White-winged Scoter – off Murcar Links Golf Course, Blackdog, Aberdeenshire, 30^th June 2016

White-winged Scoter, off Murcar, Aberdeenshire, June 2016, attempting to illustrate the subtleties of i.d., especially when asleep on a lumpy sea!

Having bided my time (given it was found on Saturday the 25th June 2016) I banged in the 'deglandi' (er, that is, saw the (American) White-winged Scoter.....) the following Thursday.

I had bided my time as I had various commitments at the weekend and earlier in the week, but also as I was conveniently working on the Moray Reinforcement Pipeline Project in Aberdeenshire and was travelling there on Wednesday the 29th June, so it had seemed best to wait.

So, as it would have been rude not to, as was commented whilst I was there, I went after work on Thursday the 30th June.

I was increasingly hacked off at work, so I gradually hatched my plan, and left at around about 16:00 hours.

I travelled cross-country, avoiding the rush-hour A96 and A90 / Aberdeen by-pass and reasonably successfully navigating my way to the A90 north of Aberdeen. I struggled to decide whether I needed to take the A90 further north or south towards Aberdeen. Eventually I opted for the latter, and then misguidedly turned off into Blackdog. Here I consulted my mobile and realised I needed to continue further towards Aberdeen to find the Murcar Links Golf Course road. This I successfully did, and once there I parked up and assembled my gear and marched off north along the track through the Murcar golf course, as the RBA App suggested.

All a bit too literally though. I continued north, rather than diverted east as I realised I should have done on the way back. Eventually this track allowed me just to cross (carefully and respectably) one hole of the golf course to the sand-dunes, from where I had a good view out over a further sand-dune ridge, and the nearby North Sea. And lots of distant scoter, etc..

The trouble was, between the sand-dunes I was on, and the next ridge of sand-dunes was an intervening valley with a burn and dense reed-bed to traverse.

I continued north along the dunes, and then clambered down and along the steep eroding face of these dunes to the burn which I eventually crossed close to the point at which it reached the beach. Then I returned south across the beach and then onto and along the seaward sand-dune ridge. Once opposite the huge rafts of scoter I selected a suitable viewing point and erected my tripod and mounted my telescope, and scanned and scanned and scanned.

Initially this produced good views of huge numbers of Common Scoter, plus a range of other ducks, etc.. Eventually, as I got my eye in, and realised that the Velvet Scoter were mainly in small groups which tended to be further out. It was very hard work given the huge numbers of scoters Murcar in June / July involves and the range the flocks were at, and the sea state. And a jogger running along the beach helped not, as he flushed large numbers of birds, including many of the scoters........ .

I tried very hard but failed. I had seen no one (apart from golfers) nearby so as I contemplated what to do and opted to move further south along the sand-dunes and view from there (or leave!) I was somewhat surprised to find an update suggested the object of my quest was ‘still there’ at 18:00. Eh?

I was flummoxed. It was now c.19:00 and I had been there for at least an hour (and much more perhaps) and had seen no one.

I made my way south along the dune ridge and in doing so suddenly happened upon (to use a quaint expression) a couple, familiar from Fair Isle, who were grilling the flock from a point some few hundred metres south of where I had been.

What’s more, they had it, or at least, had had it.... .

But the fact that they had had it was fantastic news, which gave me renewed optimism.

Could he / we re-locate it? We gave it a good go, but struggled, and struggled really badly in my case. However, with commendable persistence he re-located it, and then managed to get me onto it. This was some achievement in both regards, and by me as well as him (though massive respect to him for his efforts!).

I slowly got my eye in on the bird in question, and once I had done it became somewhat easier to (lose and) re-locate the bird. Very often it was resting ‘with its head under its wing’ which made it all the harder to identify. Well, that is, until I realised that even when it was ‘at rest’ the exposed white wing patch was way more pronounced than it was on the few Velvet Scoters adopting the same pose.

So despite the birds’ un-cooperative behaviour (it was sleeping a lot of the time), etc., it was very rewarding eventually seeing the bird, and then, when the couple left, having it to myself and keeping on it, and then, finally, getting someone else who arrived later on it.

In addition to the highly distinctive wing flash when at rest, and despite the rolling sea and thronging mass of scoters, the views I obtained were good enough to see the pinky bill hues, the appropriately-shaped bill bump, the extensive white ‘lick’ back from the eye and nicely contrasting brown flanks, all of which enabled a useful (and reassuring) comparison with Velvet Scoter.

So ultimately, I was very happy, after a less than happy day at work.

And all the more so once I was back at my guest house in Huntly. Here I researched the status of White-winged Scoter. I belatedly realised that it now had full species status and that I had just had another tick!!!!

Subsequently, further audiences with White-winged Scoters in Shetland and Fife followed as birders got to grips with the i.d. of the split species (i.e., both White-winged and Stejneger’s).

White-winged Scoter, off Murcar, Aberdeenshire, June 2016 (photograph credited to Kris Gibb).

Lesser Grey Shrike – Great Wakering, Essex, 22^nd August 1989

What’s this???? Minshull twitches a Lesser and is successful? Yes thanks, although it would have been far better without the military intervention.

Sunday the 27th August 1989 saw me on another twitch from St. Albans with Mike Thompson and Pete Ewer. This involved us travelling out into the wilds of the Essex marshes beyond Southend-on-Sea and Great Wakering. Here a Lesser Grey Shrike had been for the past ten days. The only problem was that it was extremely distant, in a location bordering a military danger zone.
After winning a spot the dot competition dissatisfaction with the view lead to persistence beyond the call of duty.

We encircled the birds’ position and eventually it surrendered to one of the scouts. Despite the range good views were achieved, allowing the diagnostic features of the plumage to be ‘scoped, including the wrap around black mask, wide white secondary flash, pink flush(?) on the breast, etc..

Not the best of views of what was still evidently a stunning bird.

This was rectified in September 1994 when my ex- Gillian and I got very good views of one at Elie in Fife.

Two less than prize-winning images of my second Lesser Grey Shrike near Elie, Fife in September 1994.

 Oriental Pratincole – Gimingham, Norfolk, 22^nd May 1993

A well-watched bird, well-watched....... .

I had been determined to avoid a potential bad miss, so I had driven from South Queensferry to Leigh after finishing work on the Forties Crude Export Expansion Project in Dalmeny on the afternoon of Friday the 21st May 1993. I’d arranged a lift from Leigh to Gimingham in Norfolk with Paul Pugh, et al., for the next day. By this time the bird had been around for a week....... .

Having departed work in my little AMEC works van at 14:40, I made surprisingly good progress and arrived in Leigh at 18:40. Here I was informed by Janine that Paul wasn’t going.... .

Less than helpful. I could have driven for four or more hours south on the A1 instead, and I was just in my noisy little Ford Escort van. Annoyed more than somewhat, I continued on, and on, via Dad’s in Chesterfield and through the night to Cromer in Norfolk and a chicken kebab. Then I continued on to Gimingham, where, after looking for the venue in the dark, I opted to park in a lane near the hospital. It was now 00:20 on the very early morning of the 22nd May. Whether I slept much is not recalled, but four hours later I was up and soon afterwards I was at the scene, as evidenced by some 15 or so cars and 20 or 30 birders in a field.

The bird was already showing in the nearby potato field, but as I was looking into the light and looking much further away than the bird actually was, I struggled at first. It was standing on a ridge in the potato field, standing somewhat static in the dawn light, giving good views but it was not exactly dynamic, apart from a few sudden flurries of activity as it shuffled its plumage.

A move by some of the watching gallery of birders produced excellent views. Slowly more birders arrived and slowly the bird became more and more animate, and I obtained better and better views of a storming bird. As the bird made its most distant foray over the field directly opposite the ‘car-park’ the gallery surged. Thus, when it returned to the potato field, I was in pole position. At this point Mike Thompson arrived but he was too embarrassed to stand with me as this would have involved standing in front of the birders behind me.

It had taken me five hours to get decent views in flight. Mike arrived and saw it well on the ground for five minutes, and then it, playing its audience to the optimum, decided to fly up and over the gallery, to perform over the horse paddock. Fantastic. It was my preference to think of it being from the Dutch East Indies rather than being Dutch. A class act.

After enjoying the circus, I retreated for a well-earned breakfast.

So, after Collared Pratincole in Turkey, much better views of an obvious pratincole (by far the rarest, but my first).

In flight it had slow, deliberate wing-beats, like a tern display flight. It had coppery brown under-wing coverts, and a mid-brown upper-wing with darker primaries and secondaries. There was no pale trailing edge to the wing. It had a short black forked tail, and white rump and under-tail coverts and belly.

It had mid-brown upper-parts and lighter redder mid-brown under-parts. It also had a black face mask and surround to the buff-white throat part. The bill was black with a bright red base to the lower mandible. The legs were also black. The eye was black with a white lower eyelid.

I saw it again some weeks later when it had taken up residence near Burnham Norton, and I was visiting North Norfolk and staying with the Mostyn’s with my ex-, Gilly, Gary and Debbie Hitchen and Mike, and Susie Pearson.

Oriental Pratincole at Gimingham, Norfolk, May 1993(photograph credited to unknown).

Oriental Pratincole at Gimingham, Norfolk, May 1993(photograph credited to Rob Wilson).

Western Swamphen – Alkborough Flats Nature Reserve, near Alkborough, Lincolnshire, 10^th September 2016

Having ‘dipped’ the (same) bird at Minsmere RSPB Reserve in Suffolk (or at least failed to find the opportunity to go before it did on Saturday the 6th August 2016!) I was massively consoled when it was relocated some 140 miles to the north-west (if it flew like a crow.....) at Alkborough Flats Nature Reserve in Lincolnshire on Tuesday the 30th August 2016.

Just where it originally came from and what it was doing between the 6th and the 30th August didn’t particularly exercise me. What did exercise me was just how I was going to work in seeing it in amongst everything else. For example, I was in deepest Aberdeenshire when the news broke and remained there until returning to Edinburgh late the next night.

I was bogged down with work on the Moray Reinforcement Pipeline Project in Aberdeenshire and also the second Castle Stuart Golf Course Project in Highland until Tuesday the 6th September or so. However, simultaneously, I was ‘phoned by best mate Gary on Monday the 5th September offering me use of his season ticket for the Burnley v. Hull City game on Saturday the 10th September.

A scheme of things then began to emerge involve seeing the bird (or at least attempting to!) and seeing the Burnley v. Hull City game in a combined mission.

I was though, constrained by my commitment to take Tessa to gymnastics after school on Friday the 9th September. This meant I wouldn’t be able to leave until c.14:00 on the Friday; it certainly wouldn’t be a birthday tick, although it could still be a belated one....... .

I e-mailed Ken on Tuesday the 6th September, making a tentative suggestion of going for the swamp monster with him on the Friday.

This scheme of things came to fruition, so that having dropped Tessa off in Linlithgow before 14:00 we journeyed through indifferent weather (rain on the M74 and then it nearly went dark an hour or so before we got there whilst we were on the AI(M)!) via the M8, M74, M6, A66, A1(M), M62, M180 and M181 (eh?) to Scunthorpe and then local roads around Scunthorpe and beyond to Alkborough.

But where to go ........?

Under the duress of impending darkness, clarity of thought wasn’t foremost, and we were befuddled by the ‘directions’. Initially, we humm’ed and harr’ed about just which of the signposted car-parks in and around Alkborough to use. We selected the right one but hurried from there down off the escarpment towards the reserve below for no particular reason. Here we met a birder coming back from the reserve who suggested that the only other birders around were the local boys we had chatted to who were walking out to the hide from the car-park accessible from within Alkborough itself. We stormed back up the escarpment and jumped back in the car and returned back into the village and down the escarpment to the other car-park.

From here we yomped to the hide with the expectation that it would be on view from there.... .

It wasn’t, and worse, the hide was occupied by a couple of ‘know very little’s’ and a couple who had the good sense to leave.... .

We stayed longer than was necessary in the forlorn hope of it suddenly appearing, but there was no chance (all the more so when we got to grips with its whereabouts the following morning).

But I am getting ahead of myself.

We returned to the car and travelled back into Scunthorpe where we eventually found somewhere suitable to eat, drink and be snorey. Not easy in somewhere like Scunthorpe.

Better, the place (a half decent hotel) did breakfast from 06.30.

We were there for said breakfast soon after that time, which meant we were back at the original car-park relatively early that morning. Two or more cars gave hope. As did a group of three birders making their way south along the top of the ridge as I now believed we should have done.

Better still, when we followed, we met two birders coming back from the same direction, one of whom provided Ken with confirmation that it was showing, and detailed directions as to the location from which it could be viewed.

We made our way along the field edge and then down the bank onto the parallel track, and then through a gap in the hedge to the west and along a footpath to a point above some horse paddocks. Here we caught up with the three birders and joined them scanning the distant pools.

Or rather, one pool in particular. Initially, I struggled to work out which pools we were meant to be looking at, but once I got properly set up, I joined Ken and the others scanning one particular edge of the pool in question. I quickly grew bored of scanning this one area, in which the monster was meant to be lurking / emerging.

I began to scan further afield, along the back edge of the same pool. Almost immediately I began to do so, a distant apparition appeared which I (slowly?) realised was it. “I think I’ve got it”, and then, “I’ve got it”, I heard myself saying. I indeed had, but how to get Ken and the others on it? An Avocet standing alone in the middle of the pool made a useful reference point and reasonably quickly everyone else got on it relative to this.

It continued to show, on and off, as it worked its way along the edge of the reed-bed for the rest of the time Ken and I afforded it.

At times it was difficult to locate due to the distances involved, and the light conditions, and the fact that it was often either against, or within, the edge of the reed-bed.

But when it was on view it was bleeding obvious (at least with the ‘scope zoomed up to 60x).

Indeed, it was massive and purple (actually blue) - fnarr fnarr.

No, it was indeed huge. And given the range involved, this was just as well (indeed, given the light conditions the previous evening, I think we may have struggled to see it even if we had been looking from the right place).

As suggested though, when it walked along / away from the edge of the reed-bed it was reasonably obvious, if only due to its size. It wandered alongside the reed-bed skulking in the edge and / or actively searching for and finding food (including, at one stage, what appeared to be a small fish, which it held in its foot).

It was large (the size of a chicken!), and could be of variable shape, depending on whether it was standing erect or reaching forward foraging, etc.. The legs were stilt-like but the neck could also be attenuated.

It had a large pinky-red bill and plate, long (very long) pinky-red legs and big feet and dark eyes (okay, we couldn’t really see this).

Its plumage was various shades of dark blue, constantly changing with the light, and otherwise it had brilliant white under-tail coverts which flashed as it regularly flicked its tail as it walked.

And then it was over to the BOURC....... (who did make the right decision).

Afterwards Ken and I journeyed from Alkborough to Burnley. We did this via Hardcastle Crags, Walshaw Dean, Gorple, Widdop, etc., as I indulged myself showing Ken around my teenage stomping grounds. We made it to Burnley in plenty of time and I duly went to the football match, and Ken suffered more, watching the game in the Talbot Arms. It ended 1.1 with Hull City equalising in the 96 minute.

But I’d seen the swamp thing.

Western Swamphen at Alkborough Flats Nature Reserve, near Alkborough, Lincolnshire, September 2016 (a still captured from a YouTube clip credited to Steve Clifton).

A further notebook type sketch of Western Swamphen. This also commemorates my finest ever moment speaking 'pidgin French'. Towards the end of  three plus weeks travelling alone whilst birding in Morocco in December 1991-January 1992 I visited the marshes of Oued Loukos, near Larache, hopeful of seeing Purple Swampthing for the first time.

Here I asked two young children tending their goats, "Où est l'oiseau avec le grand bec rouge," and they immediately responded,"Ici," pointing out at the nearby marshes! 

Clearly, even from a young age, Morroccans are very good linguists, and I am not.