BLACK-WINGED KITE! 22nd July 2023

I’d like to think that I’m fairly quick off the mark for major rarities. But not really anymore. Whilst it may sometimes still be true, the realities of work and family mean it’s not always possible to drop everything. I’m ok with that (honest), and if I miss the odd bird then so be it, Nobody sees them all, well almost nobody.

In April, Britains first but long anticipated Black-winged Kite was photographed in Powys. This time I had gone straightaway, but the bird had already moved on. No one was particularly upset given the high likelihood of another soon, but I think we were all surprised with one coming so quickly as this bird did. Who knows, perhaps it’s the Welsh bird. 

On Monday 17th July, news came out late evening of one at Horsey on the Norfolk Broads. It had been seen by a casual but reliable birder who was sure of what he’d seen. Unfortunately I’d come home from work with a stinking cold earlier in the day and so was in bed asleep as news broke. I woke at 2.30am to see my phone stacked with messages, but I was still unwell and had critical meetings on Tuesday anyway. And on Wednesday too. It was a bad week all round. Those able to move connected early on Tuesday morning, but the bird soon disappeared as raptors so often do. An hour or two later it was seen about 10 miles away, and that seemed to be that.  It didn’t return to its roost in the Broads that evening, to the disappointment of the few gathered birders.

Yet on Wednesday morning it was at Horsey again and seen intermittently in the day. It must have  returned the previous evening, but unseen in this vast and largely inaccesible area. For those who were free to go, Wednesday evening was a good shout, and as hoped the bird showed again as it headed to roost. Some made it, many didn’t, but it was roosting again. A Thursday am raid mobilised many, but I was still tied-up (not only with meetings but the long-planned Avian Ecology social; I could hardly ditch the team!). There was a general assumption that it could return to Horsey on Thursday, so when news came through that it was showing I barely glanced (mid-pizza), and hoped for a weekend lingerer. I completely failed to register that it had been refound at a different roost site in Felixstowe, some 50 miles south of Horsey. When I did finally notice my heart sank, it really was on the move. This could be the last chance given the low odds of being refound miles away. But I was already out, several beers in and had commitments the next morning anyway. Sure enough Friday at dawn it showed well to those gathered - again until around 9.30 when it drifted north. Game over, or take a punt and head east?

I was finally free to go on Friday afternoon, but given the lack of news, huge areas involved and (being most honest) a grim hangover I decided against the 4.5 hour speculative drive. The hangover intensified in the afternoon so I went to bed and slept for a few hours before chilling for the evening. There would be another, no need to fret, I told myself repeatedly...

But at 10pm, an image of the kite was posted by a photographer. It was reportedly taken in Essex a couple of hours earlier, but the location wasn’t divulged and there was a little cynicism. Thanks to some top sleuthing by Sam at Birdguides, it quickly became apparent this wasn’t a hoax. When asked the togger wouldn’t divulge the actual location though, and said it had flown off anyway. More sleuthing revealed the toggers’ Facebook page showed he generally took photos of raptors along the coast near Colne Point.

The 10pm cryptic Facebook post.

Was this enough to go on? I thought so (perhaps compounded by my upcoming holiday and limited available twitching time). Surely it couldn’t have gone far at that time of day. It was worth a punt and I decided to go overnight. Unsurprisingly others declined due to the vagueness, or were unable to go so late. Nevermind, I’m happy enough solo twitching thesedays. I was on the road just after 11pm, and aside from some road closures along the A14 it was an easy enough journey. That earlier afternoon nap had been a massive blessing. I pulled-up near St Osyth at 3.30am and attempted some sleep in the car, without success. I napped as best I could and waited. By 4.45am I could see well enough. It was cloudy with a cool breeze as I surveyed the emerging landscape. Like the rest of East Anglia, the coast is low lying and mostly arable farmland, protected by a sea wall. There were no easy or obvious routes to the lower coastal area, but I could see there was an abundance of good looking habitat for raptors down there. It was the logical place to look. I was prepared to stick it out for the weekend and told my self to stay focussed on the search; it may be a needle in a haystack but I wanted to give it a good go, and anyway the bird couldn’t be that far away (yet) given it was photographed in the evening. This had to be the area.

I chose to drive round the corner to a modest vantage point. It was barely light, but Marsh Harriers quartered and Kestrels hovered over the distant coastal ground. The view was restricted here and the road ahead adorned with private signs as it passed through a complex of houses and a farm. But it was very early and maps showed some form of a road to the best looking area, so I went anyway, taking care not to disturb residents and hoping there are no dogs. At one point, after passing most of the houses,  I stopped and put my scope up to scan a decent looking area but it was still largely out of view. 

As I did a car pulled up alongside me. I was expecting to be chastised for my presence, but the driver asked what I was looking for so I told him about the kite. He said he’d not heard of that, then said he had heard something but didn’t know where. I then realised he had a large camera set up on the drivers seat. He had to be the vey same togger, but he was quickly off and evidently being evasive. 

So I continued along the lane, through a farmyard (again adorned with private signs), past a couple of large houses and finally to open ground. The area large ahead looked good, and as I reached the end of a hedgerow the view opened up.

And there - immediately in the first field - was a hovering BLACK WINGED KITE. Holy crap. It was 5.25am. Immediate success. I’ll admit to a massive rush and punching the air. I immediately put news out on the WhatsApp groups and settled to watch it do it’s thing. You rarely get a chance to enjoy such a rare bird alone.

My initial 'proof of life' handheld digi-bin shot - evidence!

It continued to hunt a small area and seemed settled. Of course I’d left my camera in the car as this was  supposed to be just an initial walk, so after a couple of terrible (but vital) handheld digi-scoped shots I marched back to the car and drove back to the area on the hope it would remain. I parked further along the lane where my togger friend was now set up to photograph it (so much for it flying off last night). At this point he admitted it was him that had seen it the night before, but he thought the area was sensitive. Complete bollocks given we were stood on a tarmac road which can be reached by public footpath. He then asked me not to put out the location, but I already had so just played along for a while in the knowledge others would soon start to arrive. He even tried not to show it to the first arrival, a local birder who’d picked up on my WhatsApp news, despite it being sat there right in front of us as he spoke.

The bird sat nonchalantly on a nearby bush for an age, proving wonderful views. An exquisite bird, although a bit too far for me to do justice with the camera.

My phone-scope shots doing a fine injustice

Perhaps 30 minutes later a couple more cars arrived and anxious faces turned to smiles. Aside from our togger pal that is, who appeared furious and soon stormed off (after offering a mouthful to the new arrivals). He'd said he was concerned as the lane was private, but it was clear he just wanted the bird to himself. Numbers of birders begun to build, but the bird continued to perform and there were no difficulties with access or viewing. Non-birder locals were friendly and helpful, no-one was upset at our presence.  

I lingered all morning, enjoying prolonged views and being social with old friends. I was in no hurry, for once. 

As the morning progressed the kite began to range over  a wider area. It started to warm up around 9am and at around 9.20am it drifted east along the sea wall and I lost it behind trees. Time to leave for me, but some of those who'd waited on news sadly got there too late. 

I meandered home in buoyant mood and slept very well.

What. A. Twitch. What. A. Bird. There's no skill in twitching, but seeing a bird like this and having a gamble pay off had been a massive rush.

Above and below by Sean Nixon. Stunning.

That's me on 568, but seems crass to talk about numbers for this bird, and we're about to lose a few anyway I hear.