My Prince Caspian, Frampton Marsh, 11th July 2020

Over the past few weeks a Lammergeier (or a Bearded Vulture if you're not really a birder) had settled in the Peak District close to the Derbyshire and South Yorkshire border. Originally spotted flying over Alderney, this wandering first summer bird, from a reintroduction scheme in the Alps, had been noticed flying over Balsall Common just forty miles from my house and then seen a few times around the Ladybower Reservoir area in the Peaks. A few gripping photos of it had emerged online taken by a chap who clearly knew where it was roosting but was reluctant to share that information with others. Then on Thursday the 9th, one of the UK's premier listers, after searching for several days, discovered the roost for himself and posted the details. The following morning most of the UK's hardcore twitchers, of which I am certainly not one of, made their way over arduous terrain in darkness to the roost site, and enjoyed close up views of one of Europes biggest birds both stood on its roosting ledge and in flight. When the photos and videos were posted later that day I was, in company with most other less adventurous birders I would imagine, absolutely gobsmacked. However, and here's the rub, getting to the Lammergeier was by all accounts very hard work, uphill walking, off track slogging through bog and mire, and its location was over three miles from the nearest access point. My good friend and very intrepid birder and twitcher, Ewan, went on that Friday morning and his tale of the trip had me in awe but also added to my trepidation that Mrs Caley and I wouldn't be able to make it up to see the bird. You can read that report here. So after much discussion on Friday evening, we decided that it just wouldn't be for us and ducked out.

After that Friday evening debate, we wisely settled on another target for the weekend, a bird that I'd been wanting to add to my portfolio for a while, which after spending time in North-west Norfolk had seemingly pitched up at the nations favourite RSPB reserve, Frampton Marsh on the Lincolnshire coast. We had intended to go for the Caspian Tern when it had been at Potter Heigham Marshes in Norfolk a few weeks before but had changed tack and headed up to Holy Island for the Asian Desert Warbler instead. We had missed a Caspian Tern close to Northampton by a few hours when heading home from the Birdfair at Rutland a couple of years ago so this would represent a decent chance of seeing one and adding it to our life lists. As Terns go, a Caspian is as huge as a Lammergeier is to its fellow Birds of Prey, so it was definitely a bird I wanted to appreciate for myself.

We had to wait for a chap to repair our garden fence first on Saturday morning so, unusually for us, we didn't leave home until mid-morning and hence didn't arrive at Frampton Marsh until nearly one o'clock in the afternoon. Mrs Caley had kept a constant check on the Caspian Terns status while I drove, it was still present and showing well. It did fly off at one point, presumably on a fishing mission, but returned an hour later, so we shouldn't have any problem in seeing it. Fifteen minutes before we arrived the Tern was reported as being back on the reedbed scrape and could be seen from the visitor centre. Because we knew the target bird was there we took our time getting geared up, I could see a gaggle of birders watching the scrape from one of the viewing mounds alongside the reedbed scrape perimeter fence, and assumed they were watching the Tern. A few minutes later we joined the others, scanned the reedbed pool, and....nothing! Well, not exactly nothing since there were birds everywhere as there always are at Frampton Marsh, but there was no sign of the Caspian Tern. We walked to the next viewpoint, changing our angle to see if the Tern had been obscured behind one of the reedy islands but again there was no sign of it. At that stage I wasn't much interested in the other birds on offer although I did quickly log three Spoonbills which were new for our year list. We walked along the path to the hides (all closed owing to the virus), and to the mound opposite the track to the 360 hide, but again there was no sign of the Caspian Tern. At least while we there though, a fellow birder finally imparted the news that the Caspian Tern had flown off about forty minutes ago, which would have been just about the time that we parked up in the carpark! Who said this twitching lark was easy? Recently, apart from the Rosy Starling seen on the way to Holy Island, we've had to work quite hard for our birds.

Spoonbills

Now we knew that the Caspian Tern had merely departed, hopefully, on another fishing mission and would, also hopefully, return within an hour or so if it kept to its pattern of behaviour, we settled in to look at some of the other birds on offer. There is always something good, or at least different, at Frampton Marsh. We have twitched many birds here over the past few years and have seen Stilt Sandpiper, Long-billed Dowitcher, White-rumped Sandpiper, Buff-breasted Sandpiper, Pectoral Sandpiper, Wood Sandpiper, Little Stints, Curlew Sandpipers, Hen Harriers, Merlins and loads more. On one visit a few years ago we saw no fewer than 24 different species of wader and I believe the reserve record on a single day is 29! It is a cracking reserve and rightly popular both with birders and the birds themselves. Normally we'd be able to ensconce ourselves into the hides and pick out the birds at close quarters and gain some really good views and photos but, as we all keep saying, this year is very abnormal and, with the hides are closed, all viewing has to be done from perimeter pathways which render more distant views of the birds. Most of the seaward scrapes were dry so most of the bird activity was centred around the reedbed pool. There was a large flock of wading birds congregated all along a sandy spit, where the Caspian Tern should be when present. I picked out Black-tailed Godwits, Bar-tailed Godwits and Knots, the latter two new for the year as well as Redshanks and Dunlin.

Part of the wader flock containing Bar-tailed & Black-tailed Godwits, and Knot

A scan of the furthest reaches of the pool revealed a lovely summer plumaged Curlew Sandpiper and a brief Wood Sandpiper, but too far away for photos owing to the heat shimmer. I also found a couple of Green Sandpipers, a Common Sandpiper and some Little Ringed Plovers. Add in Avocets, Common Snipe, Ruff, Ringed Plover, Lapwings and Oystercatchers and you can see why Frampton Marsh is so celebrated. That's sixteen species right there and all seen while standing in the same spot! There was also the summering Whooper Swan, a bird that owing to injury hasn't been able to migrate with the rest of its mate and has stayed at Frampton for several summers now. An Egyptian Goose was also resting on the same island as the Whooper. 

Whooper Swan

But of course, we had come for the Caspian Tern and after over an hour that hadn't returned. I had also managed to leave my phone in the car so I thought that we may as well return to the car to retrieve it and take advantage of the limited facilities on offer at the visitor centre. On our way there we gazed upwards to make sure that we didn't miss the Caspian Tern should it return but had to settle for a Common Tern and some of the Black-tailed Godwits that were coming and going between the reserve and the Wash.

Common Tern

Black-tailed Godwit

Now, as my regular reader will know, over the last few years we have learned a little ruse to lull the birds that we want to see into a false sense of security. Our trick is to make the rare bird think that we've given up and disappear for a while, usually to a coffee shop or similar. Then once refreshed, we return and catch the bird unawares since it will have sneaked back, or come out of hiding, thinking it was safe since it thinks we've gone home. We used this tactic to great effect last year when we duped both a Rosy Starling and a Spotted Crake. So when we reached the car we stayed for a while and ate some biscuits and drank some water, Lockdown austerity, before returning stealthily to the mound by the 360 hide path. As we walked past the magic mirrors, one of them makes me look really thin (love that mirror), a Spoonbill flew directly overhead and I fired away with the camera for some under fuselage shots. On a visit here last year, during a very wet afternoon in which we dipped a Buff-breasted Sandpiper mainly because you couldn't see more than a few metres in front of your face, a Spoonbill also flew overhead in exactly the same place. On that occasion I thought that I'd nailed some really good shots only to find that my lens had fogged up. So the photos I obtained on this visit were just reward for that earlier failure.

I spoke to a couple of well known twitchers that had come to Frampton for the afternoon after successfully twitching the Lammergeier that morning. They had already seen the Caspian Tern too and assured us that it would be back despite our scepticism. When we reached the viewing mound, there was just one other chap watching, and I politely doffed my cap and inquired whether anything was around. "Not that much now" he replied somewhat disconsolately. I looked out at the wader flock and said, "It's there!", "The Caspian Tern, it's there!", and sure enough it was. Gotcha! 

Caspian Tern, initial record shot

Our ploy had worked again, oh boy do I love that trick! Our sixth life tick of the year, nudging me closer to that magic 400 number, and our 194th bird of this Lockdown year. The Caspian Tern was, as expected, huge, dwarfing a nearby Common Tern and towering over the accompanying Godwit flock. I never realised that Terns came in such a large size, before now I thought that Sandwich Terns were big. The most noticeable feature was the huge orangey-red bill which looks like a bit like a brightly coloured version of an airliners nose cone. The Caspian Tern is often referred to colloquially as "Carrot Beak". Otherwise, the large size apart, the Caspian Tern looked pretty much like any other Tern, with a black cap, grey-white plumage and wings with dusky grey wing tips, and a forked tail. Just as I began setting the scope up so that Mrs Caley could have a better look, the whole flock of birds took to the air. I let the scope fall, thankfully saved by the wire fence, and found the Caspian Tern in the viewfinder and rattled off flight shots. I was enjoying myself immensely now.

After a couple of short circuits of the lagoon the Caspian Tern settled down again on the same sandy island. I dutifully set up the scope and we both enjoyed prolonged views of the super impressive Tern preening and, well, just looking awesome. A Prince indeed!

While the Caspian Tern had been flying, by association I had managed to grab frames of some of the Bar-tailed Godwits too. Barwits are far from regular back home in Oxon and we usually have to wait until we're in Scotland or Cornwall or another hotspot by the coast to record them so having so many here was a big bonus. Also seeing them in tandem with the more familiar (to me) Black-tailed Godwits afforded me to take a useful exercise in distinguishing between them.

Bar-tailed Godwits

After about half an hour of preening and resting the Caspian Tern suddenly took to the air and flew directly away from us. We watched until it was lost in the heat haze and realised that that would be our lot with it. There was another species of bird that we wanted to see while at Frampton Marsh, one that had just recently, last year in fact, began to breed at the reserve and that was Black-necked Grebes. When we first started out birding we travelled to Woolston Eyes near Warrington to see our first ever Black-necked Grebes. At that time I imagined them to be very rare and hard to see, hence I had paid for a key to the restricted access reserve where there was a good sized breeding population. Since then, I have learned that they are a frequent passage migrant to many local sites near us, we have recorded them close to home at all times of the year. Even in this Lockdown year we had seen one already, at Draycote Water back in February, but that had been in winter plumage while the ones here would be in full breeding dress. They had been reported as frequenting the wet grassland near to the East hide so we took the ten minute walk to get to them. Apparently two pairs have bred this summer, raising several chicks and it didn't take long to find them. They were distant but the striking black and tan (isn't that a drink of some sort) plumage was very evident especially through the scope. In all plumages Black-necked Grebes possess a pair of really striking red eyes, as does the similar looking Slavonian Grebe, and those eyes glare back at the watcher. The adult Black-necked Grebes, we saw two, were very active but we didn't see any of their offspring. I have some far superior photos of a summer breeding plumaged Black-necked Grebe taken at Farmoor a few years ago, here.

Black-necked Grebe

We retraced our steps back to the car. A huge flock of Knot sailed along the salt marsh in the distance and a noisy Common Tern flew overhead advertising the fact that it had a tasty fish, but it didn't seem to have any takers for it since it was still flying around carrying its wares when we reached the viewing mound again where there was no sign of the Caspian Tern, in fact the Tern didn't return that day and became much more difficult to see over the next few days, just ask my mate Jim who was led a right merry dance by it before finally connecting on his third try!

Flock of Knot

Common Tern

The last bird we stopped to admire was a handsome Little Egret that was stalking patiently through the shallows next to a clump of reeds. It had been another grand trip to Frampton Marsh which just never disappoints and warrants another visit soon.

Little Tern

Prince Caspian is of course a character invented by C. S. Lewis in his series of children's books, "The Chronicles of Narnia".

Mum: "What are you doing in the wardrobe Johnny?"
Johnny: "Narnia business!"

I'll get my coat.....