White-winged Scoter – off Murcar Links Golf Course, Blackdog, Aberdeenshire, 30^th June 2016

White-winged Scoter, off Murcar, Aberdeenshire, June 2016, attempting to illustrate the subtleties of i.d., especially when asleep on a lumpy sea!

Having bided my time (given it was found on Saturday the 25th June 2016) I banged in the 'deglandi' (er, that is, saw the (American) White-winged Scoter.....) the following Thursday.

I had bided my time as I had various commitments at the weekend and earlier in the week, but also as I was conveniently working on the Moray Reinforcement Pipeline Project in Aberdeenshire and was travelling there on Wednesday the 29th June, so it had seemed best to wait.

So, as it would have been rude not to, as was commented whilst I was there, I went after work on Thursday the 30th June.

I was increasingly hacked off at work, so I gradually hatched my plan, and left at around about 16:00 hours.

I travelled cross-country, avoiding the rush-hour A96 and A90 / Aberdeen by-pass and reasonably successfully navigating my way to the A90 north of Aberdeen. I struggled to decide whether I needed to take the A90 further north or south towards Aberdeen. Eventually I opted for the latter, and then misguidedly turned off into Blackdog. Here I consulted my mobile and realised I needed to continue further towards Aberdeen to find the Murcar Links Golf Course road. This I successfully did, and once there I parked up and assembled my gear and marched off north along the track through the Murcar golf course, as the RBA App suggested.

All a bit too literally though. I continued north, rather than diverted east as I realised I should have done on the way back. Eventually this track allowed me just to cross (carefully and respectably) one hole of the golf course to the sand-dunes, from where I had a good view out over a further sand-dune ridge, and the nearby North Sea. And lots of distant scoter, etc..

The trouble was, between the sand-dunes I was on, and the next ridge of sand-dunes was an intervening valley with a burn and dense reed-bed to traverse.

I continued north along the dunes, and then clambered down and along the steep eroding face of these dunes to the burn which I eventually crossed close to the point at which it reached the beach. Then I returned south across the beach and then onto and along the seaward sand-dune ridge. Once opposite the huge rafts of scoter I selected a suitable viewing point and erected my tripod and mounted my telescope, and scanned and scanned and scanned.

Initially this produced good views of huge numbers of Common Scoter, plus a range of other ducks, etc.. Eventually, as I got my eye in, and realised that the Velvet Scoter were mainly in small groups which tended to be further out. It was very hard work given the huge numbers of scoters Murcar in June / July involves and the range the flocks were at, and the sea state. And a jogger running along the beach helped not, as he flushed large numbers of birds, including many of the scoters........ .

I tried very hard but failed. I had seen no one (apart from golfers) nearby so as I contemplated what to do and opted to move further south along the sand-dunes and view from there (or leave!) I was somewhat surprised to find an update suggested the object of my quest was ‘still there’ at 18:00. Eh?

I was flummoxed. It was now c.19:00 and I had been there for at least an hour (and much more perhaps) and had seen no one.

I made my way south along the dune ridge and in doing so suddenly happened upon (to use a quaint expression) a couple, familiar from Fair Isle, who were grilling the flock from a point some few hundred metres south of where I had been.

What’s more, they had it, or at least, had had it.... .

But the fact that they had had it was fantastic news, which gave me renewed optimism.

Could he / we re-locate it? We gave it a good go, but struggled, and struggled really badly in my case. However, with commendable persistence he re-located it, and then managed to get me onto it. This was some achievement in both regards, and by me as well as him (though massive respect to him for his efforts!).

I slowly got my eye in on the bird in question, and once I had done it became somewhat easier to (lose and) re-locate the bird. Very often it was resting ‘with its head under its wing’ which made it all the harder to identify. Well, that is, until I realised that even when it was ‘at rest’ the exposed white wing patch was way more pronounced than it was on the few Velvet Scoters adopting the same pose.

So despite the birds’ un-cooperative behaviour (it was sleeping a lot of the time), etc., it was very rewarding eventually seeing the bird, and then, when the couple left, having it to myself and keeping on it, and then, finally, getting someone else who arrived later on it.

In addition to the highly distinctive wing flash when at rest, and despite the rolling sea and thronging mass of scoters, the views I obtained were good enough to see the pinky bill hues, the appropriately-shaped bill bump, the extensive white ‘lick’ back from the eye and nicely contrasting brown flanks, all of which enabled a useful (and reassuring) comparison with Velvet Scoter.

So ultimately, I was very happy, after a less than happy day at work.

And all the more so once I was back at my guest house in Huntly. Here I researched the status of White-winged Scoter. I belatedly realised that it now had full species status and that I had just had another tick!!!!

Subsequently, further audiences with White-winged Scoters in Shetland and Fife followed as birders got to grips with the i.d. of the split species (i.e., both White-winged and Stejneger’s).

White-winged Scoter, off Murcar, Aberdeenshire, June 2016 (photograph credited to Kris Gibb).

Lesser Grey Shrike – Great Wakering, Essex, 22^nd August 1989

What’s this???? Minshull twitches a Lesser and is successful? Yes thanks, although it would have been far better without the military intervention.

Sunday the 27th August 1989 saw me on another twitch from St. Albans with Mike Thompson and Pete Ewer. This involved us travelling out into the wilds of the Essex marshes beyond Southend-on-Sea and Great Wakering. Here a Lesser Grey Shrike had been for the past ten days. The only problem was that it was extremely distant, in a location bordering a military danger zone.
After winning a spot the dot competition dissatisfaction with the view lead to persistence beyond the call of duty.

We encircled the birds’ position and eventually it surrendered to one of the scouts. Despite the range good views were achieved, allowing the diagnostic features of the plumage to be ‘scoped, including the wrap around black mask, wide white secondary flash, pink flush(?) on the breast, etc..

Not the best of views of what was still evidently a stunning bird.

This was rectified in September 1994 when my ex- Gillian and I got very good views of one at Elie in Fife.

Two less than prize-winning images of my second Lesser Grey Shrike near Elie, Fife in September 1994.

 Oriental Pratincole – Gimingham, Norfolk, 22^nd May 1993

A well-watched bird, well-watched....... .

I had been determined to avoid a potential bad miss, so I had driven from South Queensferry to Leigh after finishing work on the Forties Crude Export Expansion Project in Dalmeny on the afternoon of Friday the 21st May 1993. I’d arranged a lift from Leigh to Gimingham in Norfolk with Paul Pugh, et al., for the next day. By this time the bird had been around for a week....... .

Having departed work in my little AMEC works van at 14:40, I made surprisingly good progress and arrived in Leigh at 18:40. Here I was informed by Janine that Paul wasn’t going.... .

Less than helpful. I could have driven for four or more hours south on the A1 instead, and I was just in my noisy little Ford Escort van. Annoyed more than somewhat, I continued on, and on, via Dad’s in Chesterfield and through the night to Cromer in Norfolk and a chicken kebab. Then I continued on to Gimingham, where, after looking for the venue in the dark, I opted to park in a lane near the hospital. It was now 00:20 on the very early morning of the 22nd May. Whether I slept much is not recalled, but four hours later I was up and soon afterwards I was at the scene, as evidenced by some 15 or so cars and 20 or 30 birders in a field.

The bird was already showing in the nearby potato field, but as I was looking into the light and looking much further away than the bird actually was, I struggled at first. It was standing on a ridge in the potato field, standing somewhat static in the dawn light, giving good views but it was not exactly dynamic, apart from a few sudden flurries of activity as it shuffled its plumage.

A move by some of the watching gallery of birders produced excellent views. Slowly more birders arrived and slowly the bird became more and more animate, and I obtained better and better views of a storming bird. As the bird made its most distant foray over the field directly opposite the ‘car-park’ the gallery surged. Thus, when it returned to the potato field, I was in pole position. At this point Mike Thompson arrived but he was too embarrassed to stand with me as this would have involved standing in front of the birders behind me.

It had taken me five hours to get decent views in flight. Mike arrived and saw it well on the ground for five minutes, and then it, playing its audience to the optimum, decided to fly up and over the gallery, to perform over the horse paddock. Fantastic. It was my preference to think of it being from the Dutch East Indies rather than being Dutch. A class act.

After enjoying the circus, I retreated for a well-earned breakfast.

So, after Collared Pratincole in Turkey, much better views of an obvious pratincole (by far the rarest, but my first).

In flight it had slow, deliberate wing-beats, like a tern display flight. It had coppery brown under-wing coverts, and a mid-brown upper-wing with darker primaries and secondaries. There was no pale trailing edge to the wing. It had a short black forked tail, and white rump and under-tail coverts and belly.

It had mid-brown upper-parts and lighter redder mid-brown under-parts. It also had a black face mask and surround to the buff-white throat part. The bill was black with a bright red base to the lower mandible. The legs were also black. The eye was black with a white lower eyelid.

I saw it again some weeks later when it had taken up residence near Burnham Norton, and I was visiting North Norfolk and staying with the Mostyn’s with my ex-, Gilly, Gary and Debbie Hitchen and Mike, and Susie Pearson.

Oriental Pratincole at Gimingham, Norfolk, May 1993(photograph credited to unknown).

Oriental Pratincole at Gimingham, Norfolk, May 1993(photograph credited to Rob Wilson).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I am getting ahead of myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I’d seen the swamp thing.

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

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

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

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

 

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

Brutalist sketch of a hulking brute. male Pine Crossbill.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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