Saturday 28 December 2019

Patch Eastern Delight

Personally I put very little effort into the patch in 2019, and with there being fewer active local birders these days it’s now seriously underwatched. I’d like to do better in 2020, but then I always say that. A few stalwarts plug away, and every so often one of them deservedly stumbles on a good local bird. It’s of course very rare that we get a proper ‘BB rarity’, and when we do it’s invariably of the quacking or wading waterbird kind. I’d often wondered if we would ever get a passerine BB rarity, but it’s always seemed fanciful. As far as I know the only one ever was an Alpine Swift seen by Manc birder James Walsh in 1998, and that’s not even a proper passerine.

So Dave Bedford definitely struck patch gold (what a rubbish phrase that is) on Christmas Eve, when he found an Eastern Stonechat on Ashton’s Flash. It later transpired that both Greg and Malc had seen it earlier, but quite understandably had assumed it was a common stonechat.

Given the date it was likely to stay, but I was a little frustrated when I failed to connect in brief windows on both Christmas Day and Boxing Day. It was 27th December before my apparently hectic life allowed more concerted effort.

The stonechat had often been elusive, disappearing into the depths of Ashton’s for hours on end, so it took me over an hour to see it with a small group of birders from the bund bench. Views were ok if a little distant on 27th, but much better on 1st Jan. Separating the two (current) species of Eastern Stonechat - Siberian (maurus) and Stejneger’s - is difficult, often impossible, in the field and still requires a DNA sample, although it seems likely that criteria will emerge and stabilise following the split (a word I seem to use more and more). Hopefully DNA will be obtained, but it’s no mean feat to collect one from out there. Think Tolkien’s Dead Marsh from Lord of the Rings and you’re about right.

It’s a first winter male with a face mask just starting to appear, a clearly defined white throat and crucially black underwing axillaries (visible on photos). The peach rump is remarkably extensive, and the overall colour of the bird seemed generally frosty (although would shift with the light), which favour maurus, and there don’t appear to be any darker markings on the rump which are apparently pro-Stejneger’s. The latter could be expected to be perhaps darker overall. The warmth of the underparts could favour Stejneger’s, but could also be that the bird is starting to attain adult colours. It’ll be interesting to see how it changes if it remains a while. So the consensus is it’s likely to be Siberian Stonechat, but it would still be preferable to resolve it in the lab.






Tuesday 19 November 2019

Steller's Eider, Orkney - 17th to 19th November 2019

I have moved very slowly for the big birds of the last few months. Sooner or later this is going to bite me, but once again things worked out and I'm grateful for my good fortune whilst it lasts. Must remember that when it's time to pay the piper.

Anyway, back to the point. News of an immature Steller's Eider, found by local birders Don and Sandra Otter, on the Orkney island of Westray on 29th October came as a bolt out of the blue (don't they always?). My initial reaction was to groan; it's a long way for a dull bird, but there was never any doubt I would go. Despite a history of long-stayers, there hasn't been a UK or Ireland record since a 3 day bird in Moray in 2000 when I was abroad. A lot of my generation had seen this species despite it's extreme rarity, but I had waited 19 years since the last one and the appearance of the Orkney bird definitely made me twitchy. As usual, when news broke I was otherwise engaged, in fact I hadn't even seen the Cornish pipit at this point. A few die-hard souls made the trip up north immediately, including mates Malc C and Al Orton, only for it to result in a disastrous dip. Enforced patience would turn out to be a virtue.

Then there was no news for a few days, not helped by the finders being away for a week, but the majority of birders thought it likely the bird was still there somewhere; there's an awful lot of shoreline on Orkney for it to hide along. We may have all thought it, but only the poster-boy of British twitching Dan Pointon had the drive to go all the way up there and look for it (having left Orkney for the Cornish pipit, returning straight to Orkney, finding a Tengmalm's Owl on the way too). So when Dan re-found the eider on 6th November it wasn't particularly surprising, but it was a n absolute triumph for his tenacity. Fair play to the lad. The bird was still on Westray, on the shoreline in the north of the island, where it remained until the next day. Before promptly disappearing again. 

Thankfully David Roche, warden of adjacent Papa Westray (of 2015 Chestnut Bunting fame), was actively searching and came up trumps. In fact the bird had chosen the exact same favoured bay as the last 70s/80s long-staying Orkney Steller's had frequented. And there it has remained, off on and, until at least early December as I write this.

The bird was a drab 1st winter drake, but there have been quite a few very long stayers. Like everyone else, I'll be delighted if it lingers until it becomes a pristine drake and forces another trip north. That, however, is for another time. Right now the tick-hungry lister in me had been hungrily stirred into action.

Balancing commitments whilst finding a quick and easy way to visit Papa Westray was looking like a bit of a challenge, but sometimes opportunities just present themselves. Some months ago Andy had invited me to join him for a Dundee United game on 16th November (vs. Queen of the South), aka a football based piss-up. Full hospitality, no expense spared, what's not to love (well aside from Scottish football...). As it happens, I was then also asked to work in Forres, near Inverness, from Wednesday 20th for a few days. There was a very fortuitous window of opportunity emerging - could I squeeze in an eider assault between Dundee and Forres? I began to look at options, just in case. It just needed the bird to linger, which of course it duly did. The day approached and plans were finalised, I was all set to go. As the bird was a really long way away, and rather dull in nature, Andy of course decided to join me too. He only does distant and drab...

Cutting to the chase, we had an excellent afternoon at the footy (3-0 win for Dundee Utd and a surprisingly good game), followed by a good session with Andy's dad Mick, son Liam and the brilliant character that is Ken Shaw. Excellent company all round, and more than a few beers were consumed. 


None too shabby. Who'd have thought Scottish football could actually be an enjoyable experience!

Sunday 17th November
Next morning, with surprisngly clear heads, Andy and I made our way north, headed for the Aberdeen to Kirkwall ferry. We had plenty of time and it was a gloriously sunny and calm day. Dan (who else?) had found a candidate Black Scoter a few days previous, so it made sense to break the journey up and do some spotting there even if seeing the scoter was a long-shot. I'd never been there before, but Lunan Bay in Angus is breath-taking. There were rafts of sea duck quite close in, mostly Common Scoter, Velvet Scoter and Long-tailed Ducks, with plenty of Red-throated Divers and a few auks, but no sign of Dan's bird. We decided to move position as there were quite a few birds south of us and into the light. From here there was initially not much new; we kept humming and harring over common scoters which caught the light at distance, but more in hope then expectation. But eventually I picked up what was very obviously the bird in question, identifiable immediately despite it being at some range. Almost immediately, and rather fortuitously, it flew straight at us and just kept coming. In the end I watched it at perhaps 150m range in excellent light, just a shame I didn't have my camera adapter (bloody amateur). An AMERICAN BLACK SCOTER, no doubt of the ID on these views and a great start to the trip. I had really wanted to see this bird today as my views of the North Wales bird in 2001 (I think) were pretty poor, so an upgrade to boot.  



Lunan Bay, Angus. Beaut.


Hand held photos, the best I could manage
We made our way north happy and boarded the MV Hjaltland mid afternoon for the 6 hour crossing to Orkney. Being middle aged soft arses we spent the night in the Kirkwall Hotel, with a couple of beers in the bar before retiring ready for the next day's birding assault.

Monday 18th November
As well as the target clam-hunting quacker, Orkney had been harbouring a Blue Rock Thrush for the last couple of weeks, in a quarry on the tiny island of Lamb Holm. This is conveniently connected by a road bridge/barrier and happens to be close to the airport from where we were scheduled to fly. We had about an 1.5hour window first thing, so we were up and on on it. Despite the perfect conditons the bird refused to play ball and we left empty handed. Never mind, if all went to plan we would have another opportunity. 

We were on the 10.30 flight to Papa Westray. It's fair to say Andy is a reluctant aviator, so he was less than extactic about our means of transport over the Papa, particularly when we found out the flight went via North Ronaldsay and so was 35 minutes and not 10. For me it was a stunning flight over Sanday and calling in on North Ron, so at least one of us enjoyed it! 


Spectacular Sanday


We touched down on Papa Westray on schedule at 11.05, to be met by Andrew Kinghorn who had just left the eider and so was off on an earlier flight. Things were looking positive as we walked the half mile or so up the island to the coast just north of the St Bonniface's Church. No-one else was there, but Andy quickly located the 1st w drake STELLER'S EIDER just offshore, keeping close company with a female Common Eider. Colourful it wasn't, but still a rather lovely and charismatic sea duck - very 'un-eider' like in structure. It stayed mostly about 50m offshore, occasionally diving. After maybe 30 minutes both eiders began to drift south, disappearing round the coast near the church. We searched for a while but had begun to freeze, so decided we'd best figure out how to get off the island as I'd made no arrangements in case we needed to stay.

Steller's mandarin Eider with Common Eider companion, by Sandra Otter
© Peter Stronach. Ugly duckling for now, but destined for beauty. Hope he stays long enough to become a pilgrimage.
The Steller's favoured yet totally unremarkable bay

Happy ugly ducklings, but the chances of spectacular metamorphism appear to be dwindling rapidly. 
 

Tystie. Best dog ever.
It seemed sensible to head to the hostel and shop to figure out our options. There were no ferries and no more flights, so it was looking like a stay. Coincidentally the island warden David Roche was in there, plus Don and Sandra Otter (the original finders). Quite remarkably, Don knew who I was and remembered me from working in the Stamford Arms pub in Altrincham 30 years ago!! Absolutely incredible memory and coincidence. He went on to explain they had been rangers in Dunham Park and used to come in the pub where we'd talk birds; once prompted I remembered, but would never have figured it. All three were incredibly hospitable over tea, and the Otters offered us a way off the island too - there was a school boat back to Westray at 4.30, and a ferry back to Kirkwall in the early evening. Result. We duly went across to Westray, where Don and Sandra (and their brilliant dog Tystie) kindly gave us a lift the 8 miles down the island. On the way we stopped to see the very impressive skull of a Northern Bottlenose Whale on a beach - what an amazing thing that was. We chatted for a while before boarding the 6.00 ferry  to Kirkwall, followed by a curry and another night in the Kirkwall Hotel. A really great day, exactly how twitching should be.




Tuesday 19th November
We had all day today, with the intended plan of getting the ferry off Orkney this evening and heading south towards Inverness. Thoughts had turned back to the Blue Rock Thrush, which frustratingly showed just after we left yesterday and remained on show all day. Surely today it would play ball. Nope. A mere 6 hours spent around the quarry and surrounding area without a sniff, despite it being present until dusk the previous evening. How annoying, but best not let that dampen the trip.

We didn't actually see much, but it was a pleasant day's birding with lots of Long-tailed ducks, Great-northern Divers, Slavonian Grebes and Greenland White-fronted Goose the highlights. Regular scans of Scapa Flow unsurprisingly failed to reveal any Orca (others has seen them the previous week). We had a quick look for waxwings too, but again no joy.  And that was Orkney - a final ferry trip from Stromness to Scrabster on the MV Hamnavoe led us safely back to the mainland and we drove a couple of hours south before beers and bedding down for the night (in luxury, of course).



Wednesday 20th November
Our grand ideas of all day birding quickly dwindled as the last few days caught up on us. We had a look off Nairn for the long staying but very erratic King Eider without success, but did add Pale-bellied Brent Goose and Scaup to the list. After that (and a Costa) we failed to find a Green-winged Teal so headed over to Forres where c110 Waxwings entertained us for an hour or so in the company of Fieldfares and Redwings. Winter is definitely coming.



And that was that. Time to drop Andy at Inverness station and for me to head to work mode. A really enjoyable adventure with Mr C.

The next 3 days I was working exhibitions, but managed to see another group of waxwings (c15) in a tree outside the hotel one morning. On the Friday I was afforded a few hours off so headed off the Grantown where I failed to see Capercaillie (well I did catch a nano-second view), but did at least see Crested Tit. I also failed to locate a snow goose near Inverness airport as the massive goose flock was largely hidden, but it was nice to see the spectacle of Pinkfeet and amongst them three Barnacle Geese and a Pale-bellied Brent Goose before heading back to work. 

Wednesday 13 November 2019

Keeping up with the paranoids 13/11/19

OK I’m one of those paranoids too. We listers all are. Missing a rare bird is bad enough, but missing one that everyone else has seen really sucks. There, I said it. I mean, I love birds, all birds, but twitching and listing is distinctly OCD with kleptomaniac tendencies. That leads to what we refer to as insurance listing - the need to go and see something controversial in case it ultimately turns out to be a genuinely rare bird and accepted by the all powerful BOU. Insurance listing is a far stretch from the adrenaline fuelled frenzy of a proper mega, but it’s an increasingly common phenomenon. We are all sheep - once interest is shown in something potentially rare that may even turn out to have been a tick then, one by one, we all crack. Better to see it, just in case, and particularly if everyone else has. Such events occur more frequently with the advent of cryptic species identified only by DNA and sonograms - forensic birding.

So on to the bird in question. A putative Paddyfield Pipit has been present in Cornwall since late October. Unsurprisingly the ID has taken a while and the bird was naturally first thought to be a Richard’s Pipit. But some features didn’t quite fit, and questions were raised. The call was not typical of Richards and once recordings were made then the ID came back as almost certainly Paddyfield. DNA samples have been taken for analysis, but should simply confirm the identity now. The bird is in advanced moult, which doesn’t help matters either. The main stumbling block though, is that this South Asian species is largely sedentary and any vagrancy almost unrecorded, and certainly nowhere near Western Europe. It simply wasn’t on the radar, the sort of species that no-one ever considered a possibility here. But is it wild, could it be an escapee or even assisted vagrant? And why is it in active moult? Who knows, and of course we never will for sure. It seems a very unlikely vagrant and the moult status is possibly of concern too. This is perhaps the ultimate insurance bird then (so far at least). If accepted as a wild bird it is a truly mega rarity despite its lack of charisma. Personally I think it is unlikely to be accepted, but then I’ve been wrong many times and I am also a sheep.

EDIT mid December - Paddyfield ID confirmed by DNA.

Some two weeks after the true hardcore twitchers had been and gone, I eventually cracked and made the long journey to Sennen with Phil W on 13th November. We arrived at 9am to find a small group of dejected birders who’d not seen the bird. We decided to move to another part of the same huge field where it had been known to frequent and Phil picked it up immediately, right in front of us. Doddle.

Photos were taken, we watched and studied the bird but had nothing to add to the ID debate, and left. Job done, policy taken. Back in the road for 10am, a quick Philps pasties in Hayle and back home for 4.30.

Our timing was fortuitous - it was nearly taken by a cat on the Friday and then not seen again. Seems likely that it is now an ex pipit!



Now hopefully for a certain eider next. Now that's a proper mega.

Tuesday 15 October 2019

Nighthawk. 14th October 2019

I spent the week on Scilly with half an eye (ok more than half) on the lingering and incredibly showy Common Nighthawk near Ballymena in County Antrim. The photos were gripping as the bird performed ludicrously well on it's daytime roosts and around dusk. I very much hoped it would linger, but they rarely do and it didn't initially seem likely. Ah well, this was the 'commonest' North American land bird I have yet to see on this side of the Atlantic, so there would be another sooner or later I told myself as I tried to put it from my mind. News of it's presence initially came to birders attention on Monday 7th, but it later transpired it had probably been present for a couple of weeks before that. Hopes were raised a little, but still.

But it did stay, and was showing yet again as we drove back home from Scilly on Monday 14th. Naturally I had been hatching plans for this eventuality and I went to work on the morning of Tuesday 15th and awaited news. This was slow coming, so I booked a 13:45 Easyjet flight from Liverpool to Belfast for the afternoon and my first visit to Northern Ireland. Mid-morning news of it's continued presence was a relief, although it had simply made a fly through and changed it's roost habits for the first time. Would it ever return? Was that it moving off finally? I was committed now and certainly not going to see it without even trying, yet I boarded the flight with some trepidation. I collected a hire car and set off on the 25 minute drive. I was about halfway there and received news to say it was present again and hawking. My foot became heavier for the last 15 minutes. Please let it linger...

On arrival I donned wellies and strode off into the riverside field where I could see a couple of birders looking at nothing, before realising that the COMMON NIGHTHAWK was in fact hawking quite high in front of me. Instant success. Wow! It performed superbly for the next 5 minutes or so before dropping down into a distant ash tree.

As I walked closer towards the roost tree Phil Woollen messaged me to say he'd just found a male Siberian Rubythroat on Fetlar! Delighted for the Fetlar lads I was supposed to be with, it doesn't get much better than that.




 


Lee Fuller's stunning shot, taken whilst I was there, but by someone who knows what to do with a camera.

And another of Lee's, take in the morning whilst the sun was still out. Splendid beast.

The nighthawk was on view in the ash tree at around 100m. And there is stayed for the next couple of hours so I settled in to wait and caught up with a few birders including John Rayner, one of Cheshire's finest. They had to leave to catch a boat, so from around 5.30 I waited alone and watched. At about 5.45 it suddenly awoke and dropped from it's roost perch, heading straight over my head and towards the river.

I was in the perfect spot, and for the next 30 minutes or so it put on a show I will long remember, constantly hawking and regularly passing low overhead. The views were breathtaking, and exactly how you hope to see a nighthawk. As darkness slowly descended it dropped to feed low over the narrow river, so I re-positioned myself to the banks and the show continued in a different vain is it moved back and forth along the river, frequently passing within a few feet of me. I'd say this was up there with the best of my twitching encounters of all time. An absolutely thrilling bird.

The return flight was relaxed and I arrived home around 11:15. A perfect twitch (and 545 now by the way).

Monday 14 October 2019

Almost old school Scilly (7-14 October 2019)

But not quite.

I was initially booked to go to a Fetlar with Phil W, Jase Atkinson and Mark P this October; a consequence of the terrible fire that destroyed the Fair Isle Bird Observatory earlier in the year. However, events at home left me feeling less enthusiastic about the boot camp birding that is autumn on Shetland. So when Andy Carroll offered a room on St Agnes plans were changed and I prepared for a more gentle (but likely birdless week) on the beautiful isle, in the good company of friends, the regulars and some of the ex Cape May folk.

I barely looked at the forecast in the preceding days, but others did the buzz on social media was endlessly optimistic about the charts. Things were looking good for the south west, in fact very good. Perhaps I'd made a good decision, was a Yank year coming? Early signs were certainly promising with the French Atlantic coast scoring Ovenbird and Blackburnian warbler (both national firsts). Red- eyed vireos appeared in Ireland, then best of all Scilly scored a Yellow-billed Cuckoo. A Baltimore Oriole appeared in Ireland too. 

So we headed off to Cornwall on Sunday 6th October. News of a red-eyed vireo at Porthgwarra was promising, but by the time we arrived it was late and there was predictably no sign. News of a Nighthawk in Northern Ireland was a little sickening (a glaring list omission for me and a great bird), but I put that to one side. The Yanks were certainly coming thick and fast now, it was game on. 

And so it proved to be - everywhere except St Agnes.

It was Karen's first trip to Scilly, and I had waxed lyrical about the beauty of the isles and the typically tropical weather. Frustratingly that wasn't the case this week, and we ended up on the Scillonian rather than the plane. Always a joy, but still the journey was fine and we made it in good time to St Agnes and met up with Andy and Caroline for an opening pint.


There were many good birds on other islands - Black & White Warbler, Rose-breasted Grosbeak, more vireos (and a Blue Rock Thrush). Surely Agnes was next. Well, erm, no. Agnes was painfully birdless. Nothing of any real note was found whilst I was there, or indeed this autumn. So my St Agnes highlights were limited to -

Blue-winged Teal. One on the Big Pool shortly after I arrived. It seemed a good omen, but next day it moved to St. Mary’s so perhaps it was more prophetic! My second of the year (after the Glasgow bird in the summer).

Photo by Loz @beachybirder
 

Subalpine Warbler. A rather drab immature in the Tamarisks at Cove Vean tea rooms on my final evening. Early attempts to turn it into something rarer were quickly thwarted once photos were obtained. Nice to see watch it sharing a hedgerow with a couple of Firecrests, my only ones of the week.

Subalpine Warbler (@magnusphotog)
After that pickings were very slim indeed. No Yellow-browed Warblers, not even a Black Redstart! And definitely no American landbirds.

The weather was pretty grim throughout. Whilst that should have been good for birds (and was elsewhere), for some reason everything missed Aggie. Graham called this his 'nightmare scenario'; great conditions for bringing rare birds, rare birds all around you, but nothing where you are.



So I twice resorted to trips to St Mary’s in an attempt to see some decent birds. Even this was hard going and most eluded me (especially that bloody cuckoo), but in the end I managed to see the Old Town Red-eyed Vireo and nearby juvenile Red-backed Shrike. Both are always great to see, and it's my first UK vireo in a very long time so it could also have been much worse.

As always with Aggie it's a punt, and it's just as much about the company and the holiday as it is about the birds (ish!). Andy and Caroline was excellent company as ever, and there were plenty of positives despite the dearth of avian entertainment.
Red-eyed Vireo. In a good Yank landbird autumn I was glad to see at least one of them!
Juvenile Red-backed Shrike
The journey home was relaxed and thankfully the planes flew. I really do hare that bloody boat.


So a mixed trip, but I'll always be back.

Saturday 28 September 2019

Eastern Yellow Wagtail, Cemlyn, Anglesey

Splits and lumps have dominated the listing scene for a good few years now, with ever more emphasis on test-tube ticking. In early 2018 the BOU announced they could no longer be bothered to play the endless taxonomy shirade alone, and so had adopted the IOC taxonomy and the number of splits grew yet again. That may be good if you're interesting in your listing total (I am!), but less good from a field ID/birding perspective. Just like the Fylde wheatear a few weeks ago, the DNA style of ID is less rewarding, but part of me has grown to enjoy it, or at least some of it. So when news of a possible Eastern Yellow Wagtail on Anglesey came through in the evening of Wednesday 25th September, most people were probably underwhelmed. I was very interested - partly because I am an unapologetic filthy tick whore, but also because it was close to home and I had also missed a couple before (albeit only half-hearted efforts). There are just ten accepted records so far, but that is down to the recently split status and difficulty of confirming the ID fully. Let's face it, it's really not that rare.
Of the many recent splits, at least EYW is a relatively distinctive looking bird and identity can be confirmed via sonogram, so a test tube confirmation isn't required.

News of the birds' continued presence on Thursday 26th led to me, Malc Curtin, Al Orton and Phil Woollen teaming-up for the short drive over to Cemlyn late in the afternoon. There were perhaps 15 others there, although the web chatter highlighted much wider interest; I suspect most were understandably awaiting confirmation by sonogram and Anglesey is a long journey for many. Conditions were quite grim, in a strong wind under a grey sky, and the bird had steadfastly remained in a difficult to view area, but after around an hour the EASTERN YELLOW WAGTAIL decided to help us out and sat on a fencepost for a couple of minutes. Views were decent, but not good enough to see the elongated hind claw and we certainly didn't hear it call. Shame as I'd have liked to have nailed it properly, but you take what you can get. Thankfully others did make the crucial voice recording, enabling sonogram confirmation of the ID within a few days. 544 I think. Job done, and saves me a longer trip to a remote location where these things are more regular. North Wales, and Anglesey in particular, scores yet another great bird.

I didn't manage any photos, so here's a few shameless web poaches:


The above two photos were those initially broadcast on local Whatsapp groups that raised interest. Taken by the finders (Jayne and Lol, but I don't know their surnames - sorry!). This bird is yet another which may have slipped by without the aid of the internet! the monochrome plumage, pale bill base, facial pattern and strikingly long hind-claw all pointed to EYW, but are insufficient to nail the ID fully. 
Mark Rayment's excellent image.
Not much else to see, aside from a Little Owl, a few Curlew and Red-breasted Mergansers. The long staying rosy starling was about but I didn't manage to see it. 

I rather like a twitch when I'm home in time for tea :)


Friday 20 September 2019

AGPs

I have no idea when I last saw an AMERICAN GOLDEN PLOVER, but it's been years. Two have been present at Lunt Meadows, just up the road in South Lancashire, for the last few days, so I made the short trip  over a sunny Friday as it neatly tied in with a work commitment. This was my first visit to the area since we were working on the adjacent ill-fated Lower Alt wind farm some years ago, at which time work on the reserve had just begun. It's since matured into a fantastic wetland, the sort of place I'd love as a patch.

The two AGPs were immediately on view on the Pump House Pool, and very lovely they were too. A couple of Ruff were also present amongst the perhaps 2,000 Lapwing. We were short of time so only stayed half an hour or so, but I'd like to wander around the reserve at a more leisurely pace soon.



Wednesday 11 September 2019

Late to the Oenanthe Party

With the Brown Booby dominating recent birding activity, along with a busy schedule in my new life, I wasn't overly pleased to hear of a presumed 'Eastern' Black-eared Wheatear by Fluke Hall on the southern edge of Morecambe Bay in the Fylde. The bird was found by my old pals Paul Ellis and Paul Slade on 1st September, whilst I was dipping the booby in Cornwall. It is one hell of a find so credit to them, and it is an unusually early date for a rare wheatear. Autumn female wheatear species are notoriously tricky to identify and taxonomy is complicated, so it did seem odd than an ID was offered so quickly.

Eastern and Western Black-eareds are currently treated as conspecific, but recently published research indicates they are different species and has led to an IOC split recommendation. I've seen a single Western, way back in 1993, and several Pieds, but EBEW is a difficult bird to connect with for us northerners; most tend to be one day males in the SW. If it was a confirmed EBEW then it was a useful piece of armchair insurance for listing purposes. However female Pied Wheatears can be inseparable from EBEW, and a large hybrid zone apparently exists too. Sure enough, doubts were raised and the status of the Fylde bird was downgraded to Pied or EBEW, with most people leaning towards the former. Given my time restrictions I left it at that and assumed a definitive ID was not possible in this case, although it continued to gnaw away at me. It was only an hour away, surely worth seeing for insurance purposes, as well as being an interesting bird. Luckily for me the bird lingered, so I finally cracked on Monday 9th September, but amazingly dipped this supposedly nailed-on individual. It was seen again after I left, so must have disappeared further along the seawall. Never mind, it was surely a Pied....

Scroll forward just over 24 hours to late evening on Tuesday 10th. Finder Paul Ellis sent me a simple and clear message - it's an EBEW. It later transpired that the ever impressive Chris Batty had persisted with images and identified a pale spot at the base of mantle feathers that is apparently diagnostic of EBEW, and only visible on a few magnified photos. This level of forensic ID is way beyond my capabilities and hats-off to Chris for even attempting. Whether this is sufficient to persuade the BBRC is to be established, but I would expect so. Seeing the bird became more pressing and so I awaited news the next morning. Traditionally birds which are very rare and identified late almost always disappear as soon as confirmation is broadcast, so I was fully expecting negative news. Thankfully I was wrong, so made a second trip to Fluke Hall late in the day and this time success was immediate. I spent an hour or so with the bird and catching up with Paul Ellis, and very pleasant it all was too.

So, an apparent EASTERN BLACK-EARED WHEATEAR is in the insurance bag, although awaiting official IOC split and also BBRC acceptance.

Update January 2020: IOC has now announced the split, so pending acceptance of identity for this individual EBEW makes the grade and I'm glad I went (twice!). DNA results from this bird have also just been made public, but can only confirm the bird is not a Western BEW (perhaps as expected given genetic similarity with Pied wheatear). Seems like a case of watch this space for wheatears, I doubt this is the end of the splitting and lumping merry go round.