could we? But conversely surely 6 of us should have been able to locate it in there?

Eventually, we decided that without a ‘walk through’ it was unlikely it would be seen again. Ken and Paul slowly walked through from the thinner end of the plantation. As they did so suddenly there it was again in flight, flying fast past each of us as we watched from our respective vantage points. In what was probably less than 30 or 45 seconds it was watched variously circumnavigating the plantation, landing very briefly and also flying off towards nearby gardens before abandoning that idea and returning back to the safety of the deepest refuges of the plantation.

We all had reasonably good flight views and some of us also had brief views of it perched up. Brydon and Micky spectacularly managed to bang off a few record shoots. Personally, besides the size and sheer presence of the bird my abiding memory was of the amazing upper tail pattern as it flew directly away from me towards the gardens; not just the pale outer tail margins but also the amazing dark centres of the upper tail.

We all convened for further mutual congratulation and self-congratulation. Elation was the predominant emotion.

However, it quickly emerged on inspection of the back of the camera shots that the bird had a significant amount of breast feathering missing, and worse, there was a large, fresh flesh wound possibly inflicted by a cat. On realising this we all agreed fundamentally the bird should be left alone and to push the bird again was not an option, either that day or the following one.

All a bit of a sad conclusion but ‘wow' remains my overall feeling.

Brian Minshull, Ken Shaw, Paul Collin and Rory Whytock

White's Thrush, Unst, Shetland, (© Brydon Thomason Shetland Nature)

White's Thrush, Unst, Shetland. In the photo on the right you can see the missing feathers. (© Brydon Thomason Shetland Nature)

Just over 35% of all British White's Thrush records have been on Shetland. More rarity stats in our Previous Records Database

Accepted BBRC and IRBC up to 2013. More rarity stats in our Previous Records Database 

The following year we returned to Unst (with a series of different crews) and on the 7th October we saw another White’s Thrush at Skaw, very well.