Red-footed Booby. Scilly, 20th August 2023

Red-footed Booby, Bishop's Rock Lighthouse. Photo by Simon King.

Red-footed Booby atop the Bishop Rock Lighthouse. Photo by the excellent Tony Davison.

This one will live long in the memory. Not for the bird, but for the madcap adventure and fabulous supporting cast.

But before regaling our jubilant tale, there is a sombre side to this birds' appearance in UK waters. Not specifically this individual bird or species, but the rapidly increasing numbers of warm water seabirds here. Twenty years ago the idea of tropical seabirds in the UK was largely fanciful, now it's an annual event. Times are changing rapidly and it's more than a little alarming to think where we're headed. Of course there's a double-standard to caring about climate change and continuing to twitch. It's equally true to say that climate change isn't going to be slowed by the voluntary actions of individuals. We need tough action, but we get soft words and pointless suggestions of personal responsibility.

There are six species of booby, all of which are predominantly found in equatorial waters. Three of these reside in the Atlantic ocean; Brown, Masked and Red-footed.

Britain's first record of a Brown Booby was as recent as 2019. Remarkably an adult bird was found in Cornwall and twitched by a few before disappearing, only for second bird (an immature) to be found nearby and seen by many, including me. Since then Brown Booby's have been seen and claimed annually, and one was photographed in Scotland this week. Another twitchable one will happen soon. 

Red-footed Booby first occurred in September 2016, when one was picked up on a Sussex beach and taken in to care. To the best of my knowledge it dies in care, as rescued seabirds so often do. Until now there hadn't been another. Masked Booby is largely a Caribbean species, but the appearance of one in the UK wouldn't come as an enormous surprise. 

So back to our bird.  

It was first seen off a Scilly pelagic on Monday 7th August as it flashed by those fortunate enough to be aboard the Sapphire. It must have been a special moment. I was still in Sri Lanka at the time and pelagic seabirds aren't generally twitchable, so from a personal perspective it was little more than an interesting side note. As I do every year though, I considered more time on pelagic boats. Not just for the very slim chance of a major rarity, the general seabirding always looks so good too. Unlike our closely related gannets, booby species tend to roost on land. So there was always the slim chance this bird would be re-found on Scilly, but hats-off to Joe Pender and the Sapphire team for keeping an eye out on likely spots over the subsequent days. They'd checked the Bishop Rock lighthouse several times over a period of days, so it must have been a genuine shock when the booby was perched on top of the lighthouse in the evening of Monday 14th August, a full week after their initial sighting.

Any twitch to Scilly requires gargantuan effort. This one needed even more.

I was by this time back from holiday, but in the thick of catching up and (yet more) meetings. The idea of twitching a remote lighthouse seemed fanciful, so initially I dismissed the thought. Surely no one was considering it? Others are clearly more tenacious and I'll admit to being quite shocked to see travel plans emerging on Mega Chasers. Fair play. And madness. But it worked. The fastest people were at Bishops Rock by 10am the next day and, remarkably, the bird was still there. Others followed over the subsequent days and consistently connected. The bird seemed to be reliably present, and there has been speculation about the bird feeding at night on squid (as they are known to do). I made plans to join a direct return charter from Penzance on Thursday 17th, but had to pull out at the last minute. They connected and I regretted, but it was my call to bail so no-one to blame. 

Aside from the logistics of getting there, twitching a lighthouse is somewhat dependent on favourable weather. A storm was coming on Friday afternoon, so that effectively ruled-out safe passage to Bishop Rock on Friday afternoon and probably Saturday. A Friday morning attempt by some birders became the first dip. Saturday trips were soon cancelled due to high swell. The odds against felt like they were starting to stack-up. 

Most of the year there is almost no way of getting to Scilly on a Sunday. But in the summer there are Sunday sailings of the infamous Scillonian, making a day trip possible. A small group of us bought day return tickets on Thursday, but were far from set on actually travelling and were hoping for Saturday news. The swell had prevented that from happening. 

Malc, Phil W, Paul Baker and Phil Locker had bought tickets and teamed up. We messaged constantly through Saturday. Should we take a punt? It's fair to say the group was split and plenty of reasons not to travel were expressed. But then there is FOMO too. I opted to go anyway, on the basis that we should see plenty of seabirds and we definitely wouldn't see the booby at home (yes I know there's a pun in that).  Malc and Phil L were of the same view. Who dares wins. Paul and Phil W soon opted to come along too, and we set off at 10.30pm for the long haul to Penzance.

As we parked up on the quayside (no cafes on a Sunday) it quickly became apparent that quite a few birders had opted to take the punt too. In the end there were 130 birders. We all boarded early so as to take a position up top where there was seabirding to be had. The Scillonian was to depart at 09.15. It was a sociable but nervous atmosphere for the gathered masses, and I enjoyed seeing people I rarely have time to chat to. At just after 9am we heard from the Scilly pelagic (on the Sapphire) - the booby was still present. A loud cheer went up as news was spread. It must have seemed very odd to the non-birders on board.

The Scillonian set sail on cue and everyone settled in for seabirding. To my surprise Graham Gordon was also on board, and I joined him in a great spot on the starboard side where the sun would be behind us. It turned out to be an excellent crossing, with light enough seas and lovely weather. Aside from the many Manx Shearwaters, there were probably 40-50 Cory's Shearwaters and about 5 Great Shearwaters. The Cory's in particular showed incredibly well; I don't think I've had these views since the nineties in the US. I snapped away, partially motivated by the slim chance of papping a Scopoli's Shearwater, but mostly I was just enjoying the event. There were several pods of Common Dolphins and a few Harbour Porpoise too. The highlight was a tight flock of 6 adult Sabine's Gulls which powered through in front of us. 

Cory's Shearwater. Very much the bird of the day and a joy to see so well.

Six adult Sabine's Gulls powering south, on their way from Arctic Canada to the mid Atlantic for the winter. Phoarrr.

The Scillonian rounded the island and slipped in to Hugh Town harbour on time, with Bishop's Rock lighthouse tantalisingly visible now. Birders jostled for position to disembark, keen to get on to the pre-arranged island charters out to the lighthouse. All went well, and our team naturally managed to get on to the first and marginally quicker 'Seahorse'. We were soon off and steaming towards the lighthouse, but in an increasing swell as we left the shelter of the main islands. It was to take about fifty minutes to get there, but at a couple of miles range technology calmed nerves. Shots of the lighthouse initially showed there were multiple birds atop - blobs at this point and presumably mostly gulls. A little closer and more shots were taken. One blob soon looked different enough to suggest it was the booby. The boat eased closer and each round of shots improved the image. Soon they showed what could only be the target. We were so close to success now.

Bishop's Rock Lighthouse. An incredible piece of Victorian engineering that was completed in 1858. It is apparently the smallest island in the world wit a building on it. Incredible.

Minutes later we pulled alongside the famous Bishop Rock, the extreme westerly point of the UK - next stop USA. This is the starting line for races across the Atlantic, and sits on the very edge of northern Europe. How many people have ever even been here? The boat surged and rolled in the swell left-over from Friday's storm, but the boatmen did a fine job of manoeuvring position throughout our stay. 

The sub-adult RED-FOOTED BOOBY remained on netting towards the top of the lighthouse, decidedly unimpressed by the furore below. Despite the odds at the start of the week, we had done it. Joyous relief, even if the bird itself was the epitome of underwhelm. The booby looked healthy enough, actively preening, defecating and wing-flapping, so let's hope it's protracted stay is through choice not ill health as some have suggested. The second boat (the Kingfisher) pulled along and it's passengers celebrated too. It was a celebratory atmosphere. Twitching a lighthouse in the hope a seabird lingers is, after all, a completely ridiculous idea.

Another of Tony Davison's shots

Bob Dawson's photo.

Phil's happy.

After an hour or so we'd all filled our boots and fired endless hopeful shots in the general direction of the bird. It was time to move on. The early news as we sat in Penzance had come from the Sapphire, which was on an all day pelagic today. Not long before our arrival in Penzance, Cliff Smith had messaged the group to say that they were watching a Scopoli's Shearwater from the Sapphire, 8km SW of Bishop Rock. Knowing that they had chum bags, and that they had to come back in our direction, I had cheekily texted Cliff and asked if there was any chance they could coincide with us in the unlikely hope good birds would follow. Happily they agreed, and our skipper had also agreed to venture out a few kilometers in to the deeper water. The Sapphire soon passed close by, tooting and full of happy birders, and we set off along their chum line. Quickly there were groups of Cory's Shearwaters, with perhaps 100 or so in groups of up to 30. The views were sublime, and we all scoured for birds showing any trace of a Scopoli. Alas there were no clear birds found, nor were any strong candidates identified from photographs later. Aside from the Cory's I saw only a handful of Storm Petrels out here, but it was great fun to be birding on the waves and searching for something rare. Three ocean sunfish also put in an appearance and others saw and photographed a brief Wilson's Petrel, but that didn't dampen our mood in the slightest.

                             

Another hour or so later we turned back towards St Mary's and docked alongside the Scillonian. Just time to grab a lamb and mint pasty from the quayside shop before walking up the gangway to embark once again. The Scillonian sailed at 4.15 and once again we positioned ourselves, this time on the Port side. The show continued, with almost constant Cory's action and the occasional Great. More common dolphins bow-rode and a Minke Whale appeared by the boat at one point. As we neared Land's End there was a pulse of Great Shearwaters and a single Sooty Shearwater. We then encountered the evening line of Manxies, piling westward back towards island breeding grounds on Skomer and Lundy. This is the point that several Fea's have been seen, and we searched hard but without success. No matter, it had been another brilliant crossing. 

Great Shearwater

We were back in the car around 7.15, having spent around 10 hours on boats and constantly searching for birds. The journey home was a long one - all those hours at sea took their toll, but it was a happy band of birders travelling. We took turns on the drive and I was finally home at 01.15.

Now that was a twitch to remember.

OML. 569 (for now).

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