Terek Sandpiper – Stanpit Marsh Local Nature Reserve, Christchurch Harbour, Christchurch, Dorset, 16^th July 1988

Whilst I was working in Dorset and Hampshire in 1988, Birdline conveniently notified me of this goodie at the handy Stanpit Marsh on the outskirts of Christchurch, and so it was off there I went from work on the Purbeck to Southampton Pipeline on the morning of Saturday the 16th July after ‘notifying others’ (whatever that means from a distance of 36.5 years later....).

I arrived at Stanpit Marshes to be rewarded with views of this bird feeding on the margins of the islands in Christchurch Harbour, and also flying closer, alighting briefly in front of us. Good views of a good bird.

It had grey-white under-parts and grey brown upper-parts with a diagnostic black line on the scapulars. It had a long, stout, slightly upturned dark bill and medium length stout orangey-yellow legs. In flight it had a grey rump, and a paler trailing edge (and a darker leading edge to the primaries, etc.), to the wing.

Subsequently I saw the one at Kitty Brewster on the Blyth Estuary in November 1989, although it may have been later, as presumably the same bird was then there and / or nearby from January 1990 until January 1991.

Finally, and incidental to all of this, one of the accompanying images was taken by Martin Reid, who was then a birder based in Dorset. Move on less than four years, and it was Martin, having moved to Texas, who provided the excellent image of the Wandering Tattler (a first for Texas) Mike Thompson and I found at Galveston, which accompanied the description we submitted to the Texas Bird Records Committee of the Texas Ornithological Society. Small world indeed!!

Terek Sandpiper, Stanpit Marsh, Christchurch Harbour, Dorset, July 1988 (photograph credited to Martin Reid).

Terek Sandpiper, Stanpit Marsh, Christchurch Harbour, Dorset, July 1988 (photograph credited to David Cotteridge).

Siberian Accentor – Mossy Hill, near Scousburgh, South Mainland, Shetland, 10^th October 2016

So....... . October 2016. We had been in Shetland for just over a week, during which we had seen plenty, including Paddyfield Warbler, Arctic Redpoll, Siberian Thrush and White’s Thrush on Unst, and Swainson’s Thrush on Fetlar and Brown Shrike on North Mainland (and that was only the real highlights).

Saturday the 8th October involved a change of crews – in effect, we were losing Jonny Holiday and Chris Pendlebury and gaining Paul Collin and Dennis Weir.

This involved someone driving from our excellent Noosthamar (Shetland Nature Lodge) accommodation to Sumburgh and back; given that there was a potential tick for him nearby and there were new allies to make, John Nadin (until now completely reluctant to drive) volunteered.

No surprise, then, when the next day, John again commandeered the driving of the vehicle so he could influence just where we were going..... .

Amongst other things the partial change of crews meant we no longer had the instantaneous bird news updates from Twitter that Jonny and Chris provided. It was not yet clear what news sources Paul and Dennis used. As such, given that Ken had sent his RBA pager off for repair prior to the trip and then managed to drop his mobile down the toilet at the appropriately named Final Checkout shop and garage, so completely incapacitating it and the RBA app. it included, we were now even more dependent on the news updates I was able to provide; oh, and those that John was also able to provide on an erratic / eccentric basis...... .

Therefore, keeping in touch at all times was going to be even more important.

That morning, we visited the plantation near Baltasound Middle School, for old times’ sake maybe (this being where we had found the White’s Thrush the previous October). To further the nostalgia I once again thrashed through the under-storey of the stunted Sitka spruce. In doing so I managed to lose a contact lens as a branch whipped back against my face. As such, I was reduced to a one-eyed birder, which was completely rubbish.

Later, when we all returned to Noosthamar for late lunch, I was still very much less than impressed with my ill-luck, and so, after eating, without saying anything to anyone, walked up the hill to ensure I had ‘mobile reception and commence the tedious and tortuous process of struggling to locate the right number to ‘phone Boots Opticians at The Gyle in Edinburgh and then cope with the interminable ‘press x for...’ options, and manage to convey the predicament I was in and (hopefully) arrange for a new lens to be manufactured, supplied and posted out to me, so that I would have it when we briefly called in to my flat in Edinburgh en route between Shetland and the Scillies.

All a very fraught process, taking way longer than was anticipated, or desired.

As such, when the team bus suddenly appeared coming up the hill, being driven by John and loaded up with the rest of the crew, I only briefly chatted to them as they pulled up, before I simply waved them on.

Once I had finally completed my call I walked back down to Noosthamar, I casually checked Facebook. It was by this means that I was first alerted to the presence of the first Siberian Accentor for the British Isles on South Mainland Shetland..... . 

WWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAATTTTTTTT????????

The news had seemingly just broken. I was already half way back down the hill to the house. I was also in a daze.

I continued back into our place and in doing so opted to use the landline there to try to contact the crew. I ‘phoned each of Amanda (as Ken ‘I have dropped my mobile down the toilet’ Shaw’s proxy), John, Paul and Dennis. In each instance, it either rang and went to voice-mail or just went to voice-mail, respectively, so I left the same basic message; “I am not sure you will get this voice-mail, but there is a Siberian Accentor on South Mainland and you need to come back to the Nature Lodge now.......!!!” Aaaargh! In desperation, I also rang Brydon Thomasson and left the same message.

Ken and Amanda had opted to walk to the Shore Station at Burrafirth, and indeed, in my dazed state I had seen them walking along the road at the head of Burrafirth towards there. But soon after two cars had travelled away from the Hermaness car-park. I could no longer see Ken and Amanda. Had they got a lift from passing birders? Was I in danger of being left behind???

I decided to set off walking to at least get out there and get mobile reception again, just in case they were trying to ‘phone me. Indeed, as I got back into reception, I got a voice-mail from Amanda telling me she had indeed got my voice-mail and they were walking back. Amusingly (or as amusingly so as was permissible in the circumstances), half way through the message, Ken had seemingly grabbed the ‘phone off her thinking she was actually speaking to me, and started shouting excitedly down the ‘phone, only for Amanda to try to explain to him she was not actually speaking to me....... .

Anyway, I walked towards the Noosthamar junction, and in doing so, intercepted Amanda coming the other way. She, in effect, told me that Ken had sent her back to base as the twitch had the potential to be, “Less than pretty”. Meanwhile, he was walking towards Haroldswick in the forlorn hope that John, Paul and Dennis would be rushing back to collect us and whisk us south for our appointment with this stonking first for Britain and Ireland on South Mainland.

I decided it would be best if Amanda and I followed Ken, and we did so, walking down to the Noosthamar junction, and then towards Haroldswick in his wake. Several times I bellowed, “Ken”, in his direction, but sadly, I am no Ken, and he didn’t hear me.

Eventually, though, he realised we were following him, having reached the Haroldswick junction and turned around, desperately wondering where the hell they were.

We quickly exchanged our stories and then decided we had no real option but to set off back. This we did, but even so, getting back long, long before they finally did.

By the time they did arrive back it was late afternoon. It quickly emerged (under interrogation 😊) that each of John, Paul and Dennis had left their mobiles on charge at base camp....... .

So, in effect, John had finally got my voice-mail only once he had finally returned..... .

With massively commendable restraint Ken and I pointed out the error of his ways to John. If he was going to commandeer (the responsibility of driving) the vehicle, certain basic responsibilities, like being in constant touch with the other crew members, came with it!!!!!!!

Typically, John flailed around and suggested, “What about them?” i.e., that he was only as culpable as Paul and Dennis. Ken and I managed not to over-react to this; basically John, one way, or the other, was the ‘senior’ member of the crew involved, having been on Unst for more than a week rather than just a day, and should have know better.

That said, we were all equally culpable in some ways – circumstances had really conspired against us what with Ken not having either his pager or his mobile and RBA app, me losing my contact lens and opting out of the afternoons' activities (so leaving the crew without their usual ‘go-to’ info source after they had set off, even if they had realised the consequences) and each of John, Paul and Dennis making the potentially fatal error of assuming mobile ‘phones were an optional extra.

It could have all ended in some very serious tears; when the news broke we could probably have still made it all the way to South Mainland in time to see it, albeit that it might have involved rubbish views in failing light. However, such views would have been better than no views at all if the bird wasn’t there the next day. After all, this was an unprecedented first for Britain and Ireland.

What followed was a fraught night; John later admitted he was feeling terrible, given that we might all miss out on this mega mega.

The following morning we departed early and successfully caught early ferries from Unst to Yell and from Yell to North Mainland.

Given the circumstances the journey went very serenely – largely thanks to Paul’s excellent driving, oh, and the positive news we got relatively early on during the journey, plus my interpreting of the RBA directions, although we did take on wrong turn when searching out the summit of Mossy Hill, as directed. However, this was a minor error, and we quickly recovered our way, and followed the correct (and marshalled!) route to the small quarries in the hillside, alongside which were some 16 vehicles and 50 or so birders.

There then followed a comparatively relaxed hour or so at the twitch with the bird generally on show as it grubbed around the rock debris and vegetation that covered the floor of the quarry. Encumbered by wearing my glasses and feeling very unsteady on my feet, I opted to take up a position looking down into the quarry from the top of one of the banks alongside side it; the quarries had been hewn into the side of the hill and the road ran diagonally along the slope at a gentle incline. Birders were in position at the entrance to the quarry and along the top of the lower bank.

From the latter location I had epic views of an epic bird which showed really well down to a few metres; a ‘scope really was optional.

In circumstances strangely / predictably reminiscent of watching a Radde’s Accentor in cool morning light on a mountainside near Demirkazik in Turkey (albeit that was a bird singing atop a scrubby bush as opposed to grubbing around a scruffy quarry) I thrilled at the scene before me. A ‘monstrous’ accentor doing its thing metres away, disappearing and reappearing amongst the rock jumble, feeding unobtrusively away, largely unconcerned by the crowds of birders metres away (apart from occasionally when the cacophony of shutters firing off shots sounded like mini-machine guns when it really performed!).

In typical accentor fashion it grubbed about feeding, memorably, at one stage, tossing leaf litter over its shoulder in a feeding action reminiscent of Turnstone.

My sketch notes made at the time suggested it was like ‘a robust Dunnock with a Shorelark head’ and it had a buffy yellow throat and supercilium, a black ‘robber’s mask’ black cap, grey hind neck and a rich brown and streaked back. I also noted it had a strong dark bill.

Siberian Accentor near Scousburgh, South Mainland, Shetland, October 2016 (photograph credited to John Nadin).

We took it in for an hour or so, then (leaving John ‘papping’ it) we went away to get some much-deserved breakfast at the airport (and, as a bonus, twitch a Buff-breasted Sandpiper from the roadside near Boddam} before returning for John, by which time it had moved to the next quarry further up the road.

All’s well that ends well, as they say. And, as I like to say, we had seen this bird when it was extremely rare, when it was a first for Britain, unlike a lot of ‘Jonny-come-latelies’. (Sorry Jonny; having left Shetland just before this mega of megas broke, fantastically, Jonny Holliday was able to catch up with the one at Spurn...... ).

Totally chilled Siberian Accentor twitchers (n.b., after the event), October 2016 (photograph credited to John Nadin).

 White-throated Robin – Hartlepool Headland, Hartlepool, Cleveland, 7^th June 2011

This is one of a sizeable batch of such accounts that was written retrospectively, several years on, after the loss of my Masked Shrike write-up due to some IT disaster completely killed my will to complete such accounts for all too long…… . However, I eventually renewed my efforts during the first part of COVID-19 lockdown.

Although, again, ‘source material’ was very limited, this was such a memorable twitch that I had somewhat more to work with; I could remember the day well.

On the morning Monday the 6th June 2011 whatever I was doing was thrown into chaos by the astounding news on the pager of a White-throated Robin at Hartlepool Headland.

The message said: “MEGA Cleveland WHITE-THROATED ROBIN Hartlepool Headland trapped + ringed + will be released shortly (not Red-flanked Bluetail) .... .” 

Apparently, the ringer involved had thought he’d seen a Red-flanked Bluetail before setting up his nets and then assumed this was the bird he subsequently extracted and bagged, before then advising Tom Francis that he had trapped a Red-flanked Bluetail. This ‘news’ was then relayed to the information services in good faith......... . It was then promptly corrected. It was 09:00.

For whatever reason I was very slow to react (I was especially busy at this time managing and undertaking bird surveys in relation to both the proposed Carcant and Cormaud wind-farms and also working various other smaller projects).

It wasn’t until much later that day, after there had been incessant updates for hours, that I began to realise that something as unobtainable as White-throated Robin might actually be attainable. By then it was too late to go to see it that day but if it was there the following day I had to go. That was it. That was the plan. I ‘phoned Kris Gibb that evening to see whether he was interested in going and he (obviously!) told me he had been there earlier that day with Dennis Morrison, and as such, in effect, thanks but no thanks. However, he volunteered that his uncle, Mike Thrower, would very much be interested in going should it still be there the following day. Kris gave me Mike’s number.

I then ‘phoned Mike and we made provisional arrangements to meet up at one of the car-parks at the Straiton Retail Park once there was any positive news on Tuesday morning. I then made the usual preparatory arrangements but otherwise carried on as normal. Or, at least, I did so as best as I could. A potentially twitchable White-throated Robin was a tad distracting.

As luck would have it, there was positive news from early on the following morning!!!! I relayed the good news to Mike, and sometime later that morning, we duly met up in the nominated car-park at the Straiton Retail Park. This all worked fine.

Now, as fellow members of the Lothian birding scene, Mike and I certainly knew each other prior to this. For example, when I had taken the girls to see a White-rumped Sandpiper at Aberlady Bay he and I had chatted. On a subsequent occasion, remembering this (and tangentially referencing his own life circumstances) Mike had urged me to look after (my relationship with) the girls. But we didn’t necessarily know each other well.

Mike is, let’s say, a character, a larger than life character. He’s a huge bloke who very definitely looks as though he’s had a life. Anyway, as I pulled into the car-park and located his (red?) car he promptly spotted me and quickly clambered into the car. More or less immediately he launched into an unwarranted explanation of his life circumstances (or aspects of it!). He explained basically that he had, “Got involved with the wrong people,” and, ‘Had ended up as a driver for gangsters in Edinburgh”. The fact that he’s huge and has a certain menace made me think there was rather more to his job description, but I didn’t pursue this. 

This was a very interesting way of starting what was to be a good few hours in the company of someone you didn’t necessarily know very well. In fairness to Mike we chatted away about all sorts subsequently. Amongst everything else Mike also told me that his partner was a legal secretary (I privately speculated about just how they might have met). He also told me that one of his grandfather’s had been a gamekeeper in the employ of Winston Churchill on his estate at Chartwell in Kent, and Churchill would ask Mike’s grandfather to row him out onto the lake whenever he needed ‘thinking’ time. Mike has certainly inherited his grandfather’s field skills – his photography of nesting birds is exceptional.

As a result of all this interesting chat, it was a good drive, taking what seemed to be no time.

Mike and I didn’t really know what to expect on arrival. He may have been told about the scenes involved by Kris on the previous day, but thankfully I think we were largely oblivious.

It subsequently emerged that the scenes during the evening on the previous day, when the bird had been eventually re-discovered in the ‘Doctor’s Garden’ were right up there with those in the Larkfield, near Maidstone on the Saturday of the Golden-winged Warbler twitch. After having been ringed and processed it was released at the bowling green, where, at first, it was well-behaved and provided the ever increasing number of birders good views. However, it became less cooperative later on, when it frequently departed the bowling green area into the adjacent high walled allotments, and irregularly returned. It then disappeared when a bowling match started. Eventually, it was successfully re-located in the high-walled garden of Dr Reece. There was no access as the doctor was away from home, and enterprising locals provided ladders and vans, etc., to enable birders to see into the garden...... . Incredible.

Fortunately, the next day, soon after we arrived we discovered that there was access to the Doctor’s Garden as he had returned home. We gratefully queued up, and (via the garage I think?) entered and parted with whatever was the suggested fee for the privilege. This allowed us into the back garden where we were easily able to enjoy good views in much better circumstances than the previous day.

Throughout our stay the bird could be watched as it fed unobtrusively in the opposite corner of the large garden. There were just the right number of birders allowed in at any one time and (as the bird was constantly on show and we were in someone’s private garden perhaps) everyone was well behaved.

It was a bit like a Nightingale in size and shape whilst also appearing pot-bellied and long-tailed. When feeding it was invariably on the ground, running and then stopping, often with its tail cocked. Its upper-parts were a largely concolourous brownish grey. The under-parts were paler, off-white in general with the exception of an orange flush on the flanks (like Red-flanked Bluetail) and a greyer upper breast. The chin and under-tail coverts were white. There was a very indistinct supercilium, and the ear coverts were warm brown. There was a faint eye-ring around the dark eye, and the bill and legs were dark. The bill was quite heavy.

Truly excellent!!! And we had twitched it in style, after the chaotic scenes later on the first day. Mike and I certainly had plenty to talk about on the journey home too.

This was the third record for the UK and the first twitchable one. Interestingly, the first was on the Calf of Man on the 22nd June 1983. I had been touted as a potential assistant warden for the Calf of Man by Mike Wareing at the BTO Ringers’ and / or Annual Conferences the previous autumn and winter. I’d had some dialogue with the then Warden, Adrian del Nevo, regarding the same, partly due to my vague Isle of Man connections given my visit there to help John Nuttall with doing some building work before doing some birding in the autumn after graduating university in 1982, and then my visits to see Lilian and Joyce there after John had sadly died. I could have been in on a first for the UK (although Ken is always very dismissive of this record..... ).

White-throated Robin at Hartlepool Headland, Hartlepool, Cleveland, June 2011 (photograph credited to Mark Coates).

Wonderful field sketches of the White-throated Robin at Hartlepool Headland by Stephanie Thorpe.

 Red-winged Blackbird – Garso, North Ronaldsay, Orkney, 10^th May 2017

My less than satisfactory attempting at drawing the Red-winged Blackbird playing hide-and-seek on a drystone wall. The icterid type bill was very noticeable, whether or not captured here.

My first and only tick earlier on during 2017 was the much-attempted (and -needed!) Hudsonian Whimbrel. However, ironically, very soon after I successfully twitched it, it was announced in January 2018 that Hudsonian Whimbrel was to be lumped again with Eurasian Whimbrel; for now, anyway, it was a very short-lived ‘tick’.

I had seen the Hudsonian Whimbrel on the 4th January, whilst on a desperate ‘escape’ twitch away from Chesterfield, where my father had been bed bound for at least a couple of months. As if this wasn’t bad enough, I really struggled with the foreboding presence of my sister Pauline during this time..... .

Hence going for the Hudsonian Whimbrel..... .

Unfortunately, Dad was finally taken into hospital whilst I away. This was for the best; he should have been in hospital weeks earlier.

Consequently, the next four plus months were spent travelling between home and Chesterfield so that I was able to keep visiting Dad in hospital. For much of this time I was also travelling between home and Keith / Huntly as I was working on the SSEN underground cables project between the substations at Keith and Blackhillock. This left little time; I was very rarely living at home, let alone even thinking of doing anything else.

Dad finally succumbed to his illness on Thursday the 20th April, within two hours of me leaving the hospital to drive back to Edinburgh.

The next couple of weeks were all a bit of a blur as Pauline and I arranged the funeral, etc.. This was on Tuesday the 2nd May, and I travelled back to Edinburgh on Wednesday the 3rd May.

Meanwhile, and of little consequence, the bird of the year so far had turned up on Saturday the 29th April. This was a Red-winged Blackbird, (potentially) a first for the Western Palaearctic, so not just any ‘available’ tick.

Given the circumstances (and all the planning and travelling this involved) there was no chance of going for it, and to be frank, I didn’t really give it too much thought.

However, it stuck. Day after day it was still there........ .

Whilst I was working near Keith in Morayshire (and staying in Huntly in Aberdeenshire) I had configured my planned visits to the project to do my agreed 2.5 days a week during early May around about Ellen’s exams, so that I could provide a taxi service between her study leave in Edinburgh and her exams in Aberdeen.

Whilst I was no longer able to take her Ellen back to Aberdeen on Wednesday the 3rd May (as this would have involved driving from Chesterfield to Aberdeen the day after the funeral) I was determined to honour my other commitments to her. Ellen and Tessa had volunteered and arranged to travel to the funeral by train from Aberdeen and Edinburgh respectively on Tuesday the 2nd May, and had then travelled back by train on Wednesday the 3rd May. I also travelled back to Edinburgh that day, before I continued on to Aberdeen the next day so I could bring Ellen back to Edinburgh after her first exam on Thursday the 4th May.

However, the following week the plan was to take Ellen to Aberdeen on Tuesday the 9th May and then back to Edinburgh on Friday the 12th May, and, given all my driving, etc., in the past few weeks and months, stay somewhere in Northern Scotland between times to have some much needed ‘downtime’.

Therefore, as the Red-winged Blackbird stuck and as my planned ‘mini-break’ got closer, a plan slowly emerged. Without wanting to stymie things, I tentatively researched my options for, firstly, getting to North Ronaldsay, and, secondly, staying there for a few days.

The latter option wasn’t possible, but by catching the Northlink ferry from Aberdeen to Kirkwall, staying over, and then flying from Kirkwall Airport to North Ronaldsay (and vice versa) it was possible to, in effect, day-trip North Ronaldsay, IF the bird stayed.

It was indeed still there on Tuesday the 9th May, and so my outline plan kicked into gear.

I had arranged a meeting with someone at the Nationwide in Corstorphine regarding my Dad’s accounts with the Nationwide on the morning of the 9th May, and so it wasn’t until the afternoon that I arrived at Gillian’s to pick up Ellen.

I had either booked or provisionally booked (or at least researched) all the component parts of my twitch, but everything was all a bit of a confused whirl.

Somewhat belatedly I realised that I had to be at the ferry by 16.30 as it sailed at 17.00 (rather than later as I had naively believed), so Ellen and I travelled up the A90(T) in somewhat fraught circumstances as it was all a bit last minute. She and I made various calls to confirm my bookings, and I tried to make sure I got to Aberdeen in time to get through the rush hour traffic around the harbour and past the city centre in time to park up at Ellen’s halls of residence, sort out my rucksack, etc., and get the taxi Ellen had booked for me back to the harbour before 16.30 hours..... .

Anyway, fraught or not, we made it with some five minutes to spare and so I successfully caught the Northlink ferry from Aberdeen to Kirkwall...... and breathe.

The crossing was uneventful and, after some initial birding from the huge upper deck, very boring.

Finally, at 23.00, we docked in Kirkwall (actually some way outside) and, once we disembarked, I successfully located the taxi my hotel, in Kirkwall had arranged for me. This quickly dropped me off at The Shore Hotel, where I was greeted and escorted to my room by a lovely receptionist before I sorted my rucksack, etc., prepared for bed, and managed to ignore the continental breakfast tray already in my room.

I was up at 06.15 and prepared and breakfasted before I departed to the nearby bus station to catch a bus to Kirkwall Airport. As I approached, I saw what was quite probably the earlier bus leave.... . I then had a wait before the 07.00 bus arrived.

This quickly and efficiently got me to the airport for 07.15, as I mistakenly believed was required. I disembarked, checking out a sculpture at the entrance to the airport building before entering it, and mistakenly turning towards what was the non-Orkney departures area. A friendly cleaner re-directed me to the inter-island departure area and I strolled over there. As I arrived, I could see the last people boarding a plane on the airport apron outside.

Only then was I informed that this was my flight and advised that I was too late...... . This was confirmed by the person who had been boarding the passengers when he returned to the building. Seemingly, it was him who I had spoken to when I had booked my flight and I had been advised that I needed to be at the airport by 07.00 (as opposed to catch the bus at 07.00). The few minutes’ difference was critical.

‘My’ flight departed. I was stunned. What to do? I asked whether there was a later flight I could get on. There was, but there was only one place left on it. There was no news about the bird as yet on RBA. I ‘phoned the North Ronaldsay Bird Observatory and spoke to Alison Duncan who I had previously spoken to. She said that there was no news and wouldn’t be any until later, but took my mobile number to give to Simon Davies so that he could (hopefully!) text me as and when there was any news.

Comforted by the discussion I had with Alison, I then booked the remaining place on the early afternoon flight (which, annoyingly cost a further £36 as my inbound flight had be automatically cancelled by my failure to make the outbound flight..... ). Better news was that I was allowed to leave my rucksack in the Loganair office whilst I went for a much needed walk to clear my head.

Despite having to walk along the main road for quite some way, this was reasonably enjoyable and productive, as I birded a nearby lochan, beach and ‘wooded’ valley (the site of both Red-footed Falcon and Common Nighthawk records) and managed Whooper Swan, male Hen Harrier, Great Skua, Arctic Skua, Rock Dove and Mealy Redpoll, amongst other things.

(Eventually.....) and seemingly uneventfully, I caught the 15 minutes flight to North Ronaldsay. Once there I was greeted at the airfield building by Alison Duncan and then chauffeured in the bird observatory Land Rover to the Red-winged Blackbird site by Simon Davies, the finder of this potential first for the Western Palaearctic!

What service! Simon (a quiet man, who was evidently very bored of taking people to see the bird.......) advised me where to stand and what the bird would do, and then walked off into the nearby marsh, and gradually through the various stands of irises. A one to one organised flush featuring the finder and me!

After a nervous wait, during which I began to suspect it wasn’t going to appear as Simon had almost returned back to the road before it flushed, the bird suddenly appeared and flew over / past me to its favoured gas bottles and old farm machinery refuge.

I quickly had the ‘scope on it and enjoyed good views as Simon rejoined me. He asked me where it had appeared from, as he hadn’t seen it when he flushed it. After a brief while it again flew past / over us and up onto the overhead lines alongside the road. He I again enjoyed good ‘scope views.

It was at this point that I fumbled for my mobile as I thought I might as well take a record shot of it up on the wires.... .

Anyway, suffice to say, I couldn’t find my ‘phone in any of my numerous pockets, and neither was it apparent in the Land Rover. I suspected that I had either left it behind when we were called forward at Kirkwall Airport or somehow had dropped it on the plane as I faffed around with my seat belt.

This put something of a damper on proceedings from then on, as I was worried about whether or not I would ever see my mobile (and perhaps more importantly, my credit cards, etc.) again.

The bird had by now flown off to more distant overhead lines. I was less interested in it now, for this reason, but also because I was somewhat distracted by my missing mobile.

I decided to cut my losses and walk back to the airfield along the coast, in the hope of finding White-billed Divers which Simon advised me could be seen off a headland called Torness. Even this was thwarted by my lack of a mobile, as I had no means of knowing what time it was. This resulted in me getting back to the airfield about 90 minutes early after not spending long enough on a sleeping large diver to determine whether it had a banana for a bill or not...... .

I did though see some fantastic summer-plumaged Snow Buntings as well as good numbers of Purple Sandpiper, and species such as Knot, Bar-tailed Godwit, Great Skua and Wheatear.

So, sadly, there are no photos of a plastic bag caught on the overhead lines (as it would have been!) in lieu of record shots of the Red-winged Blackbird.

I did briefly and tentatively sketch it when it was on the nearby overhead lines.

As ever, unlike when I had seen this species in Texas and California I actually took some notice of its appearance as it was an extreme vagrant..... . The bird was broadly Starling size (and shape and appearance perhaps). It was rather stocky, with rounded wings and a fairly short fan-shaped tail. It had a moderately thick and sharply pointed bill. This, and presumably the pattern of the head plumage, was somewhat reminiscent of allied species such as meadowlark.

It was overall ‘brown and streaky; but in more detail the plumage was complicated and involved a dark crown, a broad, flaring supercilium which was yellowish at the front, a dark eye-stripe, a dark moustachial stripe, a yellowish chin patch, dark, bold streaks down the upper and lower breast and flanks , two obvious whitish wing-bars and chestnut scapulars and mantle.

It had called as it flew over me (a soft, chirruping call).

In summary, I had brief, but very good views, and despite my efforts to make it otherwise, a very enjoyable day. I had indeed managed to leave my mobile behind at the airport, and was, thankfully, I was reunited with mobile on my return. I think my head must still be all over the place so soon after Dad had died...... but as I say, all in all, a very good day.

I mused that I could get to like this ‘ere thing of having my eldest studying at Aberdeen as it was now already twice this has provided the springboard for successful twitches to the Northern Isles. I computed that excepting her year abroad that might mean I could do this several more times in the next few years with, hopefully, a similar success rate...... . I also speculated that maybe if the University of the Highlands and Islands did good art and design degrees that I could get Tessa on to provide a similar springboard for the Western Isles...... ?

Red-winged Blackbird, North Ronaldsay, Orkney, May 2017 (photograph credited to unknown).

Red-winged Blackbird, North Ronaldsay, Orkney, May 2017 (photograph credited to Simon Davies).

Red-winged Blackbird, North Ronaldsay, Orkney, May 2017 (photograph credited to unknown).

Taiga Flycatcher – The Leas, Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, 15^th October 2020

As described in the relevant account (not yet posted) the Two-barred Greenish Warbler provided an excellent bonus in the wreckage that 2020 / autumn 2020 had become. I was in a good position too for any further bonuses; sure ‘biggies’ in Shetland ‘hurt’ somewhat (especially the Blackpoll Warbler) hurt, but should anything else turn up that was accessible and that I needed, I could go for it, as I wasn’t working and was only sorting out my new place and doing ‘Isle of May’ things.

So, when a Red-breasted Flycatcher which had been reported at The Leas, Trow Quarry, South Shields at 17:47 on the 14th October changed identity at 18:30 that evening, I was interested, very interested. An hour or so later Steely sent me a WhatsApp message about the same. We exchanged further messages about the same including my plan to go and which way to go (A1, A18, Tyne Tunnel, South Shields… 2.5 hours. Simples).

I sorted out my gear and attempted an early(-ish) night, but the plan was to wait for positive news in the morning.

The trouble was the first message on RBA at 08:00 the following morning was negative… “No sign of 1w. Taiga Flycatcher……”.

Ho-hum, forget that plan then…. .

However, at 08:13 there was a much more positive message suggesting the Taiga Flycatcher was still there at 08:10.

I was in the car and on the way before 09:00, and there by c.11:40 after a good drive, only punctuated by my need to use the change machine adjacent to the toll booths for the Tyne Tunnel. Who the hell has change nowadays? However, thankfully the machine accepted my Scottish £5 note….. .

I then successfully navigated my way through South Tyneside to South Shields town centre and beyond to the seafront. I readily found the right place and easily managed to park (right opposite the Bamburgh pub) as directed.

I assembled my gear and walked across the still being manicured amenity grassland towards what was, in effect, a raised beach like cliff edge inland of the coastline. It was evident where I was meant to be going (there was a very thin straggle of birders making their way back to their cars parked on the roadside). However, as I made my way towards the path down to the lower area of amenity grassland (The Leas?) I encountered a group of locals making their way towards the road, one of whom advised me, “Just keep going, there’s loads of them down there,” or something vaguely similar in a Mackem dialect.

I did so anyway….. . I joined the gallery arrayed in front of the embayment in the cliff edge which, the bird seemingly was frequenting.

Some 30 or 40 birders were there, with a handful more on the ‘cliff edge’ above the scene.

I made my way along the rear of the gallery and saw Andy Close (this time managing instantaneous i.d. of him from a good range….). He quickly informed me about what the bird was doing and that a faecal sample had been obtained…….. .

The bird was apparently ranging backwards and forwards along the lower slope / base of the cliff and as such showing well if intermittently. This was good news.

Less good news was the whole faecal sample scenario; Andy suggested that the i.d. wasn’t necessarily as clear-cut as it might be and as such it was hoped to get a DNA analysis conducted by the good Doctor Collinson.

Although the bird was supposedly ranging backwards and forwards and showing intermittently, this wasn’t readily apparent from where the majority of the gallery was standing, as there was a relatively low, bright sun directly behind the amphitheatre created by the embayment in the cliff. This precluded any sensible views so I told Andy I was moving further around to the narrow strip of the mown amenity grassland (and adjacent rough grassland at the base of the cliff) which was in shade.

This made viewing much easier as it also allowed me to see around the back of the main large bush that the bird favoured, although the strong wind didn’t help. However, the bird was frequently viewable as it flitted from perches in and around the bush and on prominent rocks, etc., on the lower slopes of the cliff to the ground to hawk prey items.

As such, I progressively obtained half-decent views, although it’s highly mobile behaviour, the light conditions and the nagging wind hindered this.

I was able to get enough on it to be reasonably happy with it, but there was still some doubt in my mind, partly on the basis of my earlier conversation with Andy. It was a subtle bird, certainly, and there was some ambiguity in it’s supposed crucial features. Further, it was hard to get good views of the black upper-tail coverts. Certainly, the tail was jet-black, but how far did this black extend up the tail and were the upper-tail coverts a shade or two darker? The plumage was shades of cold grey, but there were warmer tones on the upper part of the underparts, and, with persistence, you could make out a white throat. The tertials did have pale edges and tips, but they didn’t appear to be white; they were off-white at the best. The bill was certainly all dark. And if you squinted it did appear ‘capped’.

As ever, with the last few birds I need for my much-vaunted ‘500’, a very educational bird; there are few easy ones left!

Really enjoyed the trip and the ‘twitch’ itself, and especially so seeing such good friends as Andy Close, Darren Woodhead and Marcus Brew. And I was home by 18.00.

My preferred viewpoint (in shade and offering views around the back of the preferred tree…).

The gallery at Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, October 2020; excellent to see Andy Close, Darren Woodhead and Marcus Brew.

Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, October 2020.

Taiga Flycatcher at The Leas, Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, October 2020 (photograph credited to Oli Mockridge).

Taiga Flycatcher at The Leas, Trow Quarry, South Shields, County Durham, October 2020 (photograph credited to Martyn Sidwell).

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler – Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, 2^nd October 2024

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler!! What a bird!!!!!

A bird about which, there is VERY much a back-story, so first the ‘back-story’.

The back-story

On the morning of the 12th October 2016, during the incredible autumn of the incredible year that was 2016, Dennis Weir and I had initially blithely misidentified an Arctic Warber we discovered in the walled garden at the community hospital / health centre in Baltasound, Unst as a Greenish Warbler. Our colleagues, Paul Collin, John Nadin and Ken Shaw asked us why it wasn’t an Arctic Warbler, and we agreed, and blamed our copious amounts of red wine-induced hangovers. Too late for poor Ken, who had already put the news out on the Shetland WhatsApp group in good faith, such that when he had hastily corrected the ‘news’ he was immediately fielding a barrage of messages, etc., asking him less than politely, “What the fuck was going on????”, and, “What the fuck was it?” (i.e., “It could be anything nowadays!!!” - in view of the ‘new-fangled’ super-rare eastern Phylloscs such as Eastern Crowned Warbler, Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Sakhalin Leaf Warbler, etc. we were all slowly coming to terms with…….. ).

Just a very few days later, Ken and Amanda Shaw and I arrived in the Scillies via a long journey from Shetland which had taken in the Dalmatian Pelican en route, but, sadly for me, not the Hudsonian Godwit.

Along with Chris Pendlebury, we were staying in Rosenhill Cottage on St. Agnes between the 17th and the 24th October.

Obviously, it was fantastic to be on St. Agnes again, and all the better given that my very good mate Paul Pugh was staying in a flat at The Parsonage concurrently. Birding wasn’t necessarily fantastic but we changed it up with some rock-pooling, botanising (Lesser Adder’s Tongue) and ship-spotting (Queen Mary 2). Paul had the best views of what was very probably a juvenile Pallid Harrier and we all saw this, or another, harrier distantly over The Narrows, but unfortunately the record never saw the light of day, in part mired in the two-bird theory, as there was a ringtail Hen Harrier reported on St. Mary’s concurrently.

However, this all paled (sorry) into insignificance on the night of the 21st October, when Laurence Pitcher, Lee Amory, et al., brought a deceased Phyllosc in a plastic box to the Turk’s Head…… .

They were staying in one of the cottages owned by Fran Hicks, and explained that he had told them about a dead ‘Yellow-browed Warbler’ he had found beneath windows at the lighthouse. He had indicated that if they were interested in seeing it, he had placed in in a green waste bin. They had retrieved the corpse and then, as they had thought it was an Arctic Warbler, but ‘not quite right', they had posted images of it on social media. Very quickly certain people, including James Gilroy, Chris Batty and Andrew Holden, responded saying it was either Pale-legged Leaf Warbler or Sakhalin Leaf Warbler.

Anyway, that night, the corpse was taken to the Turks Head, where, rather unceremoniously, the bird was generally passed around, prodded and / or examined and photographed by the assembled birders, perhaps some 25 or so. Conversely, the ‘finders’ wanted to give it a decent burial, and we all worked hard to persuade them that this was a very important record, and the specimen had to be properly preserved and retained for prosperity (let alone identified as either Pale-legged Leaf Warbler or Sakhalin Leaf Warbler using DNA!). Given the time elapsed, and the multiple handling involved, the specimen was already getting a bit squishy. However, all’s well that ends well, and the whole story, including the outcome of the DNA analysis, is properly written up here (unlike this nonsense):

https://britishbirds.co.uk/sites/default/files/2018_V111_N08_438-445_PaleleggedLeafWarbler.pdf

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler showing not so well amongst beer glasses, Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016 (photograph credited to Chris Pendlebury).

Exhibit A (showing all the features!), Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016 (photographs credited to Paul Pugh).

Andy Carroll doing the bird log in the Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016. “Er. Any other species?”. (photograph credited to Paul Pugh).

It did indeed prove to be a Pale-legged Leaf Warbler.

So, as I recently saw the Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve bird, I now can claim to be one of very, very few people who have seen two Pale-legged Leaf Warblers in Britain, albeit that one was very much deceased.

However, this isn’t the whole back-story.

Chris Pendlebury subsequently confided that the late afternoon before, when we had been looking into The Parsonage from the road alongside the school, he on my right, and David Bradshaw on my left, he had briefly seen what he thought might have been an Arctic Warbler, but hadn’t said anything as I was deep in conversation with David ,,,,,,,,, . Ho-hum!

We shall never know, but certainly this part of the story made me very keen to see a live Pale-legged Leaf Warbler and remove some of the hurt…… .

Me telling Andy Carroll some story about being this close to seeing a Pale-legged Leaf Warbler near the Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016. (Or something like that 😊). (photograph credited to Paul Pugh).

The front-story

For some (months and) weeks early autumn 2024, I had been somewhat preoccupied with, amongst other things, plans for celebrating the 90th anniversary of the Isle of May Bird Observatory.

This involved an on-island event planned for the exact day of the anniversary, 90 years to the day after the ‘Bird Boys’ founded the bird observatory on the 28th September 1934 to the very day.

Unfortunately, at 16:13 on the afternoon of Friday 27th September I received a ‘phone call from David Steel, the Reserve Manager on the Isle of May National Nature Reserve during which it was confirmed that the event (on Saturday at least) had been cancelled by Alex Gardner, the boatman responsible for the May Princess.

Consequently, I spent the next good while notifying all attendees of the cancellation, and determining whether they could make the rearranged sailing on Sunday the 29th September instead, liaising with the Chairman of the Bird Observatory, Alan Lauder and David Steel, preparing a new summary of attendees, etc..

As such, a RBA message at 17:55 possibly didn’t fully register, at least until much later.

The message said, “East Yorks probable Pale-legged Leaf Warbler Bempton Cliffs RSPB in brambles near feeding station at 5:10 pm though elusive (for 3rd day; probably not Eastern Crowned Warbler)”.

A subsequent message at 18:42 said. “MEGA E. Yorks PALE-LEGGED LEAF WARBLER Bempton Cliffs RSPB in brambles near feeding station at 5:10 pm (identification confirmed from sound recording)”.

This was repeated at 18:44, and at 19:10 it was confirmed it was still there.

However, if not comatose at this point (I may well have gone for a lie down after re-organising everyone and everything for the 90th anniversary celebrations…. ) I might still have been unaware, or at least un-responsive.

After all, Saturday had only just been freed up by the cancellation (except that, as of earlier on Friday, a heating engineer was now coming to sort out my issue regarding the failure of the boiler to produce hot water early on the Saturday morning), and Sunday had only just been booked up. And anyway, it was a long way to go, would be utter chaos, and probably wouldn’t be there by the time I got there (it had been around since Wednesday the 25th September).

Plus, I have to admit, my worsening balance issue gave me real concerns about struggling to get adequate views of what was ‘clearly’ a very elusive bird in deep cover in amongst a big crowd of over-excited twitchers on potentially very uneven ground. Nah, that wouldn’t be good.

The (rearranged) Isle of May Bird Observatory 90th anniversary event on the island went well, and certainly pre-occupied me on both the Saturday and the Sunday, as did the Burnley v. Plymouth game on the Saturday, despite twelve positive news updates on the Saturday and seven on Sunday.

On Monday it was still around, but maybe the weekend’s events had taken it out of me, as I couldn’t get too enthusiastic about it, even though I knew I couldn’t go on the Tuesday as my car was booked into the garage to get the blowing exhaust and non-pumping front windscreen water-pump sorted, or at least, diagnosed.

By now others in my circle had caught up with it, and others were asking whether I had.

However, the bird had shown commendable stickability, and so I resolved to go on the Wednesday as soon as there was news. This there was at 08:01, and so I was in the car by 08.13, for the start of a truly epic day of driving. Google Maps took me south on the west side of the country and across to the east on the A66(T), which is always going to be a mixed blessing ever since I got the news of my Dad passing away when journeying back to Edinburgh via the A66(T) just a very few hours after seeing him in hospital. Anyway, a couple of hold ups excepted, it was a good (c.275 mile!) journey, although I had to stop to refuel (being almost entirely empty) within 20 miles of my destination.

The journey took longer than what was indicated on Google Maps, but I duly arrived just less than six hours after I had departed.

On arrival I parked up. It was immediately apparent that the scene of the crime incredibly was close by.

There were still plenty of birders twitching the bird but a hint of some “Johnny come lately’s” being there several days after the event, without too much idea (me included).

I wandered into the nearest part of the scattered throng alongside the car-park access road, and was briefly distracted by a Goldcrest-fest which was being togged (there may have been a Yellow-browed Warbler there too, in mitigation).

I decided that asking RSPB volunteer for his advice seemed like a good idea. He confirmed that the bird had recently been seen, and described the bird’s rough circuit.

When I expressed my concern about getting good views given my balance, he also indicated that there was seating available at the feeding area seemed like a good idea.

As such, I opted to sit and wait at the feeding area, but after a while I got nervous – what if others had it nearby? As such, I joined the group around the area of scrub between the car-park and that around the feeding area.

It was quickly apparent that some of them at least had had it, but that was the easy bit. It was equally apparent that getting good views was going to be problematic given its elusive behaviour low in dense cover and my lack of agility and mobility.

For example, I managed to get very fleeting mainly naked eye or very obscured views before it flew over or past us into the scrub around the feeding area.

Here I again got very much less than satisfactory views as it moved around low in the cover and I moved around trying to find somewhere suitable to view it from amongst the gallery all whilst trying to stay upright.

I mused about what I might consider as ‘acceptable’ views. Traditionally, I guess, this would involve views in which it could be considered as ‘identifiable’. Anyway, I eventually decided that I would want to have decent enough views of its head (i.e., its fantastic eye-stripe and supercilium combo), if nothing else.

The bird had disappeared into the low cover to the left of the feeding area from where the gallery was assembled.

Given my unsteadiness, I opted to sit on one of two low benches at the rear of the gallery, but close to the scrub to the left and rear of the gallery.

At first this was frustrating as any chance of seeing the bird involved looking through or around intervening birders, but fantastically and conveniently the bird (which was evidently on a circuit) worked its way through the scrub alongside the viewing area to the scrub at the rear of the viewing area, meaning I had a front row seat. Even then, getting on it wasn’t easy, but I successfully did so, and quickly replaced my unsatisfactory views with satisfactory (and more than satisfactory) ones.

It briefly disappeared in the depths of the cover at the rear of the viewing area, but then reappeared again given good, if brief, views as it worked its way through the low cover. It gradually, but quite quickly, made its way back into the low cover to the left of the feeding area and I repositioned myself against a convenient rail next to Bret Richards. who it was fantastic to see again after all these years. This allowed me to get further good if brief views.

All the time it was being well and truly togged.

I was very pleased with myself; from very unpromising circumstances, I had managed to get very satisfactory views of an absolutely stonking bird!

I retreated for a relaxing coffee, exhilarated, before I returned in the hope of a repeat performance. By now (given the views it had given) the gallery had dispersed apart from the woman I had been sat next to who was clearly hoping for the same. Whilst waiting I social mediaed the heck out of it.

It failed to reappear, so I cut my losses, and decided that it was time to drive home.

The journey was just as long, but slightly quicker (excepting a pit-stop for fish and chips in Biggar, which took longer than anticipated). Certainly, otherwise, the journey passed much quicker than the outbound one as I had scored and I was exhilarated.

It was a superb looking thing, with a head pattern to die for. This involved a stonking creamy-white supercilium which, although thin and not all that in front of the eye, widened madly at the rear of the eye, before tapering off but flicking up towards the nape. This was all accentuated by the blackish green eyestripe which again flared behind the eye as the upper ear-coverts and up-flicked as it terminated abruptly in a straight line against the nape.

The crown and forehead were also blackish green and the lower ear-coverts were a mix of darker colouring and the coldish off-white of the entire underparts, excepting the area on the upper breast sides which also had some darker colouring. The upperparts were an olive-greeny shade not dissimilar to Arctic Warbler, with a faint white wing-bar created by the lighter tips of the greater coverts. However, there was a definite bronzy shade to at least the retrices and the remiges, which seemingly varied with the light conditions. The closed wing had Blyth’s Reed Warbler like bunching of the tertials.

The eye was largish looking and black. The bill was surprisingly heavy and vireo-like, with the lower mandible at least being horn coloured, and the upper part of the upper mandible being darker. The legs were whitish-pink, giving n effect like white stockings over pink legs. It was all a bit incongruous, in a White-legged Damselfly kind of way.

I heard it call too, particularly early on. It had what I would describe as a Chaffinch like, ‘pink’ call which was though, higher-pitched, and thinner than Chaffinch.

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, October 2024 (photograph credited to Glynn Sellors).

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, October 2024 (photograph credited to Frank Goulding).

I really, really, really enjoyed the bird (it was one of the very best birds I've seen) and I was so glad I made the effort of going for it. 

As such, I can rightfully claim to be one of very, very few people who have seen two Pale-legged Leaf Warblers in Britain, albeit that one was very much deceased. What a grip-back; back from the dead!

Barrow’s Goldeneye – Ythan Estuary, Aberdeenshire, 16^th May 2005

This saga again involved another instance of me travelling the wrong way on the UK motorway network when a very good bird was available. The news broke on the pager on Friday the 13th May when, inevitably, I was driving south to spend the weekend in Ryton-on-Dunsmore. Yep, Friday the 13th.... . The news certainly wasn’t trivial; the second ever Barrow’s Goldeneye on the highly accessible Ythan Estuary in Aberdeenshire, just a small matter of 25.5 years after the first... .... .

I ‘endured’ a weekend with Elizabeth (only kidding Elizabeth!) before, on Sunday the 15th May, travelling back north to Mum’s in Burnley and staying overnight.

My punishing schedule then involved getting up at 06:00 the following morning and driving to the temporary offices of whichever British Gas derivative I was working for in Newmains, Wishaw in Lanarkshire. I worked (firstly in the office and then latterly on site) until 16:.00 when I sneaked away from work on a mission to unblock a blocker.

The journey to the Ythan Estuary from deepest Lanarkshire went well despite the time of day involved which resulted in rush hour traffic in Dundee at least.

It was strange to be passing through Angus and Dundee given that I would be intensively ‘doing it’ as part of a 24 hour bird race team the following Saturday.

Having been trapped by a road safety camera the preceding Saturday I was less than impressed to be apparently flashed at by another, and then to have a speed-gun waved at me by two policemen in a lay-by on the A90(T). Otherwise, the drive was uneventful(!) and I navigated my way through Aberdeen and on to Newburgh to arrive at the Ythan by 19:00. There was some urgency as the evening light was not the best, and could deteriorate at any time, especially given the bitter north-westerly wind lashing across the estuary to the viewpoint on the A975.

And the problem was where to begin? The pager offered some good clues, but no birders or pertinent birds were obvious from the big lay-by on the A975, so I quickly returned to the cottages further back along the road. From here, thankfully, a small group of Goldeneye were visible, and so I assembled my gear (minus a suitable coat, unfortunately) and crossed the road to a suitable look out.

Once sorted, the male Barrow’s Goldeneye was immediately obvious as it frequently dived, and occasionally preened and displayed (with its beak open!) amongst a flock of some twelve Goldeneye (although it stayed apart from the Goldeneyes at times). Views were good, if a little distant, although at times the bird was difficult to relocate after it dived due to the windy or choppy conditions.

It was, basically, superficially similar looking to male Goldeneye but was perhaps bulkier, with a different head shape, and had a white crescent on the lores, large, square scallops on the coverts and orange legs.

I enjoyed the trip very much; it was another belting tick, and the only real negative was the fish and chips on the way back.

Subsequently either the same bird or another was seen very well on the river in Callander on the 27th January 2007.

Barrow’s Goldeneye, Callendar, Stirling, January 2007 (photograph credited to Simon Knight).

Brünnich’s Guillemot – Portland Harbour, Portland, Dorset, 30^th December 2013

Wow!!

Who would have thought it?

Scored with Brünnich’s Guillemot on the penultimate day of 2013!

The bird had first been reported on Thursday the 19th December, but although it then hadn’t croaked and lingered day after day, Christmas nonsense and distance precluded any thoughts of going for it.

I had Christmas at home, and completed a vantage point survey at Greencraig on Saturday the 28th December.

Then, for unknown reasons I was on a train between Southport and Wigan on the 29th December (I assume I had been in Southport overnight?) as I have notes suggesting I saw Whooper Swans from the train near Martin Mere. Just what I had been up to, and why I wasn’t in my car I know not.

I do know that that once I was reunited with my car I was planning to drive to my Dad’s in Chesterfield for the New Year.

As it turned out, I did so via Portland in Dorset, as you do...... . The things you do when a good bird is available!

The first leg of this involved driving south on the M6 and the M5 to Somerset. From there it involved navigating through Somerset and Dorset from near Taunton, to Yeovil, to Dorchester, to Weymouth and finally Portland. This took some five hours, which meant, as it was mid-winter, the remaining daylight hours, once I finally got there, were a serious consideration.

Anyway, I duly made it by mid-afternoon, and parked up, assembled my gear, etc.. The bird was on the Portland side of the harbour, and was generally close inshore, moving rapidly (particularly when underwater) just off the nearly created sea defences and esplanade, the marinas and the buildings, jetties, etc., around Portland Castle.

Being a sunny day in the period between Christmas and New Year there were a good number of birders there, and we roved backwards and forwards attempting to keep up with the bird swimming and diving at ranges of approximately 50 – 100 m offshore.

I shan’t attempt to detail these toing and froings; suffice to say I quickly got my eye in and did my own thing tracking the bird more than adequately with just a little bit of intuition.

This was really instructive, as it was, if not in the company of, in proximity to both Guillemot and Razorbill.

As suggested, it was distinctive once you got your eye in. It was very black and white (unlike Guillemot). The subtleties of its plumage were interesting; there was something of a first-winter / winter plumage Puffin going on. It had a strong, thick bill, with highly distinctive white line along lower part of upper mandible.

Once I had enjoyed good views for a prolonged period, I journeyed on to Chesterfield through the middle of southern England.

Whether this whole experience stood me in any stead a few years later on Sunday the 25th September 2016 when Ken Shaw mobilised me to Anstruther to take in the Brünnich’s Guillemot he and Alan Lauder (et al.) had seen as they left the harbour for the Isle of May (and as such continue the good fight against the naysayers) is debatable.

I had really great views of this bird from the harbour walls and as such I was able to note the characteristics of this bird, and the differences this involved from the one I had seen in the depths of winter. It had the same ‘low in the water’ appearance, and also the winter Puffin-type plumage. The white line on the bill was a very subtle indistinct feature, and this in particular was the subject of much debate. Luminaries of the Scottish birding scene such as Martin Scott and Rab Shand were less than convinced, and Martin Scott had a call from Lee Evans asking (basically), “What the fuck was going on?”

Meanwhile, I was arguing (as best as I could) the case for Ken’s i.d., and providing Ken with feedback from the location on the ‘phone. All very, er, interesting, and very much saved by Willie Irvine, who was able to show us a back of the camera image of the bird which revealed the hard to see white tomium stripe.

It had a short bill, with a strongly curved upper mandible and discernible gonys, a pale bill tip, a tomium stripe, a ‘bumpy’ forehead, a ‘chunky’ head, and clean, white flanks. It also showed a little white flecking above the gape line and behind the eye and its upperparts showed brown hues which were somewhat ‘non textbook’ but presumably within the range of variation of a Brünnich’s Guillemot. For example, the brown hues were probably a function of the natural process of wear.

All very instructive, all the more so as it was in an atypical plumage in the UK context.

The Portland Harbour bird.

A key early photograph of the Brunnich’s Guillemot showing a hint of the tomium stripe (photograph credited to Willie Irvine).

The Anstruther Harbour bird.

…. with Ken Shaw’s flat in the background….