Mrs Caley and I needed a break. It had been a traumatic few months for us and the rest of our family and it was time to clear our heads. We wanted to go somewhere where we could rest and recuperate but also see some different birds to add to our year list. A huge gap in any year list of any birder living in Oxfordshire are the seabirds since very few ever make it to our landlocked county. Hence for a seabird fix we have to, naturally, travel to the coast. Usually we'd get our seabirds in Scotland during our annual summer holiday there but haven't been able to get there for the past two years. So we considered possible destinations for a couple of days away, the Bempton area of Yorkshire where there are very accessible seabird colonies, Northumberland and the Farne Islands which offer great seabird experiences, Skomer off the coast of Pembrokeshire but we felt that all would be very busy with other tourists and we wanted peace and quiet. Then Mrs Caley mentioned a bird that we both really like, the Chough, and Cornwall was discussed but the South-west doesn't have the other breeding seabirds. So we were left with one other place where you do get Choughs, seabirds and a few other "goodies" too, Anglesey at the top of Wales!
I found a hotel just a few minutes away from the RSPB reserve at South Stack in Trearddur Bay and booked up just a week before our departure date which also happened to be my birthday. The cost of the two night stay was a bit of a shock but it was a special occasion and I reminded myself once more that we needed the break. If covid has affected anything then it is the cost of staying away in the UK with prices of all accommodation seemingly rocketing. If we're going away somewhere then we always try to stop off at other places on the way so I hatched a plan to get some other year ticks on the way up. I calculated that over the next two days we should get a minimum of 12 new birds for the year and could, with luck, get 15 or even 20 if some rare birds presented twitching opportunities. South Stack itself would provide most of the seabirds that we needed and there would be other birds on the island that we could add too.
The first stop on our itinerary would be the high ground of the Berwyn Mountains and a place known as Worlds End. A single track road (road being a loose interpretation since some of it resembles a rough mountain sheep track in parts) crosses lonely and desolate moorland but it's a road that, for birders at least, holds great excitement. Well it does in the spring, when several Black Grouse leks are present in the area including a very famous one right by the road. In mid-June the Grouse will have stopped lekking and the females will either be sitting on eggs or tending to young while the males, having jousted with each other for months, will spend their days surreptitiously feeding amongst the heather or hiding away in the surrounding coniferous woodland. It was worth trying anyway since Black Grouse can be seen in Scotland in the summer months so there was always a chance of finding some. We had the moorland road to ourselves but our hopes of finding any Black Grouse on the lekking fields were instantly dashed when a farmer trundled straight through on a Quad-bike. We were luckier with a Red Grouse though which stuck its head up out of the heather to see what the commotion was about, the first year tick of the trip and our 195th species for the year.
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| Red Grouse |
We drove on all the way through the moorland but frequent stops and scanning didn't yield any Black Grouse and we weren't interested in walking away from the road because we wanted to have time to visit a couple of other places before heading to the hotel. We checked the ford, a place where we've seen Dippers, but there was no sign of them either. We turned around and on our reemergence to the moor, Mrs Caley spotted a female Ring Ouzel in an isolated Rowan tree, not new for the year but nice to see. We added a couple more Rouzels and a Mistle Thrush in another tree a short way away too. Meadow Pipits were everywhere as expected. Then as we drove slowly through the heather cloaked moor, it was my turn to spot a bird, and this time it was one that we had hoped for, a fine male Whinchat. The Whinchat was hunting for food in the heather and bracken so I stopped the car so that we could get a better view. Whinchats had passed us by in the spring when moving through our local area so it was good to get them here and thus save having to seek them out when they return in the autumn. Male Whinchats are very strikingly marked birds with a lovely peachy-orange breast and a bright broad white supercilium. A female was also around but stayed higher up the hillside and out of reach of my lens.
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| Whinchat |
Our trundle along the road on the return journey didn't yield any Black Grouse but we did see a couple more of the Red variety. We left the moor, filled up with petrol and headed the thirty miles northwards to the coast and to Gronant a few miles from Prestatyn. This part of the North Wales coast was virgin territory to me and unless I return to Gronant, I won't be rushing back any time soon. Gronant Dunes though holds a breeding colony of another species of bird that we wanted to see and one that would also be guaranteed to be there. We parked up in the free carpark (Cornwall take note) and tucked into the cafe "that time forgot" opposite, to be fair the chips were good although I was tempted to chuck a couple at some of our fellow diners just to see if they were still capable of movement. A short walk along the access road to a caravan site leads to Gronant Dunes Nature Reserve and the path to our destination led through a marshy area and then across some grass covered sand dunes. We stopped to admire a couple of beautiful Swallows, one of which had been bathing in the aptly named Prestatyn Gutter, which stunk, and I wondered how the bird could look so fabulous after taking a dip in the rank water.
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| Swallow |
Skylarks sang overhead and one hovered low enough to give me the opportunity to take some more, but slightly better than usual, rubbish photos of the species. The week before while twitching a Rosy Starling at Martin Down in Wiltshire, we were surrounded by Skylarks so it's good that they are doing well in certain places. Coastal dunes and grassland provide extremely important habitat for one of our most tuneful birds.
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| Skylark |
The designated viewpoint for the Little Tern colony is too far away for all but very distant views of the birds so we stumbled down the soft sandy dunes onto the firmer beach below and walked towards the obvious roped off area of pebbles where the Terns breed. The breeding colony is monitored 24/7 by the North Wales Little Tern Group and we were watched as we approached. A sign requests that people, especially those with dogs, stay at least 30 metres away from the nesting birds, most of which are protected by an electric fence but a few nest outside the colony palisade. We made our way further out onto the wide beach since I wanted to watch the birds fishing at the waters edge. The noise of a Tern colony is something that should be experienced firsthand since over two hundred diminutive Little Terns make a cacophony of sound with their endless shrieks. When a Herring Gull passed overhead, the entire community of Little Terns, or so it seemed, took to the air in an attempt to ward off the intruder. It's hopeless trying to capture a huge flock of birds on a camera, you have to see it first hand, but like the doofus I am, I tried, and failed, anyway.
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| Little Tern, (Gull deterrent detail) |
The Little Terns, our 196th species of the year, were constantly flying out to the sea to fish. Most were going too far out to follow but a few were taking advantage of a small lagoon of trapped water that the incoming tide was filling by the second. Here we were afforded better and closer views of the bandit masked Terns. Obviously, Little Terns are our smallest breeding species of Tern, only around half the size of a Common Tern, so close views are required for photography. The best place I know of to photograph Terns is the Ythan Estuary on the East coast of Scotland and my mind wandered off to those parts while Mrs Caley and I ambled and took in the scenery as well as the birds. The beach here is made of lovely lush sand but the outlook isn't great with a wall of wind turbines spoiling the panorama out to sea. I must ask my mate Captain Trev just how many of the ugly, but necessary so I'm told, windmills there are off the North Wales coast. It must be thousands. We sat for a while and could have been a million miles away.
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| Little Tern |
Regaining a grip on reality, I set about trying to get more than just record shots. We walked along the fast disappearing lagoon to where some Little Terns were fishing but frustratingly never managed to get close enough to them for any diving shots. The best I could do was take shots of the birds as they flew rapidly past or as they passed overhead.
There were other birds on the beach, a flock of thirty or so Oystercatchers were strung out along the shoreline and as many Cormorants stood a bit further along the beach although they were only viewable as heat hazed fuzzy outlines. Herring Gulls were frequent observers of the Tern colony, presumably waiting for any opportunity at stealing in and grabbing an unattended chick. Closer to us we noticed a couple of Ringed Plovers that scuttled along the waters edge before flying off after being flushed by a dog and its attendant.
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| Ringed Plover |
We needed to get moving so left with the tide lapping at our boots and returned to the dunes again. Back at the stinky ditch a Little Egret crossed our path before alighting on a wall next to a pump house. A Herring Gull annoyed in turn, a pair of Coots, some Mallards and a Grey Heron, all of which didn't appear to be doing anything that should irritate the Gull but I guess that the marauding bird was just naturally agitated by everything its area.
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| Little Egret |
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| Herring Gull |
As we neared the caravan park we could hear the melodic tumble of a Willow Warbler and spotted the source of the song, exactly where it should be, at the top of a willow! We stood and watched for a full five minutes before the Warbler gave up his singing. It had been a good first visit to Gronant which appears as a gem in the midst of a pretty grim area generally.
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| Willow Warbler |
Our last destination of the day was to a place that would almost be last on a list of places to visit if it wasn't for the fact that Holyhead harbour is home to a few pairs of one of our rarest breeding seabirds. The drive to and onto Anglesey went smoothly with fine views of the Snowdonia Mountains and the thrill of driving through the (almost) Alpine style Conwy tunnels. Holyhead is where you get on ferries destined for Dublin and that's about it (I'm sure there must be more going for the town but on the surface it's not evident). It's a typical small port town with rusting boats and ironworks everywhere, and with deserted and derelict quaysides. We needed to find the eastern side of the harbour and that feat took some endeavour since there is no sign posting. In the end we found an empty ramshackle carpark, serving as a local rubbish tip judging by the amount of discarded take away wrappers, bottles, cans and worse, which led right to the harbour mouth. Fortunately none of the fly tippers were present and we had the run of the place. We were in luck too and wouldn't have to stay too long since I instantly spotted two pairs of the lovely Black Guillemots on the far side of the harbour. We had our fourth year tick of the day, out of a hoped for five so not a bad return and our 197th of the year in all.
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| Black Guillemot |
Thinking the distant views would suffice and not wanting to stay any longer than we had to, we made to get back in the car just as two of the Black Guillemots decided to fly across the water and land about fifty metres away. One of the birds then performed a preening ritual and posed for some decent shots although nothing like you can obtain in Oban or Portpatrick harbours in Scotland. When seen well, the name Black Guillemot doesn't do these birds full justice because, although they are generally black, they also possess, in summer plumage, large white wing patches and bright red feet and the inside of the bill is also a striking red to match.
We were on Anglesey, about to check into a nice hotel with a posh birthday meal and drinks to come later and a full day on the island to look forward to tomorrow. We felt good.
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