Another mad dash to Dorset! 7th October 2019

American Black Tern (Chlidonias niger surinamensis), Longham Lakes, Dorset, 07/10/2019

This is becoming a habit! Finish work early, jump in the car, drive through horrendous rain and arrive in Dorset ready to twitch another year list addition. We did it last Tuesday when we journeyed to Christchurch to see a lovely Grey Phalarope and on Monday we were at it again when we travelled to the outskirts of Bournemouth and to Longham Lakes where a juvenile Black Tern had been in residence since Saturday. After perusal of photographs taken of the bird an eagle eyed birder realised that this was no ordinary Black Tern, of which we'd seen almost a hundred already this year, but an American Black Tern the much rarer cousin from the other side of the Atlantic! Only a dozen of the transatlantic visitors had been seen in the UK before including one at Farmoor in 2009 which we had spectacularly dipped at the time. Specifically though the American Black Tern is merely assigned subspecific status but regardless of that for my year listing purposes it would count in much the same way that American Wigeon has and therefore would be a year tick (and indeed a life tick as well). 

So after another testing drive down the partially flooded and very busy A34, M3 and M27 we arrived on a gloomy and rainy afternoon. We found our way to the south lake where the Tern was reported to be and stared into the murk. We could just about make out another birder stood on the far side in the north western corner which is where I knew the Tern would be. I scanned through fogged up binoculars and after a few minutes saw the American Black Tern flying slowly along close to the opposite bank. Of course at the distance and in the conditions it could have been any old sort of Black Tern but as far as I knew the American was the only Black Tern present at the lakes. We made our way around to the other side walking between the two gravel pits via a grassy bank. A Green Woodpecker, as they always seem to do, erupted from the ground ahead and flew quickly away showing us just its bright greeny yellow rump and a few Chiffchaffs called loudly from the bank side trees.

We turned back towards the south lake braving the dreich conditions which was no slanted directly into our faces and spotted the American Black Tern, the 269th species of the Old Caley year, flying just metres off of the reed covered bank. I watched the Tern and noticed a much slower flight compared to our usual Black Terns. The American bird, a juvenile, flew close to the waters surface and hovered frequently before dipping down to snatch an insect. I'm used to seeing Black Terns fly swiftly across Farmoor and there they usually fly at a few metres above the water before dipping to the surface. This American Black Tern kept much closer to the surface and appeared to travel much more slowly. Mind you that slower flight could have been down to the fact that it was flying into the stiff moisture laden breeze.

Mrs Caley and I reached one of the Fishermans platforms where conveniently there was a seat. The bin bag that I'd used to protect my camera from the elements now doubled up as a dry cover on which Mrs Caley could sit on while I geared up ready for the Terns next pass. The main noticeable difference was that the American Black Tern had dusky flanks and underwings, and uniformly coloured wings and back.  The Tern was keeping close into the bank and when it passed it was no more than five metres away which actually made focussing on it a bit tricky. The camera doesn't't like greyish birds against a grey watery background much and I recalled previous difficulties when trying to photograph juvenile Black Terns at Farmoor. I waited for the Tern to return to its starting point right in the north west corner of the lake and awaited its flypast. The drizzly rain wasn't helping and I had to use an ISO setting of over 1000 to get a quick enough shutter speed in order to get some detail from the images.

The American Black Tern, the third of its family after the European Black Terns and a White-winged Black Tern that we'd seen this year would fly from one end of the western side of the lake to the other before returning and starting the flight all over again. You get to thinking whether all the effort that the bird goes through is worth it since the insect prey gathered seems to be so meagre but the Tern never broke away from its feeding once so it must just be a means to an end.

I wanted a couple of shots of the bird twisting in the air, harder to capture but showing off its wings and tail spread so was more than happy to gain a couple.

The other birder had left before we got to the fishing platform so we were completely alone, unsurprising given the conditions, I mean who else would be daft enough to stand out in foul weather watching and photographing a little and lost bird. As it happens, actually quite a few according to similar stories aired on Twitter later that day. It was a treat though to watch such an agile and dainty bird.

After forty-five minutes of watching the Tern it suddenly flew up quite high and disappeared over the distant trees to the south and we wondered if it had decided to leave. However and just as we had decided to go ourselves it flew back in, dropping down from height. Its return coincided with a squall of heavier rain so maybe it had thought better of flying off into such weather. Visibility reduced to a minimum again so we hot-tailed it back to the car, not quickly enough of course because we were soaked by the time we made it back to the parking area.

We are leaving for a holiday in Cornwall on Wednesday and will probably drive closely past Longham Lakes on our way to a days birding on Portland so we could have taken the risk and left trying for the Tern until then. But I know that if I had then it would surely have disappeared before that whereas now I'd made the effort to see it already the bird would now remain for many more days or even weeks! Typically it was still there on Tuesday and by all accounts showing brilliantly in bright sunshine. But birding in inclement weather brings its own memories.

On a Whim! Stanpit Marsh, 1st October 2019

I was on my own at work and felt like chucking it in and going off on a twitch but I'm in business to at least survive so needs must and I worked like an eager beaver for the morning but managed to make it home by half past one. "Fancy nipping out?" I asked Mrs Caley. "Where to?" she replied. "Oh I don't know, maybe Christchurch?" I suggested cheekily. "Where's that?" she asked. "Not far!" I fibbed. Christchurch and more accurately Stanpit Marsh is just over a hundred miles from home and around an hour and three quarters drive. We'd never been there before so would be breaking new ground in our quest to add another bird to the Old Caley year list.

The drive south along the horrendous A34 was a near nightmare, at times barely passable, owing to several bands of torrential rain. The section between Newbury and Whitchurch resembled a river and I feared aquaplaning a few times. I was reminded of a time when I drove home from working near Winchester in similar conditions and came across a couple of Mute Swans on the northbound carriageway that must have mistaken the wet road for a river. Fortunately there wasn't the amount of traffic and certainly wasn't any continuous convoys of forty ton trucks in those days so myself and my colleague were able to herd the birds into a nearby lay-by where we waited for assistance from the police. As far as I know the Swans were rescued none the worse for wear.

The weather had improved considerably by the time we reached Christchurch although the sky was still rather foreboding. We togged up in the Stanpit car park and took the track out towards the marsh. The whole country's coastline is experiencing very high tides at the moment and a lot of the marsh was covered in water and the sea had even inundated parts of the path. We were looking for a juvenile Grey Phalarope that had been present for a few days and had been showing particularly well close to the visitor centre which we now walked towards. At least twenty Little Egrets were feeding in the shallow water by the path but naturally moved away as we drew closer. The marsh was alive with birds, hundreds of Redshank, a smattering of Curlew and Black-tailed Godwits, lots of Black-headed Gulls and many others but there was no sign of the Grey Phalarope in any of the pools and creeks. We walked on and momentarily got excited when we saw a chap earnestly taking photos of something  but it turned out that the object of his desire was another Little Egret. When we asked him if he knew the whereabouts of the Phalarope, he confessed to not knowing what a Phalarope was! Another couple approached and we asked the same question, this time getting the more useful information that the Grey Phalarope had been showing extremely close to the path by the visitor centre just a half hour ago. They assured us that if it wasn't there now, then it would return before long.

A tour group came walking along the adjacent heath with the leader barking out loud and clear directions to many of the birds for his followers and everybody else to hear. Mind you he alerted us to some Brent Geese out at the waters edge which I hadn't spotted while scanning for the Phalarope. A Kingfisher whistled past which got the whole group extremely animated. We walked back towards the visitor centre where we'd wait for the Phalarope to hopefully reappear. But patience wasn't required at all since I spied the little wading bird no more than ten metres away from the path and where we'd first looked for it! I took a quick record shot, as I always do, just in case the bird exited stage right or left never to return. The Grey Phalarope notched the Old Caley year list up to #268.

juvenile Grey Phalarope, Stanpit Marsh, Dorset, 01/10/2019

In my experience Grey Phalaropes are very confiding in nature and will often feed quite happily within reach of their onlookers and this one was no different. We positioned ourselves at the edge of the path and watched as the Phalarope edged closer and closer to us. It was really nice to see one swimming about a vegetated marsh rather than our usual views of them swimming alongside the concrete apron of an inland reservoir such as Farmoor. The more natural setting amplified the pleasure felt in seeing such a lovely little bird. And of course, the photographic opportunities were much better since the bird was set in amongst natural grass and plants rather than algae covered concrete!

At times the dainty and beautifully plumaged bird was just metres away and at one point I had to back off in order to get the lens to focus. We even had some sunny periods too in which to enjoy the bird, a far cry from the awful weather that we'd driven through on our way to see it.

The juvenile Grey Phalarope very busily fed on insects and flies mainly garnered from the surface and sometimes from the plants that it swam through. At times it upended in Mallard fashion to grab an underwater titbit.

For the next fifteen minutes or so I took many photos of the Phalarope until, while I was looking at some of the images, it suddenly flew off calling. In fact everything on the marsh flew off with alarm but I never saw whatever the threat was.

We were entertained whilst the birds were gone by a cute little Robin that seemed to demand food from us. Unfortunately I didn't have any to offer though so tried to make amends by scuffing up some mud in an attempt to disturb some invertebrates for it. The Robin duly pounced immediately on the disturbed earth and looked content enough.

We waited in the same spot for maybe another ten minutes and then a few Black-headed Gulls returned to the pools. It wasn't long before I noticed the Phalarope flying quickly back towards us but it landed on a strip go grass about 50 metres away. It was obvious by the fact that it was swimming ever closer that it wanted to get back to the shallower water by the path and soon it took to flight again, this time setting down much closer. I managed to grab a few flight shots but only one was any good.

The Phalarope was so photogenic that virtually all of the photos were, unusually by my own average standards, keepers! I could easily have inserted a hundred into this write up but have somehow restricted myself to just twenty or so. The reasonably flat and calm water allowed for many reflective poses.

After showing so well for nearly an hour in all the Grey Phalarope was startled, along with most of the other birds, once more and this time I could see the cause of the consternation as an Osprey flew over the outer reedbeds. Obviously birds haven't done their homework since if they had they'd know that Ospreys are fish specialists and don't usually chase after other birds for food. But I guess any raptor shaped bird in the sky gets the others going. The Osprey didn't linger either, flying straight through over the marsh.

Osprey

It was time to go anyway, we had got our year tick and I'd obtained my best set of Grey Phalarope photos ever and one of my best sets of the year so far. On our way back to the car I took a few hurried shots of some of the other birds that were on offer.

Black-tailed Godwit

Little Egret

Mallard & Grey Phalarope (showing how small the wading bird really is!)

Wigeon

We ended the day by having a fine fish and chip supper in the marvellously named Cliffhanger Cafe at nearby Highcliffe. As we ate the rain resumed again but at least we were in the dry. Indeed we'd been very lucky to pick a window in the weather to watch the Phalarope. 

Storker! 9th June 2019

We could see a little bit of blue sky this morning! A tiny speck of it through the clouds but, yes you've guessed it, it was still raining but at least, instead of the torrential downpours that we'd become accustomed to lately, it was only a light drizzle. By the time we had togged up ready to go out though the rain had increased in intensity again and we watched it hammer against the cottage windows. If we were living here then it would be a Sunday morning spent doing very little but this was a holiday so we had to get out. Lochindorb again then!

Remarkably Lochindorb was decked out in bright sunshine when we arrived, although it didn't last long. This would be a morning of on and off showery weather interspersed with sunny periods but the afternoon would revert to type and heavy rain would return once more.  We approached the loch from the Grantown side for a change and stopped to admire the colony of Common Gulls that nest on the moorland by the road. Around 100 pairs of these handsome Gulls breed here and take advantage of the numerous road killed rabbits in the area although sadly a few get caught out in their pursuit of an easy meal and end up as dinner themselves.

Common Gull

We drove around the loch noting the now familiar birds, a Common Sandpiper with two chicks, a Curlew with one and Lapwings with none. I pulled up to chat with a dear old guy that we'd met a few days earlier and listened to his stories of his travels around Northern Scotland in his camper van. A wildlife tour guide pulled up alongside and asked if Lochindorb's star residents were on view so I duly pointed them out to him. Since learning of where the nest was located they were now easy to find. He had two guests with him and one of them pointed to a raptor that had appeared over the ridge behind us, "is that a buzzard?" he asked of his guide. "Oh yes, it is alright, we get lots of those here" was his guides reply. I watched the bird of prey approach a little closer and suggested, "I'm sorry but that bird is a Golden Eagle!". The guide was flabbergasted and quickly tried to cover his tracks by making up all sorts of excuses to cover his embarrassment. I reached for my camera to get a photo of the Eagle, the white tail with a black terminal band denoting it as an immature bird, and grabbed empty air. I'd left the camera in the car! Not quite so cool then. Despite running to the car to fetch the camera, by the time I'd retrieved it the Golden eagle had of course disappeared back over the ridge and it didn't reappear.

Common Sandpiper chick (top), adult (bottom)

While we were stood chewing the fat, our new found friend told us that he'd considered using the guide for a day or two but had now changed his mind but asked if I'd be available! Ha ha, maybe a future career? With my people skills probably not I think!  A message via the phone informed us that a Black Stork had been found at Findhorn Bay, presumably the one that had been seen on two days at Strathbeg last week and which we'd missed on Friday. We were only 25 miles away so, after a quick goodbye, jumped in the car and made our way northwards. Having already been to the bay during the week before we knew exactly where to go this time and in less than 45 minutes were joining the three other birders already on site. Twitching can be mad up here!

As expected though there was no sign of the Stork anywhere out on the bay. That wasn't to say it wasn't there though, Findhorn Bay is huge and there are lots of hidden creeks where the Stork could be feeding. One of the other birders was a friend, Steve, that we'd met a couple of years before. He has already done what we aim to do one day and has moved up to Nethybridge from the south. Assuredly he says he has no regrets whatsoever about making the move. Steve is a fine birder and he nudged our year list up to #236 when he spotted the long staying Iceland Gull about 400 metres away! With my scope on full 75x zoom the view was good enough to ratify the ID. We saw the Spoonbill fly past at some distance too but the Black Stork was still staying hidden. It was definitely still around though since the original finder had remained on site and he'd not seen it fly off. After about an hour the same guy announced "it's flying" and sure enough the Black Stork was flying along the distant river harassed by Gulls as it went. Fortunately it landed again and you could just about make out its head as it worked its way along one of the channels. Bird #237 and our third ever Black Stork after ones at Rugby and a (self found) flyover bird at Dungeness in August 2015.

Happy that we'd added another couple of birds to our year list we decided a coffee was in order so left Steve and the other chap to it. The weather was still very changeable, sunny one minute then pelting it down the next and we got semi-soaked just getting from the car and into our chosen cafe. The coffee helped but despite being delighted at getting a couple of "bonus" birds in the Black Stork and Iceland Gull we weren't entirely satisfied with our views. Birdguides was still reporting the Black Stork as being present and also as showing well so we thought that we may as well return to Findhorn Bay and have another look in the hope that the bird had indeed come into closer range.

There were a few more birders present now although still only a handful. Twitches in Scotland are not a bit like those down south. Steve was still there and as I said hello he pointed out onto the marsh. The tide had come sweeping in during our absence flooding the bay and leaving dry ground only at this southern edge. Just a few hundred metres away stood the Black Stork hunched up against the drizzle.

Black Stork, Findhorn Bay 09/06/2019

A path leads away around the edge of the bay and after getting the approval of my fellow watchers and leaving Mrs Caley at the viewpoint I stealthily made my way along the path to get closer to the Stork. The long-legged bird appeared to be almost entirely disinterested in my presence and hardly moved. I made it to about fifty metres from the Stork and settled down on the damp grass and took some photos. It was raining harder again and I was getting soaked for what seemed like the umpteenth time on this trip so I didn't linger for long. The images reflect the damp conditions.

When I reached the viewpoint the Black Stork was still in the same spot so it had clearly been unaffected by me getting that bit closer. But as we bade our goodbyes to the few birders left, they are clearly more used to standing out in the rain than we are, the Black Stork began feeding again and moved slowly away down one of the channels that cross the marsh. We left for our temporary home back in Carrbridge, driving along roads that resembled rivers since the weather had really closed in over the Dava Moorland. When will this rain ever stop?!