A Dodgy Birder's Book - Part 1: Introducing Alan Vittery

Some years ago I was researching the rare bird adjudication process for this blog when I came across references to Alan Vittery in the BBRC (British Birds Rarities Committee) entry on Wikipedia. I quote:

One of the observers who Wallace claimed was blacklisted, Alan Vittery, also contributed to the debate, stating that he had been informed by the BBRC that they would not consider any single-observer record he submitted, unless supported by a photograph.

This refers to a Birdwatch magazine article written by Ian Wallace, entitled 'Questions that won't go away' (2005 - Birdwatch 153:19-20). There are references also to three Birdwatch articles by Alan Vittery: 'String theory' (1996 - Birdwatch 47:13), 'A Single Mind' (2005 - Birdwatch 151:22-23) and 'Give lone birders a chance' (2005 - Birdwatch 157:22-23).

It seems clear that the BBRC had judged Alan Vittery a dodgy birder.

Back in October and November 2019 I wrote a series of NQS posts about the dodgy birder phenomenon, in which I mentioned meeting Alan many years ago. I want to begin by revisiting our first encounter...

It is December 1981. Sandra and I have been married just over a year and are in North Norfolk, enjoying our first birding holiday together. We are little more than beginners, so Norfolk's winter regulars are giving us superb value. Exciting times. We decide to try Kelling Quags, and our OS map suggests there is an access track off the coast road through Kelling village.

In those days I drove a 1972 Bedford van, which was based on the Vauxhall HA Viva. It was an 'estate conversion' with rear side-windows and a fold-down back seat - spartan, but perfect for two young adults and a black labrador. And I was quite happy to take that rugged little thing down all sorts of bumpy lanes. Which is how the Kelling Quags access track started out. However, it soon morphed from a bumpy lane into a rutted bog and we became stuck fast. Sandra didn't drive so was lumbered with pushing duties, but her then seven-stone frame didn't get us anywhere! We badly needed help, but no one was about. In the distance we saw a birder walking west along the shingle ridge towards Salthouse. Slowly he faded into the distance, and we laboured on...

Nothing worked. I tried to build a ramp out of random bits of wood and some old carpet we found somewhere, but the rear wheels just buried themselves deeper and deeper into the mud. Eventually we were up to the axles and I was a bit desperate. The short afternoon was heading rapidly towards dusk, we were hot and sweaty, covered in mud and now very tired. The birder we had seen earlier - an hour ago? two? - was retracing his steps now, heading homewards we guessed. How surprised we were to see him again a while later, striding up the track towards us.

'Can I help?' he asked. Or so my memory imagines...

I was 22 years old, this chap was in his late 30s. He had lived abroad, he told us, and was familiar with this kind of vehicular predicament. However, even the extra weight and muscle he brought to bear could not shift us. Not to worry though, he had a couple of tricks up his sleeve. His first suggestion was to empty the van of everything possible. Out came my heavy toolbox, the spare wheel, the jack, the ton of other stuff I used to carry 'just in case'. Obvious really, but I hadn't thought of it. His other suggestion was to deflate the rear tyres a bit. I cannot recall whether or not we needed to do that in the end, but it's immaterial - we were quickly out of those hellish ruts and back on firm ground. Our rescuer bade us farewell and headed off, but not before introducing himself. His name was Alan Vittery.

So my first encounter was with Alan Vittery the man, the person, not Alan Vittery the birder. His thoughtful act of kindness made a lasting impression.

In September 1987, Sandra and I met him again, on Tresco. I don't know whether he recognised us initially, but he did remember that December afternoon in North Norfolk six years earlier. He told us about a Spotted Sandpiper he'd found on the Great Pool, and we managed to see it later that day. Back on St Mary's, Mike Rogers asked me to submit a description and inferred that Alan Vittery was not a trusted observer. I really didn't know the half of it...

That 'dodgy birder' label makes its presence felt many times in Alan's new book A Date With a Bird: A birdwatcher's life. Alan is in his late 70s now, and the book documents a lifetime of birding - seven decades of it anyway. I first mentioned A Date With a Bird in this post a few weeks ago, and that a Kindle e-book edition was planned. Well, that has now happened - it was published on Amazon three days ago. 

Alan sent me a hardback copy, and I intended to write a post about it. However, having read it in dribs and drabs I found myself going back to the beginning and starting again, this time with a notebook to hand. This book has struck an unexpected chord with me, and I want to give it a few posts, not just one. Hopefully it will become clear why.

In the meantime I would like to publicise its availabilty. Firstly through Amazon, and this link will hopefully take you to the relevant Kindle e-book page. [EDIT: Link currently broken, presumably due to technical problems with the Kindle version. I'll aim to restore it when the issues are fixed]

In addition, Alan has told me that 50 original hardback copies are for sale on a first-come, first-served basis, directly from him. I can highly recommend the book in terms of 'build quality' as well as content. The price is £25 including post and packing, with all sale proceeds going to OSME (Ornithological Society of the Middle East). You will need Alan's email address in order to contact him, which I can provide via a direct message on Twitter (this link should take you there) or by text/email if you already have my contact details.

Alan has mentioned that a paperback edition might be in the offing at some stage, but that's all I know right now.

If the Amazon link takes you somewhere that looks like this, my work is done.

 

Finally, I shall leave you with a taster...

The book is arranged in month-by-month order from March, with an entry for every date on the calendar. Here is August 13th...

August 13th 1996. From a moving vehicle in Dornoch, Sutherland, Alan identifies a first-summer Laughing Gull on the roof of a mobile home.

Exactly ten years later, on August 13th 2006, Alan spots a Laughing Gull flying towards Brora from the south-west. It lands in the river-mouth and has a wash.

Classic dodginess right? Poor bloke hasn't even got the sense to choose a different date or species! However, both birds hung around until October, to be enjoyed by many. And both were last seen on exactly the same date! 

In part 2: Joy!