A busy week? Not really! Frampton Marsh 23rd July.

Well not exactly a busy week work wise which meant that I had plenty of time for birding instead!

Monday was spent at one of the UK's finest RSPB reserves and certainly one of the best places to see wading birds in great variety and numbers. Actually Monday morning was spent there since it so bloody hot by midday that we couldn't bear it any longer and beat a retreat back to the air conditioned car! Frampton Marsh sits alongside the Wash near Boston in Lincolnshire and despite being a fairly new reserve, it has only been going for just over 10 years, it is well placed to attract lots of birds both resident and migrant. It is a Mecca for waders and over the proceeding weekend no fewer than 25 species had been observed. The reserve is also fairly quiet and attracts only a small number of visitors during the week, no doubt partly due to the fact that getting there is somewhat of an ordeal because of the amount of traffic in that part of the world. Sometimes I think that I should have been a lorry spotter! We joined another 3 cars in the parking area and walked out into an already warm morning and it was only 8:30. The waders had been concentrated on the North Scrape at the far end of the reserve so we made our way straight there, ignoring the other hides on route. I was mildly surprised to hear both Reed and Sedge Warblers singing heartily away since at my local Otmoor they haven't been singing for a few weeks now. One of the Sedge Warblers very obligingly posed while chuntering away very close to the path. Although looking directly into the sun even I couldn't mess those images up!

In keeping with other areas of the country, Frampton Marsh is parched with much reduced water coverage, very dry grassland and lots of mud. Mud, glorious mud! It's what attracts the wading birds and we could see quite a few dotted around the shallow scrapes. I should add that the biggest area of open water by the visitor centre held (only!) a couple of thousand Black-tailed Godwits and a lot of Avocets too but we'd get to them later. We arrived at the East Hide and settled in to scrutinise the birds that were laid out in front of us. In fact a lot of the birds were laid out, laid down anyway, already suffering in the heat and there wasn't too much activity going on. We noted Black-tailed Godwits, Avocets, Lapwings and Ringed Plovers as well as a few Greylag Geese, which also had a Pink Footed Goose (sporting a neck collar) for company, and a couple of Little Egrets. Some fabulous looking Ruff in varying head colours were dotted around, post breeding now but still looking good. A single Little Ringed Plover flew in and promptly left almost immediately. A mass panic erupted as a juvenile Merlin came careering through, too quick for me to photograph (but at least I had the camera this time!).

Ruff

Ruff

Little Ringed Plover

Having failed to locate any of the less common wading birds we left to have a look at some of the other areas. In truth it was now too hot to go exploring too far so we ignored the sea wall and headed straight to the Reedbed Hide instead. The dreaded heat haze had reared its ugly head again too so long distance viewing was tricky and unfortunately the lack of water meant that most birds were further away than is normal here. Another birder told us that he'd just seen the reported Pectoral Sandpiper on the small scrape behind the hide so I asked him to point it out for me. I had already looked at the same area and hadn't noticed it, only seeing a couple of Common Sandpipers. His Pectoral Sandpiper was what I had identified as a Common but he seemed pretty sure. Although my wader ID skills are not expert, I am fairly confident of getting most of the more common species correct and I just wasn't happy with his diagnosis. The distance between us and the bird didn't help but in my opinion it just didn't look right for a Pec and since the bird bobbed its rear end continually I was pretty sure it was a Common even in the absence of a distinct white collar band. My opinion was also endorsed by another birder that appeared to know his stuff. I took some dodgy photos so maybe anybody reading this may like to offer their opinion too. We did have a small slice of luck when a Wood Sandpiper landed right next to the "dodgy" bird, absolutely no doubts surrounding its own credentials.

The alleged Pectoral Sandpiper. Not convinced and believe it's a Common Sandpiper.

Wood Sandpiper

Common (not Pectoral) Sandpiper left, Wood Sandpiper right.

The Sandpipers had disappeared behind some rushes so we resumed looking out onto the main scrape and at the masses of Godwits in particular. In amongst them we found Oystercatchers, a Common Snipe and more Avocets. A lady advised us that "next to the sleeping Lapwing there is a sleeping Greenshank" so I trained my eyes onto them. After asking for confirmation as to whether I was looking at the right pair of birds and receiving an affirmative reply, I proffered the opinion that the "Greenshank" was in fact a Ruff. Her reply was "no it isn't, it's clearly a Greenshank, when it stood up it looked exactly like this one in my book". I couldn't persuade her otherwise, despite the obvious differences in bill length, plumage, size etc., but believe me, as the photo below proves, it was a Ruff!

Avocet

Ruff! (not Greenshank, not in a million years!)

The mis-ID's didn't end there either when a chap loudly proclaimed to his wife that there were a couple of Spotted Redshanks present, "just look at those striking eye-stripes". He was actually referring to non-breeding plumaged Black-tailed Godwits. At least he got the Yellow Wagtails call right. I think that mis-ID's like these are partly fuelled by there being a sightings board on display to people before they go out onto the reserve. If less common species are listed then obviously folk want to see them and then misidentify more common birds in favour of rarer ones. Differentiating waders from each other is an advanced skill in birding.

part of the Black-tailed Godwit flock

We were advised by the only birder present that I trusted, that going to the 360 Hide would be a waste of time since there was no water at all in that part of the reserve and hence, apart from some Wagtails and Skylarks, didn't hold any birds, so we had another look at the smaller scrape where the Sandpipers had shown before and this time managed to find two Little Stints. Again views were poor, there is a stream in the way so a closer look would be impossible, and the resulting photos are rubbish too but sometimes in this game you can't always get crippling images.

Little Stint left and right with Ringed Plover centre

The ever increasing heat had defeated us, it just wasn't comfortable to be out in it, so we left noting a very unseasonal Whooper Swan on the way and some Wigeon ducklings which I don't think I'd ever seen before, Wigeon being fairly rare breeding birds in the UK. Neither of which I could be bothered to photograph!

Black-tailed Godwit

As trips to Frampton Marsh go this was one of the worst in terms of birds recorded, we only saw 14 species of Waders, a far cry from the 25 of Saturday, but you have to remain realistic, if we had seen half of that total on Otmoor or at Farmoor at this time of year then we'd have been ecstatic! 

A frustrating day! June 8th

After the brilliant days birding on Handa Island yesterday, the following day was always going to be a bit of a letdown. After that long and tiring day we chose to take it easy and fit some other stuff in like visiting the Walkers biscuit factory at Aberlour and Brodies country fare store (Mrs Caley's favourite). At least the shops would be out of the way (I have an aversion to shopping). All was calm until I received a message informing that a Rosy Starling had been seen at Spey Bay on the Moray Coast. We were close to Elgin at the time so didn't have far to go to detour and get up there!

Spey Bay (or Tugnet as it's known to locals) sits neatly on the banks of the Spey estuary and is home to the Whale and Dolphin centre (which I've never visited, Cetaceans are just not my bag). The Rosy Starling (new nomenclature, I prefer Rose-coloured Starling but Rosy is easier to type so I'll stick with that!) had been seen feeding on the muddy shore of the estuary so we set up stall and scanned every available patch of possible feeding ground but couldn't see any starlings of any description. The bright sunlight in our faces wasn't helping either shedding a really vibrant heat haze across the estuary. There were birds here, with over 30 Goosanders loafing on a shingle bank until one of those annoying dog walkers and their dog sent them all scattering, a good number of Shelducks and some Ringed Plovers amongst others. 

Ringed Plover

Yellowhammers sang from telegraph wires while Swallows and House Martins hawked insects over the river. There were Arctic Terns fishing too but the expected Osprey failed to appear. I continued scanning the entire bay even zooming right in to look at the Kingston side of the estuary (about half a mile away). I thought I could make out a small flock of Starlings in the garden of a house over there so we decided to go "over to the other side". This entailed a drive of about ten miles! Of course once we'd got there the Starlings had disappeared. It didn't take long for them to return though and for the next half hour or so we scrutinised every Starling that flew in or over but there was no sign of the Rosy. At least we had the sun at our backs now so viewing was easier.

Another birder joined us, also on the hunt for the Rosy, and we chatted about the local birding scene and I quizzed him about locations and other info. We discovered that Steve (well met Sir) had moved up to Nethybridge from Kent so we eagerly questioned him about settling in up here too (since we still harbour those plans of our own). Despite pooling our efforts and searching the whole of downtown Kingston (in truth just a row of houses) neither of us could locate the quarry. We bade our goodbyes and drove off to Brodies where we could have what turned out to be a (very nice) coffee and an (extremely disappointing) cake. Mrs Caley perused the overpriced goods on offer while I feigned interest (did I mention that I hate shopping?). My salvation came when a new message informed that another Rosy Starling had been seen in Forres just a few miles down the road. We were there less than 20 minutes later at the location given which was frustratingly vague (near the school on some road, I forget now). Birding with binoculars and a camera is always awkward close to schools, some people jump to the wrong conclusions so we chose to stay in the car and look from there. Driving slowly backwards and forwards raises suspicions too so we were fighting a losing battle! We noticed a familiar car  and drew alongside Steve who was doing exactly the same and with the same reservations. At least we'd cover more ground now. After a while we discovered a flock of Starlings dust bathing in a small park at the back of some houses but in the next half hour of watching they weren't joined by any Rosy's so we called it a day. Although we've seen many Rosy Starlings over the years they have all been juveniles in autumn and the last, in fact the only, adult that we've seen was in Woodford Halse, Northants way back in the Noughties.

We popped into Sanquhar Loch on the edge of town where Dippers had been seen the week before but of course there was no sign now. We did have the consolation of seeing a lovely Grey wagtail feeding on the weir though and I finally used the camera for the first time in the day (compare that to taking over 500 shots on Handa the day before).

Another (much better) coffee and cake stop was made at the Logie Steading on the way back to the cottage. I also managed to resist paying far too much for a bottle of Gin (unlike last year)! A drive around Dulsie to the bridge (another reputed spot for Dipper) turned up nothing of note except for a young Curlew in a roadside field. 

So the day was more than a little bit frustrating but maybe it was the antidote to the day before. Reminds you that birding isn't always easy and you don't always see what you want to. All helps to keep you in check!

Handa Island, Part 4, 7th June

....continued from (Handa Island, Part 3)....

We arrived at a small headland that looked directly towards the Outer Hebrides. There is a very small pond here and on one of last visits we had watched a Great Skua bathe in the peaty water at very close range. Whilst we watching it spruce up another had flown in and tried to get in the spa as well only to be met with great hostility by the occupant. We had had first class views of the Skuas full on threat display in which it raises its wing high above it, flashing the large white wing patches skywards, whilst emitting a really deep snarl towards its adversary which very wisely went to look elsewhere to have its own clean up.

Great Skua bath time.

"Go away!"

On this trip, however, the pond was empty and undisturbed but we did notice a Fulmar nestled down in amongst the thrift flowers. Like the one seen earlier this bird also looked to be affected by the rising temperatures although it wasn't panting quite as badly as the other one had been.

The bird that was laid on a rock ledge just a few feet away did look bothered by the heat however. The Great Skua resting there actually looked distinctly unwell with its head slumped down to the ground and its feathers all fluffed up. This was one very sick and unhappy bird. I feared the worst for it and wondered what could be wrong with it, maybe it had ingested something bad or came off second best in a dispute over a mate or a territory. In any case I felt moved to inform a warden of its plight later in the day and they said that they'd check it out.

"Poor thing"

Rather more happily a young Wheatear, fresh out of the nest, stood on a low rock waiting patiently for its parents to bring it food. It looked so vulnerable out in the open by itself but it wasn't long before it was fluttering down the hillside towards mum. Nearby what I perceived to be a young Skylark was partly concealed in the short grass and looked similarly unprotected. The Skylark flew quite easily away when spooked by a passing walker so I was worrying unduly there.

Wheatear fledgling

Skylark juvenile (I think)

The path leaves the coast after passing a few rocky inlets and beaches where some Eider Ducks loafed just offshore and Red-breasted Mergansers were fishing. Surprisingly we saw no Ringed Plovers during our walk, they are normally quite common on this side of the island. A wooden boardwalk leads back into the interior, over normally damp moorland and back to the ruined village. I say normally damp since this year, in keeping with the entire country, the whole island was incredibly dry and a lot of the damp areas had dried out. Hence the Snipe and Dunlin that could usually be seen from the boardwalk were absent. Hopefully they'd be breeding safely in a wet spot elsewhere on the island. As soon as you head away from the sea then you enter Great Skua territories again and birds are observed flying to and fro while others stand over their domains. Having taken so many photos of them already I resisted the urge to take too many more, but ultimately couldn't help myself!

Displaying Great Skuas 

In the middle of the afternoon the day was now at its hottest and we were both flagging a bit especially considering that our reserves of water were virtually depleted. As we approached the village, much to Mrs Caley's delight since the end of the walk was in sight, we could hear Sedge Warblers chuntering away in the isolated bushes. I listened intently to one of them because I thought I could hear some mimicry contained within the song but further scrutiny failed to convince me that it may be the rarer Marsh Warbler. Then, excitedly, I noticed four Skuas wheeling away in the distance. There is another species of Skua that breeds on Handa and up until now I hadn't seen a single one and I was, quite frankly, worried. But now at last I had Arctic Skuas riding a thermal and displaying high above. Arctic Skuas are smaller than Great Skuas and are much more dynamically designed with long falcon like wings. They are the jet fighters of the piratical bird world as opposed to the bomber like Bonxies. In the past we've had cracking views of Arctic Skuas here but that wasn't going to be repeated on this tour since the birds stayed quite high up. The photos below were taken on a previous visit to Handa.

"Light morph" Arctic Skua, June 2015

"Dark Morph" Arctic Skua, June 2015

We were glad to see the warden's hut emerge at the base of the slope since we were well and truly done in. Taking a final short rest at the last gate a light morph Arctic Skua finally flew over on a much lower trajectory enabling some better views and photos and thus completing another good day spent on the island.

At the west beach a pair of Great Skuas were stood looking pretty threatening towards anything that might encroach too closely. I'm pretty sure they are always there taking charge of the sand and environs. I imagine that the small bay must be a loafing area for non-breeding and juvenile birds.

We waited for the boat to be hailed from the mainland and a little later saw it approaching. We were soon on board and heading at speed, far too fast for my liking because I couldn't study any of the birds on the water, back towards the harbour. I finally spotted a Red-throated Diver but my attempts to capture any decent shots were hopeless. I fared a bit better with a lovely Black Guillemot as the boat slowed a little and my last shot of the day provided a bit of symmetry to the proceedings as another, or maybe even the same one as earlier, "bridled" guillemot floated past.

Black Guillemot

"Bridled" Guillemot

It was a great day out but Handa is hard work, it's a long walk if you traverse the whole island, so on reflection we considered that next time we'd maybe just visit the seabird cliffs and then return straight back to the ruined village and cut out the trudge around the west of the island. That way we'd have time to visit somewhere else on the North West coast, perhaps tripping up to Durness and taking a look for Corncrakes.

The End!

Handa Island, Part 3, 7th June

....continued (from Handa Island, Part 2)....

There were Puffins dotted around the cliffs close to where we sat so after enjoying the heart attack inducing pork pie, I set to work in trying to get some nice images. Mrs Caley was happy watching the seabird comings and goings and in the clear conditions we could both see the Outer Hebrides on the horizon, a place we'd enjoyed so much last summer and where we'd definitely revisit soon. A Puffin was stood on a nearby outcrop and was looking out to sea. When I looked at the photos later it was apparent that the bird had been seemingly mesmerised by a small fly that passed it by. I mused that (as I often do) maybe the Puffin was thinking "what the hell do those little birds get out of eating that?" and "give me a nice Sand-eel any day".

"Give me a sand-eel any day!"

The Puffins were joined at the top of the cliff  by the ever daring Fulmars and a few of these were already sitting on their nests (or what passes for a nest anyway). They also looked extremely hot, panting excessively in the midday heat (it had rocketed to a healthy 20 degrees centigrade) and one bird in particular looked as if it would rather be out at sea in the cool water than sat on the sun trap of the cliff face. By design we always choose a good weather forecast to visit Handa, obviously wind and rain wouldn't be at all pleasant in such an exposed place. The trade off with visiting on clear days is that it gets very warm and the temperature  seems to be increased by the island acting as a heat sink. The whole walk around Handa amounts to 5 miles too so it's important to take plenty of drinks and to wear a hat. I'd remembered the hat but we'd already drank most of our water and freshwater supplies are hard to find here!

One very hot Fulmar!

A pair of Oystercatchers scolded us as we neared a patch of sea thrift. One stood knee deep in the pink flowers whilst the other flew around us continually "peep, peep(ing)" at us as it did so. We couldn't see if they had a nest with eggs or some young chicks but guessed it must be the latter owing to the ferocity of the defence they were making.

Once we had cleared away from the Oystercatchers "no go zone" and they had calmed themselves another Puffin was spotted on the cliff top. This Puffin stood on his own little rock and looked to all the world as if he owned the whole island. Staring all around he appeared very noble indeed. Until he stooped to "smell" the flowers that was. Maybe his ancestors were of French aristocratic lineage.

Great Skuas were still bombing about all around us and one flew just feet away from us, the shadow cast and the breeze as the huge bird sailed overhead was palpable. But we were safe since the low flying bomber was merely on its way out to sea to harass some poor unfortunate fellow seabird.

"Bomber!"

As I've said before in this piece, many of the seabirds were still pair bonding and displaying prior to breeding, well behind on their usual schedules. Razorbills were flying up to the cliffs but instead of landing on a ledge they kept diverting off at the last moment and whirling back around out to sea before coming back again and repeating the routine. One such bird, presumably a showy male bird, kept coming in very close to us so I settled down next to the cliff edge (not too close though, the cliffs are continually eroding here) and waited for a photographic opportunity. Focussing on a bird that's flying straight towards you at speed is a tricky skill that I'm still trying to master but I was reasonably pleased with my efforts. On one sortie the Razorbill appeared to be targeted by a Bonxie which at one point was so close it could almost grab the tail of it's quarry but the Razorbill made a deft turn and the pursuer was left hurtling into thin air. If I'd had managed to get a frame of the encounter then I may finally have nailed an award winning image but, did I heck! Still I have nice images (but better memories) of the birds individually just not together.

Incoming Razorbill

"Damn, missed!"

Once the Razorbill had regained its composure and dusted itself down it resumed its flights around the cliff face and was joined by another, potentially a suitor. The two birds then wheeled around in unison and cut some rather interesting poses as they flew both side by side and above and below each other. I'd never witnessed such aerobatics before and was suitably impressed by the whole show.

Razorbills in formation flight

A Bonxie made another move towards the two Razorbills splitting them up again but the lead bird kept going and came back around several more times allowing me to indulge myself a little bit more.

I had secured some really nice flying Puffin shots from the boat out to Coquet Island a week ago (was it really that long) so didn't waste too much time in trying to emulate those here but the dark background of the cliffs made for some interesting exposures. At Handa most flight views of seabirds are of birds below your feet owing to the cliff top vantage point. We'd found a spot slightly underneath the Puffins flight path, a bit too far away, but enabled some level shots to be achieved as the birds also took to displaying. Even though I try to stay cool and pretend that Puffins are nothing special, in truth I can't resist them any more than anyone else can! They are brilliant little birds and the one that everybody comes to see when they visit a seabird colony. I could sit and photograph them all day if allowed but there were still other birds to (hopefully) see and about half the walk still ahead of us so we had to move on.

The path away from the seabird cliffs and back towards the landing beach winds gradually downhill but hugs the coast so, at least for the next mile or so, the sounds and sights of auks, gulls and skuas accompanied us on our way. The SWT are doing a lot of work rebuilding the worn paths by building many steps into the slopes and by gritting the way much in the same fashion that's been done on popular walks in the mountains. They appear to be utilising the rocks that are in abundance throughout the island to make the steps which certainly gets my admiration but I also have a reservation that the paths are changing the natural look of the island. Increased visitor numbers are leading to increased damage to the grass and plants so I guess that such work is essential. Also if there is a well marked path then people will be more inclined to keep to it which alleviates the disturbance to breeding birds that are just off it. On one section of the new path we followed a pair of Skylarks as they grubbed around presumably for grit although they could have been finding small insects that we couldn't see.

....continued in Handa Island, Part 4....