Western Sandpiper – Musselburgh Lagoons, Musselburgh, East Lothian, 20th August 1997
For once my original notebook sketch is half decent, so my drawing has merely updated it. Heat haze was involved (or at least that's my story).
By then I had received a calling to return to work in Audley, Staffordshire. This I did on Wednesday the 13th August. Having already travelled to Scotland on the Monday, I was disinclined to travel back on the Friday, and so instead I stayed in Burnley. During the course of the weekend the message on the pager gradually changed, initially unnoticed by me.
The Semi-palmated Sandpiper was undergoing an identity crisis, and so the messages relating to it began to read Semi-palmated / Western Sandpiper. It now it became apparent why Jim Steele had indicated that Ian Andrews had been happy with the identification, as there had obviously been an element of doubt for some while.
As I was unaware at the time, it would seem that a photograph of the bird at Musselburgh was shown to Killian Mullarney at the Bird Fair, without putting it in context. He apparently immediately stated that the bird was a Western Sandpiper!!!! As a result, the bird obviously had the potential (at least), to be a very, very good tick, rather than just a very good Lothian / Scotland one. The pressure was on.
On Monday the 18th August I returned to work in Staffordshire, but as the bird proved to be still around, I changed my plans progressively, carrying out various site visits that day rather than the following one, as I had planned originally. On my return to Audley, I was retained for longer than I had intended, and eventually set off back to Scotland at 17:00, so arriving back in Edinburgh at 21:00, too late to do much about the bird.
By ‘coincidence’ the following day, the 19th August, I had the luck to go to Haddington to see my very good pipeline project colleague Nick Smith, calling at Fisherrow that morning and then to Musselburgh itself that afternoon. Here there were other birders, including such glitterati as Lee Evans and Dick Filby. Lee demanded to know whether I had seen the bird, and was perplexed to find that I hadn’t despite, living in Edinburgh.
I explained that currently I was working in Staffordshire and that I had stayed down south over the weekend whilst the identity crisis occurred. I compounded the disbelief Lee experienced by telling him that I had just come back from California, where we had seen hundreds of Western Sandpipers, including some within a couple of metres in Monterey Aquarium. He wanted to know how I had identified these birds and what plumage they were in, and so he was less than satisfied when I told him that we had not really got to grips with them beyond falling into the American trap of saying they were ‘peeps’, and that they just ‘were’ Westerns.
Anyway, despite lots of good chat and some serious searching by good national and local birders, over the course of several hours, nothing was seen of the bird that day. There was some dark murmuring about Steve Gantlett and Richard Millington having been kicking the bird all over the Fisherrow beach on the previous evening obviously being the reason why it hadn’t turned up that night.
The following day Gilly was on a course until 15:00 and as the high-tide wasn’t until about 16:30, I realised that there wouldn’t be any news until at least this time, so despite Gilly’s alternative suggestions, I decided we should wait until there was some news.
This we did despite Gilly ‘phoning from work to ask whether I would be meeting her in Edinburgh, prior to going to Musselburgh. I declined and so Gilly returned home, partly as we had received our long-awaited honeymoon holiday photographs in that morning’s post. So it was that we were looking through the photographs when the pager informed us that the ‘Western’ Sandpiper was at Musselburgh again, apparently at mouth of the Esk as the tide closed in. Looking at the wedding photographs was promptly suspended and 40 minutes later we were at Musselburgh.
The tide was now well in so we quickly made our way up onto the lagoon. I was more than pleased to see several birders next to a car on the embankment overlooking the assembled wader roost. I assumed that they had it staked out, and that a tick was imminent!
We quickly joined them and I was even more pleased to see a couple of familiar faces as we settled down alongside them. However, they indicated that they had a ‘strange’ tern, which very soon became a probable hybrid Sandwich x Lesser Crested Tern. This was all very well and good, but where was the sandpiper sp.? I made a tentative inquiry as to its whereabouts, only to be told that they hadn’t seen it since they had been watching it about an hour earlier at the Esk mouth, but they cheerily suggested that they would find it for me!
I was gratified by this but doubted their optimism, particularly as others and I had really worked for it during much of the roost the previous afternoon. However, we scanned the roost with no success, but literally within minutes of our arrival a group of twelve or so small waders suddenly flew in from behind us. One of our group indicated that ‘it’ was with them, but all I could see was Ringed Plover. Then, once they had pitched in it was again suggested that the ‘peep’ was amongst them, but it was a 1st winter Sanderling, or at least that was all I could see. Our informant then again said it was there. Finally, though, I did manage to pick it out from amongst the Ringed Plover. Despite only having her binoculars Gilly was quickly onto it as well.
We watched it from our initial vantage point for a while, and then I returned to the car to get my notebook, camera, books etc.. As I walked back I had 14 Whimbrel overhead, but surprisingly the others missed them. This prompted two of them to go to the wader scrape in search of them. As a result they found that the ‘peep’ was less obscured from further along. We therefore moved along as well, and were soon joined by two of the birders I had met on the previous day.
The bird remained on view throughout the next two hours during which time good views were obtained at what was a reasonable range in good light, although frequently it was at least partially obscured. My views of it were helped by loans of various ‘scopes through which I got better still views, so that I was able to study the bird well, and to sketch it well as part of the process.
The bird was watched in what was a relaxed atmosphere, similar to the Collared Flycatcher perhaps. Again there was lots of good chat, but this didn’t distract from the study of this contentious bird, in fact it added to it.
It was an obvious ‘peep’ for which the miniature Dunlin analogy really worked, particularly if it was applied to an adult of one of the long-billed races in winter plumage. It was watched roosting amongst Ringed Plover and Dunlin in runnel depressions in the fly-ash near the lagoon, often partially obscured as a result; as it was sleeping or often standing on one leg whilst roosting, it was difficult to gain any really useful impression of jizz.
I explained that currently I was working in Staffordshire and that I had stayed down south over the weekend whilst the identity crisis occurred. I compounded the disbelief Lee experienced by telling him that I had just come back from California, where we had seen hundreds of Western Sandpipers, including some within a couple of metres in Monterey Aquarium. He wanted to know how I had identified these birds and what plumage they were in, and so he was less than satisfied when I told him that we had not really got to grips with them beyond falling into the American trap of saying they were ‘peeps’, and that they just ‘were’ Westerns.
Anyway, despite lots of good chat and some serious searching by good national and local birders, over the course of several hours, nothing was seen of the bird that day. There was some dark murmuring about Steve Gantlett and Richard Millington having been kicking the bird all over the Fisherrow beach on the previous evening obviously being the reason why it hadn’t turned up that night.
The following day Gilly was on a course until 15:00 and as the high-tide wasn’t until about 16:30, I realised that there wouldn’t be any news until at least this time, so despite Gilly’s alternative suggestions, I decided we should wait until there was some news.
This we did despite Gilly ‘phoning from work to ask whether I would be meeting her in Edinburgh, prior to going to Musselburgh. I declined and so Gilly returned home, partly as we had received our long-awaited honeymoon holiday photographs in that morning’s post. So it was that we were looking through the photographs when the pager informed us that the ‘Western’ Sandpiper was at Musselburgh again, apparently at mouth of the Esk as the tide closed in. Looking at the wedding photographs was promptly suspended and 40 minutes later we were at Musselburgh.
The tide was now well in so we quickly made our way up onto the lagoon. I was more than pleased to see several birders next to a car on the embankment overlooking the assembled wader roost. I assumed that they had it staked out, and that a tick was imminent!
We quickly joined them and I was even more pleased to see a couple of familiar faces as we settled down alongside them. However, they indicated that they had a ‘strange’ tern, which very soon became a probable hybrid Sandwich x Lesser Crested Tern. This was all very well and good, but where was the sandpiper sp.? I made a tentative inquiry as to its whereabouts, only to be told that they hadn’t seen it since they had been watching it about an hour earlier at the Esk mouth, but they cheerily suggested that they would find it for me!
I was gratified by this but doubted their optimism, particularly as others and I had really worked for it during much of the roost the previous afternoon. However, we scanned the roost with no success, but literally within minutes of our arrival a group of twelve or so small waders suddenly flew in from behind us. One of our group indicated that ‘it’ was with them, but all I could see was Ringed Plover. Then, once they had pitched in it was again suggested that the ‘peep’ was amongst them, but it was a 1st winter Sanderling, or at least that was all I could see. Our informant then again said it was there. Finally, though, I did manage to pick it out from amongst the Ringed Plover. Despite only having her binoculars Gilly was quickly onto it as well.
We watched it from our initial vantage point for a while, and then I returned to the car to get my notebook, camera, books etc.. As I walked back I had 14 Whimbrel overhead, but surprisingly the others missed them. This prompted two of them to go to the wader scrape in search of them. As a result they found that the ‘peep’ was less obscured from further along. We therefore moved along as well, and were soon joined by two of the birders I had met on the previous day.
The bird remained on view throughout the next two hours during which time good views were obtained at what was a reasonable range in good light, although frequently it was at least partially obscured. My views of it were helped by loans of various ‘scopes through which I got better still views, so that I was able to study the bird well, and to sketch it well as part of the process.
The bird was watched in what was a relaxed atmosphere, similar to the Collared Flycatcher perhaps. Again there was lots of good chat, but this didn’t distract from the study of this contentious bird, in fact it added to it.
It was an obvious ‘peep’ for which the miniature Dunlin analogy really worked, particularly if it was applied to an adult of one of the long-billed races in winter plumage. It was watched roosting amongst Ringed Plover and Dunlin in runnel depressions in the fly-ash near the lagoon, often partially obscured as a result; as it was sleeping or often standing on one leg whilst roosting, it was difficult to gain any really useful impression of jizz.
However, the field sketch made during the initial part of the period during which it was watched is a reasonable likeness of the bird. The bill appeared long and tapered to a fine point, and also seemed slightly decurved, adding to the Dunlin (alpina) analogy. The crown was slightly darker than the rest of the upperparts and was finely streaked with dark lines. There was a distinct whitish supercilium that joined the base of the bill in front of the eye and then broadened towards the eye, and beyond, where it terminated in a square-end whilst still broad. Above the eye itself the supercilium was partially broken by dark streaking, which was similar to the crown. There was an eye-stripe of similar dark streaking running from the base of the bill to the ear-coverts. The rest of the head was light brownish grey. The upperparts were light brownish grey with little marking, although the coverts had darker centres. The underparts were white, although there was an epaulette of darker fine streaking on the breast sides. Due to the wind direction and the direction from which the bird watched the front of the breast was not seen so any fine streaking was not observed. The legs appeared to be black, and although they were reasonably long, they did not give the bird the tottering appearance of the birds seen in Monterey Aquarium.
After this close-ish examination had ended the bird departed just as suddenly as it has arrived, again in the company of Ringed Plover and Dunlin. We followed to the other side of the Esk but never caught up with it again. Following my attempts at grilling this enigma, and after referring to all my references I certainly leaned towards it being a long-billed Semi-palmated Sandpiper, on the basis of the following criteria:
Further, the bird was reminiscent of the adult winter Semi-palmated Sandpiper I saw at Sidlesham Ferry, Sussex in November 1988. I resigned myself to awaiting the judgement of my superiors...... .
The following month Birding World obviously contained an account of the occurrence, complete with the photographs by Gary Bellingham that had allowed Killian Mullarney to suggest the real identity of this bird in the first place.
Although not reaching the same final conclusion following my studies of the bird, I was still very pleased with what I had picked up on in my description. Therefore, I have not altered history by changing my original account, as is detailed here. Given the views I had of a roosting bird I stand by my description. Obviously the jizz and bill were real clinchers in terms of my views, whilst the light apparently affected the colour tone of the upperparts (a mute point at the best of times) and I was too far away (or the bird hadn’t been cooperative enough) to get views of the upper breast streaking.
And anyway, hadn’t the author of the article in Birding World told Jim Steele that it was definitely a Semi-palmated Sandpiper at the beginning of the saga? He didn’t mention this in his article, unlike some.
Western Sandpiper, Musselburgh lagoons, Musselburgh, East Lothian, July 1997 (photograph credited to Iain Leach).
After this close-ish examination had ended the bird departed just as suddenly as it has arrived, again in the company of Ringed Plover and Dunlin. We followed to the other side of the Esk but never caught up with it again. Following my attempts at grilling this enigma, and after referring to all my references I certainly leaned towards it being a long-billed Semi-palmated Sandpiper, on the basis of the following criteria:
The following month Birding World obviously contained an account of the occurrence, complete with the photographs by Gary Bellingham that had allowed Killian Mullarney to suggest the real identity of this bird in the first place.
Although not reaching the same final conclusion following my studies of the bird, I was still very pleased with what I had picked up on in my description. Therefore, I have not altered history by changing my original account, as is detailed here. Given the views I had of a roosting bird I stand by my description. Obviously the jizz and bill were real clinchers in terms of my views, whilst the light apparently affected the colour tone of the upperparts (a mute point at the best of times) and I was too far away (or the bird hadn’t been cooperative enough) to get views of the upper breast streaking.
And anyway, hadn’t the author of the article in Birding World told Jim Steele that it was definitely a Semi-palmated Sandpiper at the beginning of the saga? He didn’t mention this in his article, unlike some.
I had really
enjoyed the whole saga. It was all very instructive and productive, especially
as it all took place in the environs of Edinburgh.
Great post Brian. I twitched the Semi p, a lifer at the time. While watching it, someone came along and said Killian says its Western!
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