Franklin’s Gull – near Scorton Gravel Pits and Bolton-on-Swale, North Yorkshire, 12^th November 1991

At the time in the moving feast that is listing (due mainly to taxonomic changes) this was my 365th bird and I made some comment about the number of days in the year... . I’ll not do that here.

Whilst working on the North West Ethylene Pipeline on Tuesday the 12th November 1991 I sneaked off from the northern part of the pipeline route in my jurisdiction near Lancaster to traverse the Pennines and indulge in some nostalgia travelling through the Yorkshire Dales (and back!) to finally catch up with this one.

Once there (where?) I wondered why, as I was faced by hundreds of Black-headed Gulls following a tractor and plough in a very large field adjacent to a tip and working gravel pit.

One solitary birder, with wife, had the field under review but the distance and the size / moves of the flock, not to mention the weather, looked distinctly unpromising. So I set up ‘scope and steeled myself for a long scan. However, during discussions with the other birder I found out the object of our quest was still partially hooded, so although distinctly unimpressed, I became a bit more impressed. But several scans later I was a bit less impressed again. 

Some other birders arrived but we didn’t have any news to give them widespread optimism.

But..... salvation was at hand. The now very bored (non-birding?) wife emerged from the car, and took over the ‘scope, and immediately pronounced, “There’s one there with a hood!”. At the same time, my most recent scan settled on the same bird. I alerted the other others, and then took it in.

Unfortunately, as we attempted to get closer views, our advance coincided with the tractor driver dismounting the tractor and flushing the flock. But, although it had been distant views, these were still reasonable ones.

The darker grey mantle, small size, dark head and striking black and white primary tips were the standout features noted.

In April 2008 I caught up with another in the gull roost at Draycote Water, Warwickshire.

Franklin's Gull, Bolton-on-Swale, North Yorkshire, November 1991 (photographer unknown).

Black-faced Bunting –Pennington Flash Country Park, Leigh, Greater Manchester, 12^th March 1994

Having been alerted by the pager to the presence of a Black-faced Bunting at, of all places, Pennington Flash Country Park, one of the places I used to work at when I was Assistant Wildlife Warden in Wigan, on the morning of Wednesday the 9th March 1994, I had to bide my time. I was forced to sweat it out, knowing Paul Pugh, my erstwhile twitching buddy and rival, had already seen it even before the news was released as he lived very close by in Leigh (and it had been caught and ringed by Peter Alker, my erstwhile colleague at Wigan Metro). This frustration was made worse, when it emerged that Mike Thompson, another twitching buddy from when I lived in St. Albans, had made it on the Thursday morning, having been alerted by me (giving him a nice problem to resolve!)

No pressure!

So it was that on the Friday I left work on the Scotland to Northern Ireland Pipeline Project in Newton Stewart in Galloway in the afternoon, and travelled to Paul’s in Leigh, just 0.5 mile and a few hours away from my scheduled meeting with the newest Sibe on the British list (assuming it would be accepted, obviously.....).

I was up at 06:00 and there (with parking ticket) by 06:40. The crowd of c.90 had already occupied the track through the areas of landscaping planting but Paul’s local knowledge stood me in good stead. By moving further along the track to a point from which I was able to look directly along the net ride / feeding area, I was in pole position when the bird appeared at c.07:00.

I was about 25 m away from where it apparently showed feeding amongst the other buntings and finches. Viewing even from this prime position was not easy due to the intervening shrubs, etc., and the rain. Did I say it was raining? It was raining.

However, whilst watching the comings and goings of the Reed Buntings, in particular, tension was mounting. Where was it? Had it gone? Due to Paul’s stories of its superficial likeness to a Dunnock the appearance of these pseudos caused further flutters.

Then there it was! Yes! I knew it must be it, but Paul’s shout confirmed my suspicions. Apparently non-descript, it did indeed resemble a Dunnock, but the white under-tail coverts and outer tail feathers and dark grey hood were immediately obvious. As further views, in better light, were obtained, the bunting-type beak with a flesh-coloured base / lower mandible and the more subtle aspects of the head plumage (a bit like a first-winter male Reed Bunting with a moustachial stripe, etc.), became more apparent. Otherwise, the plumage was typical of a streaked bunting, although it had two reasonably prominent wing-bars.

It had surprisingly secretive behaviour – it was skulking, and generally on the ground, scuttling from the cover to feed with the Reed Buntings, occasionally tail-pumping, before scuttling back.

I managed several quite prolonged views with the ‘scope due to the position I had managed to get, and this predictable pattern of behaviour.

It was good to see such a bird under these circumstances (which were like scenes on the Scillies) on Paul’s doorstep, twitching a mega in Wigan Metro, of all places. However, controversy reared its ugly head with aspersions being cast about the birds’ origin. But I was happy enough..... (although I commented that I’d be counting Chestnut-flanked White-eye and Verditer Fycatcher next!).

Thankfully, it was duly accepted as a first for Britain and Ireland.

Many years later, a second bird was seen on Bressay during the fantastic October of 2016 (meaning that I had seen two of the seven records prior to 2021). Although it wasn’t new for me. once again, in that remarkable autumn, I was standing next to Ken Shaw when we were watching a bird that was new for either one of us, or both of us.

Black-faced Bunting. Pennington Flash Country Park, Leigh, Greater Manchester, March 1994 (photograph credited to Paul Pugh). 

Black-faced Bunting. Pennington Flash Country Park, Leigh, Greater Manchester, March 1994 (photographs credited to Paul Pugh). 

Black-faced Bunting. Bressay, Shetland, October 2016 (photograph credited to Stuart Piner). We did indeed only see the bird in flight, but nothing like as well as this!

 Yellow-browed Bunting –St. Agnes, Scillies, Cornwall, 19^th October 1994

Sketch of the Yellow-browed Bunting, attempting (and failing!) to capture the epic moment when it appeared at the top of a previously quivering stem of vegetation.

On Monday the 19th October 1994, towards the end of an excellent day of birding on St. Agnes and Gugh, including a mystery tacking Sylvia warbler, a Dusky Warbler (and a Little Bunting overhead there – or was it?), Peregrine, Firecrest, etc., Gilly and I found ourselves at The Parsonage, chatting to Ray Turley, whilst casually working our way through the numerous Chiffchaff.

We were wondering about which way to go back to the quay as it was 16:00. We opted to go back past the Great Pool, so that Gilly could see some more of the island.

So it was that we again bumped into Ray Turley along with some eight others (most of whom appeared to be by-standers, apart from John Wright, whose bird it ultimately was) trying to sort out an ‘odd’ Little Bunting which was in the small field they were looking into at a gate into opposite the Fruit Cage and near the old obs.. We joined them and almost immediately both Gilly and I were on it as it hopped about on the ground in front of a line of currant bushes within 10 m.

Views were consequently good as the bird fed on the bare ground amongst sparse weed cover. However, the bird was working away from us, although some crown stripes could be seen. These were steely white – it was not a Little Bunting.

Suddenly it obligingly went up on a dead stem and showed brilliantly. I, it seemed, initially was the only one on it and gorged myself on the view whilst trying to blurt out directions. Obvious were the bright yellow splodges on the supercilium. I got others onto it and then moved towards John Wright and said, “It’s got yellow on it! He immediately put the identity to it, and shouted, “Yellow-browed Bunting! It’s a Yellow-browed Bunting”. Ray Turley asked for it to be put out on the Citizen Band radio. Only then did we question the identity – could it be an American sparrow – such as White-throated Sparrow?

Within a minute, birders were descending, crashing into our backs, and I became more pre-occupied with crowd control. The bird, needless to say, was flushed. So were we. We left, convinced that we would be doing very well to get better views.

The lasting impression was the stunning head pattern as the whole bird was not clearly seen.

Only some considerable time later did it emerge that Calum Scott, Stuart Rivers and Mark Oksien (and other Scottish based birders?) had been staying very close by and had spent a couple of days or so trying to sort out the mystery bunting they kept on seeing. Small world stuff, as I know each of them well, for instance, having worked and socialised with Calum, served on the Isle of May Bird Observatory Trust Committee with Mark and Stuart, and visited both Barra and the Isle of May with them in various instances. And yes, all of this was a long time before they 'discovered' Barra.

Yellow-browed Bunting, St Agnes, Scilly, October 1994 (photograph credited to Rob Wilson).

Red-footed Booby – Bishop Rock Lighthouse, west of the Scillies, Scilly, 22^nd October 2023

There's a Red-footed Booby perched on the net!!!!!

When a Red-footed Booby was observed during a pelagic off the Scillies on the 7th August 2023 I really thought nothing of it. Ultra-rare boobies were species which were, as far as I was concerned, always going to be out of reach. After all, the only previous record involved a bird found exhausted on a beach in St. Leonards-on-Sea in Sussex on the 4th September 2016, before it was rehabilitated by the RSPCA at a specialist RSPCA facility at Mallydams Wood in Hastings. Here it remained, out of reach of those who argued they were entitled to see it …… (ho-hum…) until it was repatriated to Grand Cayman in the Cayman Islands in mid-December. Unfortunately, it then died there whilst still in quarantine.

Yes, this tropical, oceanic species wasn’t one I, in any way, anticipated adding to my UK list anytime soon (ever).

So, when news that the (same) Red-footed Booby had incredibly been discovered roosting on the Bishop Rock lighthouse on the 14th August, I was scarcely more enthused.

It was then also connected with on the Bishop Rock lighthouse subsequently on the 15th, 16th and 17th August during special boat trips out there (and it was ever ‘scoped from Peninnis Head on St. Mary’s on the latter date). As such, it was soon being well and truly twitched by all and sundry, as social media made all too apparent.

However, it not seen early in the afternoon on the 18th August or on the 19th August, but then it was seen on virtually every day between the 20th August and 15th September (although on the 27th August it was seen from a Scilly pelagic and not on the Bishop Rock lighthouse). To the discerning, by now, there was something a pattern emerging. Basically, it was not always present on the lighthouse earlier in the day (when, presumably it was foraging in nearby waters), but was more reliable later on, (when, presumably, it had successfully caught enough fish, and, as such, was resting on the lighthouse). Indeed, on at least a couple of occasions, as suggested, it was seen at sea from pelagics earlier in the day during this period.

Social media continued to appraise me of the twitch-ability (sorry, that’s a shocking ‘word’), whether or not I wanted to know. Indeed, conventional media did the same; on the 24th August my non-birding mate Chris Hirst asked me if I was going to twitch it on our WhatsApp group. He actually asked, “Are you heading to the Isles of Scilly to see the Red Booby (sic). Big fuss on breakfast tv!!” My best mate, Gary Hitchen corrected Chris on my behalf, “Red-footed Booby Chris” and (incorrectly) anticipated, “I imagine the magic carpet has already taken flight southwards!”

More realistically, I volunteered, “Nah. Would love too but...” but added, “Maybe it can do the decent thing and hang around until I'm there in October..... 😳” (Chris Pendlebury and I had long planned to visit the Scillies between the 13th and 23rd October, given that his parents had booked a place there and rooms were available).

Predictably, Gary later informed us that he had, “Been getting tremendous results this morning searching for booby”.

None of this altered my view that this particular booby was probably beyond my reach, as tantalising as it was to think about getting my hands on one for my list.

Incredibly, to increase my angst, as well as the Red-footed Booby, a Brown Booby was watched by the twitchers on the Sapphire on the 28th August as it also roosted on the Bishop Rock lighthouse!!!!!!!

However, subsequently, after being tantalised by another exotic booby (one which had potentially been ‘gettable’ from the garden of my flat), I duly added the latter species to my list on the 10th September. A booby in the hand is better than one in the bush, clearly (or something like that 😊). But two?

Knowing it was just not happening but even then, secretly harbouring hopes that it just might stick until Chris Pendlebury and I travelled to the Scillies in mid-October 2023 was a disconcerting state to be in. It was wildly ambitious, but..... .

Predictably, as our pre-planned visit to the Scillies approached, after the 15th September the Red-footed Booby was seen on a more intermittent basis, possibly as there were less trips out to the Bishop Rock. As such, it was seen on the 23rd September (but not the 29th September) and the 8th and 11th October (but not the 9th, 10th and 15th October).

So, potentially, we were going to be close, but not close enough, and this feeling was heightened on the 8th October, when news reached us that Chris’ dad Keith had his Sunday lunch at the St Mary’s Golf Clubhouse spoiled by news that the booby had returned, and there would be a boat from St Mary’s at 13:30. Commendably, like any sensible Lancastrian, advised of this news, Keith wolfed down his Sunday lunch and ran down to the quay for the boat…. And thus, he duly retained his lunch and obtained a fantastic addition to his list. Fair play.

The day before we departed for the Scillies on Friday the 13th October, the inner quorum of the Bean Goose Advisory Group convened for a pre-meeting in advance of our next formal meeting on the 26th October, and I listened as Rick Goater relayed his experiences catching up with the Red-footed Booby when in the Scillies earlier in the autumn…… . Ho-hum.

So it was that when we arrived in Scilly on the 14th October, I wasn’t wildly optimistic about my chances of catching up with the Red-footed Booby, despite (and because of) all and sundry having successfully done so. Trips to see it were infrequent, and, worse, when a trip out to the Bishop Rock was planned that afternoon, it was subsequently cancelled, as there was no sign of it from a pelagic earlier in the day.

Further, we experienced some ‘inclement’, though seasonal, weather for the Scillies, albeit we didn’t receive the full hit of Storm Babet that areas further north and east in England and Scotland did.

Nonetheless, I reasoned that a bird species which belonged in the tropical waters of the Atlantic Ocean might just have got the hint it was no longer in the tropics when the first equinoxal storms hit the waters of Scilly……. .

Scilly (as ever?) tantalised but frustrated. In the absence of mega birds, I was very interested in seeing the vagrant insects that were reported (in particular, Green Darners, American Painted Ladies, Vagrant Emperors and locust species) but they eluded me, despite, horrendously, twitching the Green Darner on Bryher on the 20th October that Chris had connected with the previous day, an experience made way worse by it being at the very same place I had dipped Blackburnian Warbler the previous year. Moving on….. .

This caused very dark thoughts about the whole Scilly experience, which, combined with the weather and lack of really good birds was not good.

However, right at the end of our stay, salvation was potentially offered when it was confirmed on Saturday the 21st October that there would be one last trip out to the Bishop Rock lighthouse to try to see the Red-footed Booby on Sunday the 22nd October. This was two weeks after the last positive sighting (the one which fast-forwarded Keith’s Sunday lunch). It was also, apparently 69 days (or nearly ten weeks) since the bird had first been recorded on the Bishop Rock (and 76 days since it had initially been seen nearby during a pelagic).

As such, it was a a big gamble. However, we were leaving the following day, so my attitude was ‘what the hell’.

Chris Pendlebury did his usual thing of leaving any decision until as late as possible, whereas his dad was optimistic on our behalf.

I wasn’t anything like as optimistic and convinced myself going out to the Bishop Rock would just be a great experience anyway. More to the point, I knew, inevitably, if I didn’t go, it would be seen. The morning of the day the trip out to the Bishop Rock lighthouse was planned, I bumped into Adam Hutt and his partner, Heather Bennett, on The Garrison. Adam indicated he would be going on the trip, and I took this as a positive omen.

Fortunately, (though as had been forecast – hence the trip) the weather that day was relatively benign and the sea state comparatively calm.

I wandered down to the quay sometime before the 15:30 departure time, and was somewhat surprised to see a good number of folk already queuing to get on the Sapphire (apparently there were 75 of us). Chris, who had been to Tresco with his parents, was at the head of the queue and invited me to join him. Soon afterwards we descended the steps and clambered abroad. We quickly bagged seats on the port side near the wheelhouse, reasonably sheltered and well-positioned in terms of the stability of the boat. Adam joined us, and sat opposite, facing outwards (we were facing inwards, which was perhaps not the best, with hindsight).

Anyway, we headed off towards Bishop Rock, taking an incredible course between St. Agnes and Annet and various of the Western Rocks. It was indeed, ‘comparatively calm’ but all the same it was exhilarating to be out in the Western Approaches taking a course so close to the incredibly complex rock islets of the Western Rocks. For example, memorably, we went through, what, I think, was the ‘Crebawethan Neck’ a narrow and shallow channel between Great Crebawethan and the various rocky outcrops to the south.

I found it very exciting; I was very much in my element, whilst simultaneously very definitely not being in my element!

Once we had passed the next islet, Little Crebawethan, only Bishop Rock itself remained, and the lighthouse itself loomed ever larger ahead of us. However, as we were going roughly west south-west, and it was the late afternoon, we were looking into the sun to some extent.

By now I was increasingly optimistic.

As we closed in on the lighthouse, we checked it out and Chris commented that there was a bird atop the lighthouse on the western side which ‘could be it’. Very soon afterwards there was an announcement over the Sapphire’s tannoy which, in a very low-key way, confirmed the target of our quest was indeed there!!!

I could definitely see what was presumably it too, and so I was (quietly) even more exhilarated. Wow!! After all this time I had scored big-time!!!

Suffice to say, we duly closed on the lighthouse and circled it, allowing everyone to have views of the target of our quest and take photographs, etc.. Viewing wasn’t necessarily easy from a packed, small boat which was gently rocking with the swell, looking up at the bird perched on the edge of the tower-top helicopter platform safety netting high above us, often in the bright light of the sun.

Nonetheless, views were had, and it was on my list. Handshakes between myself and Adam and Chris seemed appropriate.

Meanwhile, as we bobbed about beneath the lighthouse, it was apparent that there was a large-scale feeding frenzy of seabirds to the immediate west, so after a couple of circumnavigations we went off to take this in as well - a real bonus.

It was truly spectacular, and involved (as estimated by Joe Pender) c.300 Cory’s Shearwater, c.35 Great Shearwater, 11 Sooty Shearwaters, 4 Manx Shearwaters, 1 Great Skua, c.50 Short-beaked Common Dolphin and c.50 Atlantic Bluefin Tuna. I didn’t necessarily see these numbers or the smaller shearwaters that were involved (Adam and Chris, for example, also had a Balearic Shearwater) but I certainly saw very well the incredible concentration of big shearwaters and dolphins, and also, the tuna.

After taking in this spectacle, we returned to the Bishop Rock for seconds of the Red-footed Booby, again circumnavigating the lighthouse and craning our necks to see the bird.

As it was roosting, it wasn’t necessarily the most active of birds, despite a couple of attempts to stir it into action by sounding the Sapphire’s horn. Nonetheless, it occasionally shuffled about, revealed its head and neck, and flapped its wings.

It was a typical booby in terms of size and shape (though is apparently smaller – size was difficult to judge given where it was). It’s plumage was white or off-white with the exception of the wings and tail which were dark brown in terms of the tail and flight feathers and a dirty grey-brown in terms of the coverts, etc.. There was a hint of yellowish colour to the head and there was some darker feathering around the margins of the bill and on the throat. The eye was dark brown. The bill was pinkish white in colour and, predictably, the feet were orangey-red.

Fantastic!!!

Chris and I disembarked the Sapphire and went straight to the Atlantic Hotel to celebrate with a Sunday roast with his parents. We were keen to emphasise Keith that this was the preferred sequence in which to organise things! 😂 I enjoyed this post-twitch meal very much, all the more so for seeing David Bradshaw and his wife whilst there.

Ours is such a perplexing, ever-changing hobby. In the distant past I had seen Brown Boobies off Eilat, but never in my wildest dreams did I think I would feast my eyes on four boobies during 2023; lots of Peruvian ones and a Masked one on the Pacific coast of Chile, and, incredibly, for my British list, two in British waters, a Brown one in a completely unnatural setting on the Tees-side coast of the North Sea, and then this one in (the lighthouse excepted) the completely natural setting of the Western Approaches of the Atlantic off the Scillies. Wow!!! Wow!!!!

Red-footed Booby, Bishop Rock Lighthouse, west of the Scillies, Scilly, October 2023 (photograph credited to Chris Pendlebury).

Bobolink – Great Pool and Fraggle Rock Café, Bryher, Isles of Scilly, 15^th October 1996

Again, as had happened before, when this bird turned up on St. Marys on the 7th October 1996, I couldn’t help but start to anticipate this addition. Prematurely – but inevitably. Even as it moved from island to island I remained quietly optimistic. However, it unfortunately disappeared, or at least it did so until about 15:00 on Monday the 14th October, when news of it came over on the C.B., as we (Gilly - my ex- and I - just for clarity.....) were looking for the Red-eyed Vireo at Lower Moors on St. Marys. The news was that it was on Bryher. I was all for going for it, but it was suggested by the owner of the C.B. that there wouldn’t be any more boats. As the resultant pager message indicated that the bird had also been seen on the previous day as well, I became more optimistic again.

However, this mood plummeted when I later found out from Janine Cleary that Paul Pugh had gone to Bryher, once they had returned from St. Agnes, and plunged even further when I found out from Paul that the thing had been kicked a few times once it had gone to roost. I could have got there and now it might have gone.

Despite a heavy night Gilly and I managed to make it to Bryher on the first boat the following morning. However, circumstances were less than promising as it was windy and showery. As a result, it was a choppy crossing, so we were both very wet on arrival. We yomped across the island to the Great Pool area were the consensus was that the bird had last been seen in a patch of bramble and bracken on the west side of the pool. This was promptly surrounded and eventually the bird was sighted. However, it was not impressed by the audience, and flew over part of the assembly to the dunes behind Great Popplestones Bay, initially in the company of a Greenfinch, and not the following six Greenfinches, as was suggested by others birders.

Here, in the frenzy, it was flushed on three more occasions, giving further brief flight views. These were even less satisfactory due to my waterlogged bins, but at least I had heard it call, unlike most others there. Eventually, it flew to a hillside to the west of the Chapel. Gilly and I decided to walk towards it in an around about way, and made our way past the fields, leaving behind most of the other birders, many of whom failed to even follow it. As we made our way there, we saw someone in the distance moving across the hillside towards where the bird had disappeared.

Was he a birder? I was convinced he was going to flush it and shortly afterwards something flew over us towards the Fraggle Rock Cafe area – calling. It was it!

Working entirely on intuition, we followed it over the horizon where I found a rank grass field. Ideal!

After some ‘debate’ we settled down to watch over the field. I was convinced that the bird was in there.

Some ten or so minutes later I picked it out amongst the sparrows at the other end of the field, and got it in the ‘scope. Unfortunately, Gilly lost then it. Small groups of other birders were now nearby and although I had suggested to Gilly that we wouldn’t bring them over until we had good views, I did beckon two over.

We told them that we had it in the field, and then Gilly redeemed herself and re-located it on a fence in the field. We got one of the other two birders on it but after an all too brief period it flew off again over the Fraggle Rock Cafe.

Wow! We’d had a rarity all to ourselves.

In flight it looked fairly long-winged and bulky, with apparently lemon yellow under-tail coverts and throat. The call was a short, soft “pink”.

During the brief views, the highly striped upperparts, the lightly streaked underparts and the broadly striped head were seen.

The field where, fantastically, we were able to relocate the Bobolink.

Bobolink, Bryher, Scilly, October 1996 (photographer unknown).

October.....

 I will be back. In the middle of what is an interesting autumn, hopefully generating more tales to tell.

Brown Booby – South Gare, Redcar, Cleveland, 10^th September 2023

I’m going to attempt to write this account without any innuendo, but this will not be easy, deliberate or otherwise.

In a parallel universe to my ‘real’ world, I’d tried to never become too fixated with boobies, as after all, they were unobtainable, at least for the likes of me.

For example, Brown Booby was a species cursed by claims which never, ever saw the light of day (even when they perhaps weren’t juvenile or immature Gannets!).

For instance, (and there may well be several others such records), Rare Bird Alert (RBA) reported an adult off Point Lynas, Anglesey on the 2nd September 2002 but this has never been accepted.

On the 2nd January 2016, a long-deceased tideline corpse was discovered on Owenahinccha Beach, County Cork, and this became the first accepted record for the British Isles. Later that year, on both the 13th and 14th August 2016, a live specimen was seen south-west of Skellig Islands, County Kerry.

Meanwhile, records elsewhere in the Western Palearctic gradually climbed too, and increasingly involved birds away from more obvious locations such as Eilat, on the Red Sea in Israel, or the sub-tropical Azores in the Atlantic. Perhaps predictably, there were records from Madeira and the Canary Islands. Perhaps less predictably, there were also records (or reported records anyway) from Portugal, Spain, Italy and Turkey, and by 2017, from the Netherlands and Germany.

Something was happening…… .

In the UK the first accepted record involved a bird photographed off Swalecliff in Kent on the 19th August 2019.

Soon afterwards, things went a bit silly, as three different birds were seen in (or off) Cornwall in less than two weeks. More specifically, between the 26th – 31st August one frequented the St Ives and Godrevy Bay area for six days, between the 2nd and 6th September a first summer bird remained around the Kynance Cove area for five days and on the 2nd September, another was seen at sea 40 km north-west of Cape Cornwall.

Now, I should mention that, at this point I began to take boobies a lot more seriously, as a certain Alison Downs, who, as Alison Bunting had been my girlfriend when I lived and worked in Dorset, had ticked off the Kynance Cove bird. As this was the only species on her UK list that I hadn’t seen, there was now a very definite reason to be MUCH more interested in boobies…….. .

Although 2017 and 2018 only produced one report of Brown Booby respectively elsewhere in the Western Palearctic (that for 2017 being from the ever-reliable Eilat, whilst that for 2018 was again from mainland Spain) 2019 produced a series of records in Spain and France, and latterly two in Italy.

Something was definitely happening…… .

2020 produced a plethora of reported Brown Boobies from the UK, but to date, only the first of these, a bird which was reported on a trawler 8 km south of Bembridge in the Isle of Wight, has been accepted.

Reports of a possible off Withernsea, East Yorkshire on the 4th July, two off Porthgwarra / St Levan, Cornwall on the 2nd August, one off Port Eynon, the Gower, Glamorgan on the 23rd August, one past Pendeen Watch, Cornwall on the 27th August, one past Trevose Head, Cornwall on the 17th September 2020 and one south past Southwold, Suffolk on the 1st November haven’t yet re-surfaced as accepted records.

Meanwhile in Ireland one was seen 84 miles south-west of Cape Clear, County Cork on the 13th July and that same day, another was located at Greystones, County Wicklow. To increase my angst, I alerted Alan Lauder, my colleague as Chairman of the Isle of May Bird Observatory and Field Station Trust about this bird as it was close to his home in County Wicklow. Sadly, after Alan had seen it, it was taken into care and subsequently died four days later.

Further afield, there were some ten reports from elsewhere in the Western Palaearctic during 2020, the majority from mainland Portugal (as well as a record from the Azores), and mainland Spain (as well as a record from the Canary Islands) and France but also two records from the Netherlands and one from Denmark.

Something was very definitely happening…… .

However, 2021 and 2022 both heightened my sense that, for me at least, boobies were likely to remain unobtainable.

In 2021, on the 9th and 11th August Brown Boobies were reported south past Boulmer and Bamburgh in Northumberland respectively, whilst on the 21st August a possible immature booby species was reported past Portland Bill in Dorset. Lastly, a Christmas Brown Booby (as opposed to a Christmas Island Frigatebird) was reported south past Flamborough Head, East Yorkshire on the 25th December….. . Spain had seven (reported) records and Sweden(!) one.

2022 commenced with a Brown Booby being taken into care at Hove in Sussex on the 3rd January, whilst another was also taken into care at Perranporth in Cornwall on the 18th February. Sea temperatures might have been getting warmer, but…… . Finally, in 2022 there was also another record in Ireland, this relating to a bird seen in Dublin, County Dublin on the 20th October 2022.

There were some twelve records elsewhere in the Western Palaearctic during the year, and in the established pattern, (away from the Azores) almost all of these were from mainland Spain or France.

So, in a British Isles sense, a handful of records a year, involving birds in Ireland, birds taken into care on or soon after the day they were discovered, or birds passing places I rarely visited, let alone sea-watched from.

Nah, something might have been happening, but it just wasn’t happening for me, was it?

Although I was aware of the extraordinarily high sea temperatures recorded in the North Sea by mid-summer 2023, I wasn’t aware that, perhaps as a result, records of Brown Booby had penetrated as far north as waters of the Baltic Sea off Helsinki, Finland and off Sodermaland, Sweden (where one was found on the deck of a ship in early August) in addition to more ‘typical’ records in Spain and France.

2023 saw me working near Inverness as the Environmental Clerk of Works on the project to create a second world-class golf course at Castle Stuart (aka Cabot Highlands).

This entailed being on site for a few days each fortnight, typically commuting from home in South Queensferry to my local accommodation and back in my car every other week.

However, on Sunday the 13th August, I opted to return north by getting a lift with my house mate and work colleague, Mik Wells, as he was passing South Queensferry on his way back to work after a few days down south.

This had long been talked about, as it enabled me to take the train back home, and to do so via Aberdeen, so that I could visit Ellen and her boyfriend Shane en route.

So it was that I caught the train from Nairn to Aberdeen on the morning of the 17th August. On arrival, I then walked from the railway station in Aberdeen to Ellen and Shane’s flat. I arrived in Aberdeen just before 11:30. At 11:20 there was a message on the RBA app stating, “Lothian probable Brown Booby flew east past Cramond Island with Gannets”, followed by another saying, “MEGA Lothian BROWN BOOBY Cramond Island again at 11:42”. Similar messages (and probably ones I was more instantly aware of) appeared on both the Lothian and Fife Bird news WhatsApp groups.

Now, I cannot remember just when I first saw these messages, but I suspect it was somewhile later. I was shattered when I arrived at Ellen and Shane’s as I had a lot of baggage with me. Once I had recovered and lunched Ellen and I walked to the nearby Sunnyside Park and worked on her allotment all afternoon. This was very enjoyable and I don’t remember it being spoiled by the news of the Brown Booby. All the same, this bird may just have been visible from home had I been there and known about it, though this was perhaps not very likely. I do remember seeing that the bird had been seen by Mervyn Griffin, and as such smirked at the naysayers who undoubtedly dismissed the record as a juvenile Gannet. All the more, so when it emerged that someone called Martin Auld had coincidentally photographed the bird, providing invaluable photographic evidence as well!

Things may well have been happening, but certainly they weren’t happening for me. Surely, I’d missed my best chance, a bird on my door-step.

Incredibly, the same bird was then seen by just two observers at Fife Ness at 14:29 (as everyone else had headed west) and it (or a probable) was also seen from Garron Point, Stonehaven at 16:25.

Even more incredibly, it was then seen by two good friends, Andy Wiliams and Al McNee at 15:30 the following day at Tarbet Ness, Highland who had gone there purely on the basis of a (very good) hunch. And again, Andy obtained invaluable images.

August 2023 continued to produce Brown Booby reports. One was seen off Sheringham and Cley, Norfolk at 07:48 and 08:17 respectively on the 19th August 2023, and it or another was seen off the latter site on the 29th August.

Worse, much worse, a Red-footed Booby was seen off Scilly and on the Bishop Rock Lighthouse in late August and was heavily twitched. As a result, absolutely incredibly, both it and a Brown Booby were seen there on the 28th – 29th August. What an incredible pair!!!!!

I was on the Isle of May between the 2nd and 9th September for what proved to be an excellent week (featuring Greenish Warbler, Barred Warbler, two Common Rosefinch and a first for the Isle of May, a Spotted Sandpiper, plus and excellent, young, hard-working, non-drinking crew…….).

More reports of Brown Booby ensued. The day before we arrived on the Isle of May (i.e., on the 1st September), an adult which was seen flying north past Eyemouth, Borders.

On the morning of the 3rd September, one was seen on sea off Flamborough Head, East Yorkshire. The following day, presumably this bird, an adult, was seen at Filey Brigg, Filey, East Yorkshire at 07:40. By 08:52 it was off Hunmanby Gap, East Yorkshire, where it broadly remained for much of the day. It was briefly seen there at 07:30 and between10:06 and 11.10 the following morning (the 5th September) but then, in a case of déjà vu, another Brown Booby was seen between 09:42 and 10:40 and 16:40 and the evening of the 5th September from Pettycur, Kinghorn, Fife. It was also viewable from Lothian side too, for example, it was seen from Cramond Island on the morning of the 6th September. AAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Meanwhile, the bird in north-east England was seen at Filey, North Yorkshire at around midday on the 5th September before moving north to Whitby and Sandsend in North Yorkshire later that afternoon and returning south to Hunmanby Gap and Filey that evening.

It was seen at Long Nab, Burniston, Yorkshire at 07:30 on the 6th September and subsequently was seen at Cowbar Nab, Cleveland, at 08:45, Hartlepool Headland at 09:51, Hendon, County Durham at 10:39, Marsden, County Durham at 10:50, Cullercoats, Northumberland at 11:07, St. Mary’s Island, Northumberland at 1114 and Souter Lighthouse, Whitburn, County Durham at 12.:15. Subsequently, from that afternoon onwards, it settled in the area at the mouth of the Tees, being variously seen between Seaton Snook and South Gare, as well as Seal Sands. Very early the following day in frequented similar places, before eventually becoming more reliable at South Gare where it regularly perched on various navigation buoys in the Tees from early morning onwards, as it did for the next few days. That is, it was relatively settled, and as such reliable and accessible……. .

Frustratingly, I was still on the Isle of May until the morning of the 9th September, so I was limited to monitoring its ongoing presence from afar. It was sticking, but how long for?

Early on the morning we left the Isle of May, the 9th September, a Brown Booby was reported flying east past Lossiemouth, Moray (close to Nairn where I was living when working at Castle Stuart). This was a mere distraction though, as the South Gare was still there!!!! Amy King, one of my crew on the Isle of May, was planning to take in the Brown Booby on her way back to Bempton that day. I gave Graeme Cook and Chris Pendlebury lifts home to Muthill and Dunblane respectively, and Chris, knowing my torture, encouraged me to carry straight on to South Gare after dropping him off.

But I couldn’t. I was shattered, and had to commence washing, etc., in preparation for my next visit to Castle Stuart, and, immediately afterwards, a week on Lewis with Ken and Amanda Shaw and Andy Williams.

So, I planned to go the next day, as soon as I could / as soon as there was positive news. Amy had connected, which encouraged me. There was early news by 07:00 and, having woken reasonably early, I was able to leave before 08:15. The drive as thankfully uneventful (I’d even filled the car up the previously evening). Having negotiated my way around the blitzkrieg of the Tees-side conurbation (helpfully liaising with Steely as I did so) to Redcar I continued out past the blitzkrieg of the former steelworks. As Steely had suggested, this was a landscape a bit like a post-industrial Spurn.

Anyway, I drove as far as I thought sensible and parked up where I could, amongst the hotch-potch of vehicles that flanked the road. The journey had taken around four hours.

I could see at least one pair of the red and green navigation buoys and a few distant birders / toggers dotted about, so I surmised I might be able to see the object of my quest from where I was parked. As quickly as my stiffness would allow, I emerged from the car and grabbed my bins from my rucksack in the boot. Sure enough, it was on one of the pair of buoys closest to where I was. It was OML!!!

I quickly assembled my ‘scope and tripod and walked down the nearby slope to the edge of the Tees, from where I intended ‘scoping the bird.

However, as I set up my ‘scope, it flew off upriver. I managed to find it as it did so, amongst the large numbers of terns, gulls and cormorants, but this wasn’t very satisfactory; distant and more distant flight views.

I just knew though it would come back, and after some scanning, I picked it up flying back towards the mouth of the river occasionally harried by immature gulls.

I followed it, and possibly because it was being harried, or because its previous perch was occupied by a Greater Black-backed Gull, it continued on to green navigation buoy 5.

Again, I followed it, walking as fast as my little legs would carry me. Thankfully, it was still there when I arrived at a suitable viewing point, and I enjoyed good views for 30 plus minutes or more, in the company of a togger and an off-duty police officer from Sheffield. This resulted in some excellent craic as I watched and attempted to photograph the bird. Perhaps it was a little distant and a little hazy due to the haar, but I could see more than enough.

It was a typical booby in shape, (well, I had seen both Peruvian and Masked earlier in the year – like a smallish elongated Gannet?), with dark brown plumage, excepting for white underparts, sharply demarcated from the brown plumage with a straight horizontal line at mid-breast level. The bill was long and pointed, and almost conical-like, edged by a jagged line to the brown facial plumage. The eye was dark, and was set in a small area of dark brown plumage within the beak area. The wing-tips and the tail were both similar in length when the bird was at rest. The beak was a slightly pinkish ivory and the legs were a (slightly greenish?) yellow.

I also enjoyed good flight views in the ‘scope as it flew past distantly, when the brown edged white underwing pattern and long brown pointed tail were evident. The remiges appeared worn,

The journey home was also more than acceptable despite slight delays due to a road closure to do with the Great North Run (although this also resulted in views of the Red Arrows), and due to a rainstorm.

Brown Booby, South Gare, Cleveland, September 2023 (photograph credited to Alex Jones).