Handa Island, Part 1, 7th June

Settled weather was in and with a good forecast of a clear and sunny day we decided to get up early and head to Handa Island for the day. This would be our first visit for three years to the Scottish Wildlife Trust run reserve and it would be interesting to see if the number of birds, particularly seabirds, had changed since our last visit. Last time here it was noticeable just how the numbers of iconic species like the Puffin had reduced, a worrying trend amongst many seabirds. Handa is set just off the north-west coast of Scotland close to the village of Scourie in Sutherland. The drive from Boat of Garten takes over two and half hours but takes in a very scenic route once past Inverness. We passed Lairg on the way and reminisced about the superb male Ring-necked Duck that we saw there in February earlier this year on an equally gorgeous sunny day. We also drove past the excellent Pier Cafe remembering the very fine Sunday lunch and dessert that we'd had there on that day. Sadly it would be closed by the time we returned later in the day.

Ring-necked Duck, Lairg Feb 25th 2018

Once north of Lairg you enter what has been termed by locals "Mamba" country which has nothing to do with dangerous snakes but stands for "Miles and Miles of Bugger All!". The definition tickled me the first time that I ever heard it and still does now, I'm easily amused! But it isn't quite that bad since you pass some very nice lochs and hills on the way particularly as you forge further northwards. One such loch about ten miles before Laxford Bridge is a reliable place to see Black-throated Divers since they breed in the locality. So it was in a passing place by Loch Stack that we now sat and sure enough about midway out in the water was a Black-throated Diver. It was just idling away the morning and doing nothing spectacular but at least it was a bit closer than the ones that were seen the previous day at Lochindorb.

Black-throated Diver

At the northern end of Loch Stack the River Laxford exits on its short journey to the coast. As we drove past a gap in the trees that line its nearside bank, I noticed a duck in the shallow waters. I backed up carefully and there midstream was a female goosander. She stood her ground and probably either had a nest nearby or ducklings somewhere close by. Goosander's are ducks that enjoy fast flowing rivers to breed near to and usually nest in a hole in a tree or sometimes in a stony bank or wall. I used the open window of the car as a vantage point to take a few frames and then left her to it, whatever it was that she was up to.

female Goosander

We arrived at the ferry in Tarbet at just before 9 o'clock fully expecting to get on the first boat to the island. I had checked the times the night before and realised why we are never first to get onto Handa since we'd always turned up at 10 o'clock, a full hour after the first boat. So we strode confidently down to the shed that serves as the booking office, parted with our thirty quid and were then told that "there'll be no sailings before 10 because the health and safety man from the marine department was coming to check the boat over and pass it safe so we get the necessary certification in order to be allowed to sail". Bloody typical! We make the effort to get here for 9 and the boat won't leave until 10 which is when we've always turned up before! Could have had that extra hour in bed, except I for one never lie in but we could have at least spent longer exploring somewhere else on route. Still I would rather the boat which was a fairly new looking Rigid Inflatable Boat (RIB), last time we came it was an old chugg-a-long, be safe. Other folk were arriving to be greeted by the same news so we weren't alone and at least the skipper had sold us tickets which signified that we'd be on the first sailing. We also had to contend with some unwelcome residents while we waited since the entire harbour area was swarming with the dreaded midges. I had laughed aloud when I saw a couple come sauntering past wearing nets over their heads. They were laughing louder at me now they saw me scratching all of my uncovered extremities (and a few that weren't on show).

I had the good sense (not often you can say that of me) to take Mrs Caley and myself up to a picnic bench on the small headland while we waited. Midges hate the breeze and in that more exposed spot there was enough wind to keep most of them at bay. We could also keep an eye on proceedings at the boat from up here as well as scan the bay and surrounding coast for birds. We had the company of a Wheatear, a Pied Wagtail and a Song Thrush which were all collecting food for their young. A pair of Cuckoos called constantly at each other across the valley. 

Wheatear

Pied Wagtail

Song Thrush

We gazed longingly at the gorse covered slopes above the harbour to the north where a few years ago we'd had some extraordinary luck. We had been on our way to Handa when we heard that a Bee-eater had been found by somebody waiting for the ferry. By the time we arrived there had been no further sign so we boarded the boat and spent the day as planned on the island. I must admit though that I was twitchy all day long because I knew that the Bee-eater would still be around somewhere. On arriving back in Tarbet I scanned those gorse bushes and immediately located the Bee-eater! At the time it was only the second time that we'd seen one! Today the gorse was empty barring one of the  Cuckoos. We resumed looking out towards Handa trying to spot any Divers that may be on the sea without success. A friendly Herring Gull came close, probably checking to see if we had any food that it could pinch. Herring Gulls have a bad press but are really handsome birds and should be admired as much as any others.

Herring Gull

Finally the boat was ready, the captain had his certificates and we could get on our way to Handa. Another vast improvement that had been made was the provision of a brand new concrete jetty which would make embarking and disembarking so much easier. The last time we had been here we had arrived back to the harbour on a very low tide and the landing point was onto some very slippery seaweed covered rocks. Too slippery for one elderly lady who had an unplanned swim and a very distressing experience, both for her and the rest of us who had yet to leave the boat! The Sound of Handa was calm and the RIB sped it's way to the waiting wardens who would welcome us. It moved a bit too fast really and the seats face inwards making photography of any birds on or over the water very difficult. To be fair there wasn't many birds anyway, another indication maybe of the downturn in the fortunes of our birds, but perhaps it was just the wrong state of the tide. I did see Arctic Terns fishing and a few Great Skuas were milling around. The only usable image that I managed to get was of a swimming Guillemot but, by a small measure of luck, it was one of the "bridled" forms that have the lovely white line above the eyes.

"bridled" Guillemot

We landed on the lovely sheltered sandy beach after the 10 minute crossing and followed the SWT wardens to the welcoming hut. We've been here many times before so were allowed to skip the introductory talk and made our way towards the seabird cliffs. The initial path is very steep as it rises away from the shore to the interior. A fine male Wheatear stood watchfully as it waited for us to pass so that it could take food to its hungry brood. We saw it disappear into a rabbit burrow and emerge almost immediately whereupon it resumed its scrutiny of us before flying off to find more sustenance. 

male Wheatear

At the top of the climb there is the ruined village where over a hundred hardy souls lived until around the turn of the 20th century eking out a living from the cultivated fields below, the shape of which can still be seen today. We had already surprised, the benefit of being the first to walk through, a couple of Common Snipe from out of ditches that ran past the path and a Skylark very obligingly  perched on a grassy bank. I could see Bonxies abound further ahead!

Skylark

....to be continued....

6th June; Lochindorb once more

Having now been made aware (too late) of the Long-tailed Skua that graced Lochindorb on Sunday and Monday I just had to get back up there to see if by some chance it was still in the area. Of course it wasn't but you've got to try! We also wanted to see the Loch with the sun at our backs instead of it being in our faces as it is in the evenings when we usually choose to visit. To be fair it's normally raining, or snowing, so it's just nice to visit in sunshine! Plus an early start promised little or no disturbance so we were hopeful that the resident Black-throated Divers may be closer to the roadside. In fact we hadn't seen them at all on Sunday so it would be good to see them at all!

We were alongside the Loch before 08:00 and going by the amount of rabbits and gulls on the roads, nobody else had ventured out yet. We had the whole place to ourselves. Pulling into one of the passing places we found the Divers but they were way out by the far side. Looking through the scope we saw that the adults were tending to two small and fluffy grey chicks. This was very good news since the breeding attempts had failed in the previous two years. Hopefully these chicks will fledge successfully. We were about to pack the scope back into the boot when we heard the sound of a car approaching. It turned out to be a sports car with Dutch number plates and a "North Coast 500" (more about that in a later blog) sticker emblazoned on the door. Nothing too strange about that and the occupants had just as much right as us to be there. They waved cheerfully as they passed and we acknowledged and waited for the peace and quiet to return. We watched the car disappear towards the plantation and became aware of another Dutch plated sports car with the same door sticker coming down the road towards us. That was followed by another and then another and then more. In fact over the next hour or so over 50 similar cars trundled past. We were gobsmacked. So much for our nice peaceful morning by Lochindorb! That craze of "driving the North Coast 500" has a lot to answer for. Everybody has a hobby of some sort but it seems to me that so many of them impact greatly on my own owing to the noise and disturbance generated by theirs, whether it be cars or cycling or dog walking or something else! Eventually though they had all gone and tranquility was restored and we regained some composure and got down to birding once again.

We arrived alongside the Loch at the northern end and studied the birds there. It had developed into  a beautiful and sunny morning and the birds all looked absolutely stunning with the conditions lending themselves to some excellent photographic opportunities. We watched a couple of Black-headed Gulls preening and fly catching. These often overlooked birds were captivating in the bright sunlight and looked crisp and sharp against the still water.

An Oystercatcher dosed peacefully at the Loch edge no doubt as pleased as I was that the sports cars had left. Oystercatchers are ubiquitous in the Highlands and you see them virtually everywhere but they're a bird that I never tire of and they always offer themselves up for the odd photo or three. They look slightly comical and sound ridiculous. Perhaps I see a bit of myself in them!

The road, quiet again after the Grand Prix parade, was now being visited by families of Red Grouse. Unlike the other grouse species Red Grouse remain together as a family unit and both parents look after the chicks. The chicks were available here in all sizes with some just a few days old whereas others were almost ready to fly. We often had to come to a stop to avoid running them down. As I watched one family cross the road, the familiar Famous Grouse Whisky music reverberated around my head as I simultaneously rued the fact that so many of these birds will be blasted of of the sky by people with too much money and very little sense. How I wished that could be stopped.

We turned around at the head of the Loch and retraced our route. Apart from the "tour van Schotland" no other vehicles had been driven around the road and we regaled in our re-found solitude. We do like to have places to ourselves sometimes and that's one of the reasons that we seek out these quiet spots in the first place. We watched a Common Sandpiper firstly bathe and then preen in shallow water at the Loch edge. A beautiful bird particularly when illuminated by the full sun.

A cuckoo teased us by continually flitting from its perch on an adjacent telegraph wire to another slightly further up the road every time that we drew near before stymieing us completely by doubling back. I always struggle to get good shots of Cuckoos but remain ever hopeful that one day I'll get a decent image (I refuse to visit "Colin" the hand fed Cuckoo at Thursley).

We parked up again opposite the Divers retreat and noted that the adults were now swimming alone roughly (only) halfway out in the Loch. With the chicks hopefully safely harboured (there are a lot of breeding Gulls in the area) it was clear that the adults were going fishing. After just a couple of minutes both birds erupted from the water and flew off towards the other end of the Loch. I feel we're going to be forever thwarted by these birds although I was able to rattle off some flight shots of the lead bird. Divers look odd in the air with their wings set right on the middle of the bird. The neck is stretched out taut in front and the legs trail behind while the deep body hangs awkwardly underneath. If you ever see a Diver on land then they look even more ridiculous with the legs set so far back on the body that they actually struggle to walk. But in the water they reign supreme being able to swim and (as it says on the tin) dive with ease. Any fish within range are caught easily.

Naturally we turned around once more and headed back to the northern end in the hope that one or both of the Divers had decided to fish close in to the road. Needless to say they hadn't and we couldn't see either of them! Our tread marks were retraced once again and I took more images of the now wide awake Oystercatcher.

A juvenile Stonechat offered itself up for the holiday list by watching us closely from the top of a Juniper bush and we watched a pair of Mistle Thrush's bringing food in for their hungry nestlings.

Next we noticed a fine male Reed Bunting hunting out flies at the shore, readily hoovering them up and collecting them to take back to its own nest. I think that they're relatively uncommon breeding birds in the Highlands so it was nice to spend some time watching a bird that we'd wouldn't normally look at twice back at home where we have lots.

Further breeding success was exhibited when a flotilla of Mallard ducklings followed their mother through the still calm waters. The Oystercatcher had gotten bored and flew off exclaiming continually as it went.

We stopped at the bridge at the southern end and Mrs Caley spotted a couple of Common Snipe feeding on the muddy bank of the outlet stream. Before I could focus on them they were up and away leaving me with just blurry and partially obscured by grass flight images. We took a short walk into the moor via one of the tracks hoping for a Golden Plover but for the first time that we could remember we didn't find any. Bird numbers are definitely down this year.

We made another and last sortie along the Loch side and saw that one of the adult Divers had returned and was now swimming closer to our shore. Unfortunately the air had warmed considerably so the view was affected by the dreaded heat haze which renders distance photography useless. But I tried and failed regardless. One day I'll get it.

The last birds that we noted were a Meadow Pipit with a bill stuffed full of insects and an impressive looking moth species and a Curlew that came hurtling past, maybe it was doing the 500 too.

After a short stop at the cottage we thought we'd give the Findhorn Valley (or Strathdearn if you're a local) a go for any Eagles or other Birds of Prey. We had also yet to see a Dipper and the River Findhorn can usually provide these. Our recent record at the valley had been appalling and it had been at least a couple of years since we'd seen any raptors of note there. Nothing changed on this visit! In the trudge (it was hot) to the bridge and back from the car park we only saw a Raven, a Buzzard and a Kestrel! We dipped on Dipper too! I'm going off the Findhorn Valley big time. I had to fill my time taking more photos of Gulls, this time the rather elegant Common Gulls.

The only decent bird that I was able to observe at close quarters was a fine Grey Wagtail that adorned one of the bridge railings. Small consolation but we come here for the Birds of Prey and we weren't doing at all well on that score.

Heading over the Farr road we were dismayed at how the moorland landscape was being trashed by the installation of yet another wind turbine "farm". A vehicular access road had been constructed alongside the old road and vast swathes of the heather had been cleared to make way. The whole area is just a scene of devastation and the days of seeing Hen Harriers, Merlins and Short-eared Owls hunting here must surely remain firmly in the past and are unlikely to ever reoccur. Very, very sad.

Loch Ruthven is always worth a visit since it is a reliable (and very famous) spot for seeing Slavonian Grebes. The RSPB run reserve has become a victim of its own success though and owing to increased visitor pressure it's now no longer possible to sit by the shore and allow the birds to approach closely as they used to. I'm glad that we know of a superior site to see these stunning water birds where disturbance is much less of a problem. We left less than half an hour of arriving (we did see a pair of Slavonians as well as a couple of Little Grebes) owing to there being a noisy party of youngsters present. Yep, for those that don't me, I'm a right grumpy old git!

I want that one! 10th July 2018

Andy Pipkin the wheelchair bound character of the TV sketch show Little Britain is famous for the punchline "I want that one!". So when a male Little Bittern was found calling at a reservoir in Shropshire at the end of last week my mind (meagre as it is) immediately adopted the saying (see what I did there?). I couldn't get there over the weekend because of family commitments and work had to be done this week (yes Chivers I do earn a living sometimes) and I was eagerly eyeing up next weekend and praying that the bird would remain. Luckily (yeah, right) my job hit a snag and Tuesday turned out to be free day so I was able to put a hastily made plan into operation.

Leaving home at 05:30 we were reservoir side less than two hours later. The bird had been seen in flight at about the time we set out but not since although it had been heard calling. We chatted to a chap (well met Phil) and he said that he had been listening to the Little Bittern calling just a few metres away from where he stood. We took up a position next to him and after about 20 minutes of waiting we could hear the song of the bird. The song is described as "barking" like that of a very quiet dog but I likened it to the noise a record would make when it's played out and the stylus keeps catching on the last groove, "blmp.... blmp.... blmp.....", the "blmp's" repeated every couple of seconds in a rhythmic fashion. Listen here: Little Bittern song

There were other birders present but all were sited at the opposite end of the causeway from where presumably there was a better view. We stuck it out though until 08:15 when some shouts and much movement amongst the other birders alerted that the bird had been seen. Two birders who were stood along a side path that overlooks the whole reed bed were waving to the rest of the assembled and soon they were all leaping (or scrambling) over a gate in order to get a view. Obviously we had to join them and before long we were grabbing initial views, through an already focussed  and kindly lent scope, of the bird. I quickly found the Little Bittern through my own scope and left Mrs Caley to enjoy unhindered views while I snatched some record shots. More birders were arriving and in their haste managed to knock several scopes over including my own. To pinch another Little Britain catchphrase, "What a kerfuffle!".

A Little Bittern in a much bigger reed bed

The Little Bittern is very small by Heron standards and wouldn't even outstretch a Moorhen. Also by Bittern standards, which tend to be very well camouflaged birds, this male Little Bittern was anything but. The underparts are a rich peachy colour topped by a jet black back and a blue-grey crown. The feet are yellow and the bill and eye a striking red. The wings, when seen, have a conspicuous pale patch making them readily identifiable in flight. They clamber about the reeds using those big feet finding food items such as fish, amphibians and insects. "Our" bird had positioned itself on the outermost reeds and alternatively made as if to hunt (which it didn't) or to preen (which it did frequently). It was on view for roughly around an hour before turning its back on us and melting back into the reeds once more. The hoped for flight sequence never materialised but I'm just thankful that we had the opportunity to see such an elusive bird. A very welcome addition on the UK life list. Unlike Andy Pipkin, "I like it"!

As we walked back to the car we dawdled once more and listened to that strange song. Barking? Me? Definitely!