Tibetan Sand Plover – Rimac, Lincolnshire, 14^th May 2002

On the night of the 11th May 2002, a Saturday, my ex- Gillian and I were out with our friends Graham Clark and Christine Reid in Edinburgh, taking advantage on the opportunity to do so as my Mum was visiting and therefore baby-sitting. Early on, on what proved to be a very long night of excessive eating, drinking and partying, news of Greater Sand Plover became news of a Lesser Sand Plover* on the MegaAlert..... .

(* Clearly, sand plovers were reinvented since this account was written way back when, and what was Lesser Sand Plover became Siberian Sand Plover and Tibetan Sand Plover - the bird in question here - in 2023).

There was no immediate response from either Graham or I as we couldn’t do anything about it there and then, and we were having a good time. And soon afterwards we were too pissed, and as a result not capable of even thinking about the following day, Sunday the 12th May. That day I couldn’t even get my act together to go to Aberlady Bay for Kentish Plover, a Scottish tick, let alone Rimac, in far-away Lincolnshire for Lesser Sand Plover.

So, on Monday the 13th May, as usual, I was back to work, flying down from Edinburgh to London Heathrow, on this occasion armed with binoculars.

On arrival at Bechtel I 'phoned Mike Thompson to investigate any remote possibility of going with him, but he explained that he had pre-empted the transformation of the bird from a Greater to a Lesser on the Saturday when he primed Pete Ewer about the Greater Sand Plover, and as such had twitched it successfully on Sunday with Pete and Angela.

The pressure was on, but my head still not clear enough to make any definitive plans, now due to a lack of sleep caused by a further curtailed night of sleep, this time caused by the girls and my early flight, rather than drink.

I did though place an e-mail request for a lift on the Surfbirds website and then with Rare Bird Alert. Later, at c.13.00 I received a message relating to my lift required on the pager. However, unfortunately the only response was from Graham telling me that he was now intending to travel from Edinburgh to Lincolnshire on Monday night on his way to Norfolk and then Hertfordshire before his next trip. Neither of us could think of a way of combining his trip south to Lincolnshire with mine north. I asked him to give me a report from the scene though.

I returned to my flat in St. Albans that evening to find a message on the answerphone from Mike offering use of his spare birding equipment. He urged me to put another request for a lift on the pager that night, but I still hadn't defined a strategy beyond taking my binoculars with me to work the following morning.

I had though researched train times and so I resolved that once I had news on the Tuesday morning, I would negotiate a ‘day pass’ and make my way to Cleethorpes by train, if nothing else offered itself.

As I left the flat that morning at 06:30 my mobile went off and I answered to find that it was my ‘reporter on the spot’ telling me he too had just seen it. The pressure was really on now as Graham had caught up with it, as well as Mike and Pete!

I continued on my way to work, contemplating opting out and going straight to Kings Cross and getting the first train to Cleethorpes. Almost, but not quite.... .

Still in a quandary, I reached work and resolved to confront the issue, even if it involved taking a day off. I broached the issue with Ian ?????? (the senior engineer with responsibility for the environmental cohort) first who basically said ‘go for it’ and then with Clifton Schindel (my direct line-manager, a very young American ‘boy’ environmental engineer with whom I often clashed) second. Given the lack of workload at the time, he too was reasonably positive, surprisingly so.

I put out another lift request on the pager, this time after 'phoning Andrew Raines at Rare Bird Alert, and whilst I waited for the resultant calls, investigated train times again.

However, then it dawned on me that Bechtel had a travel section on the ground floor and perhaps, given the logistics of getting a train / taxi and taxi train and the problematic lack of lifts offered, hiring a car was the way to go.

I quickly made my way there and explained my predicament to the main person in the office. He assigned one of his staff, Jo, to the case and although she had just arrived at work, we very quickly agreed that my best option would be to hire a small car from Europcar in Brentford on Bechtel rates, with the option of returning it to Luton Airport. Given the £55 train fare, the charges seemed reasonable and so I committed myself, and Jo confirmed the arrangements with Europcar.

After a quick change of clothes into what passed for birding gear amongst the meagre selection of non-office clothes I retained in my flat in St. Albans, I bade my colleagues at Bechtel goodbye. At c.09:10 I hailed a taxi to take me from Hammersmith Broadway to Gillette Corner on Great West Road, the A4 through Brentford. Lovely! The taxi driver and I found the Europcar offices with reasonable ease, and some 40 minutes before the arranged time of 10:00 I arrived at the Europcar offices to collect my Renault Clio.

This all went reasonably well, with the result that well before 10:00 I was on my way to Lincolnshire from West London.

The only drawback was that Europcar were unable to provide any sort of road map and so I navigated all the way there, using my geographers / birders intuition and a tiny road map in my diary.

I made good time and arrived some 3.5(?) hours after leaving West London. Unfortunately, as I made my way off the Lincolnshire Wolds towards the coast the pager announced that the Lesser Sand Plover had been lost.

This increased my velocity to new levels, despite me noticing the increased number of speed cameras abounding in rural Eastern England since I last drove there.

I arrived at the Rimac carpark, with its memories of a similar dash to see Alpine Accentor, and in less time than usual assembled my gear, as I had none. What I did have consisted of my bins, mobile ‘phone, pager and a pen and paper. Otherwise, I was totally ill-equipped, particularly given the imminent yomp across coastal Lincolnshire’s salt-marshes and mudflats.

As I walked out from the car-park towards the mudflats I asked an elderly couple coming the other way whether ‘it’ had been relocated. The answer was in the negative, and he explained that birders were fanning out across the flats looking for it.

As I got further out, I could see what he meant, because away in the distance to the south I could see 20 – 30 birders spread across the beach like tiny matchstick figures.

I made my way towards them, not particularly quickly, but as I did so it became apparent that the scattered wanderings were slowly beginning to coalesce at one point. That was enough for me, and so the pace of my walking increased. After 20 – 25 minutes I was with the crowd and able to pick the target out, just, with my binoculars. The assembled gallery was now c.30 strong and ranged in a loose curve around the wader flock at c.50 – 60 m range.

Considerations of light and wind direction came into it, but despite this I had plumped for a position centrally within the gallery, looking south and with a very strong cross-wind.

However, these were relatively minor considerations given that by chance I had positioned myself to a birder who was very generous with his ‘scope. I had been looking at the bird with my binoculars, finding it relatively easy to pick out, owing to its stance and relatively pale plumage, when he tapped me on my arm, and invited me to use his ‘scope.

He had obviously realised my predicament and as such exercised his Yorkshire generosity by offering me the frequent use of his ‘scope. And what a ‘scope it was! It was Kowa TSN fluorite ‘scope, which gave stunning clarity despite the difficult viewing conditions. It was so windy that soon after this arrangement commenced two adjacent ‘scopes and tripods blew over and fell into the estuarine sediments!

The bird was reasonably close, but due to the proximity of the ranged birders and the windy conditions, the accompanying Ringed Plovers and Dunlins were somewhat flighty. I was relatively easily able to follow the sand plovers’ movements with my bins, but embarrassingly it was sometimes a struggle identifying its’ companion species in terms of giving directions once the bird had moved. A prominent ‘breast-on’ Ringed Plover thus became a Lapwing as all the waders looked dark in the light conditions and size / scale was not immediately apparent.

Anyway, my directions to the sand plover in terms of it being ‘next to the Lapwing’ caused mutterings from to young lads next to me. Shortly afterwards, when I explained to my ‘scope companion that I was working on a Project in Azerbaijan, Georgia and Turkey, and as yet hadn’t seen the Caspian, let alone birds in that region such as Lesser Sand Plover, the murmurings started again, I assume because they made the assumption I was getting confused with Caspian Plover. The old birding aggression welled up, but fortunately I quelled it and concentrated on the bird.

The views through the ‘borrowed’ ‘scope got better and better, and as the bird moved around us, so the light got better and the sand plover got closer. By now we were working in tandem, my companion would use his ‘scope for a few minutes whilst I used my bins and attempted to sketch the bird, and then I would have a look at it through his ‘scope for a minute or so. After some 15 – 20 minutes of this, someone nearby called the ‘scope owner by name, and after a delayed reaction caused by lack of memory power and the photo-reactive glasses he was wearing I realised I knew him. It was Kris from Yorkshire who I had last met when I gave him a lift on North Uist when Graham and I had twitched the Long-tailed Shrike! He was mightily impressed that we should met up again like this and so the craich was even better, culminating in me being given a sausage butty shortly before they left! We exchanged contact details and then said our goodbyes and they departed, apparently because my ‘scope sharing mate wanted to go back to Potteric Carr where he was warden to gloat to one of his colleagues about seeing the Lesser Sand Plover!

Anyway, back to the bird and birding.

I readjusted my position, and once again fortuitously struck lucky by inadvertently standing next to another birder willing to share his very good ‘scope with me. This time he was from my side of the Pennines, but equally keen to share the experience. He had his tripod set as low as possible and despite having to kneel down in the silty-sands of the beach to view, this and the fact that the bird was closer than ever meant that the views were very good.

More birders had drifted away by now, and perhaps for this reason the waders (and the sand plover in particular) were as close as they had been throughout my stay. I took full advantage of another generous Northern birder and used his ‘scope to get my best views. During this time the bird moved to within 20 m of the nearest small group of birders / photographers / digiscopers.

I decided that that was the place to be and moved from my position to theirs, helped by the fact that an absolutely massive bloke was doing the same and shielded me totally from view. Once there, I obviously got the best binocular views I had.

As a rain shower appeared to be heading our way, fast, I decided to quit whilst I was ahead, and so walked back to the Rimac car-park a very happy birder. I was thrilled to have re-discovered ‘spontaneous’ twitching and so enjoyed the walk through interesting coastal habitats all the more recounting the day’s events as I went.

The bird was obviously very reminiscent of the two previous Greater Sand Plovers I had seen, certainly in terms of structure, shape and plumage. However, it also had certain, subtle but definite characteristics which made it stand out as a ‘Lesser’.

Firstly, my binocular views. The bird was obviously bigger and bulkier than the accompanying Ringed Plovers and could be easily picked out by a combination of this appearance and its paler plumage. Obviously, my binocular views were best for picking out jizz-related characteristics. Besides the size and structure, I noted that the bird appeared front-heavy, and as a consequence appeared to, ‘totter forwards a few paces before stopping and pecking at the sand’. This pattern of movement was constant, apart from when it occasionally flew a few tens of metres. It was apparent that there was some truth in the adage about three or four paces compared to the Greater Sand Plovers eight or nine or so. In flight it again was an obvious plover, with a broadish white wing-bar showing in flight as it wheeled around from one place to the next. Also apparent with binoculars was the predominance of white plumage at the stubby looking rear-end of what was a dumpy looking bird. The legs were long and apparently black, and even at this range the bill looked like a far more delicate affair than that of the preceding Greater Sand Plovers. With such views it was difficult to make out any of the subtleties of its plumage, beyond the white underparts, separated by an orangey breast band and a darker face mask around the eye and apparently between the eye and bill. The upperparts were a light grey-brown.

With the borrowed ‘scopes (and particularly the second one when the bird was closer) at least some of the subtleties of the plumage and the Lesser v. Greater Sand Plover i.d. criteria could be discerned. The orange breast band was clearly defined at its interface with the white throat patch but merged into the white belly. Equally, the throat patch had a clearly defined edge where it reached the facial pattern. This comprised an ‘eye-shadow’ effect mask, an off white supercilium and an otherwise light dull grey-brown cheek patch and cap. There was some darker feathering around and, in particular, in front of the eye but the ‘mask’ was a deceptively variable feature. The upperparts were all grey brown and relatively uniform, although there was an apparent darker line caused by the structure of the folded wing, approximating to the edge of the scapulars and inner wing coverts. The upperparts feathers appeared old and evenly worn. The folded flight feathers appeared slightly darker, in particular, the leading edge of the visible primaries. Similarly, the darker tip to the tail was often visible against the pure white undertail coverts / outer tail feathers. The legs, bill and eye were all black. The legs were long-looking in comparison to Ringed Plover, and the upper tarsus was apparent, as was a bulge at the leg-joint. However, the birds front-heavy pot-bellied appearance made it appear to have not particularly long legs. The bill was Ringed Plover like, rather than Grey Plover like as with Greater Sand Plover.

In flight the wing-bar was obvious, and was broad and parallel on the inner wing, whilst it tapered to a point on the outer wing. As such, it was far more obvious on the inner wing. No indication of feet overlapping the tail could be discerned from the flight views obtained. The tail pattern was not recorded.

Overall, it was a far more ‘delicate’ bird than the more robust looking Greater Sand Plovers I have seen. It was reminiscent of one of the Nearctic plover species (Piping Plover?) in terms of size, structure and appearance. A cracking bird!  

Lesser Sand Plover, Rimac, Lincolnshire, May 2002 (all photographs credited to Graham Catley).

American Herring Gull – Garrygall, Barra, Outer Hebrides, 17^th April 2016

Calum Scott and I had been ‘planning’ a night out for a catch-up over some beers forever, and it had just never happened. I had texted him on Tuesday the 5th April 2016, soon after returning from my trip to North Uist for the Gyr Falcon, to chase him up about the same, and also to enquire whether he had any plans to go to see the American Herring Gull and White-billed Diver on Barra.

For what were to become understandable reasons (he and his Dad had been struggling with his Mum’s ill-health) Calum didn’t respond to my text, or at least not until Thursday the 14th April, when he texted me asking whether I, ‘fancied that beer tonight’.

As I was driving back from a couple of days away, involving meetings in both Inverness and at SNH Battleby, near Perth, I failed to respond.

Also, as, due to my travels I was tired, I intended having my tea and then ‘phoning Calum to decline his kind offer, but propose we do so on another occasion. However, just as I was sitting down to my tea Calum ‘phoned me. I explained my situation and he agreed that he wouldn’t be too keen to go out under similar circumstances. However, he then suggested he was making plans to go to Barra, and, in effect, I invited myself along. Calum explained the complications with the CalMac ferries and also indicated he had made arrangements with friends to stay with them on the island, so he indicated that he would have to check out that they were okay with an extra guest.

So, all of a sudden, it looked quite likely I was off on another Hebridean twitch! Calum and I liaised over the next day or so, and we both monitored the CalMac website about sailing times. Finally it was resolved that we would catch the Saturday sailing at around 13:00, enabling a sensible departure from Edinburgh for Oban. Also, Calum informed me that he had successfully negotiated with Bruce and Kathy Taylor for an extra guest...... .

Game on! Calum picked me up at just after 09:00 on Saturday the 16th April, and we then had an uneventful journey to Oban, where we parked up, walked to the ferry terminal, purchased our ferry tickets and then lunched on the front in Oban having visited the ‘seafood shack’ near the ferry terminal.

We also walked to the Tesco's store and service station and purchased a large amount of bottled beer and wine (plus a 5 litre fuel plastic storage can for Bruce) and then returned to the ferry terminal, before we took turns to go back to Calum’s car and bring our rucksacks back. Finally, we had both assembled everything we were taking with us to Barra, and so we then moved into the waiting lounge area before we finally boarded to Clansman.

The crossing from Oban to Castlebay, like the journey from Edinburgh to Oban, was large uneventful; whilst on deck Calum and I managed a White-tailed Eagle in the Sound of Mull and a Great Skua and Manx Shearwaters in The Minch, plus a couple of bottles each of very good beer from Colonsay, and whilst not on deck we managed a meal each in the restaurant.... . But all in all, it was ‘uneventful’... . ‘twas though, enjoyable, especially chatting to Calum and watching Barra appear in the distance and then come ever close..... .

Once the Clansman had moored, we loaded ourselves up, and disembarked, to be greeted by Bruce on the harbour-side. We loaded up the car, and then journeyed around the west side of the island and north to Eoligarry. The strategy was to check out places such as Allasdale for the American Herring Gull on the way north, and then to try for the White-billed Diver off Eoligarry ferry.

As it happened, we were unsuccessful in both cases, so we returned south to Breivig and the home of Bruce and Kathy, where we were welcomed in by Kathy and then settled in for a very convivial evening of chatting, drinking beer and wine and eating nibbles.

The following morning, having breakfasted, we journeyed south to Garrygall and (unsuccessfully) looked for the gull there, before we again continued around the west side of the island, stopping off at various places including Allasdale, where we visited the Glaucous Gull and then north to Eoligarry. Here this time, we successfully located the White-billed Diver, a Scottish tick for me. We then returned south and checked out Aird Mhor (for old times’ sake!) and then returned to Garrygall.

This time we were successful, as various Herring Gulls were hanging around the crofts there, and were accompanied by the American Herring Gull.

We watched it over the course of the next couple of hours (either side of our scheduled visit to the Co-op in Castlebay) as it effortless hung in the wind over the road and crofts, and occasionally landed on the rocky outcrops in the nearby fields.

Despite my now increasing problems with streaming eyes (I had ‘itchy’ eyes before I set off with Calum and it would appear, with hindsight, that the previous owner of Bruce and Kathy’s place had kept cats and I had what in effect, was an allergic reaction to the cat hair that probably remained) meaning I was struggling with the bright light, it rapidly became easy to pick out amongst the other gulls when in flight (though less so when on the ground).

In flight it was obviously structurally – in terms of size and shape – identical to the rest of the Herring Gulls present. However, even in the relatively bright light through streaming eyes, it was invariably ‘obvious’ as the darkest bird and was, as suggested, ‘easy’ to pick out.

In flight, as can be seen from my attempted flight shot, it had very dark (and almost uniformly so) under-wings, and a dark under-tail, together with ‘dusky’ dark under-parts, contrasting with a paler head. It also had an all dark bill. As a result, I even (stretching a point) invoked Heerman’s Gull...... .

When on the ground (and it did occasionally land and provide the chance of ‘scope views) its appearance was strangely changeable. At times it similarly appeared very dark, but equally, at other times was occasionally passed off as a 1st winter Herring Gull; its appearance was obviously variable depending on the way it was affected by light and shade, its stance, etc.. But more generally, it was a brute, sometimes appearing particularly large-headed and heavily-billed.

It had a pale head (with a faint darker ‘mask’) and a darker shawl or necklace. Its bill was all dark with perhaps a hint of a paler base. The eye was dark too. The under-parts were dusky dark and ‘smudgy’. There was dark barring on the lower belly and under-tail. The tail was all dark. The primaries were also all dark, as were the bunched tertials. The wing coverts were spangled dirty off- white with darker brown centres, and two bands comprising feathers of different ages / shades / states of coverts were apparent.

A stonking bird – very informative and instructive, and not at all a dodgy Herring Gull half-a-tick....... .

 Hume’s Warbler – Denburn Wood, Crail, Fife, 7^th November 2000

A sketch of the Hume's Warbler attempting and failing to capture just how incredibly wet and dark it was when it gave itself up.

My loan pager came good again on the 7th November 2000, just a few days after the epic Long-tailed Shrike twitch. It informed me of the presence of a Hume’s (Yellow-browed) Warbler at Denburn Wood, Crail around about the same time that my ex-, Gillian, arrived back from work and the child-minders with the girls.

I carefully negotiated permission to leave her alone with the girls again and having ‘phoned Graham Clark just in case, I departed at about 14:00. The day was truly evil, continual pouring rain and howling winds making driving ‘exciting’, to say the least. The roads were flooded in places and obstructed by branches, etc., in others. A combination of this, and the more usual tractors and learner drivers, meant that it took a good while to get to Crail and I was convinced that I would dip out as a result, as it was getting very dark by the time I reached the East Neuk reaches of Fife.

But I was buoyed up by my recent successes and consoled myself with the maxim, “If you don’t buy a ticket, you can’t win the raffle,” (or perhaps that should be the lottery).

Finally, at 15:20 I arrived at the gates of the church, and quickly gathered up my binoculars, coat, etc.. The light was very poor, and the weather was still wild, so I was not overly confident. I rushed through the graveyard and into the Denburn Wood valley and was relieved to see a small group of birders on one of the paths within the wood. Surely, they weren’t on it?

I quickly made my way to them and was ushered over as indeed they were on it. Almost instantly on arrival I was put onto the bird as it erratically worked through some low cover beyond the trees in the valley floor. Viewing conditions were dire as the light was so poor, but at least I was able to get on the bird and be reasonable sure that it was a yellow-browed warbler spp.. Almost as soon as I had seen the bird moved on, and despite my attempts to relocate it further up the valley where I guessed it might be moving to, I failed.

I thought I would be thwarted by the continuing deterioration in conditions, as my views had not been good enough to allow my conscience to count it. However, after a brief interlude during which the bird was ‘lost’, it was relocated and this time gave me vital (if brief) good views as it moved through low cover on the other side of the valley. It was below us as we stood on one of the paths and in relatively sparse cover that included a brash pile and two spindly alders. These views were indeed vital because the bird was not seen again that day.

Particularly when in the brash pile and the two spindly alders I was able to get views good enough to make something of a knee-jerk comparison to Yellow-browed Warbler. Compared to Yellow-browed Warbler it was apparently anaemic – basically like the difference between Willow Warbler and Chiffchaff. I was not able to examine the details of the plumage, etc., in any great detail, but I did see that the wing coverts, tertials, etc., were ‘less contrasty’ and that the legs and bills were darker than those of Yellow-browed Warbler.

I was extremely lucky to see this bird, and another tick, so soon after the Long-tailed Shrike twitch, and I also saw Angus Murray, Alan Lauder, etc., before leaving

The bird was still there the following day but was replaced by a Yellow-browed Warbler soon afterwards, leading to some mild confusion!    

I've not been able to locate any images of the Denburn Wood, Crail, Hume's Warbler from November 2000, so, for no reason other than it being a superb image, here's one of a bird at Doi Pha Hom Pok National Park - Ban Luang Resort on Doi Angkhang, Chiang Mai, Thailand taken on the  28th January 2017 (photograph credited to Natthaphat Chotjuckditku).

Further apologies, other tasks, scruffy notebook sketches of Slender-billed Curlew and must try harder in 2026

Shockingly, not since uploading my Blackpoll Warbler account on the 22nd October 2025 have I posted a 'new species account'.

I did, on the 4th December 2025, try to make some excuses for this inexcusable failure.

I suggested moving my social media allegiances from Twitter / X to Bluesky, becoming distracted by my attempts to collate a 'World List' and becoming a tad disillusioned by having ticks taken off me, and in particular, my continuing 'subalpine warblers' nightmare, had all conspired against me being as diligent as I once was in terms of regularly compiling, illustrating and posting my nonsense.

However, I'm pleased to report, I have now collated a vey good basis for a World List.

This has involved involved creating a huge EXCEL (which I abhor!) file. 

More specifically, it has involved inputting each species I've seen species by species (in correct systematic order as per the most recent International Ornithological Committee (IoC) checklist (http://www.worldbirdnames.org/) ) row by row, and building out from this, column by column, out from my UK list, to my Western Palaearctic list (evidencing some of my early birding trips), and then to each continent (or, more precisely, country therein) subsequently visited (North America, South America, Asia (actually only the Kuala Lumpur area of Malaysia beyond Middle Eastern countries including Turkey, Israel, Jordan and Egypt), Australasia and Antarctica, (I've not been to (sub-Sahara) Africa.

Clearly, it's not just as simple as adding trip list totals together, due to huge overlap in the range of birds - the Bar-tailed Godwits I saw in New Zealand are immaterial given I first saw them in the UK for example, despite being a bird species I saw just about as far away from the Ribble Estuary, where I saw my first, as it is possible to get.

And, given that I've birded for many decades, some species I saw years ago have been miraculously (and confusingly!) transformed into other species as a result of splitting or, at the very least, renaming.

So it's involved a LOT of trawling through old notebooks, trip lists and trip reports, creating of lists on Bubo and researching using online resources like eBird, etc., to create what I now have. However, at least now I have done the donkey work I'll never have to do it again, and the list will only improve as I work on it, and hopefully, increase as I go on more trips.

So it's been an interesting process, in many, many ways. For instance, I came across my sketch of Slender-billed Curlew in my Morocco notebook from December 1991/January 1992, and, by a quirky set of circumstances, I have ended up trading this page from my notebook (as an 'important historical record') with the fantastically talented Hungarian wildlife artist, Szabolcs Kokay, for an original work by him, as he is so fascinated with this now sadly extinct species. Not a bad deal, at least as far as I'm concerned!

It's too early to divulge anything as sordid as my World List total, but suffice to say, the exercise has done a lot to reinvigorate my interest in the same, and even made me speculate about a reasonable World List target to aim for over the next few years.

So, although I now intending continuing to improve this good draft World List (by re-visiting old notebooks, writing trip reports and creating trip lists and country lists on Bubo, and double-checking the good draft in doing so), planning and going on more big trips to increase my World List, and, in the New Year, returning to a task which I'm fascinated by (an investigation of the historical growth of both the official British and Scottish lists, and a comparison with my equivalents) I WILL get back up to speed with my blogposts in the near future.

Honest.

Seasons greetings.

Apologies, Subalpine Warbler hell, and other gripes

So. It's been a while.

I'll admit to having lost momentum, being too busy, doing too many other things (some bird-related, like attempting, retrospectively, to collate my world list) to have compiled, illustrated and posted any new 'new species accounts' for way too long.

Meanwhile, my move from Twitter / X to BlueSky (fundamentally a very good thing) has reduced 'traffic' as people are no longer necessarily aware of my postings.

I will get back up to speed, honestly. There's plenty more accounts yet to be posted.

But, I have to admit, the current taxonomic upheavals haven't helped.

How can birds which can be differentiated in the field be 'lumped' (the redpoll group) whereas others, that can't be differentiated in the field remain 'split' (the subalpine warbler group)?

As a case in point, I was very glad to take in the Levenwick 'Western Subalpine Warbler' on my visit to Shetland last autumn.

This conveniently backfilled another void in my list which had been created by the splitting of subalpine warblers, given my poor record with them. The bird had been caught and ringed, and scrutinised in the field by all-comers, and proclaimed to be a Western.

So I was suitably pleased not just to take it in, but, also, on my return home, to write it up, and arrange to post my account here (as what was my last but one account).

However, it has since emerged that the bird was (presumably on the basis of genetic material) re-identified as an Eastern Subalpine Warbler. 

D'oh!!!!!

What chance do we stand?????

So I've taken down the posting about it. And I STILL need Western Subalpine Warbler!

Collins Guide plate of Subalpine Warblers subscript: unless it's a spring male, just don't even go there.

So yes, I'm all a bit disillusioned; my listing was once a relatively simple exercise, by now it is mired in science way beyond me. Just keeping up with taxonomic changes is a full-time task on its own!

However, I will be back!

Blackpoll Warbler – Haroldswick, Unst, Shetland, 9^th October 2025

What do you mean don't go near the sea? I've just flown over hundreds of miles of the stuff!!!!!

Having successfully stayed in Northdale on Unst with Mark Wilkinson and Andy Stirrat for a week during October 2024, Chris Pendlebury and I quickly decided that we should arrange to book the place again for the week 4th – 11th October in 2025.

So, soon after we returned from Unst Chris had re-booked, and we offered Mark and Andy the first refusal for the option for joining us again.

Mark and Andy suggested they would let us know of their plans early in the New Year, which they did. They declined to join us again, as they had other plans, and so it was just Chris and I unless we could find someone else to join us.

Meanwhile, the bird that had saved my autumn 2024 seemed like a long time ago, as I endured a series of rather epic dips. Immediately after returning from Costa Rica where I saw lots of them, I dipped the Scarlet Tanager at Shelf, near Halifax on the 12th November 2024. This error was then compounded when, a few weeks later, David Steel and I decided it would be a good idea to twitch another bird I had seen lots of in Costa Rica, but disastrously, we dipped the Yellow Warbler at New Hythe, Kent on the 3rd January 2025, as the previous day proved to be the last of its long stay. And then, to round things off, I ridiculously opted not to go for the Solitary Sandpiper at the Butt of Lewis on the 12th May 2025, this despite being at Cabot Highlands (my long-term golf course development project) just outside Inverness and having time to get to Ullapool and get on the CalMac ferry as a foot passenger. Alright, I would have had to scrounge a lift to the Butt of Lewis but that would have been feasible, Al McNee, for example, successfully twitched it from Inverness. Knowing the Butt of Lewis car-park area where it was, I just couldn’t imagine it sticking around. If only it had been correctly identified the day before (he said contentiously).

Ironically, one of the people to connect with the Solitary Sandpiper was James Grundy, who had asked me for advice on visiting the Hebrides in spring with his non-birding father. And, getting back to the subject in hand, James was one of the many people I had sounded out about joining Chris and I in Northdale in October 2025.

Come October 2025, despite our best efforts to find others to accompany us, inevitably, it was just Chris and I. And, as we intended to be there on the 4th October, it was just over a year since my last tick, the Pale-legged Leaf Warbler at Bempton Cliffs, which I had successfully twitched on the 2nd October 2024.

I’m not complaining. I’d enjoyed an Isle of May week in late spring, and then I’d forgone ‘my’ week there in late-August as I’d had a better offer; instead, I’d had another ‘once in a lifetime’ trip with my very best mate Gary Hitchen (and his partner Janet Smyth) which involved visiting Ecuador and the Galapagos. Ken Shaw had effectively given me a good talking to and offered to stand in for me as group leader whilst I went to Ecuador and the Galapagos instead of the Isle of May.

Then in mid-September Andy Williams, Ken and Amanda Shaw and I had a week on Lewis for the third year in succession, but again it was a bit of a struggle.

So it was that, in early October, Chris and I prepared for another trip to Unst with mixed expectations.

Even before we’d arrived, it proved to be something of a challenging saga.

We were booked on the 19:00 overnight sailing to Lerwick from Aberdeen on Friday the 3rd October, as our Northdale booking involved a week from Saturday to Saturday. However, Storm Amy intervened, and, due to the ever-worsening forecasts, it became apparent that our sailing just would not be happening.

So it was, that (despite being as busy as ever at work) on the Thursday morning Chris had the inspired idea of us going later that day, and just getting somewhere, anywhere, to stay on the Friday night (and him finding some way of still ‘working’ on the Friday). A huge dialogue of WhatsApp messages ensued, as we discussed our options.

Ultimately, we both hurriedly changed our train bookings, and packed, and, firstly and crucially, but with some difficulty, changed our respective ferry bookings. I had ‘phoned Northlink and established it would be possible to change my booking as there was still availability, but I was advised to do so quickly, as everyone else was doing the same.

Having conferred with Chris we decided we should go for it, except now neither of us could get through on the same number I had just successfully used.

Ever adaptable, Chris WhatsApp messaged me to say that he had successfully changed his booking to the Thursday from the Friday online (even again arranging for a cabin for us), and so I did the same.

In the middle of getting ready to go to Shetland a day early someone from Northlink ‘phoned me to advise that the Friday sailing was going to be cancelled, and I advised him that I had already changed my booking accordingly…. .

Once packed I yomped from home to Dalmeny Railway Station with my (Tessa’s) rucksack. I caught an earlier train from there to Inverkeithing than the one I was scheduled to get and felt good about being ahead of the game.

However, my train from Inverkeithing to Aberdeen was somewhat delayed, and once I was on it, I began to be concerned about whether I would arrive at the ferry terminal before boarding for foot passengers was closed. I WhatsApp messaged Chris, saying, “On a train. Maybe get me there around 17:30 but was significantly delayed. What time do foot passengers need to check in by, can you remember?”

To which Chris responded, “Fuck”. Only now did it emerge that the Thursday sailing departed at 17:00 and not 19:00 like the Friday one. There was no way we were going to make it, and we both quickly decided to abandon our mission and return home. I alighted from my train at Kirkcaldy, and journey back to Inverkeithing and Dalmeny, and then yomped back home from Dalmeny Railway Station. I was shattered and dejected. Best laid plans.

Anyway, another dialogue of WhatsApp messages ensued, before we resolved to try to get on the next available sailing, which was a 17:00 on Sunday the 5th October. Once again, we changed our ferry and train bookings as necessary, though this time Chris was only able to secure us two pods rather than a cabin.

Although I realised it would be dependent on any subsequent booking, I suggested we ask Northdale if we could get the booking changed from Saturday to Saturday (as it wasn’t our fault we hadn’t been able to arrive on the appointed day). Fantastically, as a result, we were granted Monday to Monday instead of Saturday to Saturday.

All of this moved my sense of optimism further in the right direction. I had privately dreaded another windy, rainy and largely bird-free autumn week in Shetland, particularly as Chris and I would be paying twice as much for the accommodation. Equally, I knew if I didn’t go, my two prime target species, Siberian Rubythroat and Pallas’s Grasshopper Warbler would be everywhere, whereas if I did…. .

But now, what with everything that had happened, there was a sense of things coming together, like it was meant to be?

And indeed, once there, it felt really good to be back; Unst had definitely worked its way into my soul.

As ever, birding on Unst proved to be hard work in trying conditions but overall, I was happy with life on ‘our’ very windswept island.

As ever, not a lot had changed really, though the Saxaford UK Space Port and its resultant changes to the roads going out to Skaw had moved on (not necessarily in a good way) and again, access to Lamba Ness was precluded.

Favoured sites such as Clingera, Halligarth and Houlland were much the same, although there had been some excellent habitat management at Valyie, which had opened up the woodland understorey, making viewing from inside the wood much more tenable.

Sadly, a notable change was that David Cooper wasn’t working the island all day every day, as he (and Brenda) were back ‘home’ in Sussex as his father was in a bad way.

None of this made any material difference to Chris, who just walked and walked every day. As a result, he also produced, finding a Marsh Warbler and Bluethroat near Holsen’s Bridge on consecutive days, Tuesday the 7th and Wednesday the 8th October. However, this wasn’t without cost. When yomping through the marsh between Holsen’s Bridge and the Norwick Beach bus-stop, Chris had partially fallen into the burn and, as a result, his bridge camera had packed up.

In addition, Chris was having big issues getting his mobile to charge, due, as it turned out, to a dodgy cable… .

Although, necessarily, Chris and I didn’t always bird together, we did so on other occasions, and as part of this, we routinely walked the minor roads around Haroldswick in conjunction. Whilst doing so earlier on the 8th October Chris had seen a Turtle Dove adjacent to, and on, the road near the garden and allotment at Rockfield I had always fancied. However, (partly as his camera wasn’t available) Chris hadn’t nailed the Turtle Dove, and as such hadn’t necessarily ruled out Oriental Turtle Dove.

Therefore, in conjunction with Scott (and Angela) Wotherspoon we’d searched the Haroldswick area; given the episode earlier in 2025 when a ‘Turtle Dove’ seen on Unst in the spring transformed into an Oriental Turtle Dove when it reappeared in South Mainland, we were keen to get better views. We failed, but later that afternoon, Chris and I returned to have another go.

As such, I dropped Chris off near Rockfield before going to park and walk around part of our 'Haroldswick circuit' in an attempt to relocate the Turtle Dove.

No sooner had I parked near the former Victoria’s Tea Rooms than I got a WhatsApp message from Chris saying, "Help needed Rockfield". I didn’t necessarily take in whether the message was specifically for me, or was on one of the WhatsApp groups, but I quickly drove back towards where I’d dropped Chris and instead parked near the junction of the minor road and the road alongside Haroldswick Bay.

I then walked back up to Chris who was still near Rockfield. As this was where the ‘Turtle Dove’ had been, this was what I was anticipated he needed help with.

As such, when I got there I was somewhat bamboozled when Chris started telling me about what he was confident was a Blackpoll Warbler..... .

I wasn't the only one bamboozled by Chris' attempts to get the news out. As suggested, as well as his trusty bridge camera having packed up, he was labouring with a malfunctioning mobile and as such, he had only had about 2% charge left.

Hence, commendably, he’d tried to get a message, any message, out as soon as possible.

However, this had the inadvertent effect of causing almost instantaneous WhatsApp message group fuelled pandemonium. For whatever reason, Chris’ message went ‘viral’ before he had intended and caused great confusion and consternation. I'll stop there out of diplomacy's sake (but why do people who aren't even there know better than people who are?).

Anyway, very quickly afterwards, people did arrive on-site, including Dougie Preston (from Yell, on a whim, out of his experience of such things in Shetland), the very interesting Wayne Glossop, and also Robbie Brookes, Mike Pennington and Brydon Thomason, who, very gently, managed the twitch a best as he was able.

Clearly, all efforts aimed at relocating the bird concentrated on the excellent cover available in the garden and allotment at Rockfield. Indeed, Brydon liaised with the owners of Rockfield who were very amenable given the rapidly growing crowd outside their house and even suggested they had seen the bird in the hydrangeas, etc., they could see immediately outside their kitchen windows.

However, suffice to say, after Chris’s initial sighting, despite the assembled twitch, the bird wasn't seen again on the 8th October.

This meant, that that night, all sorts of agonising and doubting ensued, as Chris tried to rationalise what he had seen. He had previous experience with Blackpoll Warbler, which was good, but when the bird appeared on the fence on the opposite side of the road to the Rockfield this certainly wasn’t what he expected to see when he raised his binoculars. Given where we were, frankly, he’d expected to see, another way more like warbler species with two wing-bars, namely Yellow-browed Warbler.

And, with hindsight, as his views had been so brief, he wasn’t necessarily convinced it was ‘just’ a Blackpoll Warbler. We discussed and researched other similar American wood warblers, notably Bay-breasted Warbler, but I cautioned Chris’ about writing down, ‘capturing’, just what had had seen and sticking with his instincts (rather than being swayed by what he subsequently read), noting that unless he did so, there was a chance that someone could turn up the next day and relocate the bird and ‘clinch’ its i.d., and then claim that it was his find.

Meanwhile, as Chris and I were agonising and doubting (and I was counselling 😂) it is fair to say birders elsewhere in Shetland were also agonising and doubting (and worse!). As we’d seen when Chris’ initial attempt to get the news out (somehow, anyhow) had immediately gone viral this had produced some very unhelpful responses (“Can we clarify what (the) hell he is talking about!” Adrian Kettle, which then got a thumbs up!) there were people out there who clearly knew better than the only person who mattered, the only person who’d seen the bird, Chris.

Chris coped commendably when with the pressure involved and remained his usual rational self.

Having firstly asked for the thoughts of others in relation to his drafts, that evening he sent a couple of messages to the Unst birders WhatsApp group, drafting, sending, receiving comments and amending the same all whilst still chatting to me.

Initially (in direct response to the Adrian Kettle message) he sent a message saying, “Sorry everyone. Phone died after sending initial message. That initial message seemed to do the job though! Thank you to those that came to look for the bird, and let’s hope it gets found tomorrow”, to which Brydon responded with a supportive message.

Subsequently he sent another message saying, “Hi all. Based on my views of the bird and my previous experience of the species, my initial thoughts were that it was a Blackpoll Warbler, but I knew I needed to see it again – so asked for extra help relocating given I had a phone about to die. In retrospect on the identification I don’t think I saw all characteristics to be able to safely rule out options for other American species. We’ll hopefully find it again tomorrow!”

So it was that we were up around 07:00 the following morning, and on-site at Rockfield soon after it was light. Others, including Wayne Glossop, quickly joined us.

Unfortunately, despite people looking (at Rockfield) and some people searching the wider area (Chris included!) there was no sign, so soon after 09:00 I opted to return to Northdale for breakfast.

Predictably, so it was, that, as I munched my Dorset Cereal and quaffed my coffee, that I received a message at 09:33 which involved Brydon forwarding a message from one of the main Shetland WhatsApp groups to the Unst birders one stating, “BLACKPOLL still”.

I opted to hastily finish my cereal and coffee (but just leave the bread in the toaster) before quickly driving back to Haroldswick.

On arrival it emerged that the bird had suddenly appeared when some young birders had used playback. It had seemingly flown into the garden at Rockfield from the rough field on the other side of the minor road, before returning there.

Some birders were in the field searching for it, and I briefly attempted to do the same, edging from the roadside ruined croft to the one further into the field. It quickly emerged that, without my walking pole anyway, I was no longer best-suited for this role, nor was I able to discern what the assembled birders at Rockfield were gesturing I should do (beyond being confident it wasn’t rude). I retreated back to the road, and soon afterwards it was apparent the bird had been relocated as there was more frenetic activity in the field.

I failed to get on it, even though it apparently perched on the roof of one of the buildings associated with the roadside house called Ark. However, despite the strong wind, and as though it had a routine, it seemingly made its was onto the beach and the huge mounds of wrack thrown up by Amy….. . or maybe beyond…. .Donald Wilson arranged for five of us to check out the croft North Booth beyond the end of Haroldswick Bay (he, I, Mike Penningto, Wayne Glossop and one other).

We were unsuccessful, but meanwhile it was indeed relocated on the beach. Again, here I initially struggled to get on it, as it was either flighty or got pushed or both, but eventually I did get on it, memorably searching for food amongst the wrack by perching up right on the tide-line, and then later, moving in the open on the track to North Booth.

Brief views, but more that good enough. I was happy.

After being a very small part of the first part of the story on the 8th, it was great to be around when everything came together for everyone present on the 9th.

And I was SO, SO pleased for Chris when the bird was eventually relocated, and, at times, performed very well for most in attendance, including even me. ☺️

I’d felt quite protective of Chris, being under siege like he was just for trying his very best, and so I was elated that he’d been vindicated. It was a strange sort of reflected glory, I guess.

Obviously, everyone else was very happy too, and there was a good atmosphere all round. I enjoyed seeing Paul Harvey, and introducing Chris to him, telling Paul, “This is Chris, who found the bird”. All the more so later, when we’d retreated to the Final Checkout for some lunch and again saw Paul there, who said to Chris as he was leaving, “Good find”.

So, thanks to Chris, I’d managed a long overdue tick, which was a good grip back, as perhaps nowadays it is no longer the most frequently occurring Yank as it had been in the 1970s and 1980s.

It was a stunning looking bird, way more so than perhaps I’d expected. Although an American wood warbler, there was definitely a hint of ‘bright’ pipit going on due to its general appearance and stance, and the prominent double wing-bars and (less prominent) streaking on both the upper and lower parts.

That said, the head, throat and upper breast were unmistakably yellow, and the rest of both the upper and lower parts also had a hint of yellow, although the upperparts were mainly grey-green and the underparts off-white. There was a darker eye stripe, and the head and face pattern involved somewhat darker areas on the crown, ear coverts and nape. There was some broad darker streaking on the lower neck, and the underparts, although this faded and thinned lower down.

The scapulars and the wing coverts had broad white edges, creating the double wing-bar effect, and the primaries, secondaries and tertials were white tipped and edged in part at least, although some primaries and secondaries were yellow edged. The flight feathers, wing coverts and alula were dark centred. The tail was similarly coloured.

However, the stand-out feature was the day-glo yellow-orange legs. If Pale-legged Leaf Warbler was my preceding tick, this one could justifiably be renamed Bright-legged American Wood Warbler!!

Blackpoll Warbler, Haroldswick, Unst, Shetland, October 2025 (photograph credited to Mike Pennington).

Blackpoll Warbler, Haroldswick, Unst, Shetland, October 2025 (photograph credited to Tom Hines).

Marsh Sandpiper – Elmley RSPB Reserve, Elmley, Isle of Sheppey, Kent, 29^th April 1991

Marsh Sandpiper at Elmley RSPB Reserve, Elmley, Isle of Sheppey, Kent, in late April 1991. As suggested, the light was not good rendering the bird somewhat monochrome.

Dipped Serin!! How many times will I have to write that?!?!? (This, evidently, was a recurring theme at the time).

However, I then tonked down to Elmley and caught up with another frustrating one, Marsh Sandpiper.

And relatively easy it was too, once I got to the hide. It was not good light, admittedly, but other than that, I had reasonably views.

It had extremely long legs – Jerry Hall! It also had a long, fine bill. Its summer plumage was very evident, as there were black markings within the mid-brownish upperparts.

Turned out, the 29th April was the last day of a six day stay. Just over four years later, on Sunday the 6th August 1995, I saw three juvenile Marsh Sandpipers at Cantley Beet Factory, Cantley in Norfolk, two days into their ten-day stay. Unfortunately, though, I did not see all three together as two flew off and over us as we searched for the right place; once we got there only one was to be seen.

Many, many years later, (having not been able to twitch the bird at Musselburgh Lagoons on the 18th and 19th May 1997 as my Dad and Barbara were visiting) I saw one for my Scottish list at the lagoon at nearby Morrison’s Haven on the 7th September 2025.

Marsh Sandpiper, Elmley RSPB Reserve, Elmley, Isle of Sheppey, Kent, April 1991 (photograph credited to unknown).