Return to Yorkshire 27/08/2021

The now famous BLACK-BROWED ALBATROSS had continued, intermittently, at Bempton all summer and I'd been hoping to find the opportunity to return and soak-up close flight views. Motivated in part by a rare plover at Blacktoft and a scattering of scarcities on the east coast, today was the day.

An early start had me at Bempton by 6am, with a cold north wind blowing. The bird had been seen briefly in flight but landed out of sight. So I headed straight to the Staple Newk platform, this being the area it tended to favour and show well in. After an hour or so there was still no sign, but the Gannets entertained. Peregrines appeared twice, with a male seen to gently pluck a pigeon from a flying flock and carry it off. The auks were all gone for the season, and just a handful if juvenile Kittiwakes and a few Fulmars added variety. Around 7.15 other birders had wandered further along and picked up the albatross sat on the cliff, albeit at a distance. Whilst nice to see it, these views were no better (worse) than my previous visit. It was sat very close to Staple Newk, but obscured from there. I returned to the platform and settled in with a couple of other birders in the cold wind. Then at around 9.20 the wonderful beast appeared right in front of us. For the next 50 minutes it showed, making repeated flights around the cliffs and offering up the sort of spectacular views I'd hoped for. A really wonderful experience. There's something mythical about albatrosses, and this bird lives up to expectations. 

 

It was time for a welcome coffee at the RSPB café with old friend Judd Hutt. Tree Sparrows entertained whilst we chatted and Peregrines again appeared overhead, before setting off. I have a feeling I'll be back for more.

I left late morning and set-off south, arriving at another RSPB reserve around 12.45. The reserve was fairly busy due to the presence of a first-class rarity. The WHITE TAILED PLOVER (ok Lapwing) showed immediately from Marshland Hide, and very nice it was too. This is a lovely species and was once an ultimate rarity. There are only 6 accepted records, and there were none between 1984 and 2007, when a June bird at Caerlaverock in D&G had us all scrambling. Another in 2010 toured the UK, and I managed to see it at point-blank range at Seaforth Docks in Liverpool in May; that was a truly stunning individual in pristine condition. This current bird was, in truth, a little more worn and less impressive, as would be expected by late August. It's presumably the same birds recently present in Denmark. The views were, however, excellent despite the crammed hide.

Blacktoft is a lovely reserve, and there were birds aplenty; smart juvenile Ruffs, Snipe, Black-tailed Godwits, Green Sandpipers and Dunlin, plentiful wildfowl in eclipse plumage and a few Little Egrets. A fly-past Bittern was another bonus.  As far as I can recall, my last visit here was for Britain's first Red-necked Stint in 1986!!

All in all a good day.

Patch Egret

 A quick evening visit to the patch. 

 

Local Dowitcher 03/08/2021

A quick evening visit to see the adult summer Long-billed Dowitcher at Frodsham. It had been at Burton Mere Wetlands the previous week but I hadn't managed to get down. Always nice to see an American wader and in breeding plumage, but views were predictably distant on Frodhsam Number 6 tank.

The tank thronged with birds; a couple of thousand Black-tailed Godwits, around 500 Redshank, an Avocet, about a dozen Ruff and a couple of hundred Dunlin were present.

Lon-billed Dowitcher. Photo taken the previous week at BMW (@Mark Woodhead)

Tern-Central Strikes Again. Cemlyn Bay, Anglesey, 8th July 2021

I can't remember when I first went to Cemlyn Bay on Anglesey. I suspect it was a Haloe Ornithologists Club trip in the mid eighties. I certainly first twitched a bird there in 1988. Since then I've visited many times. It's a beautiful, magical place. Sitting on the shingle beach by the lagoon watching terns zoom overhead carrying food to their youngsters on the two islands is a joyful experience. 

Perhaps more than any other tern colony in the UK, the Cemlyn tern colony seems to attract rarer species. My first (and only UK) Bridled Tern was here in 1988, then in 2005 Sooty Tern (although that was first seen on the nearby Skerries) and a putative Cabot's Tern in 2006. In wider Anglesey I've also seen Forster's Tern and American Royal Tern, and in neighbouring Gwynnedd another Royal Tern sp (possibly an African Crested and my 500th UK species in 2009). Then there was the Elegant Tern, with the UK's first record at Porthmadog in 2002 (although I'd also dipped in in Devon earlier in the year). There's nowhere like North Wales for rare terns, and Cemlyn is the epicentre.

These-days Cemlyn also forms part of old friend Mark Sutton's patch. Mark has worked the area hard recently and turned in to something of  a rarity finder there and elsewhere. Fair play to him for putting the effort in. Mark struck gold (or orange) again on Sunday 4th July with an 'orange-billed tern' in the Sandwich Tern colony. 

It was rapidly identified as an Elegant Tern. Only the fifth UK record but nowadays the most expected of the various orange-billed species, which is truly remarkable for a species with a normal range of the eastern Pacific Ocean; the nearest breeding birds should be in California. Early European records of this species were considered so unlikely that it eventually took DNA sampling to prove the birds were indeed Elegant Terns and not some form of hybrid. It was only possible to collect DNA as a pair settled to breed in eastern Spain in 2009. Since then there have been one or two pairs breeding annually, no increasing the number of birds in Europe gradually, and this year a pair has also settled on the Atlantic coast of France and is currently raising two young. A third adult was reported with the French pair recently and it is perhaps this bird that has moved to Anglesey. How this modest colonisation has happened is hard to fathom, the species remains rare on the eastern seaboard of the USA let alone crossing the Atlantic. 

Elegant tern normal distribution. How on earth have they colonised Europe?!

It was Thursday 8th July before I was free to make the familiar journey to Anglesey, joined by Mark Payne. It was a glorious sunny evening as we parked up, then waked the short distance down the shingle ridge to join the one other birder present. All the terns here spend long periods out at sea fishing, so there's always the possibility of a long-wait. This time we were fortunate thought, the splendid ELEGANT TERN was immediately on view and remained so for most of the next couple of hours, usually sat on top of a wooden tern nesting box. It spent most of it's time vigorously displaying with a Sandwich Tern, so presumably they are pairing up. It seems too late for a breeding attempt this year, but there's a distinct possibility it will return next year and the UK's first nesting attempt (albeit a mixed pair) could be on the cards.

There's plenty of other interest at Cemlyn, watching the comings and goings of Arctic Terns and Common Terns as well as the Sandwich's provided entertainment and an opportunity to rattle of endless flight shots. A single adult Roseate Tern was eventually found, but mostly stayed hidden; my first of this beautiful species for several years. There were numerous fledglings around, and both they and their accompanying adults could be remarkably tame. Offshore at least 3 Black Guillemots were in the bay, and Little Egrets fed on the lagoon. A lovely evening out. 

ALBATROSS!!!! Bempton Cliffs, Yorkshire, 5th July 2021

There are few birds that inspire birders as much as albatrosses. They are the majestic giants of the harsh southern oceans, very long-lived and somehow wise, almost mythical beasts. Very few are seen in the northern hemisphere and a trip to New Zealand to see some of these behemoths is high on my to do list. One day.

We do, however, get one species in the UK from time to time. Like any rare seabird, many records are flypasts for a diligent seawatcher. But unlike other rare seabirds, there have been a handful of individuals that have lingered in gannet colonies in the UK, no doubt hoping to attract a mate and returning annually to the wrong end of their oceanic world. Most famously, 'Albert' spent most summers from 1972 to 1995 on the cliffs of Hermaness, Unst (Shetland). Before that a bird, or perhaps Albert, spent a few summers in the late 60s on the Bass Rock in Lothian. More recently, one spent two summers on the extremely remote island of Sula Sgeir in the mid noughties. These had been successfully twitched in their time, and I had made the pilgrimage to see Albert on Unst way back in March 1991. I'd not seen an albatross since.

In 2014 a bird appeared in Germany and became regular on the island of Sylt (nowhere near a seabird colony - it chose to hang out with mute swans there instead), but periodically appeared in Scandinavia and then put in a few brief appearances in the UK - at Minsmere (Suffolk) and slowly became annual at the Bempton (Yorkshire) seabird city. However despite it's annual visits it never lingered.

In 2020 it finally stayed a couple of days at Bempton, but other commitments stopped me from making the trip. I was truly gripped by the photos and vowed to make haste if it did the same in 2021. But in spring (around April) it was reported in Denmark being chased and attacked by up to nine white-tailed eagles. That must have been some sight; it was lost to view but the observers unsurprisingly thought it had probably perished. It seemed to be game over for this particular bird and to my aspirations to see another UK albatross.

Then, almost exactly a year after last years visit (28th June), it reappeared back at Bempton. Albert (they are always Albert) was resurrected! Some birds are made of stern stuff. 

But unfortunately I again couldn't travel; missing my own 50th celebrations would be more than a little selfish so I put Albert out of my mind and enjoyed a really lovely birthday. He stayed two days again and disappeared once more. Ah well, there was hope for 2022 at least. The photos we're once again absolutely stunning and I was definitely a little miffed at his timing again.

Thankfully the new Albert had other ideas, and reappeared a few days later before finally settling in to a semi-regular pattern. Luck was needed, but if you timed it right he was there for the taking and looking set to become a more regular fixture on the Yorkshire coast. 

News that he was on the cliffs late in the evening on Sunday 4th July had me shifting work arrangements around. I couldn't miss this opportunity, work would have to wait again.

An early-ish morning start saw me arrive at Bempton at 7.30 and by 7.45 I was positioned at the New Roll-up viewpoint looking east. A few others were already there and had recently seen the bird soaring  further to the east. Within minutes it appeared, briefly flying out before heading back in to an unseen bay. Finally, BLACK-BROWED ALBATROSS.  Phew. The pattern was repeated before he finally came our way and soared over the cliffs, trying repeatedly but unsuccessfully to land amongst the gannet throng. This pattern was repeated all morning and the views were excellent (if not as close as some had enjoyed). What a glorious bird to watch. Breathtaking stuff.. The photos below are all shamelessly 'borrowed' from more accomplished photographers (mostly Graham Catley) than I will ever be.

The cliffs of course teamed with Gannets, Guillemots, Razorbills, Puffins, Kittiwakes and Fulmars, but if I'm honest I paid them little notice today. Above the cliffs the farmland is managed by RSPB for birds and teemed with Tree Sparrows and Corn Buntings sang in the background. I had to drag myself away to get back to work. Hopefully I'll meet Albert again soon, he's worth the return.

Shetland, 20th to 25th June 2021

After several failed attempts at a summer trip to Shetland, it was with much anticipation that Malc, Phil and I headed to Glasgow airport for the evening flight to Sumburgh. The prospect of Orca and breeding waders and seabirds was an exciting one, the UK's own Arctic north.  

The trip was smooth enough, well aside from Malc leaving his photo ID at home and news of a Short-toed Eagle on one of our survey sites, and we were met by a newly newly bespectacled Andy Carroll at the airport and went to the Sumburgh Hotel for dinner after pausing in the car park to watch Arctic Terns and Twite on a sunny evening, chatting to a full suite of clan Pointon. After dinner we headed to our digs at the Sumburgh Lighthouse, a spectacular location. Seabirds abounded, with masses of Puffins naturally the stars.

The ever-endearing Atlantic Puffin. Can you ever get bored of them?

We were up and out early on the first day; I spent an hour or so from 4am enjoying the seabird spectacle around our digs before breakfast. As well as the auks, Kittiwakes called and Fulmars soared. Bonxies patrolled both colour phases of Arctic Skua soared. On land there were sinking Shetland Wrens and Starlings amongst the lighthouse buildings.

We soon headed north to Loch Clumlie. Strangely we found neither of the target birds here, but still enjoyed the breeding Red-throated divers and bathing Arctic Terns.  It was bright but a cold north wind made it hard going, and after an hour or so headed north again, stopping at South Nesting Bay where we failed to see the elusive White-billed Diver in a short stop. Our destination was Unst. By the time the we had arrived the wind had eased slightly, so we set off in search of the recently reported female Snowy Owl but again no avail, same with the nearby Rose-coloured Starling. One of those days so far, but still enjoyable to see so many breeding waders and soak up being on these spectacular islands. Our luck slowly started to change - the famous pure albino Great-northern Diver showed (at great distance sadly) and we heard singing Marsh Warblers at Kirk. Opting to search again for the owl, three of us chose to walk the ridge of Muckle Heogh, meeting Andy back at the far end. The owl appeared to have left the area, but the walk was really enjoyable, with breeding Whimbrels, Dunlin, Golden Plover, Ringed Plover and a couple of stunning Arctic Skuas for company.

Whimbrel. A regular spring passage species back home, but it's always interesting to see a different aspect of a familiar species' lifecycle - the first I've ever seen on breeding grounds.

Dunlin. I was surprised to hear that they are locally known as 'plover's apostles' as they apparently associate strongly with breeding Golden Plover. Every day is a learning day.

We retraced our steps and our target failures as we made the long journey south (via the famed chippy in Brae). Beers and sleep.

Day 2. Still too bloody windy. Back to Clumlie where we immediately saw Red-necked Phalaropes and up to five of these charismatic birds showed really well. After an hour or so the summering adult Long-tailed Skua finally appeared, making a couple of close fly-pasts before settling, but frustratingly in the distance. An absolute corker of a bird though. We didn’t have time to linger as we were due in Lerwick for the Shetland Seabird Tours Noss boat, run by friends Phil Harris and Becca Nason. The trip was far better than I’d anticipated, in fact one of the highlights of tour time on Shetland. Viewing the seabird city from a boat puts a wonderfully different perspective on the experience, and the Bonxies taking mackerel from Phil's hand were entertaining. But the Gannets were the stars - using a tube to drop mackerel underwater drives the birds to plunge dive all around, even splashing us as they went in. Awesome!

Female Red-necked Phalarope. Tiny Arctic waders that spend the winter in the Pacific Ocean off the Galapogos. That's an astounding journey of at least 10,000km for a sparrow-sized bird. Unusually, females are brighter than males as the species is polyandrous, i.e. the female mates with multiple mates and lays eggs but does not assist in the raising of the young.

Long-tailed Skua; a species which nests only in the high Arctic and not in the UK. This is the only UK summering bird, now in it's third season in the Clumlie area (both photos by Hugh Harrop). 

After the boat we decided to give the resident  Snowy Owl of Ronas Hill a go. This is a wild part of Mainland, and the drive up became increasingly slow and remote. Phil had told us of the best areas to search, but few seemed to ever connect. To have any chance we would need to undertake a long walk, and Andy had already decided to remain with the car and listen to the Euros. We managed to persuade our hire car up the steep track to the mast, and from there the massive scale of the search area was all too apparent. We started to ready ourselves with layers and water, but Malc spotted a distant white blob on the hillside. Surely not? Scopes out and before you know it Andy was doing a jig - the famously tough-to-see male Snowy Owl had surrendered immediately. Incredible luck! We were joined by a couple of other birders from the boat before walking up the hill for closer views. It was impossible to get close, but the scope views were superb. This is how a Snowy Owl should be seen, in a place that feels like  the edge of the earth. It was my third UK Snowy, and I saw two in the US years, but it’s not a species you tire of. Phil and I tracked further for closer views and it was a thoroughly enjoyable hour or so. Aside from a couple of Golden Plover and Bonxies, the only other signs of life up there were three Mountain Hares. We called in at Rerwick again on the way back, but this time the calling Corncrake was obliging, at least vocally.

Best image I could manage!

Alan Lewis' better image, taken last autumn.

The next and final town full days were hampered by fog then heavy rain, but we still managed to enjoy the birds and good views of a couple of Otters, soaking in the breeding auks, terns, phalaropes (again) and other waders, Whooper Swans and general proliferation of northern wildlife.  News of a Green Warbler on Fair Isle briefly added excitement until we realised it was impossible to get there in the conditions. Orca had been a main target but none were reliably seen during our stay, and the more regular pod was down on Orkney. But despite some frustrations, I thoroughly enjoyed Shetland in summer and will definitely be returning. In fact I can't wait!