Black-billed Cuckoo – Piable, North Uist, Outer Hebrides, 24^th May 2016

Having returned from a very full-on week on the Isle of May on Saturday the 21st May, Sunday the 22nd was officially a slow day, involving some low-key, catching up, washing, etc.. I had plans for doing a lot of not very much for the day, and indeed for the days following.

However, at 17:54 that evening I received the rather incredible news that a Black-billed Cuckoo had been reported on North Uist; I was obviously very interested. When this message was repeated at 18:06 and then when it was confirmed and indicated it was still there at 18:20, 19:13, 19:40, 20:03, 20:29 and 21:02, I was completely galvanised (well, a bit!).

Obviously, it was a fantastic record, but, given the sad track record of this species in particular, was there any realistic prospect of catching up with it? Time would tell, but allowing time to elapse might also involve an increased risk of missing out.

I resolved to wait for any news the following morning. This came through as early as 06:19 on the morning of Monday the 23rd May. I was initially oblivious (i.e., asleep!) but as soon as I checked my mobile I was indeed (again) galvanised, and commenced making my plans for going, and changing my plans for what I was meant to be doing.

After some interminable faffing on the Calmac website, the 18:00 ferry from Uig to Lochmaddy was finally booked online by 07:45.

I hastily packed (though this was relatively easy as I had only partially unpacked on my return from the Isle of May and had tentatively sorted out a few things the previous evening), and prepared. I texted Tessa, whose 16th birthday was the following day, explaining that something had come up, and as such I would no longer be able to see her as we had planned and suggesting that I would call in to see her later..... . I also contacted each of John Nadin, Calum Scott, Dennis Morrison and Kris Gibb suggesting I was going for the cuckoo and offering a lift. John was travelling down south, Calum was finally on the Isle of May, and Dennis and Kris were otherwise committed with work, etc.. So, I was going alone.

I then loaded the car and departed for the Easter Bush Campus of the University of Edinburgh, where I had a previously arranged site visit to undertake involving monitoring the breeding Oystercatchers and liaising with several of the project personnel as appropriate. I completed this in record time, and then travelled to Tesco’s in Queensferry, where I had purchased some gift vouchers for Tessa by 10:18...... .

I then visited Tessa and explained to her (she hadn’t got my text...) that I wouldn’t be able to see her on her birthday, as something had come up. Bright girl that she is she responded by saying, “You’re going to see a bird aren’t you?” I confessed, but she was comfortingly sanguine, knowing her Dad too well.

Soon after 10:30 I was on my way, although immediately on leaving Dalmeny I was ‘phoned by my client at the University of Edinburgh seeking an update about the Oystercatcher work.

Thankfully, the rest of the journey to Uig was straightforward, and, in complete contrast to the same journey for the Gyr Falcon twitch, it was made in fantastic weather.

As a consequence, I arrived at Uig some 2 hours early, chilled in a way which didn’t seem right given the enormity of what was involved. I checked in, and waited for ferry to arrive and for the queue of traffic to drive onto the ferry.

The young woman at the Calmac office indicated that there had been a sudden upsurge in bookings, and certainly I was aware of a few birdy looking types in and around the assembled traffic. I retreated to the outside seating area of the restaurant / bar on the harbour side, and ordered a bacon roll and coffee and basked in the sun, reading my book (I had actually bought a book with me!).

Various people came and went from the same area, including a group of some of the birdy types I had noted. When I saw a Twite incongruously and inconspicuously feeding on a small patch of grass adjacent to the decking, I asked the presumed birders whether they were indeed birders and when they confirmed they were, pointed out the Twite to them. An elderly woman thanked me and indicated it was a new bird for her. I assumed she and her ‘group’ were twitchers from down south.

As with the drive from Edinburgh to Uig, the crossing from Uig to Lochmaddy was similarly uneventful. I birded throughout the crossing, though birds were very limited. Highlights were a probable Golden Eagle just outside Uig and a pod of dolphins before we reached The Minch. I called these for the assembled birders on deck, and still blithely assumed they were a loosely associated group of twitchers from down south.

I should have known better, especially as we arrived in Lochmaddy and there were a series of confused shouts relating to White-tailed Eagle and various divers, or not.... .

By then the tension had racketed up.

I descended through the decks to the car deck, and finished preparing my gear so that everything as ready for action, with no delays once there.

Fortunately I was towards the front of the ferry and so I disembarked relatively quickly. The adrenalin had really kicked in now and, in scenes reminiscent of the Long-tailed Shrike twitch I thrashed it to Paible at speeds in excess of 100 mph at times.

Once ‘there’ it was not apparent that I was there, and so I stopped and turned around and asked a crofter who was outside his house whether he knew where the cuckoo had been seen. He pointed me in the right direction (literally just over the hill further along the A865) so I turned around again and continued the way I was going. Once just over the hill it still wasn’t particularly apparent where I was meant to be (i.e., there were no birders on site!) so I again asked another crofter who was just going into his drive outside his house near the Paible junction, having just come off the ferry, whether he knew where the cuckoo had been seen. He confirmed he did, as his nephew had told him his garden had been full of twitchers earlier in the day!

By now other birders were arriving, and we decided we were finally there or thereabouts, and parked up. We worked out that the house and gardens between where we had parked alongside the A865 and the Paible junction was the scene of many recent sightings and set about looking for the bird.

The assembled crowd included the ‘birders from down south’ plus one or two others. There would have been some 12 or 14 people at most. Generally, most of them milled around on the road outside the house and gardens involved (i.e., the one with the red spot in the image included here). I (and one or two others) were somewhat more proactive; it was going to be dusk soon, and who knew whether the bird would survive another night?

I became aware that the woman who lived in the house was in the garden and was looking for the bird. Anticipating that this was good news, I loitered with intent, and when she came over, chatted to her. She was very friendly, and told us where she had seen the bird in her garden. She also told us where else it had been seen, and even told us that she had heard the bird calling! She also invited us into the garden to look for it.

I attempted to organise the assembled birders into some sort of co-ordinated action, suggesting that although we had been invited into the garden, that we should decide who amongst us should ‘go in’ and the rest should remain watch from the road. I looked around me for some likely accomplices; I was going in, but with whom else? This wasn’t easy, as by now I was less than inspired by those around me (one elderly woman actually played what I took to be Black-billed Cuckoo calls on her mobile; time may not have been on our side, but all the same!!). One candidate was obvious, and so I quickly nominated him. He proved to be Martin Culshaw. He and I then searched the garden to no avail, and it was apparent that despite my attempts at co-ordinated action, the whole approach was somewhat less than co-ordinated. So whilst the assembled crowd stood around chatting, Martin and I walked down the road to Paible towards other likely gardens, which may have been referenced by the woman in her garden.

We gave the garden around the first house on the Paible road a good looking at (i.e., the one with the blue spot in the image included here) to no avail. Except that, once we started making our way back from there, we suddenly heard shouts from the crowd back at the original garden. We ran back (or, in my case, sort of; it felt like a long time since I had been to the gym).

Once back, it emerged that the bird had been seen perching on the fence on the roadside near the garden we had been checking out before flying all the way back into the original garden. It would seem that we had both inadvertently and obliviously flushed the bird from the ditch alongside the triangular plot of land adjacent to the garden we had been checking out as we walked back, and it had perched on the roadside fence near the passing place sign before flying past the roadside crowd and diving into the cover of the original garden. Typical! So they didn’t do ‘owt (except to continue standing around and yakking) and saw it, whereas Martin and I actively searched for it and didn’t! No justice!

By now it was becoming apparent to me that the other ‘birders’ were not a group of loosely connected twitchers from down south, but rather, they were all members of Fife Bird Cub, and were on an organised trip to the Hebrides. Martin and I were informed what had happened by some of their number, and there were further not very co-ordinated attempts to locate the bird; Martin and I, and others again searched the garden from both inside and outside.

The Fife Bird Club members gradually sauntered off, presumably either satisfied with their views, or no longer interested, or more likely more interested in getting to their accommodation, checking in and having an evening meal. They slowly piled onto their mini-bus and eventually departed.

Just Martin and I remained, and I decided that I should circumnavigate the garden, again to no avail. By now the light was fading, and Martin and I were becoming resigned to our fate. We weren’t going to see it that night, and faced a long, sleepless (for several reasons!) night in our cars before returning, and hopefully finally catching up with the bird. Worse, wondering whether a three day stay for a Black-billed Cuckoo would be very likely. Would it survive a further night? Worse still, I was wracking my brains trying to remember whether Yank cuckoos were night migrants? Would it just leave? It was going to be a clear night...... . Aaargh!!! Very worrying times....... .

Just to make matters even worse, I was by now getting messages from John, Kris and Dennis asking whether I had connected. It was hard to explain in a brief message that some people had but I hadn’t...... .

Martin and I discussed our options in terms of where to park up for the night. As before, the Balranald RSPB Visitor Centre ‘car-park’ was the preferred option, but we realised that two cars parking overnight where there was a sign saying ‘No Overnight Parking’ might be stretching it. However, we both agreed that using the facilities there was a definite must.

I left first, and, having driven to the said location, cleaned my teeth, and then walked back to the nearby road junction, hearing but (inevitably) not seeing several Corncrakes.

Martin subsequently arrived and we discussed alternatives to Balranald RSPB Visitor Centre ‘car-park’. We opted for the area adjacent to Loch na Reivil, scene of my recent success with the Gyr Falcon.... .

Once here, I parked up and sorted myself out, and attempted to sleep. The Corncrakes which were calling nearby were the least of my problems. Getting comfortable and staying a suitable temperature (although it wasn’t especially cold) was difficult, but worse was the fact that every time I made a significant movement a motion sensor picked this up and the car alarm went off. Try as I might, I couldn’t disarm the car alarm, whether or not the car doors were locked, and so it went off all too frequently.

Black-billed Cuckoo, Piable, North Uist, Outer Hebrides, May 2016 (photograph credited to Stuart Piner).

Black-billed Cuckoo, Piable, North Uist, Outer Hebrides, May 2016 (photograph credited to unknown).

Eventually though, I managed some good, if brief, deep sleep – sat upright. Finally, it was time to get up (sometime between 04:00 and 05:00). Getting sorted involved little more than cleaning my teeth and putting in my contact lenses, as I was already fully dressed. The windscreen was misted up, but it soon became apparent that Martin had already gone.

I drove back to the same parking place we had used the previous night, and parked up and joined Martin.

Thankfully, we had the place to ourselves. In truth we were there a little early (the sun had yet to come up, although it was quite light). We waited and watched or searched and searched or watched and waited. We had perhaps been there for about an hour (and the sun had emerged above the skyline to the east) before it all happened.

Suddenly, I saw some leaves of a sycamore move in a way which had to involve something bigger than the Sedge Warbler or Chiffchaff that were singing in the garden. Suitably alerted, I then picked up on a movement of a bird which had to be ‘it’ as it flitted to the left through the canopy of the sycamore. Then, almost instantaneously ‘it’ suddenly broke cover and flew out of the garden. Cue massive relief and also, from me, a loud shout of, “Martin!”

Coincidentally or not, this apparently had the effect of causing the bird to change its mind and fly back into cover, having flown out over the road, and given me brief but excellent flight views. More predictably Martin was quickly at my side, and I talked him through what I had seen.

He patiently listened to my blow-by-blow account and then cut to the chase and checked out the north-western facing edge of the garden and commendably relocated it, perched low down just inside the fence-line.

We both enjoyed good binocular views before it suddenly made another foray out of the garden. Presumably this garden (which had the best cover) was the better place for roosting, but other nearby gardens in the valley to the southwest offered more sheltered places for feeding.

However, en route it helpfully stopped off on a relatively nearby local power transmission line, where it memorably showed in full view, in perfect light and at more or less eye-level for some minutes, allowing both Martin and I to enjoy very good ‘scope views.

I even started drawing it (although I later regretted not attempting some record shots of it). This ‘moment’ involved what were very definitely our best views. Just how long it remained there is no longer clear – but was probably just a couple of minutes or so. Similarly, just why it flew off to the garden where Martin and I had unknowingly ‘relocated’ it the previous evening is not known but it certainly coincided with the arrival of a car full of birders which pulled up on the adjacent roadside.

Martin and I ‘scoped the bird in the garden in the valley below from the A865 and then walked down towards it and continued to do the same, although by that time the car full of birders was already there. Their presence was less than helpful, as they used the car as a hide but perhaps edged too close to the bird and prevented us getting on it very easily as it moved around in the bushes and on the fences and walls on the boundaries of the large and otherwise bare garden. It subsequently emerged that they had all ‘slept’ in the car overnight (which explained their reluctance to get out of the car) and were presumably having a last look at the cuckoo before leaving to catch the morning ferry back to Uig.

Once they had left, Martin and I continued to have good, if intermittent, views of the bird, mainly in the bushes and on the fence on the rear boundary of the garden. The bird was mobile and could be elusive but we had had really good views, and as such we were relaxed, and regarded these additional views as a bonus. We chatted to the man who lived in the house when he came out to walk his two boisterous dogs, and he again invited us to go into the garden if we wanted to.

Subsequently we lost the bird, and so wandered further along the road towards the Struan House bed and breakfast where we chatted to a woman who was a guest there, and relocated the bird in the garden (i.e., the one with the yellow spot in the image included here). It was all very chilled.

Finally, at around about 09:00 we eventually left, having had very good relaxed views, and having decided we weren’t going to get any better. Coffee and breakfast were now the priority.... .

All in all, the twitch was truly fantastic experience, and involved a completely fantastic tick; not one that I ever really expected to catch up with.

Although I had previously seen Black-billed Cuckoo in Texas, it appeared somewhat smaller than I expected, being about Mistle Thrush size (though involving a smaller body and longer tail). I was belatedly struck by similarities with bee-eaters, especially in flight, but also at times when perching. The upperparts were a broadly concolourous mid-brown, and the under-parts were white, with a sharply defined boundary between the two running from the base of the bill, just underneath the eye, and on the sides of the neck to the back. The tail was perhaps the most distinctive feature, and was almost as long as the body and head, with a graduated end. The under-side of the tail involved pale rounded tips to the feathers which produced a subtle chequered pattern as the lengths of the tail feathers varied. The eye was black and surrounded by a vivid red eye-ring. The bill was reasonably stout and down-curved and dark grey, though the base and lower mandible may have been lighter grey.

Interestingly, when it was perched on the overhead wires back on, I noted that the larger remiges had a subtle two tone colouration, possibly analogous with iridescence. This is similarly apparent in the photograph which is why it was ‘selected’.

Also interestingly, the cuckoo was often ‘gently’ mobbed by Meadow Pipits (and also a Reed Bunting). How did they know it was a cuckoo?

As suggested, fantastic times...... . Further galvanised in my quest for 500!