As part of his patch working rounds, Nick Marriner takes regular walks around the Oxfordshire Golf Club near Thame. He goes without a set of golf clubs so has the advantage of never spoiling his walk. A few weeks ago he found a juvenile Red-necked Phalarope on the lake that guards the 17th green. That bird proved immensely popular with local birders and some from further afield as well, although I never went to see it because I'd seen one just days before on the outskirts of Birmingham and had seen a few in the county before. On Thursday, Nick scored another good birdie on the same lake, when he discovered a Pectoral Sandpiper feeding on exposed mud at the base of the rocky embankment of the lake. Judging by the amount of stranded golf balls that the Pectoral Sandpiper was sharing the mud with, Nick is probably the only person who loves that lake.
I was working on Thursday but Mrs Caley and I found a bit of time on Friday lunchtime to go and see the Pectoral Sandpiper which had gracefully stayed overnight. Years ago when I used to spoil my own walks, I played a round of golf at the Oxfordshire. It is a tough course, far too long and difficult for my limited ability, and although I don't remember much about what happened, I do vaguely recall losing a few golf balls but to be fair, that wasn't very unusual for me. I hadn't visited the course since and had never birded (or birdied, I'd have remembered that if I had) there before. So it was with a little bit of trepidation that we strode out along the tarmac path that designates the public right of way through the golf course. I was worried because I know from experience that not every golfer is as good as Rory Mcllroy, and also that being hit by a golf ball can be very painful. However, I soon realised that the Oxfordshire, a championship course of high standard, was designed extremely well, and at virtually no point on the course, is a casual walker likely to come into range of any mis-hit golf ball, provided of course that they stick to the marked public paths.
The path weaves its way between the 17th & 18th holes. The 17th green is guarded by the lake that the Sandpiper was on. Players of that hole can either hit their ball around the lake, or take a shorter route over it. Judging by the amount of golf balls lying in the fringes of the lake, many have tried to carry it, or play round it, and failed. As we walked past the green, I checked our local WhatsApp group and was disappointed to read the latest message announcing that the Sandpiper had flown out of the lake towards a bigger one that covers more of the course in the vicinity of the clubhouse. I knew that the sender of the message, our friend Steve, was still there somewhere although I hadn't seen him yet. We found him when we rounded a small bend near another teeing-box. He was stood on a bridge that carries another public path over the bigger lake. He told us that he saw the Sandpiper fly from its favoured lake. He couldn't find it anywhere though so I decided the best course of action would be to stay by the original lake and wait. Birds have a habit of turning to favoured feeding areas so I hoped that it would find its way back. I scanned the edges of the lakes, all of which could be seen from the narrowest end where the path actually formed the top of the embankment.
It wasn't a very nice day, very overcast with a breeze, so making any small bird out at distance wasn't going to be easy. I'd left my scope in the car as well, because from the photos I'd seen of the Pectoral Sandpiper, taken by Nick the day before, had been at fairly close range. The first scan of the lake revealed nothing more than a couple of Wagtails, a small flock of Linnets, and an assortment of Mallards, Tufted Ducks, and Little Grebes on the water. I worked the edges agin, this time the other way round and again found nothing of the wading bird variety. It seemed as if the Sandpiper had indeed done a bunk on us. Our birding had been somewhat fraught this year, we'd dipped a few and even ones we've seen have been hard to pin down at times, although our recent run had been better. My third scan revealed a small wader almost at the far end of the lake from where we stood. It looked, at the distance, Dunlin sized, so I was pretty sure that it was the Pectoral Sandpiper. However, without my own scope to look through, I called Steve over and asked him to look at the bird through his. with the better view, it was clear that it was the Pectoral Sandpiper, bringing much relief to all of us. The bird wasn't easy to pick out as it fed amongst the rocks, and photography was really a waste of time, but naturally I fired a few frames off anyway.
We stood and watched for a while, willing the Sandpiper to walk closer to us but it shunned us and actually worked its way towards the distant green instead. Thinking that the bird would eventually be startled by some of the golfers playing the 17th hole, I went to the car to retrieve my scope. As I passed the green I scanned the lake shore and saw the Sandpiper fly off towards the end that I'd just left. My thought was; bloody typical of my luck, but also that at least my wife would get a good view when it landed right by her.
When I got back to Mrs Caley, I asked where was the bird, and was told that she hadn't seen it. Neither had Steve, and another birding friend of ours, Paul who had also arrived. I told them that I'd seen it fly in their direction so was surprised when it wasn't anywhere to be seen. Now I had my own scope with its 95x magnification, I could scrutinise the lake much more readily than when I'd only had binoculars before. I found the Pectoral Sandpiper again but somehow the bird had pretty much gotten as far from where we stood as it could whilst remaining within the lake, right under the apron of the green. It must have wheeled around and gone straight back to where it had been. A few minutes later it flew again, this time out of sight to the only section of the lake shore that couldn't't be seen from the path. This was getting frustrating.
We stood around chatting, migrated to the furthest part of the footpath that offered up the widest view of the lake but couldn't re-find the bird. Adam joined us, and at least improved our luck because we spotted the Sandpiper again in a similar position to where I'd first seen it an hour before. Directions were given out by way of golf balls, "It's by the pink ball", or "It's between the two yellow balls underneath the red marker post". Everybody got decent views through my scope so we were all a bit happier; if only a little bit. Pectoral Sandpipers aren't particularly rare, I've seen over twenty now, including a couple together on Port Meadow in Oxford once, so this bird wasn't a county tick. But it was nonetheless, a year tick, and one that I'd expected to get. Having said that, we dipped one, or maybe two, that were present at Staines reservoirs a fortnight before, so it felt extra good to have seen this one. What I wanted now was better views so that I could improve on my best photos of the species. Unfortunately the Sandpiper refused to grace my presence with a closer view of its own so after another half hour we gave up. I'd have to accept the distant view this time. In what has been a difficult year on a personal level, with birding more restricted than usual for us, The Pectoral Sandpiper was still our 254th bird for the year which is around 10 less than par for the year so far. Not tournament winning stuff but it'd still get us into the final rounds with a chance of achieving a decent score by the end.
I had an errand to run on Saturday morning which would take me pretty close to the Oxfordshire Golf Club so when Nick again announced that the Pectoral Sandpiper was still present there, I made a snap decision to go and see it again, hoping that it would be closer this time. A report on our local group said that the bird had been feeding right by the path where we'd stood and viewed the lake from the day before. I crossed my fingers that two hours later when Mrs Caley and I would get there, that it would still be as confiding.
There were no other cars parked so I assumed that we'd be the only birders, which can be a bonus since there'd be no disturbance to the bird from people already there. It's easy for folk, once they've seen a bird to remain chatting, even when they've been hushed while getting their own fill of it. I didn't bother taking the scope reasoning that if the bird wasn't close, then I'd already had distant views and didn't need more. I made a quick scan of the lake from behind the 17th green but couldn't see the Sandpiper so was even more hopeful that it was at the other end. I stopped momentarily to take a couple of photos of a Meadow Pipit, and a few more of a smart female Stonechat.
We reached the corner of the path and turned to walk along the embankment. There was no wind, so very little movement on the water at all. We surprised a Grey Wagtail out of the rocks so I slowed my walk as I scanned the rocky shore. There was little of the muddy edge along this section of the lake, and unlike the other sides of the lake, no golf balls either since a flank hid the tee box of the 17th and the golfers would aim away from this part of the course. At a slight kink to the right in the path, I suddenly froze. As my view of the rocks ahead opened, I noticed a small brown wading bird moving slowly. It was of course, the Pectoral Sandpiper, barely ten metres ahead of us. Now I had my chance to get the photos I've wanted. I motioned to Mrs Caley to slow her own walk so that we didn't alarm the bird. We moved to the far edge of the path so that we wouldn't walk directly above the bird in order to get ahead of it. I took a quick couple of frames.
The Pectoral Sandpiper was obviously well aware of us being there but appeared unconcerned and carried on feeding. I crept up to a closer vantage point so that the wispy stems of grasses didn't obscure the bird, and fired off some shots. The only time before that we'd been anywhere near as close to a Pectoral Sandpiper was at Frampton Marsh when one walked confidently past the 360 hide. I was the only person who had noticed that bird at the time despite there being lots of birders looking out the hide windows. The issue then was bright sunshine behind the bird which meant that potentially excellent photos were silhouetted by the harsh light. I adjusted settings then, and obtained some reasonable images after much trial and error but always felt a little bit cheated by those conditions. On another occasion we had stalked a Pectoral Sandpiper at College Lake near Falmouth, and had gotten pretty close to it. I had crawled to the waters edge ready to take some great shots, when a loud rustling behind me, and an even louder voice, announced the arrival of another birder. He boomed, "Have you seen the Pec?', and that was the end of that. The bird flew strongly off to a distant island and never returned to where I'd spent ages getting to. I was not best pleased with that chap, although we've become acquaintances over the years since, and I laugh about it now. But right here, and right now, I finally had the chance to exorcise those demons!
We settled down and watched the Sandpiper. We had it to ourselves which meant that the bird wouldn't be disturbed by anybody else passing by. Occasionally the Pec would stop and look skywards, and once it crouched down to conceal itself from any passing eyes above. It picked its way slowly along the muddy edge, sometimes having to negotiate the rocks where the mud run out. Getting clear images wasn't always possible owing to the rocks obscuring part or all of the bird, and I didn't want to stand up since that may have frightened the bird, and also because the already steep angle down to the bird would be increased even further.
For five minutes the bird was solely ours. In that time I only took around fifty photos, mainly because of the amount of time that the bird was obscured behind the rocks. A group of golfers were playing the 17th hole but I paid them little heed because I was so engrossed with the Pectoral Sandpiper. So the first I knew of one of them walking along the path to take the short cut to the green (because he'd presumably played a good shot over the water to the green, thus nullifying the need to play around the water) was the rattling of his golf trolley on the tarmac. The Sandpiper was, of course, also aware. I knew what was about to happen because the bird stood upright, and faced out towards the open water. When the golfer was ten feet away, the Pectoral Sandpiper launched itself off the rocks and flew to the other side of the lake. Our fun was over. I had managed to photograph the bird as it flew, but I had been sat right on top of it so only captured it from the tail end. There's always something!
I found the Pectoral Sandpiper again, in almost the same spot that we'd first seen it on the Friday. Of course, it was now fifty odd metres away so the views weren't anywhere near a spectacular. A couple of birders joined us. They were delighted when I pointed the bird out, but equally as disappointed when I showed a back-of-camera shot that I'd taken just minutes before. I took a couple of "habitat" photos and then we decided to head off for a coffee. As I write on the Monday, the bird is still present and still showing well to its admirers.
No comments:
Post a Comment