Hooded Merganser – Kilbirnie Loch, near Beith, Ayrshire, 27^th November 2016

Stunning combination of black and white and light chestnut brown, with, in particular, the white blaze behind the eye being very variable in size and appearance depending on posture and purpose.

During the fantastic autumn of 2016 a Hooded Merganser (with seemingly good credentials) turned up in mainland Scotland, and less than 90 minutes from Edinburgh. Unfortunately, I was in Shetland.

The bird was located on Barr Loch on Friday the 7th October, and remained there until Monday the 10th. ‘Oh, well’, I thought, or something like that.

However, it was then subsequently relocated on the nearby Kilbirnie Loch on Wednesday the 9th November; I had a second chance.

The trouble was, I was by then working more or less full-time on the Blackhillock to Keith 275 kV Cables Project in north-east Scotland, and when I wasn’t there I was away for the weekend. For instance, the day after it was relocated (i.e., on Thursday the 10th November) I drove from Keith to Edinburgh and then took a taxi to the airport to fly to London Luton to meet up with Gary and Chris at the start of our annual weekend away (Copenhagen, if you are interested.....) before reversing the journey on Sunday / Monday the 13th / 14th November. Similarly, the following week, on Wednesday the 16th November, I drove from Keith to Edinburgh, and then, on Thursday the 17th November, from Edinburgh to Manchester to see the launching of Beth Cleavy’s brainchild, ‘Orton’ and from Manchester to Chesterfield to see my ailing father, before returning north at the start of the following week.

Therefore, it wasn’t until the weekend of the 26th / 27th November (two and a half weeks into its second coming) that realistic twitching opportunities first presented themselves.

First though, I saw the student Ellen in Aberdeen on Friday the 25th November, before travelling home to Edinburgh for only the second ‘proper’ weekend there since late September.... . Once, again, I was having Tessa for the weekend; would it be possible to work in seeing the Hooded Merganser around about her plans?

Having watched a feed of the Burnley v. Manchester City game on my laptop at lunchtime on the Saturday I collected Tessa. She quickly announced she was going into Edinburgh with her friend Catie, but I couldn’t face the twitch involved that day, and anyway, there wouldn’t be enough time. However, that evening she announced that she and Eilidh Ryan were going to go rock climbing on Sunday afternoon, and so I decided that this was my opportunity...... . If it was around I would go for it whilst Tessa was rock-climbing.

News came through on the RBA app at 09:19 that morning so once I realised this, I quickly got up, prepared, breakfasted, messaged Mairi Donaldson to appraise her of my plans relative to those of Tessa and Eildih, dropped Tessa off at Gillian’s and departed.

It was about 10:30 when I left, and, excepting an extreme lack of petrol for miles and miles beyond Glasgow (until I eventually found a fantastically conveniently placed service station just outside Beith) it was an uneventful journey.

On filling up and leaving the service station, I eventually navigated a way from Beith to the railway overbridge at the north end of Kilbirnie Loch. From here it was apparent where the bird was likely to be and where I should preferably be, but how to get there?

I managed getting from the north end of the loch to Kilbirnie easily enough, but finding a way of accessing the open areas on the south-western shores I had seen was less easy.

I continued on roads which were generally south of Kilbirnie and the loch but nothing was obvious. I had almost circumnavigated the loch and returned to Beith when I stopped to ask a mother / grandmother / pushchair and grandchild combo how I could get to the loch. When the Grandma said, “What loch?” I simply drove off.

My next attempt at getting directions was much more success though. I had opted to drive into the access road for the Glengarrock Business Park, and here I came across a gaggle of dog-walkers returning from their recreation to a car parked at an access point. They suggested I follow them in their car and they would show me the way.

This they did. Suddenly I was just where I had wanted to be, and as I passed through the recreation area and arrived on the shores of the loch I could see there was already a couple armed with a telescope in the parking area.

I parked up, emerged from my car and gathered up my gear, and asked them whether they had seen the Hooded Merganser. They replied that they had only just arrived, so they and I walked to the edge of the loch, and commenced scanning. I assembled my telescope and tripod and looked into it where it was pointed at the far shore-line across what was a large loch. Immediately, even though it was distant, and I only had brief views, I announced that I had it. By entire chance, it was in my very initial field of view!!

For the next hour or so, I watched it (mainly in the good company of the initial couple and, in particular of Andrew Stirrat, who had arrived very soon afterwards) as it actively moved alongside the sweet reed-grass margins of the opposite shore-line, dived, and generally showed well, if distantly. It remained faithful to this area (though ranged backwards and forwards along the shore) possibly as partly constrained by thin ice on the loch between us and the open water it frequented. Teal, Mallard and Goldeneye also used the same area but the Hooded Merganser largely did its own thing.

As suggested, it was highly active / mobile and dived frequently (though briefly).

It appeared small (at least for a sawbill) and had mainly jet black upper-parts with brilliant white patches on the sides of the head behind the eye (separated by a very narrow black line down the rear of the head and nape) and upper breast, and black and whitish secondaries and tertiaries on the folded wing and a grey brown rear and tail, and rich chestnut brown flanks.

The patches of white on the side of the head were of very variable size and shape which changed with posture and purpose as the bird raised its crown feathers.

It was an extremely attractive bird, all the more so in the viewing conditions which although distant involved brilliant light. And a very good decision to go for it when I did!

And so, again, (as I may have said on previous occasions!) it was a matter of, ‘Over to you BOURC’; thankfully it was duly accepted as the ninth for Britain.

Hooded Merganser on Kilbirnie Loch, near Beith, Ayrshire, November 2016 (a still captured from a YouTube clip credited to Jonathan Clarke, and then ‘flipped’ to replicate how I best remember seeing it).