Isabelline Wheatear – Telegraph, St. Mary’s, Scillies, Cornwall, 3rd October 1988
A sketch completed after seeing my third Isabelline Wheatear - and my first for Scotland, in November 2021
The whole event surrounding yet another (the best?) tick of our first trip to the Scillies defies words. Whilst Paul and I were idly looking (okay, Paul more keenly) for a Common Rosefinch at the Incinerator on St. Mary’s on Monday the 3rd October, I struck up a conversation with someone (who, it turned out, was the proprietor of the Rendezvous, which, at the time, was a café at Telegraph).
Almost as soon as we began chatting (and with no sign of the Common Rosefinch) the Citizens Band radio relayed news of, “A possible Isabelline Wheatear at Telegraph”.
Although this sounded very good news, three days into my first visit to St. Mary’s / the Scillies I was already well aware that this was quite a long way away, and uphill. But it slowly dawned on me that I had a very few minutes earlier seen the proprietor of the Rendezvous getting out of his beat-up black Volkswagen Beetle, parked a few metres away. So, I asked, “Er, did I just see you getting out of that car?” He confirmed this, and immediately asked me whether I wanted a lift. Of course, I did, and so it was that he and I arrived at the scene way before anyone else other than the finders.
We quickly joined them searching for the bird which seemingly had just left the ‘Short-toed Lark field’ for the golf course. We rushed from the road to the back of the houses which included Rendezvous (opposite the ‘Short-toed Lark field’ and backing on to the golf course), me chasing my new found mate as he said, “Come on!”, inviting me to follow him clambering through the gardens of his neighbours.... .
We ended up rushing backwards and forwards between one location and the other until finally it was settled back in the ‘Short-toed Lark field’. Here it was feeding incredibly close to the Cornish bank against which we were leaning as we grilled it at close, and very close, ranges for a good while before the rabble began to arrive, including the sweating and panting Paul. He had run all the way from the Incinerator, thinking he’d left me trailing in his wake, so on seeing me he demanded, “How the fuck did you get here so quick???!!!??!!??”
The whole twitch, as I say, defied words. I had twitched it in style and then I had enjoyed incredible views as it posed very close-by. Indeed, it sometimes fly-catched directly overhead, when its bill could be heard snapping shut.
Given these views, I absorbed all the identification criteria, the dark alula, the white-grey under-wing and, as Paul (the graphic design specialist) put it, the Futura T black and white tail pattern. There was an indistinct buffish supercilium, and the coverts had pale edges. Otherwise, the plumage was a concolourous sandy-brown overall. It had dark, thick looking legs, a dark, heavy-ish bill and black eye. And yes, it had a comparatively upright stance.
It put on a fantastic performance, which was repeated on successive days. It was the fifth ever recorded in the UK. Bizarrely, two years later, and in almost exactly the same location, I saw the sixth, and my second.
Many years later I also added a third, and my first for my Scottish list (eh?) near East Linton, East Lothian on the 25th November 2021.
Isabelline Wheatear, Telegraph, St. Mary's, Isles of Scilly, October 1988 (photographer unknown)
Almost as soon as we began chatting (and with no sign of the Common Rosefinch) the Citizens Band radio relayed news of, “A possible Isabelline Wheatear at Telegraph”.
Although this sounded very good news, three days into my first visit to St. Mary’s / the Scillies I was already well aware that this was quite a long way away, and uphill. But it slowly dawned on me that I had a very few minutes earlier seen the proprietor of the Rendezvous getting out of his beat-up black Volkswagen Beetle, parked a few metres away. So, I asked, “Er, did I just see you getting out of that car?” He confirmed this, and immediately asked me whether I wanted a lift. Of course, I did, and so it was that he and I arrived at the scene way before anyone else other than the finders.
We quickly joined them searching for the bird which seemingly had just left the ‘Short-toed Lark field’ for the golf course. We rushed from the road to the back of the houses which included Rendezvous (opposite the ‘Short-toed Lark field’ and backing on to the golf course), me chasing my new found mate as he said, “Come on!”, inviting me to follow him clambering through the gardens of his neighbours.... .
We ended up rushing backwards and forwards between one location and the other until finally it was settled back in the ‘Short-toed Lark field’. Here it was feeding incredibly close to the Cornish bank against which we were leaning as we grilled it at close, and very close, ranges for a good while before the rabble began to arrive, including the sweating and panting Paul. He had run all the way from the Incinerator, thinking he’d left me trailing in his wake, so on seeing me he demanded, “How the fuck did you get here so quick???!!!??!!??”
The whole twitch, as I say, defied words. I had twitched it in style and then I had enjoyed incredible views as it posed very close-by. Indeed, it sometimes fly-catched directly overhead, when its bill could be heard snapping shut.
Given these views, I absorbed all the identification criteria, the dark alula, the white-grey under-wing and, as Paul (the graphic design specialist) put it, the Futura T black and white tail pattern. There was an indistinct buffish supercilium, and the coverts had pale edges. Otherwise, the plumage was a concolourous sandy-brown overall. It had dark, thick looking legs, a dark, heavy-ish bill and black eye. And yes, it had a comparatively upright stance.
It put on a fantastic performance, which was repeated on successive days. It was the fifth ever recorded in the UK. Bizarrely, two years later, and in almost exactly the same location, I saw the sixth, and my second.
Many years later I also added a third, and my first for my Scottish list (eh?) near East Linton, East Lothian on the 25th November 2021.
