Ten days before Mrs Caley and I travelled to Weymouth to see a Little Auk that had been found the week before swimming in the harbour there (read about that here). Little Auk's are our smallest Auk species and are usually encountered as rapidly flying dots as they pass North Sea coasts in the late autumn and early winter. Although Little Auk was on our life lists we had never had a great view of one and certainly had never obtained a photograph so we made the trip to Dorset to put that right. In the event, we did get to see the bird well but it didn't prove to be as photogenic for me as it had for others so despite effectively underlining a lifer with good views I was still a bit disappointed that I didn't get a decent photo.
On Tuesday I had finished work by early afternoon and was backing onto my driveway when the "clip-clop" alert tone of my phone informing me of a WhatsApp message from one of our local groups had arrived. I have different tones for different groups so that I know where the messages are from but instead of reading the alert immediately I unloaded my van first. When another alert sounded quite soon after the first and then another, I knew that something good must have been found. A further alert informing me of an incoming message from Mrs Caley, who had also received the same messages from the WhatsApp group, finally had me reaching for the phone. She couldn't believe why I hadn't called her to say get ready, we're going out!
The messages both from the local birding group and from Mrs Caley, pretty much had me aghast. There was a Little Auk on the Thames at Farmoor! In all my birding life I had never even had a sniff of a chance of seeing a Little Auk in Oxfordshire so this was exciting and really demanded immediate action. However, my excitement lacked enthusiasm because through the day I had slowly felt quite ill owing to a reaction to the Booster jab that I'd been given the afternoon before. I was looking forward to falling asleep on the sofa rather than go out birding! Some things just have to be done though and time was pressing so at two-thirty we were heading out into the traffic and southwards towards Oxford. Constant updates from fellow Oxon birders informed us that the Little Auk was still on the river close to Pinkhill Lock.
Less than half an hour later we parked up in Farmoor village and headed out towards the Lock via a footpath. Thankfully it's only a half mile or thereabouts from where we parked and despite each step getting heavier than one before and me tiring with each of those steps we made it to the assembled fellow county birders soon after. I momentarily forgot my headache and general allover malaise as I quickly located the stranded seabird which was swimming, very strongly to its credit, in mid-river by the moored narrow boats. This was an amazing county tick and one I never envisaged getting. My own personal list had moved up to 235, still 40 shy of the top county listers but then I missed out on the boom years of the 80's and 90's because I was getting drunk at football matches, although I felt as if I'd recaptured one of the subsequent hangovers. Also amazing was the fact that I'd been given a second chance at such a tough bird to see after the trip to Weymouth a week and a half before.
The Little Auk, clearly a victim of the recent Storm Arwen which had battered the UK on the weekend before, swam strongly towards the lock and disappeared around the bend in the river before I had a chance to actually catch up alongside it. I walked briskly after it, leaving Mrs Caley to exchange pleasantries with some of our Oxon peers while they had to make do with a quick hello from me because I wanted some photos. I caught up with the Little Auk at the mooring pontoons and took some rapid-fire shots, unfortunately all with the wrong camera settings since they were still set for shooting Snow Buntings in the brightly lit snowy conditions on Sunday! I eventually realised that mistake and reset in time to get some useable images just as the bird sailed past at just a few metres out from the bank.
The Little Auk was swimming aimlessly around the lock area, often going right up to the lock gates before frustratedly turning back and swimming back again. It put me in mind of the way a small scamp of a dog would swim, low in the water and fast like a whirring clockwork toy. By the time it had swum right up to me once more, I was feeling really sorry for the poor little waif and even a bit guilty that I was taking pleasure from the predicament it had found itself in.
At one point the Little Auk had swum right underneath the pontoon that I was knelt on and I could see it just a couple of feet beneath my feet. It really did appear totally confused and my heart was aching to see it behaving so hopelessly. The bird we had seen in Weymouth by contrast appeared totally at home and at ease in the harbour there, and indeed gave us the right runaround as it frequently dived underwater. This Little Auk never submerged once. We watched it try its luck at the lock again and of course it was thwarted by the closed gates once more. It attempted to climb up on the reeds at the far side of the channel and stood precariously on a clump of stems for a minute or so. It had picked up some detritus from the mucky water which had stained its pristine white underparts brown and made it look even more pathetic. This was rapidly turning into the saddest twitch ever.
The Little Auk flopped back into the water again and yet again swam aimlessly but quickly upriver. As it passed the moored boats on the opposite bank we decided that we'd seen enough. We turned away and prayed that the bird would somehow survive but had grave doubts that it would. It seems daft to get so emotional about a single bird, especially considering that Little Auks are amongst the most abundant seabirds on the planet but I love all things feathered and I just felt so sad for it.
As we walked away, we had only been present at the riverside for only twenty minutes, we chatted to Badger about the possibility of whether the bird could be rescued. The next day thanks to the power of the local WhatsApp group and the dedication of several fantastic people the Little Auk, which thankfully had survived the night, was captured. It was given a check up and it seemed to be in reasonable health so a decision was made to give it a fighting chance of survival by transporting it to the Somerset coast and releasing it into a tidal tributary of the Severn Estuary. Apparently on release it swam strongly out into the channel so we can all hope that it did make it back out to sea where it could feed and be at home again. My thanks go to all those involved in giving it that chance at survival.
Great write up again nick, here's hoping to it's survival.
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