Eastern Olivaceous Warbler – Collieston, Aberdeenshire, 16^th September 2000

Not sure why, and maybe just excuses, but I quite like this improvised 'half-finished' field sketch attempt to illustrate the Eastern Olivaceous Warbler. It occurred to me that there was limited sense in trying to capture every last detail of every feather tract of a bird we can't (since the advent of Western and Eastern) identify in the field, and anyway, bet of luck getting it to pose in the open long enough to be able to sketch all of it! So this will have to do.

The news of an (Eastern) Olivaceous Warbler at Collieston, in Aberdeenshire on Wednesday the 13th September 2000 had me jumping about somewhat whilst I was waiting for Gillian to return with Ellen and Tessa. I began to instantly formulate my plans, ‘phoning Graham Clark and generally getting ready to go, come what may.

Once Gillian and the girls returned, I discussed my plans with her, and, as a result, it was agreed that I should take Ellen. We jointly packed up everything I might need for her, and then Ellen and I departed at c.12:37.

Despite the fuel crisis and speed cameras on the A90(T), I was determined to get there as soon as possible, and we did so at about 15:00.

I found the scene of the twitch easily enough, which proved to be an area of lawn with a caravan and car access behind some large old houses and gardens in the village of Collieston. This seemed ideal for Ellen as we were away from the road and so it proved, generally so at least. She was in her element and was befriended by a young boy from one of the houses, who offered her some of his chocolate bar.

Unfortunately, despite these seemingly ideal circumstances, the bird was not to be found.

After bribes in the form of a Milky Bar and also a nappy change, we moved to the Manse garden, which seemed to offer more prospect of the bird being there. Again, the proved to be ideal for Ellen, as there was a large lawn surrounded by the wooded cover in which her Dad hoped to locate the bird.

She really enjoyed this setting, in particular the steep slope, which she tried to climb up and down with mixed success, as well as the garden bench and the porch of the Manse, which she invited herself into. Perhaps she was trying to tell me she was cold. The small assembly seemed to cope with her presence in good spirit, but still the bird wasn’t found.

We took the hint and travelled back, stopping off in Stonehaven for fish and chips….. Damn, I had dipped!

However, the bird stuck and so at c.08:20 on Saturday the 16th September, Graham and I left for a weekend in the Aberdeenshire, the prime purpose of which, as far as I was concerned, was to finally get to grips with the Olivaceous Warbler. We arrived at c.11:00 to be told by Angus Murray, Calum Scott, et al., that we had missed it showing well at the Manse garden – by 10 minutes!

We, or particularly I, then endured 3.5 hours of misery trying to get good views of the bird. It continually eluded my forlorn attempts to see it both at the Manse garden, and after it had been flushed (possibly by me!) back at the gardens behind the Post Office. Apart from a Pied Flycatcher and some Goldcrests, I saw little throughout this period. Graham did get adequate views during this time, but for me anyway, these views were dire. When the bird was showing it was always obscured, and often I was only able to follow its movements by following the movements of vegetation.

Graham left to go off birding at c.14:30, after which I preceded to get some 2.5 hours of good views, until his return. Initially, it was watched as it slowly worked its way through the coppiced willows, again betrayed only by the movement of branches, before it finally gave itself up in the dog rose hedge alongside the field and then in the lower branches of the conifer. From then on, it was generally in view in either of the two sycamores or in the conifer.

Whether this apparent change in behaviour was due to the warm afternoon sunshine (in contrast to the weather of the midweek afternoon visit) or the gradual reduction of numbers of birders looking for it (eventually I was one of two people watching it) was not clear, but it certainly did show well for much of the afternoon. Often, especially when it was in the sycamores, I was able to get on it with the ‘scope, and as a result I was able to examine it in some detail.

In flight the bird looked like a large warbler and was apparently grey (a similar shade to male Blackcap). However, when feeding and working its way through the branches of its chosen vegetation, it looked a browner colour

Although a Hippolais warbler, was superficially like a bleached Reed Warbler, both in structure and plumage. It was perhaps a few millimetres bigger than a Reed Warbler, but had a more attenuated appearance, particularly regarding the head and bill. The forehead was flat and sloping, and the bill was long and narrow, with a yellowish base to the dull grey-brown lower mandible. The upper mandible was also dull grey-brown. The ‘facial expression’ was blank, due to a faint supercilium that was concentrated in front of the eye and ended at the rear edge of the indistinct eye-ring with which it merged.

Tail flicking was not seen very often, if at all, and the grey-white outer edges and white tips to outer tail feathers were also not observed. It was though, heard to call very occasionally, a clicking ‘clack’ typically of such species.

It was apparently of the elaeica race (and as such subsequently became a full species, Eastern Olivaceous Warbler, in its own right).

It was eventually seen really well, and although examined in some considerable detail, and obviously an Olivaceous Warbler, the subtle nuances of its plumage compared to confusion species such as Reed Warbler and Booted Warbler and features such as the primary projection, tail-flicking, etc., not necessarily observed.

Eastern Olivaceous Warbler in the hand, Collieston, Aberdeenshire, September 2000 (photograph credited to Paul Baxter).

Gull-billed Tern – Penclacwydd Wildfowl and Wetlands Reserve, near Llanelli, Carmarthenshire, 19^th July 1996

Patience pays off. Having previously bemoaned my luck being in Central Scotland when this potential tick had reappeared in South Wales for the second weekend running, I scored the following Friday. It was my ex’s Gilly long weekend, so I too left work in mid afternoon on the Thursday, to meet up with Gilly and travel to my mother’s in Burnley / her parents in Accrington, taking in the Spanish Sparrow on the edge of the Lake District on the way (if only it was that easy on the previous Sunday!). As we got to Lancashire, a message on the pager informed me that Phil from Bolton was offering a lift. I ‘phoned him from Gilly’s parents, and after he had given me copious amounts of directions, he then suggested a 02:00 departure. I was knackered anyway as it was so, belatedly I declined the offer!

Consequently, I was faced with another solo twitch as Gilly in turn declined my offer. I set the alarm, not knowing what time I wanted to get up at, but, as it was, I awoke anyway at 04:45 and so was away by 05:15. With minor delays in the vicinities of the Birmingham and Cardiff conurbations I made good progress into deepest South Wales. The pager had told me that the bird was still present, on the estuary from the Copperhouse roundabout, but then at 09:06, as I approached Llanelli, the news was updated to say that the bird had left there and flown towards the Penclacwydd Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust reserve. I was therefore able to drive straight there, following the brown ‘constipated duck’ signs. The only trouble was that it wasn’t open until after 09:30. However, just when I was thinking it might have disappeared again by this time, at 09:16, as I got closer, a further message told me that the reserve was now open.

Once there I assembled my gear, and on reaching the entrance was greeted by a very enthusiastic staff member. I paid my (reduced) entrance fee, and was then escorted to the British Steel Hide. From here views across the saltmarsh and pools were possible. Roosting alongside the pools were flocks of Black-headed Gulls, amongst which was the Gull-billed Tern.

I took it in well, as at first it was roosting (looking almost moribund and so easy to draw), but later becoming more active. It flew around circling and wheeling over the saltmarsh, and showing well, at one stage mobbing a Grey Heron with an eel. It continued this pattern of resting and then flying around throughout my stay. 

The atmosphere in the hide was comparatively relaxed due to the ease of seeing this otherwise difficult bird. At one stage it was noted by the assembled crowd in the hide, including Lee Evans, to be really struggling to scratch itself with its right foot. It became apparent that its left leg was gammy as it badly hobbled each time it attempted to stand on its left leg. I said something like, “I wonder how long it will take it to work out that if it swims it will be able to scratch its head whilst it floats,” at which point someone suggested, rather bizarrely, that I must have been a Gull-billed Tern in a past life!?*?

It was excellent to get such good views of an otherwise difficult bird. Its overall appearance was similar, obviously, to Sandwich Tern, with the same basic plumage pattern of light grey upperparts and white underparts, and a black cap. However, the build was heavier, and it was longer legged. The legs were black, as was the bill which was a sturdy dagger shape. The black cap was more like Common Tern in size and shape. Whilst resting, the tail streamers were observed to be just longer than the wing tips, although it was not noted whether this was the case when the bird standing. In flight, the upperwing showed a definite primary wedge on the outer primaries, which was also observed on the underwing. The tail was only slightly forked, perhaps as it was in moult.

An excellent bird, leaving me very grateful that finally one had stayed around!

A general view from the hide at Penclacwydd WWT Reserve.

Gull-billed Tern at Penclacwydd WWT Reserve, Llanelli. Carmathenshire, July 1996 (photograph credited to George Reszeter).

White-tailed Lapwing – Caerlaverock Wildfowl and Wetlands Reserve, Caerlaverock, Dumfries and Galloway, 6^th June 2007

At 10:32 on the morning of Wednesday the 6th June I was travelling south on the M74 to Elizabeth’s in Ryton-on-Dunsmore, Warwickshire. (Warwickshire, where the only previous twitchable White-tailed Plover (as it was in old currency) had been, in 1975; I could have seen it if only I’d starting twitching 18 years before I did!).

I was just passing Ecclefechan when I received a text from my erstwhile mate Stuart Green saying, “There’s a White-tailed Plover at Caerlaverock. Not a wind up”. Driving or not, I immediately ‘phoned Stuart (who was seemingly doing a vantage point survey on a hill somewhere in Ayrshire) for confirmation. However, concurrently, (i.e., also timed at 10:32) I also received a message on my pager telling me the same thing. Stuart informed me that he too was on his way; he was abandoning his survey to twitch Caerlaverock from deepest Ayrshire.

Anyway, suitably motivated, I, er, ‘put my foot down’, and hammered to Caerlaverock. Now, as it turns out, there was a quicker cross-country route from Ecclefechan to Caerlaverock but as I was already on the M74 I continued on to the A75(T) and then west to Dumfries.

Anyway, less than 40 minutes after the news broke I arrived at Caerlaverock, probably amongst the very first person to arrive. It was 11:10.

Having parked up, and gathered my gear. As I did so, another birder arrived and I excitedly asked him if he was here to see the plover. I had misjudged him as he proved to be something of a novice, who, unsurprisingly was oblivious of any such news.

Anyway, I rushed quickly to reception and paid in. I cannot remember whether I received any guidance as to where the bird was at reception (or whether I knew this from the pager messages), but I rushed to Hide 8.

On arrival, rather than a hide full of celebrating twitchers, all eager to get me on the bird, it turned out to be just me and the novice I had met earlier in the car-park!

A what now? Said novice in an otherwise empty hide looking for a complete crip he'd never heard of.

Anyway, thankfully, I was, without too much trouble, able to relocate the bird, such that at 11:39 (less than an hour after first getting the news) I ‘phoned an update to good old Angus ‘Timothy’ Murray at Birdline Scotland.

I enjoyed the bird, and particularly enjoyed virtually having it to myself but obviously other then gradually began to arrive, including Mark Hannay, my land-owner friend from Gatehouse-of-Fleet in Galloway, who I had alerted.

He and I then we went to the Tower Hide, where views were much better (as it was elevated and the bird wasn’t as obscured) but more distant, and by then disrupted by the crowded hordes.

Eventually, because of this, I decided it was time to cut my losses and continue my journey south, having very fortuitously been in the right place at the right time to bang in an amazing bird en route. It was a fourth for Britain (and so supremely rare, certainly at the time!). It wasn’t always like that!

What can I say? Sex on legs! It was an adult, and had mainly buffy light brown upper-parts and under-parts, although the plain face, cheeks and throat and lower breast and under-tail coverts were white. The striking black and white ‘lapwing’ wing pattern was largely hidden at rest (although black and white bands could be seen along the closed wing). It had a longish Lapwing-type black bill, and extra-ordinarily long bright yellow legs. In flight in had solid black wing tips, and broad white mid-wing band and a white rump and tail, beyond which (unsurprisingly!) the long yellow legs trailed.

Stuart never did make it. He ploughed into the back on a car turning right on the notorious A75(T). Fortunately, everyone was alright, but this twitching thing...!

White-tailed Lapwing at Caerlaverock WWT Reserve, Caerlaverock, Dumfries and Galloway, June 2007 (photograph credited to Paul Bowyer).

White-tailed Lapwing at Caerlaverock WWT Reserve, Caerlaverock, Dumfries and Galloway, June 2007 (photograph credited to Paul Bowyer).

 Pallid Harrier – Elmley RSPB Reserve, Isle of Sheppey, Kent, 15^th August 2002

My sketch drawing of the Pallid Harrier, attempting and failing to 'capture' the views involved, which were distant, and in soft, evening light and through a blizzard of thistle down. Somewhat of a challenge for my artistic 'ability'.

On Saturday the 10^th August 2002 news of a seemingly good Slender-billed Curlew (*%@****!) again in Northumberland was accompanied with more than a mild flurry of anticipation. This flurry disappeared almost straight away only to be replaced by the desperation of a bloody good bird down south with no prospect of getting there – a Pallid Harrier at Elmley, Kent. I suffered in relative silence, biding my time….. .

Once back at work in Hammersmith, London, I spoke to my St. Albans based mates; Pete Ewer had seen it on the Sunday having driven to Elmley from Cley and Mike Thompson had reverted to his ‘seen it elsewhere in the W. Palaearctic / World mode’ and wasn't interested, having just come back from Ecuador and the Galapagos.

I briefly thought about a train journey or something, but decided that I was too busy at work and what the hell.

However, I remembered that Graham Clark was driving down from Edinburgh to stop over at his Mum's in Rickmansworth before leading his next Limosa trip, to Rumania – including three days on a barge in the Danube delta after all the floods in Central Europe!!!!. We had planned to meet up anyway for a pint on the Thursday night in St. Albans, possibly after visiting Tring Reservoirs…..

When I contacted Graham early in the week, he said he would be up for the harrier if it was still around on Thursday.... .

How pissed off was I when it was reported as flying off high to the north-west on Wednesday and then not reported again! Graham and I resigned ourselves to Plan A.

So when the news of its ‘reappearance’ came on the pager on the Thursday early pm I was an extremely happy man. With some difficulty I managed to contact Graham, who was on a map buying expedition to Stanfords in Central London and didn't know about its reappearance as the message was paged when he was on the Underground. As a result, it wasn’t until I got to my flat in St. Albans that I was finally able to speak to him, although I had been able to leave messages with his Mum and on his mobile. I had left work early for an ‘interview’, and got to my flat by 15:30; in the meanwhile, the battery of my mobile had packed up, so until I managed to speak to Graham things had been quite fraught for me – would my gamble pay off?

Indeed, his mother was quite dismissive of the concept I explained, on the understandable basis that Graham had driven down to Rickmansworth the previous day and was getting up at 04:30 the following morning to be at Heathrow earlier than his clients. I had some faith, and so it proved when I finally managed to speak to Graham once back at my flat. He was up for it!

There was a slight catch in that having returned from London Graham still had some chores to do, including sending off his pager to RBA for a ‘brain operation’ whilst he was away in Rumania.

However, I occupied myself with some DIY, and having done this and got ready for a mad twitch, Graham eventually arrived at 17:00 and shortly afterwards we were tonking along the rush hour M25 and M20 and M2. There were some minor delays due to a thunder shower, but otherwise Grahams’ passion got us there very quickly, getting to Elmley at 18:30 – St. Albans to Elmley RSPB Reserve in less than 90 minutes! Meanwhile, there was some news in the affirmative to spur us on during the journey. Graham had never previously had the pleasure of Sheppey so I was able to prepare him and also reminisce about my earlier visits there.

On arrival, Elmley struck us both as being is not somewhere where you would want to be looking for something highly mobile on your own with its’ vast landscape of grazing marshes and vast skyscapes. No birders cars or birders were initially in view but fortunately as we approached the hill upon which the reserve centre at Kingshill Farm is situated, to my relief, both were visible.

Fortunately, about 25 birders were already there and had it staked out as it was perched on the ground. Unfortunately that was what it did for the majority of the time – and so seeing the key i.d. features was limited to a few short and distant flight views. However, given that it was no hassle to park amongst those birders already there and that I got a quick look at it in someone else’s ‘scope, before leisurely taking turns to look at it through Graham’s over the course of the next hour or more.

This was very relaxing, having left work behind early that afternoon and spent some time at home, I was now looking at a bird I had always wanted to see in the UK., and despite being in southern Britain, near the motorway network, there were very few other birders there.

I took in the bird as best I could, but it was distant, and most of the time partially obscured by the vegetation in the field within which it was perched on the ground. Although the light was initially good, this began to fade, and there was lots of shadow, whilst at the same time there was also some heat haze, and a constant light blizzard of thistle down. Towards the end of our stay, the bird become more active, flying around and perching on fence-posts, and generally showing better. However, by this time the light had significantly deteriorated, with the result that Graham and I eventually lost the bird.

By then though, it was duly on my list. Whilst on the ground (which was interesting enough, just seeing a harrier on the ground) it was a typical male grey type harrier. However, there was the perception of it being a relatively slight harrier, even though there was nothing for it to be relative to. It just looked to be rather delicate. In terms of plumage, the overall colour was obviously a pale grey, but around the upper breast this appeared to be lighter, whilst the scapulars and wing coverts appeared to be darker than would be expected in a fully adult bird. In addition, at certain angles the face pattern appeared to involve as darker mask area around the eye. As such, the bird sometimes recalled a Black-shouldered Kite in a similar sub-adult plumage.

The most diagnostic and dramatic moment came the second time the bird flew. The previous time it flew just a few metres and then landed again. However, this time, as I was watching it through the ‘scope I was able to get almost a ‘freeze-frame’ view of its fully raised right wing, revealing the neat thin lozenge-shaped black wedge at the tip of the central primaries. On the previous occasion I had observed that on the upper-wing these patches appeared to be a very dark brown and slightly diffuse.

Very little other plumage detail was noted, but that was enough – I had got my ‘fix’ on its i.d.. I wasn’t really able to appreciate any detail regarding the soft parts.

In flight the bird was a typical harrier, but looked reasonably slight in terms of its build.

I also managed Peregrine, Hobby, Kestrel, Marsh Harrier, Little Owl, c.100 Yellow Wagtail, c.3 Wheatears, etc., in our hour and a half stay. Catching up with such a good tick was excellent news particularly after the disappointment of the weekend, Burnley getting thrashed 3-1 at home, and my consolation prize disappearing – only to reappear!!! And we still got in our beer in St. Albans.

  Pallid Harrier, Elmley RSPB Reserve, August 2001 (photograph credited to Richard Andrews).

Many years later, in May 2017, I saw the fantastic displaying male near Dunsop Bridge in Bowland Lancashire. This was a mixed experience as watching the bird sky-dancing was absolutely superb, but a complete **** gamekeeper rather spoilt the ambience, and I was journeying back from my father’s funeral.

Western Orphean Warbler – Hartlepool Headland, Hartlepool, Cleveland, 29^th May 2012

Although the Western Orphean Warbler showed throughout my visit, it was very inactive (and often partially obscured) possibly reflecting its very recent arrival, making any views of its key features beyond the obvious very hard to obtain. So, although I certainly didn't see it in the hand, I've opted to do an 'in the hand field sketch' annotated with the features flagged up in the article about the bird on Birding Frontiers by the one and only Martin Garner.

As had been the case a year earlier, in spring 2012 I was very busy managing and undertaking bird surveys in relation to both the proposed Carcant and Cormaud wind-farms and also working various other smaller projects. Although I had enjoyed something of a recreational weekend on Saturday the 26th May when I had participated in a South East Scotland Branch of Butterfly Conservation walk at Burnmouth in the Scottish Borders to see Small Blue, it was all work and no play. It would take something very significant to break this.

Something very significant duly occurred on the morning of the Tuesday the 29th May and (learning from the experience of the White-throated Robin almost exactly year earlier at the exact same place) I ‘phoned Kris Gibb straight away.

He was up for going straight away too and so basically, we went there and then.

Any notes (and memories!) are very sketchy but I obviously quickly assembled my gear, chucked it and myself into the car, and departed prompto. Unlike the previous year when I had twitched the White-throated Robin with Mike Thrower, I cannot pretend that I remember picking Kris up and chatting to him. That is, I don’t know where we rendezvoused or what we chatted about en route, but I suspect I picked Kris up at the same sort of place I had collected Mike from, and undoubtedly we had a good chat all the way to Hartlepool Headland.

This was an easy journey as it was informed by what had been exactly the same journey a year earlier.

So we made it in good time and parked up wherever we could and quickly ‘strolled’ over to the bowling green. Here, an impromptu ‘pay to enter’ system had hurriedly and commendably been set up. We did so and walked into the bowling green complex itself. Alongside the side of green that the pavilion was on birders were assembled and more birders were also scattered alongside the green on the road side of the complex.

Western Orphean Warbler twitch at Hartlepool Headland, May 2012 (photograph credited to Martin Garner).

The set-up was great as there were wide tarmac paths around the green, and the number of birders present was manageable. As the news had broken just a few hours earlier and birders were travelling from all over the country there were a constant stream of birders arriving and leaving, which kept things manageable.

Most importantly, the bird was showing and so birders were concentrating on taking it in and were not moving around unduly, except if they were arriving or leaving. Importantly this allowed those connected with the bowling club to be relaxed about this sudden invasion of their space; incredibly it was even permissible to sit on the edge of the gutter with your feet on the green! Indeed, this is what I did once I had found myself a suitable place to do so.

Did I say the bird was showing? It was, more or less constantly, but mainly because it was sitting still in the shrubs at the opposite side of the green. Once it was located it could be closely (if a little distantly) observed in the ‘scope as it was static. I have very vague memories that at one stage it left the cover it was in a more actively moved to the side of the green to my right to feed in cover there. But mainly it was static...... ; even when it was active I noted it ‘clambered about’ like a Barred Warbler.

It was a largish sylvia warbler that was a first summer bird, which had slightly brownish mid-grey upper-parts and off-white under-parts. It had a Dipper like head pattern involving a very dark grey cap which extended below the eye onto the cheeks and a white throat and a paler, rustier panel on the remiges. It had a pale-ish eye, and a heavy dark bill and grey legs.

It was the second ever Western Orphean Warbler although this is complicated by the recent separation of Western and Eastern Orphean Warblers (there is just one accepted record of Eastern Orphean Warbler) and there are four records of non-specific Orphean Warbler spp., (including Mick Turton’s famous Kitty Down, St. Mary’s bird, “Ken. Dost thy need Orphean, like?”).

The whole experience was a very good one; I always did have a lot of time for Kris, and I enjoyed the whole ‘feel’ of the twitch which was very sociable. For example, I introduced Kris to Martin Garner (as they were both going to be on Foula in the autumn?), and I enjoyed seeing the Durham Bird Club plaque commemorating the Dusky Thrush that was seen nearby in December 1959, the second ever.

Western Orphean Warbler twitch at Hartlepool Headland, May 2012, with the outstretched legs of yours truly well and truly on the green….. (photograph credited to Jason Stannage).

Western Orphean Warbler at Hartlepool Headland, May 2012(photograph credited to Adrian Webb).

American Redstart – Eoligarry, Barra, Outer Hebrides, 12^th September 2017

If the successful twitch to Orkney and North Ronaldsay for the Red-winged Blackbird earlier in 2017 seemed like eons ago, the successful twitches to the Outer Hebrides and North Uist and Barra for Gyr Falcon, American Herring Gull and Black-billed Cuckoo seemed like eons squared ago.

But you just never know when another twitch might be in the offing. As ever with such circumstances, I can clearly remember the news breaking. On the morning of Thursday the 7th September, several of us (including John Nadin) were outside the Low Light on the Isle of May when Ken Shaw looked at his pager and quietly announced (everything is relative) that, in effect, an incredible bird had turned up.

He didn’t directly say what it was but rather chose to play a game with it.... . Clues included, ‘an American Warbler’, but ‘not a warbler’, but ‘nice link between the Old World and the New World’, ‘I (i.e., me!) needed it’, ‘two in rapid succession both of which involved women as the co-finders’, etc..

After a lot of agonising, and failed guessing, I eventually realised that I hadn’t considered American Redstart, and Ken confirmed that this was right, and that the bird was on Barra.

Now, this obviously exercised my mind greatly, but I was on the Isle of May until the following day (my birthday), and as luck would have it, due to quirk of circumstances, I had not one, not two, but three proposals for potential work to prepare that weekend (having committed to doing so in at least one of the three instances, the most significant).

And anyway, something like an American Redstart surely wasn’t going to stay around was it?

That night at the Low Light, after Julian Osborne had prepared and provided a fantastic beef stroganoff (complete with a couple of bottles of a good red wine), John Swallow produced a coffee and walnut birthday cake for me which had been baked and decorated, etc., by his wife, Margaret, and then carefully transported all the way from Berkshire to the Isle of May. Then, the following day, when Ken Shaw, John Swallow and I went down to Kirkhaven with our bags and to help moor the May Princess, the returning David Steel (plus Bex Outram and Sacha Riley-Smith) who had been to mainland Fife for a wedding were insistent that I went onboard for some reason. This I did, taking with me my carrier bag containing the remaining part of my birthday cake for the SNH Reserve Managers. Once on board however, I was presented with another birthday cake by them!

So, I had part of my birthday on the Isle of May, and very enjoyable it was. Once back in Anstruther I indulged myself further by having some of the paella Amanda had prepared. Having done so, I then travelled home to Edinburgh, for what was a relatively quiet last few hours of my birthday. Perhaps these activities distracted from the ongoing presence of the American Redstart... .

Certainly over the weekend this was perhaps also the case, as I concentrated on watching the Burnley game, and preparing fee proposals for a Phase 1 Habitat Survey, for a report on the Hen Harrier roost at Hunt Law and, in particular, for preparing a CEMP and providing an ECoW for the second golf course at Castle Stuart.

At times I even secretly hoped that the bird would leave to take away the problem. However, although activities certainly occupied me until the Monday, as the bird was still there, my mind increasingly turned to ‘How?’ and ‘When?’.... .

...... rather abruptly so, when, at 08:40 on the Monday morning John Nadin ‘phoned me asking me whether I was going for it, indicating that he would want to come and suggesting if I wanted to go today I needed to go very soon.....! I had various commitments during the week to work around, including a dental appointment that afternoon, but a plan slowly began to formalise.

John had also indicated that he had ‘phoned Calum Scott about his plans.... . As such, I messaged Calum at 09:14 and suggested that if the bird was still around the following day (Tuesday the 12th September) I would be going for it. When Calum returned my call, he suggested he too had been prevented from going earlier by various constraints, but suggested he would be interested in going with me... .

This scheme of things had the huge advantage of Calum’s friendship with Bruce Taylor, the finder of this and multiple other major rarities on Barra.... .

Calum also suggested he would get back to me once he had spoken to Bruce. When he did, the bad news was that we wouldn’t be able to stay with Bruce and Kathy (as we had done when we twitched the American Herring Gull) as they were having some renovations done, but the good news was that Bruce had agreed to go to the site early the following morning so that we would have positive news (or not) before setting off. Calum also advised that another Barra regular, Mark Oksien, was already on Barra and amused by telling me that John Nadin had obviously departed for Barra soon after he spoken to me and was bombarding Calum with inane questions..... . Nadinism’s certainly characterised the next 24 hours or so...... .

At 07:23 the following morning I got a message from Calum saying the American Redstart was indeed still there, and that he would be with me by 09:00.

We departed for Oban for the 13:30 ferry to Barra soon after 09:00. The drive to Oban was largely uneventful, and we had plenty of time to park up, sort out our bags, walk to the ferry terminal, get our tickets and boarding passes and even for me to get a prawn sandwich at the nearby seafood stall. I couldn’t wait to consume this as we walked towards a cash-point in the centre of Oban, and as a result was clobbered around the back of my head as an adult Herring Gull swooped in and nicked part of my sandwich!

After this excitement, the crossing from Oban to Castlebay was plain sailing; a cast of White-tailed Eagle high over the Sound of Mull and Leach’s Petrel, Storm Petrel, Manx Shearwater and Great Skua in The Minch helped pass the journey.

As did some of the other ‘birders’ on board, as they struggled to identify close Kittiwakes, etc., (seriously!).

Having sailed at 13:30, we were scheduled to arrive in Castlebay at 18:15. Although, relatively speaking, I was reasonably confident we would score, the crossing dragged somewhat as we knew we would have limited time on arrival to get to Eoligarry and get the bird before the light failed. Indeed, as we approached Barra the light did deteriorate for a while as large shower clouds moved through, but as we got closer to Castlebay these cleared. Better, as we docked, we could see Bruce Taylor waiting for us in Castlebay.

Maybe some of the other birders (John Bell for instance) were also foot passengers, but it appeared that most were car drivers or passengers. So we were very pleased that we were able to disembark quickly (first!) and rendezvoused with both Bruce and Kathy, before jumping in their car and being quickly driven the ‘long way around’ northwards towards Eoligarry, importantly, ahead of the ferry traffic. This route was a good idea to, as it avoided most of the traffic in and around Castlebay. We were on site quickly – by 18:45, and rendezvoused with Mark Oksien. We parked up, and made our way through the gap between a gatepost and the wall of the walled garden within which the bird had been for the past few days. From here we walked around to the back of the walled garden to a point from where we were able to view into the garden area and more specifically view the stunted sycamores within, as is evidenced in the photograph included here courtesy of Bruce Taylor.

There was, in effect, one sycamore immediately in front of us to our right, and then two more to our left along the perpendicular wall, one relatively close and another one further away in the midway along this same wall.

Bruce obviously knew these trees and the birds’ movements amongst them very well. Within seconds of us arriving he was on it, and almost as quickly, got us on it. It was actively feeding in the lower horizontal branches of the furthest away of the two sycamores along the perpendicular wall.

We were able to enjoy reasonable, if intermittent, views of it as flitted about in this tree before the rabble arrived, several vital minutes after we had. Needless to say, it disappeared as soon they appeared, and given the relatively low standard of birding ability involved amongst these ‘latecomers’ it wasn’t readily relocated, certainly not by some of their number.

It did though give very inadequate views in the sycamore furthest away, though these were very intermittent and it was partly obscured and frequently / invariably very difficult to get onto (prompting some challenged birder to moan he could only ‘see sparrows’ – look harder mate, a lot harder, you’ve come a long way!).

It then disappeared altogether for a while, before it was Bruce again who found it for the assembled 12 or 15 or so, in the nearest of the two sycamores to our left along the perpendicular wall. Here it briefly gave its’ best views as it worked its’ way through the upper branches of this tree, causing certainly me to comment on how stupendous it was.

Calum and I realised that as the light was fading and we were surrounded by ‘birders’ of challenged abilities we probably weren’t going to get any better views. So, as the light failed and the ****wits annoyed, we cut our losses and decided to leave the scene.

And anyway, we were now all the more determined to celebrate with a couple of beers and a good meal.... . Which we did; we said goodbye (and thanks!) to Bruce and Kathy and then clambered into Mark’s mobile ringing hut to be driven to the Heathbank Hotel to do so. Although we were consigned to a back room we dined very well, entertained by the delightful new owner and by further Nadinism’s (who else would ask for £40 cash back when paying his bill, and then leave without it?).

Afterwards, Mark was again good enough to take us to the Barra Holidays @Croft 183 bunkhouse (and, given our complete failure to sort out a taxi to take us to the ferry early the following morning) to take us to the ferry the next day.

The return crossing was much the same as the Oban to Barra one, better views of White-tailed Eagles on islands in the Sound of Mull and especially so on the northern tip of Kerrara just outside Oban Harbour, and Leach’s Petrel, Storm Petrel, Manx Shearwater, Arctic Skua and Great Skua in The Minch again helped pass the journey.

We were back in Oban just about 24 hours after we had arrived there the previous day; a massively successful lightning raid!! A stunning bird, a stonker, and a blocker no more; it was the sixth for Britain, and the first since the mid-1980s.

It was ‘typical’, in terms of size and shape to most North American warblers, perhaps a tad bigger and stockier than a Chiffchaff. Very early on Calum remarked on its’ Red-breasted Flycatcher-like appearance, not just due to its tail pattern, but also its overall ‘jizz’ and active feeding behaviour.

This is perhaps evident in John Nadin’s photograph below. The strong, wide-based bill and the large-ish dark eye (with pale eye-ring) certainly added to this. The head was grey and unmarked, and the rest of the upperparts were a largely unmarked greenish grey. The under-parts were pale, un-streaked and clean-looking with warm yellowy patches on the sides of the breast. The tail was the most striking feature though, with a large, almost luminous, yellow panel on either side of its base.

Wow!! A fantastic belated birthday present / start to autumn 2017.

American Redstart, Eoligarry, Barra, September 2017 (photograph credited John Nadin)

The walled garden at Eoligarry, Barra, September 2017 (photograph credited Bruce Taylor)

 

 

Two-barred Greenish Warbler – Budle Point, near Bamburgh, Northumberland, 30^th September 2020

So, as may have been mentioned elsewhere, due to the COVID-19 pandemic, 2020 was something of a write-off in terms of going to places seeking rare birds, whether finding our own or seeing someone else’s.

If only we had seen it coming, eh? ………. but 2020 vision isn’t always possible, not in the birding world anyway….. .

Certainly, autumn 2020 was a complete write off in terms of such ventures / adventures. Or almost, but not quite.

Three of us (as opposed to the usual crew of six) made it to the Isle of May between the 29th August and the 5th September, but the efforts of Ken Shaw, David Clugston and I, plus those of David Steel, et al., failed to produce too much.

Then, although I had rescued something from the wreckage of our long planned Unst trip (which would have been between around the 12th and the 30th September) which we had eventually had to cancel due to gentle pressure from Brydon Thomason (et al.?) suggesting we should do the right thing and not go to Unst, my reinvented trip (you’ve guessed it…..) also failed to produce too much.

Early on during the initial planning of Unst 2020 my co-organiser, Chris Pendlebury, had dropped out as he couldn’t get the two weeks involved off. He had, instead, planned a weekend on mainland Shetland, and then this, in turn, developed. Andy Carroll booked an Airbnb in Lerwick for a week between the 19th and the 25th September he and Chris intended to share. However, Andy struggled getting clearance for each element of an intended Shetland / Isle of May / Scilly triple header, and so, having negotiated with me, he dropped out, and I dropped in.

I saw this as some consolation for the cancelled Unst trip. I had even managed to change my long-booked flights to and from Shetland for a very reasonable £45.

All this provided some sort of salvation for the cancellation of the always ill-fated Unst trip. Even when the Lerwick Airbnb which Andy had booked suddenly cancelled with no explanation Chris (and I) rapidly arranged for an alternative Airbnb in Scalloway. There was even some optimism about our week; basing ourselves in Scalloway seemed just a little bit innovative rather than ‘safe’ (i.e., Lerwick or south Mainland). There was certainly the usual sense of anticipation…. .

However, unfortunately for us, Shetland was something of a bird free hell throughout our stay. We adopted a daily pattern of working the varied areas of good cover in Scalloway in the earlier part of the morning before checking the gardens at Asta House (and Asta Loch (and Tingwall Loch)). Then, we ventured further afield and checked sites on Tondra, East Burra and West Burra and / or South Mainland later on.

In doing so, we found a few Yellow-browed Warblers, but beyond that we were limited to one or two Pied Flycatchers, etc.. We also ‘twitched’ padders such as Surf Scoter, Red-backed Shrike and Lapland Bunting, but in wildlife terms a ‘showy’ Humpback Whale was the definite highlight. Not really what we envisaged. Being in Shetland, exploring new places, doing our own thing and spending time with just Chris (excellent company as ever) as opposed to a crew of six or so as ‘normal’ were all good, but….. .

All very depressing; as ever, a tale of what might have been. My mood wasn’t helped by the juxtaposition of this trip and the incredible occurrence of the Yellow-bellied Flycatcher on Tiree (obviously a first for the Western Palaearctic) between the 14th (although actually only practically available from the 15th) and the 23rd September. By the time I had thought about it, it was too late; there was too little time to get to Tiree and back before my flight to Sumburgh on the 19th and by the time I was back in Edinburgh, inevitably, it had gone…… .

To make things worse, this ill-luck continued when, the very day we would have been leaving Unst to drive to south after our two weeks in Noosthamar came to an end, Dougie Preston found his Tennessee Warbler on Yell, the very first island we would be travelling through on our way south (or alternatively, this happened just four days after Chris and I had actually left mainland Shetland………). And, to make things even worse, an extremely showy Olive-backed Pipit had been found in the gardens of Asta House on the 27th September that we had assiduously checked every day between the 19th and 25th September…… .

As such, when what had initially been as a Yellow-browed Warbler on the 28th and part of the 29th September and a Greenish Warbler on part of the 29th September suddenly transmogrified into a Two-barred Greenish Warbler when it was suddenly Mega’ed at 17.26 that day I was interested, very interested….. .

I had no work constraints, or any constraints involving ‘trades’ at my new place 62 High Street, South Queensferry, or viewings at the old place… .

I was unconstrained!

Steely inadvertently video-called me on WhatsApp at some time before 20.00 on the evening of the 29th September (having sent me a WhatsApp message saying, “If only you were on Shetland…..”).

But by now I’d moved on, and had another mission. I video-called him back, and we discussed my options, and later Steely, being from the north-east of England, was able to provide access details and map taken from the Northumberland WhatsApp group. In addition, he was very helpfully able to provide confirmation that the bird had been seen going to roost……….. .

Steely also offered to give me any news from the WhatsApp group in the morning.

This proved unnecessary, as at 08.01 there was positive news on RBA.

As such, I was able to leave Queensferry at c.08.50, and after an excellent hassle-free drive, I arrived at Budle at c.10.30.

Before departing, to salve my conscience, I had messaged John Nadin at 08.19 to enquire whether he was interested. Unfortunately for John, it was his wife Norma’s birthday, so it was a no-go for him….. .

En-route John provided some not very positive news from site at c.09.00 via Andy Stirrat, who had been there since first light, suggesting that it had not seen it and that it was blowing a gale and was just starting to rain…… .

Other information I gleaned en-route and on arriving at Budle and parking up was that seemingly it had only seen once by one person; it was in the same area but had only called once and briefly showed in hawthorn and then flew into sycamores with a Chiffchaff….. .

Not the most promising of scenarios then.

My arrival was a tad fraught. Arriving involved negotiating some roadworks before parking in what was seemingly the right place (judging by the other cars parked alongside the road…). In addition, unhelpfully, I was bursting whilst the car was running VERY low on fuel.

Having briefly chatted to a returning birder (who didn’t do anything for my JSN-induced pessimism) I assembled my gear and set off from the coast road towards the site referred to as Budle Point… .

Although Steely had provided directions and an annotated O.S. map extract from the Northumberland WhatsApp site, it wasn’t immediately obvious how to get to where the bird was, or, at least, to where the pin had been dropped on the annotated map.

I opted to bear right at the first intersection on the track that led towards the coast from the road. This took me towards a complex of buildings at Newtown. As there was no sign of anyone, birders or residents (or visiting guests), I walked on towards what proved to be a group of self-containing accommodation along what proved to be a right-of-way. Beyond these buildings and a gate on the right-of-way, it become more obvious where I should be going; the next intersection offered a right-hand turn option which took me towards the Stablewood Cottages Caravan Site, where, finally (alright, just minutes later) birders were evident.

The caravan site occupied a small valley and the area beyond, adjacent to the south-east shores of Budle Bay. At the head of the valley was a very small copse of sycamore and ash. Some ten or so small trees were involved, some of which were adjacent to the uppermost the caravans on the north-east side of the caravan site access road through the valley. Beyond, to the east, was the Bamburgh Castle Golf Course. North-west of the copse of trees, and between the caravan site and the golf course, was an area of bracken scrub with isolated hawthorn bushes, with denser scrub and bushes further down the same valley side.

Some 40(?) or so birders were evident, mainly within the caravan site and or adjacent to the copse of sycamore and ash trees at the head of the valley, or alongside the valley on the very edge of the golf course.

It certainly wasn’t obviously where I should place myself. The sycamore and ash copse was windswept, and the caravan site itself was (strictly) off-limits. The gusty wind and persistent light rain showers didn’t help.

Nor did the bizarre sight of Lee Evans lying flat on his back underneath the sycamores saying that it was up in the trees above him where he could hear it calling but couldn’t see it….. .

I decided that any sensible phyllos wouldn’t be in the windswept copse and would be in the denser more sheltered cover further down the valley, and so I made my way there. This proved to no avail, so I made my way back (with some difficulty due to my failing balance). I can’t remember whether I made my way all the way back to the top end of the caravan site and back or not but certainly within an hour or so of me arriving on site there was a flurry of activity when the bird briefly showed in the largest hawthorn alongside the golf course.

Unfortunately, although it did show in said hawthorn, a combination of me being not particularly well-placed and the inability of those who were on it to give coherent directions to enable others to get on it thwarted me. LGRE (and others) gave directions that included, ‘It’s near the obvious lichen…..’, etc., etc..

As a result, although I had brief naked eye views as it flitted on the lower edges of the bush, I failed to get any proper views in my binoculars. Frustratingly, my ‘best’ views were of a striking bright olive- green phyllos type warbler flying away from me as it flew from the hawthorn back to the sycamores. It was some time before 12.30.

I had deliberately tried to avoid the horrendous racist that is LGRE, but bizarrely he came to me and said, “You’re Brian aren’t you? You used to come to the Scillies years ago…”. Fame at last…. .

There then followed a lllllooooonnnnnggggg interlude before the next showing. Very little happened during the intervening time. It just didn’t ‘feel’ very promising. The bird was hugely elusive and seemingly was ‘favouring’ the windswept trees of the copse where it could apparently be occasionally heard but never seen. There wasn’t a huge amount of cover – just ten or so smallish sycamores and ashes – but the bird became invisible when in them. It was all very strange; sure, it was windy and rainy, but lots of eyes were looking.

A long period with no sign ensued…….. .

Thankfully, reacquainting myself with both Andy Close and Euan McLachlan certainly helped, although my ‘i.d.’ was shocking, and initially I failed to recognise both them. I did though recognise the unmistakable Jumbo from Fair Isle and was amused by his discussions with his mate about whether to abandon this mission and continue on to Shetland…. . Yep, I’m only playing at it….. .

The gathered throng was certainly a mixed bunch – local birders coming back for more, travelling twitchers hoping for a tick, some of whom, I think, were ‘born again’ birders, recently retired ‘I know, I’ll take up birding’ birders, ‘all the gear and no idea’. Perhaps harsh, but certainly a feature of 21st century birding. Anyway, as ever, the birders present were of varying abilities. Andy Close stood out in this context, constantly looking, constantly trying something different; certainly not just standing around aimlessly. At one stage he gestured to me from the lower edge of the copse within the caravan site as I was standing adjacent to it on the tee of one of the holes on the golf course. He was suggesting he could hear it nearby, having clearly recognised me, but I failed to recognise him. Maybe it was the cool shades and the sharp civvy clothes that threw me; I didn’t remember him being dressed this way on Fair Isle. Later we coincided and he prompted my dim memory and we chatted and birded together. It was Andy who briefly located the bird at least once; bizarrely on one occasion it was seen in the bare branches very close to the top of the windswept sycamores…. .

Similarly, Euan McLachlan who again I had noticed as being a proactive birding but failed to recognise until he (re-)introduced himself to me as the person who had attended my talk on the taiga bean geese and who I had then pointed in the direction of getting work with Andy Carroll.

Much more straightforward was my recognition of Darren Woodhead who I spotted arriving along the coastal path alongside the golf course from the Stag Rocks / Bamburgh direction. I made my way from the caravan site towards him, and having intercepted him and quickly appraised him of the situation, we opted to sit on a bank on the edge of the golf course overlooking the valley. We chatted at some length watching what was going on as we did all the time.

The rain had stopped some while earlier, but it was still windy, perhaps more so, and as such, it was difficult to believe that the bird was still in the copse as seemingly small and ‘easily’ viewed as it was. Chatting to Darren (who I was able to thank for being so generous with his talent when Tessa and Ellen had arranged to get my birthday present from him) certainly helped make the long vigil better, but there was a distinct feeling by now that it wasn’t going to be…. .

I mentally wrestled with the dilemma of whether my earlier views had been good enough, but I knew they hadn’t, so I began reconciling myself to leaving the scene of a twitch without seeing the bird well enough to count.

Finally, though, there was a flurry of action down in the caravan site near the copse, and, in summary, the bird suddenly became relatively cooperative whilst moving from the sycamores to the largest hawthorn and back on a couple or more occasions. In doing so, I was finally able to get myself in the right place at the right time.

I’m not suggesting for one minute that the bird gave itself up; it was still elusive and flighty, being often either deep in cover in the hawthorn or suddenly moving back into the sycamores. But crucially, twice when it was in the hawthorn, I just about managed to keep on it as it rapidly moved through the interior of the bush and thankfully very briefly occasionally appeared ‘in the open’ (at least partially!) on the outer margins.

On the last such occasion the photographer Mike Barth was next to me and one or two others as I had my best views and he was able to get his best shots… . As such, Darren and I asked him for his contact details and Mike was then good enough to send me the accompanying superb image which captures how I saw it when eventually I saw it well (enough).

My views were very brief, admittedly, but I was finally able to see the stonking pale supercilium, and, eventually the striking pale wing-bar(s). Otherwise, it was a typical phyllos with mainly off-white underparts, and dull green upperparts. It had a slightly darker green eye-stripe. I was only vaguely aware of the colour of the legs and bill (both of which were broadly Willow Warbler-like).

Most of all though, my abiding impression was how well the finders had done pinning down this elusive bird sufficiently well for it to be specifically identified. I could now well understand why the bird had had a difficult gestation from Yellow-browed Warbler to Greenish Warbler to Two-barred Greenish Warbler. Certainly, it had close similarities to both (and indeed, as discussed with Darren, to Arctic Warbler, and, dare I say, Eastern Crowned Warbler). It was smaller than the latter pair, bigger than Yellow-browed Warbler and (just) bigger than Greenish Warbler. But this was marginal, in all instances. Interestingly, Darren and I thought there were similarities in terms of structure and general appearance with Arctic Warbler; I thought it was surprisingly stocky looking.

In relation to Yellow-browed Warbler it lacked the pale tips to the tertials, and the wing was overall plainer, whilst in relation to both Greenish Warbler and Arctic Warbler the shape and size of the wing-bars and eye-stripe / supercilium were subtly different, but perhaps not on my views, and perhaps only in regard of careful analysis of photographic images.

Undoubtedly this fantastic Graphic by Ross Ahmed illustrates what I'm trying to say a lot more eloquently than me!

However, it became very obvious that the distinctive House Sparrow / Pied Wagtail like fast, ‘pitchew-wee’ was crucial to the identification of this bird; certainly, I heard this more frequently than I saw the bird!

Having finally had very brief, but more than adequate views, I opted to leave at c.15.30. Again, despite reaching the Edinburgh by-pass in what in ‘normal’ times was rush hour the journey was hassle free and I arrived home at c.17.45.

Five hours for some very brief views, but now I am getting closer to 500 I cannot expect new birds to be easy. At least it was less than two hours away, and as such, despite ongoing COVID-19 and increasing environmental concerns, easy to justify on this basis. In terms of base statistics Two-barred Greenish Warbler was my 497th species in the UK / British Isles, and this particular individual was seemingly the eighth for the UK….. .

Two-barred Greenish Warbler at Budle Point, Northumberland, September 2020 (photograph credited to Mike Barth).

 

 Tibetan Sand Plover – Rimac, Lincolnshire, 14^th May 2002

On the night of the 11th May 2002, a Saturday, my ex- Gillian and I were out with our friends Graham Clark and Christine Reid in Edinburgh, taking advantage on the opportunity to do so as my Mum was visiting and therefore baby-sitting. Early on, on what proved to be a very long night of excessive eating, drinking and partying, news of Greater Sand Plover became news of a Lesser Sand Plover* on the MegaAlert..... .

(* Clearly, sand plovers were reinvented since this account was written way back when, and what was Lesser Sand Plover became Siberian Sand Plover and Tibetan Sand Plover - the bird in question here - in 2023).

There was no immediate response from either Graham or I as we couldn’t do anything about it there and then, and we were having a good time. And soon afterwards we were too pissed, and as a result not capable of even thinking about the following day, Sunday the 12th May. That day I couldn’t even get my act together to go to Aberlady Bay for Kentish Plover, a Scottish tick, let alone Rimac, in far-away Lincolnshire for Lesser Sand Plover.

So, on Monday the 13th May, as usual, I was back to work, flying down from Edinburgh to London Heathrow, on this occasion armed with binoculars.

On arrival at Bechtel I 'phoned Mike Thompson to investigate any remote possibility of going with him, but he explained that he had pre-empted the transformation of the bird from a Greater to a Lesser on the Saturday when he primed Pete Ewer about the Greater Sand Plover, and as such had twitched it successfully on Sunday with Pete and Angela.

The pressure was on, but my head still not clear enough to make any definitive plans, now due to a lack of sleep caused by a further curtailed night of sleep, this time caused by the girls and my early flight, rather than drink.

I did though place an e-mail request for a lift on the Surfbirds website and then with Rare Bird Alert. Later, at c.13.00 I received a message relating to my lift required on the pager. However, unfortunately the only response was from Graham telling me that he was now intending to travel from Edinburgh to Lincolnshire on Monday night on his way to Norfolk and then Hertfordshire before his next trip. Neither of us could think of a way of combining his trip south to Lincolnshire with mine north. I asked him to give me a report from the scene though.

I returned to my flat in St. Albans that evening to find a message on the answerphone from Mike offering use of his spare birding equipment. He urged me to put another request for a lift on the pager that night, but I still hadn't defined a strategy beyond taking my binoculars with me to work the following morning.

I had though researched train times and so I resolved that once I had news on the Tuesday morning, I would negotiate a ‘day pass’ and make my way to Cleethorpes by train, if nothing else offered itself.

As I left the flat that morning at 06:30 my mobile went off and I answered to find that it was my ‘reporter on the spot’ telling me he too had just seen it. The pressure was really on now as Graham had caught up with it, as well as Mike and Pete!

I continued on my way to work, contemplating opting out and going straight to Kings Cross and getting the first train to Cleethorpes. Almost, but not quite.... .

Still in a quandary, I reached work and resolved to confront the issue, even if it involved taking a day off. I broached the issue with Ian ?????? (the senior engineer with responsibility for the environmental cohort) first who basically said ‘go for it’ and then with Clifton Schindel (my direct line-manager, a very young American ‘boy’ environmental engineer with whom I often clashed) second. Given the lack of workload at the time, he too was reasonably positive, surprisingly so.

I put out another lift request on the pager, this time after 'phoning Andrew Raines at Rare Bird Alert, and whilst I waited for the resultant calls, investigated train times again.

However, then it dawned on me that Bechtel had a travel section on the ground floor and perhaps, given the logistics of getting a train / taxi and taxi train and the problematic lack of lifts offered, hiring a car was the way to go.

I quickly made my way there and explained my predicament to the main person in the office. He assigned one of his staff, Jo, to the case and although she had just arrived at work, we very quickly agreed that my best option would be to hire a small car from Europcar in Brentford on Bechtel rates, with the option of returning it to Luton Airport. Given the £55 train fare, the charges seemed reasonable and so I committed myself, and Jo confirmed the arrangements with Europcar.

After a quick change of clothes into what passed for birding gear amongst the meagre selection of non-office clothes I retained in my flat in St. Albans, I bade my colleagues at Bechtel goodbye. At c.09:10 I hailed a taxi to take me from Hammersmith Broadway to Gillette Corner on Great West Road, the A4 through Brentford. Lovely! The taxi driver and I found the Europcar offices with reasonable ease, and some 40 minutes before the arranged time of 10:00 I arrived at the Europcar offices to collect my Renault Clio.

This all went reasonably well, with the result that well before 10:00 I was on my way to Lincolnshire from West London.

The only drawback was that Europcar were unable to provide any sort of road map and so I navigated all the way there, using my geographers / birders intuition and a tiny road map in my diary.

I made good time and arrived some 3.5(?) hours after leaving West London. Unfortunately, as I made my way off the Lincolnshire Wolds towards the coast the pager announced that the Lesser Sand Plover had been lost.

This increased my velocity to new levels, despite me noticing the increased number of speed cameras abounding in rural Eastern England since I last drove there.

I arrived at the Rimac carpark, with its memories of a similar dash to see Alpine Accentor, and in less time than usual assembled my gear, as I had none. What I did have consisted of my bins, mobile ‘phone, pager and a pen and paper. Otherwise, I was totally ill-equipped, particularly given the imminent yomp across coastal Lincolnshire’s salt-marshes and mudflats.

As I walked out from the car-park towards the mudflats I asked an elderly couple coming the other way whether ‘it’ had been relocated. The answer was in the negative, and he explained that birders were fanning out across the flats looking for it.

As I got further out, I could see what he meant, because away in the distance to the south I could see 20 – 30 birders spread across the beach like tiny matchstick figures.

I made my way towards them, not particularly quickly, but as I did so it became apparent that the scattered wanderings were slowly beginning to coalesce at one point. That was enough for me, and so the pace of my walking increased. After 20 – 25 minutes I was with the crowd and able to pick the target out, just, with my binoculars. The assembled gallery was now c.30 strong and ranged in a loose curve around the wader flock at c.50 – 60 m range.

Considerations of light and wind direction came into it, but despite this I had plumped for a position centrally within the gallery, looking south and with a very strong cross-wind.

However, these were relatively minor considerations given that by chance I had positioned myself to a birder who was very generous with his ‘scope. I had been looking at the bird with my binoculars, finding it relatively easy to pick out, owing to its stance and relatively pale plumage, when he tapped me on my arm, and invited me to use his ‘scope.

He had obviously realised my predicament and as such exercised his Yorkshire generosity by offering me the frequent use of his ‘scope. And what a ‘scope it was! It was Kowa TSN fluorite ‘scope, which gave stunning clarity despite the difficult viewing conditions. It was so windy that soon after this arrangement commenced two adjacent ‘scopes and tripods blew over and fell into the estuarine sediments!

The bird was reasonably close, but due to the proximity of the ranged birders and the windy conditions, the accompanying Ringed Plovers and Dunlins were somewhat flighty. I was relatively easily able to follow the sand plovers’ movements with my bins, but embarrassingly it was sometimes a struggle identifying its’ companion species in terms of giving directions once the bird had moved. A prominent ‘breast-on’ Ringed Plover thus became a Lapwing as all the waders looked dark in the light conditions and size / scale was not immediately apparent.

Anyway, my directions to the sand plover in terms of it being ‘next to the Lapwing’ caused mutterings from to young lads next to me. Shortly afterwards, when I explained to my ‘scope companion that I was working on a Project in Azerbaijan, Georgia and Turkey, and as yet hadn’t seen the Caspian, let alone birds in that region such as Lesser Sand Plover, the murmurings started again, I assume because they made the assumption I was getting confused with Caspian Plover. The old birding aggression welled up, but fortunately I quelled it and concentrated on the bird.

The views through the ‘borrowed’ ‘scope got better and better, and as the bird moved around us, so the light got better and the sand plover got closer. By now we were working in tandem, my companion would use his ‘scope for a few minutes whilst I used my bins and attempted to sketch the bird, and then I would have a look at it through his ‘scope for a minute or so. After some 15 – 20 minutes of this, someone nearby called the ‘scope owner by name, and after a delayed reaction caused by lack of memory power and the photo-reactive glasses he was wearing I realised I knew him. It was Kris from Yorkshire who I had last met when I gave him a lift on North Uist when Graham and I had twitched the Long-tailed Shrike! He was mightily impressed that we should met up again like this and so the craich was even better, culminating in me being given a sausage butty shortly before they left! We exchanged contact details and then said our goodbyes and they departed, apparently because my ‘scope sharing mate wanted to go back to Potteric Carr where he was warden to gloat to one of his colleagues about seeing the Lesser Sand Plover!

Anyway, back to the bird and birding.

I readjusted my position, and once again fortuitously struck lucky by inadvertently standing next to another birder willing to share his very good ‘scope with me. This time he was from my side of the Pennines, but equally keen to share the experience. He had his tripod set as low as possible and despite having to kneel down in the silty-sands of the beach to view, this and the fact that the bird was closer than ever meant that the views were very good.

More birders had drifted away by now, and perhaps for this reason the waders (and the sand plover in particular) were as close as they had been throughout my stay. I took full advantage of another generous Northern birder and used his ‘scope to get my best views. During this time the bird moved to within 20 m of the nearest small group of birders / photographers / digiscopers.

I decided that that was the place to be and moved from my position to theirs, helped by the fact that an absolutely massive bloke was doing the same and shielded me totally from view. Once there, I obviously got the best binocular views I had.

As a rain shower appeared to be heading our way, fast, I decided to quit whilst I was ahead, and so walked back to the Rimac car-park a very happy birder. I was thrilled to have re-discovered ‘spontaneous’ twitching and so enjoyed the walk through interesting coastal habitats all the more recounting the day’s events as I went.

The bird was obviously very reminiscent of the two previous Greater Sand Plovers I had seen, certainly in terms of structure, shape and plumage. However, it also had certain, subtle but definite characteristics which made it stand out as a ‘Lesser’.

Firstly, my binocular views. The bird was obviously bigger and bulkier than the accompanying Ringed Plovers and could be easily picked out by a combination of this appearance and its paler plumage. Obviously, my binocular views were best for picking out jizz-related characteristics. Besides the size and structure, I noted that the bird appeared front-heavy, and as a consequence appeared to, ‘totter forwards a few paces before stopping and pecking at the sand’. This pattern of movement was constant, apart from when it occasionally flew a few tens of metres. It was apparent that there was some truth in the adage about three or four paces compared to the Greater Sand Plovers eight or nine or so. In flight it again was an obvious plover, with a broadish white wing-bar showing in flight as it wheeled around from one place to the next. Also apparent with binoculars was the predominance of white plumage at the stubby looking rear-end of what was a dumpy looking bird. The legs were long and apparently black, and even at this range the bill looked like a far more delicate affair than that of the preceding Greater Sand Plovers. With such views it was difficult to make out any of the subtleties of its plumage, beyond the white underparts, separated by an orangey breast band and a darker face mask around the eye and apparently between the eye and bill. The upperparts were a light grey-brown.

With the borrowed ‘scopes (and particularly the second one when the bird was closer) at least some of the subtleties of the plumage and the Lesser v. Greater Sand Plover i.d. criteria could be discerned. The orange breast band was clearly defined at its interface with the white throat patch but merged into the white belly. Equally, the throat patch had a clearly defined edge where it reached the facial pattern. This comprised an ‘eye-shadow’ effect mask, an off white supercilium and an otherwise light dull grey-brown cheek patch and cap. There was some darker feathering around and, in particular, in front of the eye but the ‘mask’ was a deceptively variable feature. The upperparts were all grey brown and relatively uniform, although there was an apparent darker line caused by the structure of the folded wing, approximating to the edge of the scapulars and inner wing coverts. The upperparts feathers appeared old and evenly worn. The folded flight feathers appeared slightly darker, in particular, the leading edge of the visible primaries. Similarly, the darker tip to the tail was often visible against the pure white undertail coverts / outer tail feathers. The legs, bill and eye were all black. The legs were long-looking in comparison to Ringed Plover, and the upper tarsus was apparent, as was a bulge at the leg-joint. However, the birds front-heavy pot-bellied appearance made it appear to have not particularly long legs. The bill was Ringed Plover like, rather than Grey Plover like as with Greater Sand Plover.

In flight the wing-bar was obvious, and was broad and parallel on the inner wing, whilst it tapered to a point on the outer wing. As such, it was far more obvious on the inner wing. No indication of feet overlapping the tail could be discerned from the flight views obtained. The tail pattern was not recorded.

Overall, it was a far more ‘delicate’ bird than the more robust looking Greater Sand Plovers I have seen. It was reminiscent of one of the Nearctic plover species (Piping Plover?) in terms of size, structure and appearance. A cracking bird!  

Lesser Sand Plover, Rimac, Lincolnshire, May 2002 (all photographs credited to Graham Catley).