One Good Tern, Deserves Another Part 1; Coquet Island, 9 June 2023

The start of another holiday! It's no secret that the Old Caley's love Scotland and Speyside in particular so we were in full on excited mode when we left our driveway on Friday 9 June and headed northwards. As per normal, we like to extend our stay away and break the long journey by stopping over on the way. Sometimes our stopover can be for a few days, or even a whole week, but this time we had just an overnight stay in Northumberland arranged. There were of course a few birds that we hoping to see there. 

Our birding would actually start in Cumbria, at Kendal in the south of the Lake District, still a hundred odd miles away from Amble on the opposite side of the country where we were booked on a boat trip around Coquet Island in the evening. A Common Rosefinch had taken up residence next to a farm shop on the outskirts of Kendal and at times had given excellent views. We had seen a Common Rosefinch the year before in Northumberland but that was a first-summer male so it hadn't sported the beautiful pink plumage of a full adult male, a plumage state that I'd never seen before. The Common Rosefinch at Kendal had been expertly photographed, on occasions so well that the details on the ring it was carrying on one of its leg could be discerned. It transpired that the bird had been ringed on Fair Isle in the Shetlands last summer. Amazingly it had been rediscovered singing from overhead wires close the Cumbrian Wildlife Trust offices a couple of weeks ago.

The drive north wasn't too bad, apart from the usual crawl around Birmingham, and we arrived at Plumgarth's farm shop just after eleven o'clock. It was a warm and sunny morning with little wind so conditions were perfect for birding. I parked the car facing the Wildlife Trust's garden, where the Rosefinch had already been reported singing earlier in the morning. I didn't expect to hear the bird singing as soon as I stepped out of the car though! The song of a Rosefinch is short but very sweet and is very penetrating and resonating. The simple but beautiful four note, "wheoo, whee, …..wheo, wheooo", was echoing around the buildings and carpark, clearly emanating from the trees opposite. As I reached for the boot handle to get the binoculars, I was thinking, 'That was easy!'

Except of course it wouldn't be easy at all, it hardly ever is. True the bird continued to sing for a another minute but for the duration of that time my concentration was blown by a chap who came rushing over when he saw me raise my binoculars and look in the direction of the song. Loudly he called, 'Have you got it?', "Where is it?' and so on. I tried to explain that I'd literally just gotten out of my car and that, no I didn't have it but that I could hear it singing. I was still trying to sort my camera out and pass Mrs Caley her binoculars. By the time I had dealt with the other birder's persistent questioning, the Rosefinch had stopped singing. I knew where it had sung from so studied the trees on the opposite side of the road, and I felt sure it'd sing again so that I could zero in on it. However, for the next ninety minutes we heard nothing more!

I caught a glimpse of a sandy coloured bird fly out of a bush right next to the road and was convinced that there was a hint of pink as it disappeared into another larger tree. It was the area where the bird had sung so I assumed it was the Rosefinch. We searched the garden and the surrounding area for the hour and half that we could spare but there was no further sign. It wasn't the best the start to the holiday but I tentatively added the bird to my year list, there was no doubt that we'd heard it singing. We made a decision to revisit on the way back from Scotland in a week's time. I just wish that over eager chap had left me alone for that first sixty-seconds and had allowed me a better chance to locate the bird.

Year List addition;

237) Common Rosefinch

We had to leave because the boat trip to Coquet Island was booked for five-thirty that evening, and I didn't want to have it scuppered by the Friday afternoon traffic. Of course, because we were on a mission, every tractor and broken down truck in the north-east lay in our way so allowing extra time proved to be sensible since we only arrived in Amble close to five o'clock. Still enough time to grab a nice ice-cream from the local and famous Gelato!

We've been taking the one-hour Puffin Cruise boat tour around Coquet Island for a few years now and the skipper knows us enough now to greet us personally as we boarded. I inquired about the Roseate Tern situation, many seabirds have taken a huge hit by the bird-flu outbreak, and was encouraged by his positive reply that, yes there were still good numbers on the island. We were the only "serious" birders on the boat, most folk take the trip in order to see the more recognisable Puffins and a pod of enigmatic Bottle-nose Dolphins that frequent the bay, but it was the Roseate Terns that I wanted.

As the boat chugged out of the small landing quay and into the River Coquet, we watched a female Eider and its remaining two, quite well grown ducklings feeding in the rather grim looking mucky water. It's the drakes that have the wow factor in the duck family but there can't be many birds more beautiful than the intricately feathered female Eider Ducks.

Eider (Somateria mollissima)

On the opposite side of the River Coquet as we sailed towards its mouth, a posse of nine Goosander ducks were idling in the shallows. I think that they were possibly a female and her well grown brood of youngsters. As our boat passed, three of them including the female, took flight and flew alongside the craft and gave a brief semblance of Hilda Ogden's Mallard ornaments that famously adorned her living room wall. I've probably severely damaged my credibility by even thinking that!

Goosander (Mergus merganser)

The Goosander trio pitched down in the surf close to the river mouth and gave some excellent views as the boat passed them once more. The ducks rode the wake created by the boat easily and showed just how much at home they are in choppy waters. They do after all, choose fast flowing upland streams and rivers as their preferred breeding sites, although it is only the females that do so since the males all head to the coast to while away the summer once they've performed their one and only act of the breeding cycle.

Once out into the open bay and with Coquet Island itself visible just a half mile or so away, we soon encountered the Dolphins. We've sailed with Puffin Cruises around half a dozen times now and we've seen the pod of Bottle-noses on every trip except one when the sea was blanketed in thick fog. Bottle-nosed Dolphins are large animals, the adults measure upwards of three metres from nose to tail and are very impressive and powerful creatures to see up close. They surge through the water quickly and although we didn't see any breaching on this sailing, several of the Dolphins scythed through the water with their dorsal fins far above the waves. One adult and its smaller calf were swimming in tandem and seemed as interested in checking out the boat as we were in studying them.

Bottlenose dolphin (Tursiops truncatus)

The Dolphins moved away and the skipper resumed his course for the Island. A drake Eider drifted past the boat. Eider's are known as Cuddy Ducks in this part of the world. Cuddy is a derivative of St Cuthbert, who was famous in the area, he lived as a hermit on the Farne Islands, and had a fondness for the animals and birds of Northumberland and particularly the Eider Duck. The male of the species is a striking, handsome bird with lovely pied plumage and a robust large headed appearance. The large wedge shaped yellow bill contrasts with the black and white face and is set off by an unusual pale green coloured hind neck. Seeing birds from a boat allows for much better views than you can get from land, with the low angles providing very authentic looking shots. Luckily it was a fairly calm sea as well so focusing and holding the camera steady wasn't too much of a challenge.

There were Puffins around of course. I was worried before travelling that the bird flu outbreak last autumn would have seriously depleted the numbers of seabirds around but it seemed as though Puffins were little affected because there were hundreds, probably thousands, milling around. Because I've taken so many photos of the adorable "Sea Clowns" before, I admit to having become more than a little blasé about them. I still enjoy watching them but for once I resisted reeling off a whole memory card on them. In fact the only Puffin that I pointed my camera at obviously felt just as indifferent towards me because it instantly turned its back. Serves me right!

Puffin (Fratercula arctica)

Instead it was another of my personal favourite seabirds, the unheralded Fulmar, that captured my attention. Normally Fulmars are seen gliding past at speed as they ride the updrafts of the cliffs so the one that was sat floating on the sea just metres away from the boat provided me with a different photo opportunity. I don't think anybody else on the boat even noticed the extraordinary looking cousin of the Albatrosses. Fulmar are known as Tubenoses, a reference to the incredible structure that adorns the top of the bill and enables the species to possess an amazing sense of smell. With the boat racing past to reach the island there wasn't much time to grab a few shots but it was good to get that different sea-level view of the species for a change.

Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis)

The closer that we got to Coquet Island more and more Terns were seen flying back and forth. Outwardly the signs here were looking good, that bird-flu hadn't been too destructive but I knew from reading accounts from seabird experts that wasn't actually the case. Other seabird colonies elsewhere in the UK had taken a huge hit. Coquet Island is home to four species of Tern. Sandwich, Arctic, Common,  and Roseate Terns all breed on the island. I began trying to pick some Roseate's out of the thousands that were filling the sky but failed and could only find the other three more common species.

Arctic Tern (Sterna paradisaea)

Common Tern (Sterna hirunda)

Sandwich Tern (Sterna sandvicensis)

Unfortunately the state of the sea was still too low for the skipper to get in close to the area where the Terns breed. The sea is very shallow around the island and because the tide had only recently turned and started filling up the bay, the depth of the water didn't yet allow a close approach. So I was reduced to taking photos at random, aiming at the dry stone walling which I knew was the preferred nesting site of the Roseate Terns. It was frustrating because I just couldn't be sure if I was seeing any of the beautiful pink flushed and most streamlined of the Terns. David, the skipper, could see my mounting frustration and I asked him if he could get any closer to the land so that I could identify at least one Rosy, but he couldn't risk venturing any nearer. David would come to my rescue later (all revealed below). As it happened and on review, later in the week when I had time to look at the photos that I took, I found that I had actually managed one decent frame which captured a couple of Roseate Terns. 

Roseate Tern (Sterna dougallii)

So at the time, it was rather a disconsolate Old Caley that headed back to port since I'd thought that I'd missed out on the Roseate's. On the ride back we had a nice close encounter with a Guillemot, the first I'd seen this year and the fourth year tick of the short boat trip. Interestingly we didn't see any Razorbills but I'd noticed that instead of circumnavigating the whole island, we had sailed directly to the lighthouse end, and I knew that most of the Auks nested on the open seaward side of the island so they were probably still there. We'd be visiting a seabird colony in Scotland the week after so I wasn't too perturbed by not seeing any Razorbills here.

Guillemot (Uria aalge)

The pod of Dolphins put in a repeat appearance as we neared the harbour and quite a crowd of people had gathered at the pier end and they were getting good views of the cetaceans from there. A couple of the Dolphins swam so closely to the boat that you could almost touch them if you so desired.

I couldn't resist snapping a Puffin that was stationed almost within the neck of the river. On such a calm day I thought that to see one so close to shore was unusual so needed recording. Not that you'd ever know that from the photo.

As we neared the mooring point, an eclipse male Eider sidled alongside the boat and gave me another close photo opportunity. To all intents and purposes the Eider could be taken for a female since its fancy plumage had been replaced by muted browns. It still sported the yellowish bill, however, which denoted its true identity.

As we prepared to disembark, David stopped me. He said that if we wanted to, and had the time, then we could stay on and go on the next sailing. He explained that he was unhappy that I hadn't got the views of Roseate Terns that I clearly wanted and that he would be able to guide the boat in much closer on the next trip since the water depth would be much higher. It was a no-brainer and I told Mrs Caley to stay in her seat. We were both extremely grateful for the offer and for his generosity.

The Goosanders were still present as we returned to the river and headed back out to the island. One of them was fishing midstream which meant I could get a few more photos. A small flotilla of Mute Swans were also taking some time out on the estuary and Oystercatchers were noisily going to and fro. For landlocked birders from Oxfordshire, it always feels great to be by the seaside!

It was remarkable how the conditions had changed in just over an hour since we first sailed out of the river mouth. The first time around with the surge of the racing incoming tide, the water at the pier head was a bit choppy and it was difficult to stand on the outward journey, now it was almost flat calm. An hour before the breeze had been chilly too, but later on the sun had appeared again and it was pleasantly warm. We encountered a lone Guillemot again. This bird had a large fish wedged in its bill and didn't dive to avoid the boat as they usually would. I was able to get a few pleasing shots. 

The Dolphins were still in the bay but further away so the skipper didn't spend as much time with them. I didn't even bother to watch them but instead chose to watch and re-engage with the Puffins this time and take a few more photos of them. The incoming birds had bills stuffed with Sand-eels which must be a good sign that the Pufflings deep in their nesting burrows were getting well fed. Birds heading out to feed seemed eager to get more fishing in.

As we approached the island, I began looking hard for the Roseate Terns. I spotted one in flight but a sudden swell knocked me off aim and I photographed the sky. At this point I hadn't realised that I'd taken a photo of a couple earlier so I felt good anyway at adding the species to the year list. David, as promised, piloted the boat in much closer to the shore this time so that when we drew up alongside the dry stone wall it was easy to pick out the target Terns. There were at least half a dozen of them adorning the stones and more would be secreted on their own nests within the nooks and crannies and boxes that are provided for them.

A Seal appeared right next to the boat. I'm not usually that bothered with creatures other than birds but I couldn't resist the inquisitive face that stared at us. We had a wonderful dog once that had the same look on his face. I like to think that the seals are looking up and out of the water and wondering what life would really be like "up there". I have some advice for the seals, stay where you are, it's better.

Grey Seal (Halichoerus grypus)

Terns are elegant birds and extremely graceful fliers. The long slender wings and tails of the Roseate Terns make them even more stylish and it was flight shots that I really wanted. A few years ago I managed some half decent photos of the species in flight and I wanted another go. I was able to watch the Rosy's on the stones and follow any that took flight. My results were mixed to begin with but slowly I got my act together.

A few minutes of practise and I was picking the Roseate Terns out of the throng with more regularity. One bird flew directly overhead and the underneath shots captured the key identification points, the rakish build, slim wings and lengthy tail streamers. The hint of rosy blush could be discerned even though the sun had disappeared and the day had turned a little bit grey. The long, virtually all black bill is a good diagnostic feature when a Roseate Tern is seen well.

I followed the same bird as it flew back into the colony and this time the background was provided by vegetation and the buildings which gave a bit more contrast to some of the images. It was good to get some more photos of the species but if I'm honest I think my shots from a few years back were probably better. One day I feel like I might actually nail a really good photo so I'm eagerly looking forward to my next chance already.

A Common Tern passed overhead and gave an immediate and useful comparison to the Roseate Tern seen just before. Common Terns have shorter tail streamers and have a distinctive dark edge to the hind wing which the Roseate lacks (compare the shots below of a Common Tern with the ones of a Roseate above). A Common Terns bill is predominately red with a black tip rather than the Roseate's which is black with a hint of a red base.

The boat neared the landing quay of the island, although landing is strictly prohibited at all times. Coquet Island is the realm of the birds only and the only people allowed there are the wardens and the occasional light bulb changer for the lighthouse (which is actually arranged by my mate Captain Trev who runs Trinity House). Lighthouses are very famous around these parts owing to the incredible bravery of a young woman called Grace Darling who saved a boat load of sailors near to The Farne Islands a bit further north. Look it up, she was a real heroine. While David the skipper narrated the events of the fateful night that Grace rowed her boat through tumultuous seas to rescue the stricken sailors, I was still looking out for Roseate Terns but was treated instead to the full on copulation ceremony of a pair of Common Terns.

There are hundreds of Puffins around the rocks and concrete landing stages, most of them just idly lazing between fishing sorties. I picked one out who was looking every inch of the typical comical Puffin and it was easy to see why they are referred to as Sea Clowns. They just look funny!

A trio of squabbling Turnstones caught my eye as they fought each other. Two of them were actually locked together in combat for a few seconds. Sadly I couldn't quite get the camera to take a prize winning shot of them. But then, have I ever?

Turnstone (Arenaria interpres)

It was time for the boat to return to base, there was still another scheduled sailing that evening. As we passed a small rocky inlet I spotted another Roseate Tern. This one was stood resting on the rocks but our time was up so I could only snatch some shots as we passed. Another Rosy was flying out to sea. It had been a good couple of hours aboard the Puffin Cruise. 

The quick journey back to Amble was quiet, the Dolphins had disappeared but there were still a few Terns and Puffins flying past. As we entered the river, a fine second-calendar year Great Black-backed Gull was floating serenely along on the water. Great Black-backed Gulls are formidable creatures capable of preying on quite large animals and birds so are considered as one of the brutes of the bird world. That doesn't detract from their own beauty though.

Great Black-backed Gull (Larus marinus)

Year List additions;

238) Puffin, 239) Guillemot, 240) Fulmar, 241) Roseate Tern