Red-footed Booby – Bishop Rock Lighthouse, west of the Scillies, Scilly, 22nd October 2023
When a Red-footed Booby was observed during a pelagic off the Scillies on the 7th August 2023 I really thought nothing of it. Ultra-rare boobies were species which were, as far as I was concerned, always going to be out of reach. After all, the only previous record involved a bird found exhausted on a beach in St. Leonards-on-Sea in Sussex on the 4th September 2016, before it was rehabilitated by the RSPCA at a specialist RSPCA facility at Mallydams Wood in Hastings. Here it remained, out of reach of those who argued they were entitled to see it …… (ho-hum…) until it was repatriated to Grand Cayman in the Cayman Islands in mid-December. Unfortunately, it then died there whilst still in quarantine.
Yes, this tropical, oceanic species wasn’t one I, in any way, anticipated adding to my UK list anytime soon (ever).
So, when news that the (same) Red-footed Booby had incredibly been discovered roosting on the Bishop Rock lighthouse on the 14th August, I was scarcely more enthused.
It was then also connected with on the Bishop Rock lighthouse subsequently on the 15th, 16th and 17th August during special boat trips out there (and it was ever ‘scoped from Peninnis Head on St. Mary’s on the latter date). As such, it was soon being well and truly twitched by all and sundry, as social media made all too apparent.
However, it not seen early in the afternoon on the 18th August or on the 19th August, but then it was seen on virtually every day between the 20th August and 15th September (although on the 27th August it was seen from a Scilly pelagic and not on the Bishop Rock lighthouse). To the discerning, by now, there was something a pattern emerging. Basically, it was not always present on the lighthouse earlier in the day (when, presumably it was foraging in nearby waters), but was more reliable later on, (when, presumably, it had successfully caught enough fish, and, as such, was resting on the lighthouse). Indeed, on at least a couple of occasions, as suggested, it was seen at sea from pelagics earlier in the day during this period.
Social media continued to appraise me of the twitch-ability (sorry, that’s a shocking ‘word’), whether or not I wanted to know. Indeed, conventional media did the same; on the 24th August my non-birding mate Chris Hirst asked me if I was going to twitch it on our WhatsApp group. He actually asked, “Are you heading to the Isles of Scilly to see the Red Booby (sic). Big fuss on breakfast tv!!” My best mate, Gary Hitchen corrected Chris on my behalf, “Red-footed Booby Chris” and (incorrectly) anticipated, “I imagine the magic carpet has already taken flight southwards!”
More realistically, I volunteered, “Nah. Would love too but...” but added, “Maybe it can do the decent thing and hang around until I'm there in October..... 😳” (Chris Pendlebury and I had long planned to visit the Scillies between the 13th and 23rd October, given that his parents had booked a place there and rooms were available).
Predictably, Gary later informed us that he had, “Been getting tremendous results this morning searching for booby”.
However, it not seen early in the afternoon on the 18th August or on the 19th August, but then it was seen on virtually every day between the 20th August and 15th September (although on the 27th August it was seen from a Scilly pelagic and not on the Bishop Rock lighthouse). To the discerning, by now, there was something a pattern emerging. Basically, it was not always present on the lighthouse earlier in the day (when, presumably it was foraging in nearby waters), but was more reliable later on, (when, presumably, it had successfully caught enough fish, and, as such, was resting on the lighthouse). Indeed, on at least a couple of occasions, as suggested, it was seen at sea from pelagics earlier in the day during this period.
Social media continued to appraise me of the twitch-ability (sorry, that’s a shocking ‘word’), whether or not I wanted to know. Indeed, conventional media did the same; on the 24th August my non-birding mate Chris Hirst asked me if I was going to twitch it on our WhatsApp group. He actually asked, “Are you heading to the Isles of Scilly to see the Red Booby (sic). Big fuss on breakfast tv!!” My best mate, Gary Hitchen corrected Chris on my behalf, “Red-footed Booby Chris” and (incorrectly) anticipated, “I imagine the magic carpet has already taken flight southwards!”
More realistically, I volunteered, “Nah. Would love too but...” but added, “Maybe it can do the decent thing and hang around until I'm there in October..... 😳” (Chris Pendlebury and I had long planned to visit the Scillies between the 13th and 23rd October, given that his parents had booked a place there and rooms were available).
Predictably, Gary later informed us that he had, “Been getting tremendous results this morning searching for booby”.
None of this altered my view that this particular booby was probably beyond my reach, as tantalising as it was to think about getting my hands on one for my list.
Incredibly, to increase my angst, as well as the Red-footed Booby, a Brown Booby was watched by the twitchers on the Sapphire on the 28th August as it also roosted on the Bishop Rock lighthouse!!!!!!!
However, subsequently, after being tantalised by another exotic booby (one which had potentially been ‘gettable’ from the garden of my flat), I duly added the latter species to my list on the 10th September. A booby in the hand is better than one in the bush, clearly (or something like that 😊). But two?
Knowing it was just not happening but even then, secretly harbouring hopes that it just might stick until Chris Pendlebury and I travelled to the Scillies in mid-October 2023 was a disconcerting state to be in. It was wildly ambitious, but..... .
Predictably, as our pre-planned visit to the Scillies approached, after the 15th September the Red-footed Booby was seen on a more intermittent basis, possibly as there were less trips out to the Bishop Rock. As such, it was seen on the 23rd September (but not the 29th September) and the 8th and 11th October (but not the 9th, 10th and 15th October).
So, potentially, we were going to be close, but not close enough, and this feeling was heightened on the 8th October, when news reached us that Chris’ dad Keith had his Sunday lunch at the St Mary’s Golf Clubhouse spoiled by news that the booby had returned, and there would be a boat from St Mary’s at 13:30. Commendably, like any sensible Lancastrian, advised of this news, Keith wolfed down his Sunday lunch and ran down to the quay for the boat…. And thus, he duly retained his lunch and obtained a fantastic addition to his list. Fair play.
The day before we departed for the Scillies on Friday the 13th October, the inner quorum of the Bean Goose Advisory Group convened for a pre-meeting in advance of our next formal meeting on the 26th October, and I listened as Rick Goater relayed his experiences catching up with the Red-footed Booby when in the Scillies earlier in the autumn…… . Ho-hum.
So it was that when we arrived in Scilly on the 14th October, I wasn’t wildly optimistic about my chances of catching up with the Red-footed Booby, despite (and because of) all and sundry having successfully done so. Trips to see it were infrequent, and, worse, when a trip out to the Bishop Rock was planned that afternoon, it was subsequently cancelled, as there was no sign of it from a pelagic earlier in the day.
Further, we experienced some ‘inclement’, though seasonal, weather for the Scillies, albeit we didn’t receive the full hit of Storm Babet that areas further north and east in England and Scotland did.
Nonetheless, I reasoned that a bird species which belonged in the tropical waters of the Atlantic Ocean might just have got the hint it was no longer in the tropics when the first equinoxal storms hit the waters of Scilly……. .
Scilly (as ever?) tantalised but frustrated. In the absence of mega birds, I was very interested in seeing the vagrant insects that were reported (in particular, Green Darners, American Painted Ladies, Vagrant Emperors and locust species) but they eluded me, despite, horrendously, twitching the Green Darner on Bryher on the 20th October that Chris had connected with the previous day, an experience made way worse by it being at the very same place I had dipped Blackburnian Warbler the previous year. Moving on….. .
This caused very dark thoughts about the whole Scilly experience, which, combined with the weather and lack of really good birds was not good.
However, right at the end of our stay, salvation was potentially offered when it was confirmed on Saturday the 21st October that there would be one last trip out to the Bishop Rock lighthouse to try to see the Red-footed Booby on Sunday the 22nd October. This was two weeks after the last positive sighting (the one which fast-forwarded Keith’s Sunday lunch). It was also, apparently 69 days (or nearly ten weeks) since the bird had first been recorded on the Bishop Rock (and 76 days since it had initially been seen nearby during a pelagic).
As such, it was a a big gamble. However, we were leaving the following day, so my attitude was ‘what the hell’.
Chris Pendlebury did his usual thing of leaving any decision until as late as possible, whereas his dad was optimistic on our behalf.
I wasn’t anything like as optimistic and convinced myself going out to the Bishop Rock would just be a great experience anyway. More to the point, I knew, inevitably, if I didn’t go, it would be seen. The morning of the day the trip out to the Bishop Rock lighthouse was planned, I bumped into Adam Hutt and his partner, Heather Bennett, on The Garrison. Adam indicated he would be going on the trip, and I took this as a positive omen.
Fortunately, (though as had been forecast – hence the trip) the weather that day was relatively benign and the sea state comparatively calm.
I wandered down to the quay sometime before the 15:30 departure time, and was somewhat surprised to see a good number of folk already queuing to get on the Sapphire (apparently there were 75 of us). Chris, who had been to Tresco with his parents, was at the head of the queue and invited me to join him. Soon afterwards we descended the steps and clambered abroad. We quickly bagged seats on the port side near the wheelhouse, reasonably sheltered and well-positioned in terms of the stability of the boat. Adam joined us, and sat opposite, facing outwards (we were facing inwards, which was perhaps not the best, with hindsight).
Anyway, we headed off towards Bishop Rock, taking an incredible course between St. Agnes and Annet and various of the Western Rocks. It was indeed, ‘comparatively calm’ but all the same it was exhilarating to be out in the Western Approaches taking a course so close to the incredibly complex rock islets of the Western Rocks. For example, memorably, we went through, what, I think, was the ‘Crebawethan Neck’ a narrow and shallow channel between Great Crebawethan and the various rocky outcrops to the south.
I found it very exciting; I was very much in my element, whilst simultaneously very definitely not being in my element!
Once we had passed the next islet, Little Crebawethan, only Bishop Rock itself remained, and the lighthouse itself loomed ever larger ahead of us. However, as we were going roughly west south-west, and it was the late afternoon, we were looking into the sun to some extent.
By now I was increasingly optimistic.
As we closed in on the lighthouse, we checked it out and Chris commented that there was a bird atop the lighthouse on the western side which ‘could be it’. Very soon afterwards there was an announcement over the Sapphire’s tannoy which, in a very low-key way, confirmed the target of our quest was indeed there!!!
I could definitely see what was presumably it too, and so I was (quietly) even more exhilarated. Wow!! After all this time I had scored big-time!!!
Suffice to say, we duly closed on the lighthouse and circled it, allowing everyone to have views of the target of our quest and take photographs, etc.. Viewing wasn’t necessarily easy from a packed, small boat which was gently rocking with the swell, looking up at the bird perched on the edge of the tower-top helicopter platform safety netting high above us, often in the bright light of the sun.
Nonetheless, views were had, and it was on my list. Handshakes between myself and Adam and Chris seemed appropriate.
Meanwhile, as we bobbed about beneath the lighthouse, it was apparent that there was a large-scale feeding frenzy of seabirds to the immediate west, so after a couple of circumnavigations we went off to take this in as well - a real bonus.
It was truly spectacular, and involved (as estimated by Joe Pender) c.300 Cory’s Shearwater, c.35 Great Shearwater, 11 Sooty Shearwaters, 4 Manx Shearwaters, 1 Great Skua, c.50 Short-beaked Common Dolphin and c.50 Atlantic Bluefin Tuna. I didn’t necessarily see these numbers or the smaller shearwaters that were involved (Adam and Chris, for example, also had a Balearic Shearwater) but I certainly saw very well the incredible concentration of big shearwaters and dolphins, and also, the tuna.
After taking in this spectacle, we returned to the Bishop Rock for seconds of the Red-footed Booby, again circumnavigating the lighthouse and craning our necks to see the bird.
As it was roosting, it wasn’t necessarily the most active of birds, despite a couple of attempts to stir it into action by sounding the Sapphire’s horn. Nonetheless, it occasionally shuffled about, revealed its head and neck, and flapped its wings.
It was a typical booby in terms of size and shape (though is apparently smaller – size was difficult to judge given where it was). It’s plumage was white or off-white with the exception of the wings and tail which were dark brown in terms of the tail and flight feathers and a dirty grey-brown in terms of the coverts, etc.. There was a hint of yellowish colour to the head and there was some darker feathering around the margins of the bill and on the throat. The eye was dark brown. The bill was pinkish white in colour and, predictably, the feet were orangey-red.
Fantastic!!!
Incredibly, to increase my angst, as well as the Red-footed Booby, a Brown Booby was watched by the twitchers on the Sapphire on the 28th August as it also roosted on the Bishop Rock lighthouse!!!!!!!
However, subsequently, after being tantalised by another exotic booby (one which had potentially been ‘gettable’ from the garden of my flat), I duly added the latter species to my list on the 10th September. A booby in the hand is better than one in the bush, clearly (or something like that 😊). But two?
Knowing it was just not happening but even then, secretly harbouring hopes that it just might stick until Chris Pendlebury and I travelled to the Scillies in mid-October 2023 was a disconcerting state to be in. It was wildly ambitious, but..... .
Predictably, as our pre-planned visit to the Scillies approached, after the 15th September the Red-footed Booby was seen on a more intermittent basis, possibly as there were less trips out to the Bishop Rock. As such, it was seen on the 23rd September (but not the 29th September) and the 8th and 11th October (but not the 9th, 10th and 15th October).
So, potentially, we were going to be close, but not close enough, and this feeling was heightened on the 8th October, when news reached us that Chris’ dad Keith had his Sunday lunch at the St Mary’s Golf Clubhouse spoiled by news that the booby had returned, and there would be a boat from St Mary’s at 13:30. Commendably, like any sensible Lancastrian, advised of this news, Keith wolfed down his Sunday lunch and ran down to the quay for the boat…. And thus, he duly retained his lunch and obtained a fantastic addition to his list. Fair play.
The day before we departed for the Scillies on Friday the 13th October, the inner quorum of the Bean Goose Advisory Group convened for a pre-meeting in advance of our next formal meeting on the 26th October, and I listened as Rick Goater relayed his experiences catching up with the Red-footed Booby when in the Scillies earlier in the autumn…… . Ho-hum.
So it was that when we arrived in Scilly on the 14th October, I wasn’t wildly optimistic about my chances of catching up with the Red-footed Booby, despite (and because of) all and sundry having successfully done so. Trips to see it were infrequent, and, worse, when a trip out to the Bishop Rock was planned that afternoon, it was subsequently cancelled, as there was no sign of it from a pelagic earlier in the day.
Further, we experienced some ‘inclement’, though seasonal, weather for the Scillies, albeit we didn’t receive the full hit of Storm Babet that areas further north and east in England and Scotland did.
Nonetheless, I reasoned that a bird species which belonged in the tropical waters of the Atlantic Ocean might just have got the hint it was no longer in the tropics when the first equinoxal storms hit the waters of Scilly……. .
Scilly (as ever?) tantalised but frustrated. In the absence of mega birds, I was very interested in seeing the vagrant insects that were reported (in particular, Green Darners, American Painted Ladies, Vagrant Emperors and locust species) but they eluded me, despite, horrendously, twitching the Green Darner on Bryher on the 20th October that Chris had connected with the previous day, an experience made way worse by it being at the very same place I had dipped Blackburnian Warbler the previous year. Moving on….. .
This caused very dark thoughts about the whole Scilly experience, which, combined with the weather and lack of really good birds was not good.
However, right at the end of our stay, salvation was potentially offered when it was confirmed on Saturday the 21st October that there would be one last trip out to the Bishop Rock lighthouse to try to see the Red-footed Booby on Sunday the 22nd October. This was two weeks after the last positive sighting (the one which fast-forwarded Keith’s Sunday lunch). It was also, apparently 69 days (or nearly ten weeks) since the bird had first been recorded on the Bishop Rock (and 76 days since it had initially been seen nearby during a pelagic).
As such, it was a a big gamble. However, we were leaving the following day, so my attitude was ‘what the hell’.
Chris Pendlebury did his usual thing of leaving any decision until as late as possible, whereas his dad was optimistic on our behalf.
I wasn’t anything like as optimistic and convinced myself going out to the Bishop Rock would just be a great experience anyway. More to the point, I knew, inevitably, if I didn’t go, it would be seen. The morning of the day the trip out to the Bishop Rock lighthouse was planned, I bumped into Adam Hutt and his partner, Heather Bennett, on The Garrison. Adam indicated he would be going on the trip, and I took this as a positive omen.
Fortunately, (though as had been forecast – hence the trip) the weather that day was relatively benign and the sea state comparatively calm.
I wandered down to the quay sometime before the 15:30 departure time, and was somewhat surprised to see a good number of folk already queuing to get on the Sapphire (apparently there were 75 of us). Chris, who had been to Tresco with his parents, was at the head of the queue and invited me to join him. Soon afterwards we descended the steps and clambered abroad. We quickly bagged seats on the port side near the wheelhouse, reasonably sheltered and well-positioned in terms of the stability of the boat. Adam joined us, and sat opposite, facing outwards (we were facing inwards, which was perhaps not the best, with hindsight).
Anyway, we headed off towards Bishop Rock, taking an incredible course between St. Agnes and Annet and various of the Western Rocks. It was indeed, ‘comparatively calm’ but all the same it was exhilarating to be out in the Western Approaches taking a course so close to the incredibly complex rock islets of the Western Rocks. For example, memorably, we went through, what, I think, was the ‘Crebawethan Neck’ a narrow and shallow channel between Great Crebawethan and the various rocky outcrops to the south.
I found it very exciting; I was very much in my element, whilst simultaneously very definitely not being in my element!
Once we had passed the next islet, Little Crebawethan, only Bishop Rock itself remained, and the lighthouse itself loomed ever larger ahead of us. However, as we were going roughly west south-west, and it was the late afternoon, we were looking into the sun to some extent.
By now I was increasingly optimistic.
As we closed in on the lighthouse, we checked it out and Chris commented that there was a bird atop the lighthouse on the western side which ‘could be it’. Very soon afterwards there was an announcement over the Sapphire’s tannoy which, in a very low-key way, confirmed the target of our quest was indeed there!!!
I could definitely see what was presumably it too, and so I was (quietly) even more exhilarated. Wow!! After all this time I had scored big-time!!!
Suffice to say, we duly closed on the lighthouse and circled it, allowing everyone to have views of the target of our quest and take photographs, etc.. Viewing wasn’t necessarily easy from a packed, small boat which was gently rocking with the swell, looking up at the bird perched on the edge of the tower-top helicopter platform safety netting high above us, often in the bright light of the sun.
Nonetheless, views were had, and it was on my list. Handshakes between myself and Adam and Chris seemed appropriate.
Meanwhile, as we bobbed about beneath the lighthouse, it was apparent that there was a large-scale feeding frenzy of seabirds to the immediate west, so after a couple of circumnavigations we went off to take this in as well - a real bonus.
It was truly spectacular, and involved (as estimated by Joe Pender) c.300 Cory’s Shearwater, c.35 Great Shearwater, 11 Sooty Shearwaters, 4 Manx Shearwaters, 1 Great Skua, c.50 Short-beaked Common Dolphin and c.50 Atlantic Bluefin Tuna. I didn’t necessarily see these numbers or the smaller shearwaters that were involved (Adam and Chris, for example, also had a Balearic Shearwater) but I certainly saw very well the incredible concentration of big shearwaters and dolphins, and also, the tuna.
After taking in this spectacle, we returned to the Bishop Rock for seconds of the Red-footed Booby, again circumnavigating the lighthouse and craning our necks to see the bird.
As it was roosting, it wasn’t necessarily the most active of birds, despite a couple of attempts to stir it into action by sounding the Sapphire’s horn. Nonetheless, it occasionally shuffled about, revealed its head and neck, and flapped its wings.
It was a typical booby in terms of size and shape (though is apparently smaller – size was difficult to judge given where it was). It’s plumage was white or off-white with the exception of the wings and tail which were dark brown in terms of the tail and flight feathers and a dirty grey-brown in terms of the coverts, etc.. There was a hint of yellowish colour to the head and there was some darker feathering around the margins of the bill and on the throat. The eye was dark brown. The bill was pinkish white in colour and, predictably, the feet were orangey-red.
Fantastic!!!
Chris and I disembarked the Sapphire and went straight to the Atlantic Hotel to celebrate with a Sunday roast with his parents. We were keen to emphasise Keith that this was the preferred sequence in which to organise things! 😂 I enjoyed this post-twitch meal very much, all the more so for seeing David Bradshaw and his wife whilst there.
Ours is such a perplexing, ever-changing hobby. In the distant past I had seen Brown Boobies off Eilat, but never in my wildest dreams did I think I would feast my eyes on four boobies during 2023; lots of Peruvian ones and a Masked one on the Pacific coast of Chile, and, incredibly, for my British list, two in British waters, a Brown one in a completely unnatural setting on the Tees-side coast of the North Sea, and then this one in (the lighthouse excepted) the completely natural setting of the Western Approaches of the Atlantic off the Scillies. Wow!!! Wow!!!!
