BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER: the longest twitch

This is a bit of a long post - because it's a long story. I'd like to say I acted like an A* lister and was immediately off the mark. But I rarely do when there's an option to pontificate. It's a convoluted tale, but ultimately a good one I think. 

Thursday 13th October 

The day wasn't really going too well. Work calls dominated the morning and stress-levels were once again through the roof. Andy had been similarly struggling. I'm not sure it ever gets any easier to run a business and it felt like I shouldn't really be away as I dealt with one problem after another. The birding was slow on Unst. Andy had left Shetland for a few days, as was always planned, to attend Ken Shaw's 70th in Fife. I had set-off birding, but ended up sat in the car on a lengthy work call, positioned overlooking Uyea Sound where I at least could look for otters whilst talking business. At 13.06, as I chatted to a colleague on Microsoft Teams with my phone fixed to the steering wheel of the rental Skoda, a two-word Whatsapp message popped-up. 

'Blackburnian Scilly'

Then another 'Popplestone', then finally,

'MEGA, Scilly, BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER Bryher at Popplestone fields'.

The first message was enough to stop any coherant thought. This was heart-sinking news; not so much the gravitas of this holy grail rarity (another!), but for the sheer distance. It was impossible to be further away than I sat right now - about 780 miles as the mega flies. This was the nightmare scenario that you dread happening whilst stuck on a far-flung island, and there is nowhere flung further than Unst. But for now I had to concentrate on work.

Male Blackburnian Warbler, Canada spring 2019. One of the world's great birds in my opinion. Of course an autumn one in the UK is never going to look quite this good, but that's never the point. 

The MegaChasers group was, of course, immediately in action and twitchers plans were being made throughout the land whilst I continued to discuss work project details. Every lister worthy of the title had set their sights on Bryher the following day. No doubt the planes, chopper and dreaded Scillonian were delighted at the sudden demand for transport to the Magical Isles. I could imagine the panic on the islands as birders tried to get to Bryher. Concentrate I told myself. 

Scilly has had a long run of uninspiring Octobers, but this one bird had placed Scilly right back on the map. For that I was pleased; I share the sentimental affection with the islands that most birders of my generation feel, not to mention some wonderful family trips when the kids were young. 

The first photos appeared quickly, and it was very much a stunner. Me and many of my peers had long held the belief that you don't mess about when American warblers appear; they are magical birds, and perhaps the ultimate vagrants  to the UK and Ireland. Just go.

This was the fourth Blackburnian  warbler for the UK, but it's relative frequency doesn't tell the tale of it's true rarity. The other three records had also been on islands (Skomer in the '60s, Fair Isle in the late '80's and St Kilda in the early 2000's). A few people staying at the bird observatory, including old friend Matt Wilmott, had seen the Fair Isle bird. But that was it. Blackburnian is one of the best looking American warblers, but had been seen here by almost no-one. It has one with the greatest aura's of all rarities, and now there was one on Scilly. 

But I continued my work call. Admittedly focus had gone, so I ended the call as soon as I could and tried to rationally weigh the situation. As I so often do, I told myself not to do it, that the longest possible UK twitch was just a sea-crossing too far. It is madness. Yet my less than sane inner-self was already calculating the logistics. It was probably too late to get off Shetland today. Or was it? I checked Loganair online. A late flight to Aberdeen was just possible. But my car was in Manchester. There would be no air travel options left for Scilly and it wasn't possible to drive (!) from Aberdeen to Penzance in time for the Scillionian. An immediate evacuation wasn't worth it as there was now no possibility of being on Bryher the next morning. Perhaps I could go off tomorrow (Friday) and be on Scilly for Saturday? I hatched a fledgling plan, but then quickly put it aside as a different Whatsapp group distracted me with more local news...

'Three Orca Burrafirth Unst'

I was immediately mobile. Annoyingly Burrafirth is at the opposite end of Unst to Uyesound, but the roads are good and it was dry, so a heavy foot was in order and I made it to the lighthouse station quickly. The few people present (albeit older grockle-types) told me they'd already exited the Voe, and that they didn't know whether they'd gone east or west. Bollocks. This was exactly the same situation as I was in last year with Andy and Jono. I decided to follow the same approach and head to Westing in the far southwest of the island, then wait it out in the hope that I'd guessed their direction of travel correctly. Fortunately I was  waived down by another birder, who was still watching them distantly towards the mouth of the Voe. Through Andy's scope the views were decent, and they seemed to be moving slowly, close to the foot of the cliffs. After a few minutes they seemed to exit the Voe and head east; I would have guessed wrong and waited in vain at Westing. Brian Minshull arrived and so joined me in the newly Christened OrcaUber headed for Skaw; the next accessible bay along the coast. 

It was a calm, warm (for Shetland) and beautiful day as we parked up by Britain's most northerly residence. A few of us made our way up the south side of the bay to the low cliffs and waited. It was only a few minutes later when the impressively large dorsals appeared. Wow. The pod made their way towards us. I ran a little further along the coast to a better vantage point and it paid-off; the pod cruised past me at maybe 75m range, with one passing right underneath me along the cliffs. Incredible stuff. They moved at pace and so I did the same (for once). Back to the car. Norwick Bay was surely their next port of call, and how could anyone resist more of this?

OrcaUber was off, albeit losing a good few minutes due to Space Station construction traffic. Brian and I arrived at the chapel car park, meeting up with Chris Pendlebury and Alan Curry. We chose to walk to the side of the bay and wait. Within a couple of minutes the Orca pod entered the far end of Norwick Bay and we watched them follow the base of the cliffs in to the bay, before veering south and directly towards us. There's something almost heart-stopping seeing a massive dorsal headed straight at you, even when you're on dry land. I don't envy the local seals.

The pod had already been identified as the '27's'; the most regular of Shetland's visiting Orca and the same animals I'd seen the previous year.

I am in awe of these animals. For years I'd hoped for this kind of up close experience and it wasn't a disappointment - very much a personal bucket list moment. They departed Norwick, again heading south and so the next stop must be Harold's Wick bay. Again we sped ahead and waited, this time by the famous Viking galley. But the show was over; they never appeared and so presumably U-turned, or perhaps made a kill and paused. Dusk was coming, but I went back to the chalet very happy. At least aside from that gnawing feeling that I really should be headed elsewhere....

Back at the digs I cranked up the laptop and made some calls. It was feasible to get the 16.00 flight from Sumburgh to Manchester (via Aberdeen), arriving at 19.30 on Friday and then driving down to Scilly. Al and Mark P were up for it. I decided to be ready to be up early and waiting on news, ready to immediately book chopper flights for the Saturday. So I had a plan, and could set about finishing a work report that had been on my mind. 

Friday 14th October 

After a restless night I was up early and logged on to the various travel websites for Scilly access. Positive bird news was swift in coming (it was still almost dark on Shetland) and so I immediately hit the 'purchase' button for the chopper. Frustratingly I suspect others did too, and my transaction didn't process. Crap. Several attempts later and it was clear that choppers were no longer available. OK Plan B - the Scillonian.  But the website wouldn't accept bookings as a consequence of the poor weather forecast. The plan had already fallen apart - I wasn't going to make it to Scilly on Saturday. And there's no access to Scilly on Sunday's. Game over before it even began. I continued to tell myself I wasn't going. The bird would depart. Probably.

I birded some regular spots across Unst, but despite a glorious afternoon there was nothing new. Others reported the lack of new migrants too. I photographed Bramblings, Twite and Redpolls to occupy myself. Migrants were limited to a few Redwings and the odd Blackcap. 

Saturday 15th October

News again came early; the American star continued to grace Scilly. The Saturday travellers were no doubt in buoyant mood aboard the Scillonian. It was too much to bear and my thoughts begun to focus on a Monday visit. By that time the bird would have had to have stayed 5 days. It felt unrealistic. The reality, though, is that there is little rhyme or reason to the length of stay for American warblers; plenty have stayed a week or more, plenty have been one-day wonders. There is little point over-thinking it. As I have said to myself time and again, you definitely won't see it by not trying. My resolve was gone. I made plans with Malc and Mark P and arranged to take the Sunday afternoon flight off Shetland and join up with them from home overnight Sunday. A Whatsapp message from Stu Butchart made me realise there were others in the Monday club and we could join forces. With positive news on the Saturday morning Stu and I booked a chopper for Monday, which of course was a punt but I really didn't want to end up on the Scillonian given the journey from (and back to) Unst. 

Knowing that Loganair has a helpful free cancellation within 24 hours policy, I held back booking my flights until lunchtime. This was in the hope that news would come out on Sunday morning which would allow me to cancel my flight off Shetland if news was negative (the chopper money was already spent). Thankfully seats remained available at noon and logistics could be finalised. All it needed was positive news tomorrow and I was committed.

More aimless birding ensued, but with such little sign of any migrants it was hard-work. I again photographed the Glossy Ibis at Murrister and watched for cetaceans without success. 

Glossy Ibis. One of two on the island

When news of the Orca in Yell sound I decided to make my way across for more sea-panda action. The 27s had been heading south through Yell Sound and I intercepted them at Ulsta Pier, before relocating to Copister. The Pod remained mid-channel, so no closer than at least a kilometre, powering southwards in a choppy sea. Still they were impressive in the dramatic land and sea scape and I enjoyed this experience too. They followed the coast of the island of Samphrey and headed further away, and I lost them towards Linga. Apparently they entered Colla Firth on Minland and remained around the salmon cages until dusk. I made my way back to the chalet and planned, packed and tried to sleep.

Sunday 16th October

It's only in writing it down that that I realise how protracted the whole experience was.

Positive news from Bryher came surprisingly early for a Sunday. Game on - finally. I was already packed and ready, opting to leave my gear in the chalet and return on Tuesday to spend a few days with Andy. Coincidentally we were both booked on the same return flight to Shetland. 

Unst ferry. The starting point of a journey that would require two inter-island car ferries, two airline flights, a 6 hour drive, a helicopter, a taxi and an inter-island fast boat. 

I departed Unst and again crossed Yell, but arrived at the Ulsta terminal just as the ferry departed so had an hour to wait. This is a regular spot for otters and sure enough a large dog otter was fishing just off the quay. A bit too distant to photograph but close enough to enjoy. It dived and fed for a while before heading to the beach and then disappearing up a burn, so I walked but towards the car, but was distracted by the call of redpolls. Two birds were circling about 10m height, doing repeated loops of the car park. One bird was noticeably large, was stark white and possessed a clear white rump. It's flanks appeared completely unstreaked, in fact it was the epitome of a flying snowball, and so even on the flight views I was confident it was a HORNEMANN'S ARCTIC REDPOLL. Given there were no other reports of HAR's on Yell then I'm having that as a find - BBRC description submitted!

The ferry journey and trip down Mainland Shetland was uneventful and I had plenty of time, so diverted to Scalloway Harbour where the drake KING EIDER showed remarkably well. For the time of year it was quite smart, but still a pale shadow off full glory (I know the feeling). There were a few Common Eiders in the harbour; the first one's I'd seen on this trip. 

Next stop Sumburgh Airport. There were so many things that could wrong in this logistically complicated twitch, and my main worry was the Loganair would cancel a flight (they very regularly do). On arrival the chirpy check-in girl assured me all was on schedule and thankfully all went smoothly. I had time to do some work at the airport before departing Sumburgh on time, then in Aberdeen for under an hour, then back in Manchester a little early at 19.15. By 20.00 I was home for an unexpected cuddle and chill with Karen. At 22.30 Malc and Mark arrived, and we begun the familiar overnight journey down the M6, M5 and A30 to deepest Cornwall. By around 04.00 we were parked up in Penzance and grabbed a couple of hours of much-needed sleep.

Monday 17th October. Scilly at Last.

There was time for a Costa before dropping Malc and Mark at the Scillonian (as they'd been too late to get chopper tickets), before heading to the smart new heliport. This is the first time I've been on the upgraded chopper, and it's a very substantial improvement on the old one. Stu Butchart, Jim Lawrence and a few others appeared and we boarded the shiny new helicopter for the 08.50 flight. Minutes later we cruised over the (still docked) Scillonian and were on Scilly by 09.10. The helicopter ride was tremendous, but of course being listers we all slipped quickly in to silence mode as we wondered the same thing. Was the bird still there today? I remained my usual pessimistic self in this moment (it's a poor attempt to mitigate disappointment), and was already contemplating a blog post titled the longest dip. The prospect of returning to Unst empty-handed filled me with dread and, perhaps more than ever, my stomach wrenched. 

This is how I like to see the Scillonian.

Yet, at the very moment we dismounted the chopper (is that what you do?), the news we'd been hoping for came through. It was still there! Mood immediately lifted, smiles all round. Bags rapidly collected from the airport, taxi down to the quay in another familiar drill. Stu had arranged a rapid boat to Bryher (the Raptor) as we preferred to waste no time, and we were soon across the sound and easing up to Church Quay, Bryher. Disembarking was slightly delayed as a piece of Stu's adapted tripod feel in to the water, but we had to leave it for now given the tide and the somewhat more pressing matter of the bird.

Ten minutes or so later we were in the fields at Popplestone Bay. As it happened, my friends from Cape May and St Agnes had chosen a revisit this morning, and it was rather special to join them. 

It took only a few minutes for my first brief, but full, glimpse of this delightful bird. BLACKBURNIAN WARBLER. It flicked in to view for a few seconds before disappearing, but soon settled to give prolonged and wonderful view in the autumn sunshine. Happily there were no more than 20 of us for the next couple of hours and it spent much of that time giving exceptional views (although at one time it did fly off way across a field and we briefly feared it had gone, but it soon returned). 

Immature make Blackburnian Warbler, Bryher. Not quite as bright as an adult male, but a stunning bird regardless. There's something irresistible about American wood warblers and it doesn't seem to matter how many you've seen on the other side of the Atlantic. Perhaps they are maybe the ultimate vagrants to Europe. Blackburnian also happens to be a real looker with added mythology - optimal appeal. I'm unapologetic about posting loads of photos. Phoarr. 

What a bird!!!   

OML etc., although that doesn't really befit the occasion. This is my 15th species of American wood warbler in the UK and Ireland, and my 44th species of American landbird. I think that makes me officially quite old.

Back to the moment and the longest twitch possible in the UK had been a success. Massive relief, but far more than that it was a joyous occasion. It was a beautiful, calm and sunny Scilly day, and I got to share this wonderous bird with very good friends from Cape May and St Agnes. And I have to admit the glorious weather and beautiful location was a stark contrast with Unst - very much a reminder of what makes this place so special. It was a perfect reunion of place, people and bird. What could be better?

The bird of course was exquisite and wonderfully showy to the small group present. It flicked from hedge to hedge, often showing to just a few meters and at head height. The bright sunshine made it shine. I've seen many of these in North America of course, including spring males, but this one - somehow - exceeded them all. I stayed for 2.5 hours, until the arrival of those on the Scillonian (including Malc and Mark, who I barely saw all day). The arrival of the excellent Beachy Birder on a rare twitch added to the sense of reunion. As the crowd grew the bird became a little more elusive and it was time to withdraw, delighted, to the pub. A pint (or two) in the Fraggle Rock Inn was in order. 

But first I returned to Church quay with Stu and, with the tide now lower, could see the dropped scope mount. There was no-one else around so it was an easy decision to strip off and wader out. Glad it happened on Bryher and not on Unst though, I may not have been so willing.

Two pints later we wandered to the famous Aneka Rice quay and joined a throng of happy birders in the sunshine. I returned to St Mary's on the regular boat and took a cab up to the Airport. Cake and coffee time before the pleasant flight back to the Mainland. My previous two twitches to Scilly had ended in failure (Indigo Bunting and the now rectified Egyptian Vulture), so it was particularly satisfying to be headed off the islands warmed by success. 

Back in Cornwall (I really love the chopper, definitely the way to travel), I had a couple of hours to kill whilst waiting for Malc and Mark to arrive on the Scillonian. It seemed rude not to go and take a look at the two Lesser Yellowlegs on the nearby Hayle Estuary. Always lovely birds to enjoy however many you see and these two didn't disappoint, with one of them accompanying a Greenshank in the now fading light.

Lesser Yellowlegs, Hayle. 

Back on the Penzance quayside, we were joined by old Cape May'er and bird-finder extraordinaire Graham Gordon who was on his way home to Somerset, so we dropped him on the way. 

Tuesday 18th October

I arrived home at around 2am (after some annoying road closures), showered, slept for a little while, then headed back in Manchester Airport for 7.30am (18th October) and the return leg flights. Again all went to plan, and I met up with Andy in Aberdeen. Shortly after we collected cars at the airport and were on our way for the final leg. After a quick call in to Tesco's for supplies we were back in our temporary Unst home by early evening. Time for a beer, all had gone well.

Now it was hopefully time for some actual birding, just as the wind switches to the east....