Plover Lover! 27th August 2022

We changed tactics, fed up with travelling large distances for birds that had already departed or which were proving to be really elusive and therefore virtually impossible to connect with. If we are going to achieve our aim of completing our 'big year', that is to see at least 300 species by the end of December, then we needed to 'up our game' and aim for birds that were definitely still around and that were easier to see. Of course nothing can be taken for granted in the birding game, birds after all are winged creatures and are very capable of disappearing in an instant. Generally though if a bird is present and reported in the morning then it will still be around later in the day since most bird species migrate and move at night.

So on Saturday morning, following on from a mixed week of birding when we suffered as many 'dips', the term birders use to describe not seeing a target bird, as we did successes, we held fire and took our time before venturing out. There were quite a few options with many scarce and rare birds seen in the country during the previous few days. Some of those we had already seen, others we had already 'dipped', but it was only 'new' birds for our year list that really interested us. With only a little over four months left we were going to need to see about ten new species per month in order to get over the line. That doesn't sound much but, with the exception of a few wintering birds that we didn't get at the start of the year, all would have to be rarer species, the majority of which are passage migrants and only occur here occasionally, most of the others are true vagrants which usually only hang around for a day or two. In 2019 we saw 289 species. Unfortunately our ultimate aim was scuppered by some bad luck in September, so we were left with too much to do towards the end of the year. That near miss became a yard stick though and I constantly compare this years effort to the one made three years ago. At the same stage in 2019 we had 256 species on our year list, this year we already had 263 so we were in good shape. A good weekend would help us get ever closer to our target.

Pectoral Sandpiper had been on my radar for a few weeks. Not a particularly rare species since many are found each year in the UK, but one which doesn't always occur locally. Indeed it was only last year that I added the species to my Oxfordshire list. There had been a few recorded already this year but none had been close to home. I felt sure that we'd see one somewhere along the way at some point during the autumn but with want of anything better to do, and with wanting an assured year tick, I targeted one that had been present for a couple of weeks at Eyebrook Reservoir in Rutland anyway. We waited for its continued presence to be announced before setting out and that confirmation came at around eight-thirty in the morning. The Pectoral Sandpiper would be the first part in an ambitious plan for the day, provided other target birds were also still present.

Eyebrook Reservoir lies just south of Oakham, about sixty miles due north of home. A trouble free drive during which we actually encountered some rain for a while, a rare event in itself these days, saw us arrive at the edge of the reservoir just before ten o'clock. We visit Eyebrook occasionally, it is a good spot to watch fishing Ospreys and is also a reliable place to catch up with Smew in the winter. The Pectoral Sandpiper was usually to be found at the inflow end of the reservoir so I headed the car towards there. The low water levels had exposed much mud which meant that viewing of the birds, of which many were either feeding or resting, would be from a greater distance than usual. We parked under a leafy tree and set up the scope ready to scan the birds. A quick scrutiny revealed a couple of Ruff, four Dunlin, two Greenshank, several Black-tailed Godwit, a hundred or more Lapwing but no Pectoral Sandpiper. If I had seen that haul of waders anywhere in Oxon then I'd have been delighted but here I was looking for just the one bird and so far I couldn't find it! The glee would have to wait until I did. I joined some other birders a little further along the road and asked if they had seen the Pectoral Sandpiper. The reply was that they thought they had but weren't sure and seemed glad that I'd asked since they hoped that I'd be able to confirm that the bird they were watching was it. They directed me towards a Ruff. I explained that the bird we were looking for was smaller, barely larger than a Dunlin, and went through the main ID points with them. It was clear that the Pec Sand wasn't amongst the throng of birds on view and I wondered if our run of recent bad luck was to continue. I widened the search and two-thirds of the way along the inflow spotted the target bird. I should have been more thorough ten minutes earlier. The other birders were delighted when I pointed it out to them and thanked me profusely, an overreaction I thought for what is a fairly common migrant but hey, I accepted the gratitude with grace and pleasure, anyway. It's not often I get lauded for identifying a bird correctly. The bird was around a hundred metres away so it was in severe record shot territory only. 

Pectoral Sandpiper

While we'd been watching the Pectoral Sandpiper, the next cog in our twitching plans had fallen into place, as had a third but more of that later, when the European Roller that had been found in the Lincolnshire Fens a few days before had been reported again. I had, of course, already done some homework so knew that Timberland, near Woodhall Spa, where the Roller was, was about fifty-five miles further north and about a ninety minute drive. This further north, and second part of the twitching equation was important if we were going to get the third bird on our wish list for the day. We couldn't afford to spare any time though if we were to get all three so left Eyebrook as soon as we had secured the Pectoral Sandpiper tick. We had only seen one Roller before, a superbly showy bird in Suffolk just last year and were keen to see another. However, I'd seen reports that the bird we were now on our way to see, showed only very distantly across flat farmland and viewing was hindered by attendant heat haze so we wouldn't be getting the same experience that we had had before. The road that the Roller was showing from, was possibly one of the worst I've ever driven on, the clay banks that many Fen roads are built upon are slowly but surely sinking back into the reclaimed marshland and that has left tracks akin to those a rollercoaster would ride on. Quite apt really considering the target bird!

We saw the line of birders and their parked cars ahead and took the closest free parking spot available. I didn't bother walking up to the other birders but instead erected the scope by the car and pointed it towards the general area where the others own scopes were aimed. By some minor miracle the Roller was directly in the scope view when I placed my eye to the lens. Another year tick secured with the minimum of effort involved. The views though were as bad as the reports had forewarned, the heat shimmer was dreadful and it was difficult to discern any details of the bird at all except for the radiant blue colour when it flew from its perch to the ground. It was hardly worth taking any photos at all so I just gratefully accepted the tick, and after taking a few minutes to eat our packed lunch while we discussed our options for the rest of the day, we got back in the car and drove carefully away on the switchback highway. For much better photos of a Roller, see Rolling, rolling, rolling…..

Roller (!)

Now for the aforementioned third bird and our real target for the day. A Greater Sand Plover (GSP) had been found on the beach at Redcar on Teesside late on Thursday afternoon. The same bird had been seen on the north-eastern coast of Scotland on the previous weekend just a few miles away from where we had twitched our only previous GSP at the Ythan Estuary in 2008. We had lucked in on that bird on the middle Saturday of a September holiday and ticked it by way of driving out of our way from Lochcarron on the west coast to the Cairngorms via the Ythan on the east coast, a fair old trip to make on the roads of Scotland. That bird was a juvenile which was frequenting a muddy field above the river with a small flock of Ringed Plovers. Digital cameras were still being developed back then but I secured a photo by way of holding a point and shoot to the eyepiece of my scope.

Greater Sand Plover, Ythan Estuary, September 2008

On Friday morning the Plover had been eagerly looked for by many twitchers and was quickly re-found on the same part of the beach. Redcar is a busy seaside town though, and once holidaymakers and other folk had arrived on the beach and the promenade, the GSP was forced to beat a retreat along with the Ringed Plover and Sanderling flock to nearby rocks. Around midday it disappeared but was found again later in the day on the same beach but a mile or so further north towards the mouth of the River Tees. Saturday morning had seen a repeat with lots of eager birders keen to see the rare Plover. It was found on the same part of the beach and the bird had been reported continually all morning as birders, including my good mate Jim (The Standlake Birder) who had made it too late the evening before owing to delays in heavy traffic but had wisely stayed overnight so that he'd give himself another chance, arrived from all over the country to see the bird. At times the GSP spent time on the sands close to the bandstand on the busy promenade enabling many to observe it without having to leave the carparks.

Even though we had seen the Greater Sand Plover in Scotland so didn't 'need' it for our life lists, because the Redcar was an adult, it was a bird that I decided that I'd like to see. Redcar is a long direct drive from home, 220 miles in fact, and we've done far too many miles recently in our pursuit of birds. Trouble is though that we have 'achieving the big year' foremost in our minds so need to do those long journeys to keep the list ticking over. As we sat picnicking at the Roller site, Mrs Caley and myself agreed that we may as well continue on to Redcar because we were already a part way there, rather than drive home and then, should we wish to see the Plover, make the relatively even longer drive on the Sunday. Besides, and most importantly considering our recent dip in form, we knew that the GSP was there so we should connect. If we left it until Sunday then it might disappear overnight and then we'd have missed out. I entered the details into the SatNav, I was surprised that it was still 150 miles and over three hours to Redcar, but we were committed to going anyway so off we went. 

The drive wasn't too bad apart from a laborious stretch of the A1 as we passed Leeds, the teenage pop festival was in full swing, and we arrived  just after four o'clock. The last report received of the Greater Sand Plover related that it was still on the beach about a mile from the carpark. A returning birder told us that the bird was still there, had been sleeping for the whole time he'd been with it, and rather ominously added that, 'it was a long walk'. Still it had to be done. We crossed the beach to the edge of the sea and then walked along the surf towards the Plover's location. The beach was still fairly busy with folk walking, some with and some without dogs, a few hardy swimmers, and a fair few just sat taking in the fine sands. The density of beach lovers thinned out quickly though as we got further away from the cars and the caravan park that overlooked the sands. I stopped and scanned the way ahead and could see a widely spaced out line of maybe a dozen birders ahead of us in the distance. 

We began encountering birds, small groups of Sanderling in fact. These most enigmatic of wading birds were characteristically running along the edge of the water gleaning what they could as the tide receded. We had fortunately timed our visit just as the tide had turned, and even I know that wading birds become very active as the tide ebbs since food is left stranded and exposed. Even though we were on a mission, I stopped for a few seconds and took some shots of the clockwork-like birds. Sanderlings are delightful little birds and watching them scurrying across a sandy beach is one of the true joys of birding. A Sanderling is also mentioned in the Half Man Half Biscuit song, 'National Shite Day'. That tune was now reverberating around in my head and I hoped that this day wouldn't deteriorate as it did in the song. "Is this your Sanderling?"

Sanderling

Other birds feeding amongst the left-behind seaweed included Dunlin and Turnstones, and the first Ringed Plovers that we saw flew past. I checked the birders further along the beach and was relieved to see them still all in the same place and still all pointing their optics at the same which meant that the Greater Sand Plover must still be there. We were probably halfway to our target now and that twitchy excitement was building. 

Ringed Plover

My fears of failure increased though when I noticed that the birders were now walking back toward us. That could only mean that the Greater Sand Plover was awake and on the move. Finding it now would be a bit trickier since everybody was now trying to pin it down again. But we needn't have worried because we had been joined by another birder, a local chap who knew his bearings, and a few minutes later he suddenly said, 'It's there, at the edge of the water'. About fifty metres away stood facing us was a large, almost Starling sized, pale looking Plover. A quick look revealed the orangey breast-band, black bandit-like face mask, and long legs. We had our bird and it was approaching us as it fed with the other birds. I secured a few record shots.

Greater Sand Plover

The Greater Sand Plover then took to flight and sped past us, flying back towards the town and carpark that we'd left thirty minutes before! Luckily I was quick enough to grab some flight shots, a few of which were in focus. In flight the overall paleness was evident with the only obvious features those mentioned above, although it was noticeable that the legs are long enough for the toes to project beyond the tail. 

Now we had to find the Plover all over again but that didn't take too long and now we were able to get close enough for some better photos. It was actually easy to find and follow owing to its larger size and more deliberate feeding action. When the Sanderling were bustling all around, the Plover acted like those clever clips in movies where they slow one thing up while everything else continues apace.

The Greater Sand Plover took to flight again when it was spooked by a small flock of Starlings. Even though I was quick enough to get flight shots for the second time, the camera had ideas of its own and focussed on the Starlings instead.

Starlings

It was another fifteen minutes until the GSP was spotted again. The number of watchers had decreased to just half a dozen so there were fewer eyes on the bird as it flew off and even less pairs of binoculars. It was a Togger, however, who found the bird again, keeping company with the mixed flock of feeding birds. We'd had enough of trudging back and forth through the soft sands, even though the feeling of cool sand squishing through ones toes is a true delight so we plonked ourselves down and waited for the Plover to come to us. The bird had different ideas and, flushed by a jogger who didn't give an iota for the wishes of birders, flew off soon after and disappeared again.

We stayed put for a while, it was almost quarter to six by then and we knew we'd have to shift soon and begin the long drive home, and waited for one more chance at gaining some closer views and photos of the Sand Plover. There was plenty of action from some of the other birds as we sat there, so I took some shots of Dunlin and Ringed Plover. I had moved closer to the strand line in readiness, should the GSP come running back along the beach.

Dunlin

Ringed Plover

Despite much scanning of the shore, I couldn't find the Greater Sand Plover so we invoked the ten minute rule, the countdown to when we'd start walking back to the car. Incredibly just moments later the GSP appeared, as if by magic! It wasn't too far away either and was again coming closer with every run and stoop that it made to find food.

Everything was now in our favour, the light was superb with the sun dipping to the horizon behind us, we were virtually alone since all of the other birders were still a few hundred metres away up the beach where the GSP had previously been seen, and no joggers or dogs threatened to ruin the fun. All that we needed was for the bird to continue on its way towards us and I'd get the photos that I wanted. And oh boy, did the bird perform for us! Over the next five minutes we had the Plover feeding unperturbed just twenty metres away and the experience ranked as one of my most memorable encounters with a rare bird.

Even when a couple of over eager Toggers caught up with us and the bird, and then encroached even closer than I was sat, the bird appeared tolerant. Amazingly, so was I since I'd got my shots and was happy. However, one chap who was using fine fieldcraft by slithering over the sand in snake-like fashion, then blotted his copybook and ruined everybody's fun by crawling right up to the line of seaweed that the GSP and other birds were feeding in. Good field skills or not, no bird is going to permit an approach into it's own space so the whole flock was soon airborne and flying quickly away. With sheer luck I managed to fire off some frames and not for the first time that day managed to capture the Sand Plover in flight. The resulting images were pretty good too, if I say so myself, and received some nice acclaim on Twitter. They still weren't good enough for the BirdGuides photo of the week judges though. My images never are these days.

The bird had flown towards the town and carpark. We wouldn't see it again. I couldn't resist tutting loudly and giving snake man a hard cold stare but it didn't really matter. We had had fine views of the Greater Sand Plover, and had had a brilliant day in adding three year ticks to that year list which now required just another 34 to reach the magic number. If we could have a day like this one every weekend then we'd be home and hosed by the end of October.

Year List additions;

264) Pectoral Sandpiper, 265) European Roller, 266) Greater Sand Plover