Baltimore Oriole – Covean, St. Agnes, Scillies, Cornwall, 4^th October 1988

Tuesday the 4th October was one of those days in Scilly that you sort of really want, with a big storm system moving through, but ultimately you just end up in the pub as birding proves nigh on impossible until things begin to settle down again.

........ having spent ages – way too long – in the Bishop and Wolf with Bernie Beck (not a good combination) I decided it was high time I did something; I hadn’t come to the Scillies to sit around in pubs, although...... .

Although the weather was no better, I walked up to the golf course, as there had been one of those ‘all dark falcon’ stories, evoking a supposed Eleonora’s Falcon. I had just joined a group searching for this enigma (including Paul and various members of our Porthcressa gang) when suddenly the C.B. radio crackled to life with news of a Northern (nee Baltimore) Oriole on St. Agnes. Fuckity fuck!!

Thus alerted, birders all over St. Mary’s (and presumably the off-islands too – except St. Agnes!) descended on the quay to get a boat across to St. Agnes. We ran to the nearest road at the golf clubhouse where, by some means, a mini-bus was waiting to collect us. Or them! I missed out on a place in the mini-bus by one, so watched it speed off down towards Hugh Town with Paul making some very rude gestures at me through a cleared ‘port-hole’ in the steamed up and rain splattered window. There’s a word for people like that.

Anyway, after a long full pace yomp I made it to the quay and onto the boat which was making the crossing to St. Agnes. Now, because I am not a .... (whatever that word is), it occurred to me as I was rushing past the Bishop and Wolf that Bernie would still be sat in there nursing his latest bottle of Newcastle Brown, oblivious of what was going on in the real world.... . So, I went in, and hurriedly explained, and effectively dragged him out with me. He didn’t have his bins with him but had the splendid presence of mind to bring two empty bottles of Newkie Brown with him instead. Perfectly reasonable substitute optics..... .

The crossing was rough, and so was I, but thankfully I avoided any impromptu chumming activities.

Once we had landed and disembowelled disembarked we yomped up to the Covean Cafe / bulb-shop area where the crowd was assembled. The bird was showing perched up amongst the bare branches of a tree in one of the pittosporum hedges in the small fields on the Gugh side of the island. But finding a viewing place in what was a very confined setting full of frantic birders was a tad tricky. But not if you were Bernie Beck and had spent all afternoon drinking in the Bishop and Wolf...... . He had scrambled up onto the wall and leaned against the bulb-shop roof. Seeing my predicament, he dragged me up alongside him; well, one good turn deserves another. Now, there might have been some chuntering about our inappropriate behaviour but if there was I was oblivious. And anyway, this enabled me to get views of the orange bird on top of the hedge. Probably somewhat better views than Bernie did through his state-of-the-art beer bottle optics.... (presumably, I let him use my bins..... ?).

Then, when it moved down from the top of the hedge to feed, Bernie and I clambered down off the wall, and with some others rushed around to the lower path at Covean and searched for it, possibly not necessarily keeping to the paths and staying out of the fields. I do remember someone saying, “Come on, I know how to get in there!” and always believed this was Bernie, as it may well have been, my original write-up of this account suggested it was ‘Steve .........’ and Paul confirmed when I was preparing this version that it was Steve Duffield. We were militant northern and / or pissed-up birders, clearly..... . Anyway, we successfully located it feeding amongst the bramble, etc., at the base of one of the hedges.

So, back to the bird. It was approximately Song Thrush sized. It had bright (almost luminous) orangey under-parts, head and upper back, with the breast in particular being bright orange. The upper-parts were grey-brown and there were two prominent white wing-bars and white-edged primaries on an otherwise black wing. The bill was stout, pointed and grey and the legs were grey.

Absolute stonker!!!! The 17th for Britain.

Baltimore Oriole, Covean, St. Agnes, Scillies, Cornwall, October 1988 (photograph credited to David Cotteridge).