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Tuesday, 16 May 2017

Happy as a Lark!

I was out early again this morning, down to the sea for a quick look and then a fairly brisk walk to Cogden and back. The sea was very quiet indeed, with a single Great Northern Diver flying W the major highlight, and the walk was no better. I did manage 2 Patchwork Challenge points via a lone Shag bobbing about offshore and a vocal Red-legged Partridge [Edit: 3 points actually. Shag is worth 2]. The beach was conspicuously devoid of Wheatears, which reminded me that we are now getting just the last dribblings of the spring flood. However, about half way along the beach I learned from a glance at Twitter that Portland Bill was hosting a Golden Oriole, which in turn reminded me that along with those dribblings you also get the occasional great big glob of quality. I wondered if one of those might be hunkered down on the patch somewhere...

It's 10:40. A text from Mike Morse:

'Possible Short-toed Lark on beach at Cogden east of line with boardwalk...have made six passes of the beach and can't relocate it though...if it's flown inland we're stuffed...'

I phoned Mike for the gory details. It sounded really, really good. Certainly much better than a 'possible' to my ears. A 'very probable' in fact, though I could understand exactly why he felt it was not quite claim-worthy. I arranged to head down there straight away. Although Mike needed to leave, I would help Alan search for it.

And search we did. Up and down the beach, walking nice and slow, several yards apart. Nothing. Eventually Alan too had to go, so I walked with him all the way to the West Bexington mere, a long way past my usual limit. We parted, and I turned back towards Cogden. Although I was resigned to the big fat dip, I also had a strong feeling that the bird might well still be on the beach somewhere and my intention was to try and cover as much of it as I reasonably could; the habbo is just so perfect for something like a Short-toed Lark. After a while I came across a Wheatear. Well, that had managed to avoid me thus far, so perhaps there was still hope for the lark. Suddenly a small bird flew from the ridge of the beach on my left, away ahead of me at a slight angle, landing 50 or 60 yards distant behind a clump of sea kale. I'd got nothing on it apart from 'small', so just trained my bins on the spot, more or less expecting the inevitable Linnet. And then I realised I could see its head through a gap in the leaves. Not a Linnet! It was alert and motionless for several long seconds, then seemed to relax, and slowly walked into view. Quite distant for bins alone, but no question, it was a Short-toed Lark.

Job number one: #recordshot...

Short-toed Lark, in almost all its very small and pixellated glory

Job number two: make the calls!

After what seemed an age, Alan, and then Mike, reappeared. I had stayed well away from the bird, but within a minute or so of my refinding it the lark had flown another 15-20 yards and out of view. I thought I knew roughly where it was, but when we tried to locate it there was no sign. Once again we began to comb the beach, and finally, finally, it showed properly for Alan and Mike. By now I was pretty rain-soaked, and left them to it. Mike too got a #recordshot with his proper camera...

Nicely captures the blobby black smudge on the side of the neck (photo: Mike Morse)

Arriving back at the van I bumped into Ian McLean from Seaton. West Bexington & Cogden is Ian's old patch, and he is evidently still intent on keeping the ex-patch ticks coming! Yes, Short-toed Lark is a perhaps overdue addition to the Bex/Cogden list. I am delighted to have been involved. Happy as a lark in fact...

I later heard that the little cracker was successfully twitched by several, and a lifer for at least one. I was chuffed at that too. Brilliant.

Finally, Ian M remarked that I seem to be enjoying a bit of a Purple Patch at the moment. I cannot deny it!

Monday, 15 May 2017

Patchwork Challenge 2017

Patchwork Challenge is a friendly competition based on points scored for each species that you record on your chosen patch. The commonest birds score 1 point, the rarest 5, and for birds that score 3 or more you get double points if you are also the finder. Hoopoe is a 3-pointer, so if I'd been competing in the Patchwork Challenge my thrilling encounter on 2 May would have earned me 6 Patchwork points. It is quite impossible to live a happy life knowing that you are missing out on such bounty, so of course I've signed up and registered a patch.

I've called the patch Burton/Cogden.

As I said, Patchwork Challenge is a friendly competition, so I was quite eager to see who my competitors in the Coastal South Mini-League might be. To give it some relevance I focused only on those patches that fall between Portland and the Exe (that's the eastern two-thirds of Lyme Bay) and which appear to be currently active. Starting at the western end we first have Chris Townend at Budleigh Salterton, then Steve Waite with Axe Estuary & Seaton, Brendan Sheils with Charmouth, myself at Burton/Cogden, and finally Joe Stockwell with Ferrybridge to Weymouth. Five local patches of diverse nature and potential, but all within around 40 miles of coastline.

As a keen competitor my next move was to see how my fellow patchers were doing thus far. I don't know them all personally but that doesn't matter; it is those all-important lists that I'm interested in! What had I missed during the first winter period and early spring as a result of my late start? What envious goodies did they have? But before I got carried away with close analysis I thought I had first better look at the numbers...

As of this morning, here are the current scores:

Patch Species Score
Ferrybridge to Weymouth 154 200
Axe Estuary & Seaton 152 194
Charmouth 105 126
Budleigh Salterton 97 113
Burton/Cogden 94 111

Having effectively started in late April it is hardly surprising that I'm last. Joe and Steve are miles out in front at Weymouth and Seaton. Given the superb mix of habitat on both patches this is no shock either.

Next then, what goodies? I thought I'd begin with 3-pointers or better...

Ferrybridge to Weymouth
Joe has a terrific collection: Spotted Crake, Serin, Red-rumped Swallow, Sibe Chiff and Cattle Egret, all 3-pointers. No finds as far as I can see, so no bonus points.

Axe Estuary & Seaton
Steve has self-found Sibe Chiff and Cattle Egret, so an extra 3+3 bonus points for those.

Charmouth
Brendan had a Cattle Egret fly past on 5 Feb, which means 3 bonus points too.

Budleigh Salterton
No 3+ pointers yet for Chris.

Burton/Cogden
The Hoopoe on 2 May earned me 6 points including the bonus.

In practical terms Burton/Cogden is in no position to compete with either 'Ferrybridge to Weymouth' or the 'Axe Estuary & Seaton'. Both patches are simply too rich in habitat and potential, and each is no doubt worked by several other birders likely to turn up goodies for Joe and Steve to add to their lists. So I shall set my competitive sights somewhere more realistic...

How about Charmouth?

Charmouth is the nearest patch to mine. Potential-wise I would have thought it is fairly similar. A lot of passerine habbo, a nice stretch of coast and not much fresh water. Yes, perhaps Brendan will unwittingly be a worthy adversary...

With 105 species in the Charmouth bag already I thought it might be instructive to see what I was missing. Well, I was in for a shock. Charmouth is absolutely on fire!! Brendan's haul predictably includes the complete set of regular spring passerine migrants like Tree Pipit, Redstart, Whinchat, Spot Fly etc, but also scarce ones like Ring Ouzel and Pied Flycatcher. Nice. But this isn't all. Sifting through the list I also found Woodlark, Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, Wood Warbler and Nightingale, Twite and Corn Bunting! In order to appreciate why I am so blown away I should probably give the reader an idea of the local status of some of these species. My old haunts the Axe Estuary, Seaton, Beer Head etc are not a million miles away from Charmouth, and I would say compare pretty well in terms of relative status:

Lesser Spotted Woodpecker I don't know any birders who have seen or heard one locally for at least ten years. [Personally I thought they were all gone from this part of the country now, so a drumming, calling male was a bit of a surprise.]
Wood Warbler Just one spring bird in at least the last ten years.
Nightingale Forget it! None, ever. They used to breed on the Axmouth to Lyme Undercliffs until a few years before I moved down here. Since then a total drought.
Twite Steve had an autumn flyover at Beer Head once. Much envy. Otherwise - again - forget it! A lot of E Devon birders would move very quickly for a Twite. And maybe some W Dorset ones too??
Corn Bunting An autumn bird on Beer Head once. First for the patch, that we knew of. Twitched from at least Exmouth. [They do breed near Dorchester, and are scarce visitors to Portland.]
Ring Ouzel Very scarce in spring; one every 3 or 4 years maybe?

You get the idea. As I said, on fire...

When I'd recovered from this battering of quality I had a look at the gaps. Again, some real surprises. No Pheasant? Must be an error. Also I distinctly recall Brendan tweeting about a flock of 16 Waxwings back in January, along with the #PWC2017 and #patchgold tags (a cry of triumph if ever there was one!) but Waxwing is a glaring gap on the current Charmouth patch list. Another oversight, surely? The only waders are Snipe, Jack Snipe and Woodcock. And finally, no seabirds! Apart from Med Gull and Cormorant there is not a single bird that you might have to look offshore to see. No Gannet, no Common Scoter, nothing.

Given its current amazing form I dread to think what will be found when eyes on the Charmouth patch turn seawards...

Altogether a very singular list. Perhaps in a league of its own.

Somehow I really don't think I am able to compete with Charmouth, and will henceforth ignore it...



Which leaves Chris Townend at Budleigh Salterton. Admittedly Budleigh does have an estuary and on paper might have a better list potential than Burton/Cogden, but we shall see. If you read this, Chris, game on!

Standing on Cogden Beach, looking W and contemplating the gruelling task ahead. #PWC2017

Saturday, 13 May 2017

The Final Tally?

After the morning's Pom bonanza yesterday, I couldn't resist another look in the evening. In previous springs I've sometimes done okay late in the day. It was worth the effort, with a distant pale phase Pom Skua past E at 17:35 and a nice dark phase Arctic at 18:11. So my skua total for the day was 15, comprising 14 Poms and one Arctic. That's a ridiculous 26 Pomarine Skuas in the last week, compared with my Seaton total of 17 in countless hours of seawatching across 10+ years! I am slightly mind-boggled...

Burton Bradstock, yesterday morning at 06:45. As you can tell from the old towel hastily fetched from my van as a concession to my protesting backside, I haven't yet sussed a comfy seawatching perch at Burton...

Friday, 12 May 2017

Sharing is Caring

I should definitely play my hunches more often. I was down at Burton Bradstock beach not long after 05:00 and, despite the pathetically gentle onshore breeze, was absolutely brimming with confidence. Yesterday morning I did an hour and twenty minutes in two bites, and my highlights were flocks of 6 and 22 Common Scoters. Poor. Yet Pom Skuas were reported here and there; Steve had one at Seaton finally! Even 2 Long-tailed Skuas popped up along the S coast - the nearest at Berry Head, Devon. I just had a strong hunch that there would be some more Poms pitching up in Lyme Bay later in the day, making an early start essential...

However, by 06:00 I'd managed no more than just a few Common Scoters and a Great Crested Grebe. It was very slow. I began to worry that if there were going to be any skuas I might only get one chance, and I didn't want to accidentally miss it because I was looking at Twitter or playing Minesweeper or something. A heads-up from the West would be nice. I texted Steve...

06:02 'R u seawatching Stevie??'
06:03 'Do I need to be? Is it busy?'
06:03 'Ha ha! Not so far!'
06:04 'Just doesn't seem as good weather conditions as forecasted?'

Steve was right. Hardly a breath of wind. It didn't look promising at all. And yet...

At that precise moment a very distant bird appeared above the horizon and climbed rapidly, coming straight towards me. "Is that a Whimbrel?" I thought. It then stopped abruptly, turned E and sailed gently down to land on the sea. A skua! Too far out to ID, but definitely a skua.

Some more tippy-tappy...

06:06 'Mind you, just had my first v distant skua, has landed on sea...'
 [note 'first' skua. Confidence!]
06:07 'Oh there's no harm in me popping down for an hour is there...'
06:08 'Let me know when the Long-tailed comes past!'

Ah, if only...

I kept an eye out where the skua had landed, and after a little while picked up two familiar shapes cruising E, low to the waves. I had to zoom right up to clinch them, but definitely 2 Poms; I assumed my initial sighting had been one of these two.

06:16 '2 distant Poms E'

Soon we were chatting on the phone, talking up the potential and generally being wishful, when my scope eye was suddenly full of Pom! Another two fully-spooned stunners were muscling E at no more than 2-300 yards! I rang off a bit abruptly. Brilliant!

Then it was Steve's turn...

06:29 '9 Poms on sea off Spot-on'

Steve was so excited he inadvertently sent it twice!

NINE!! Shortly we were talking on the phone again. All nine had evidently taken off, circled over the Spot-on kiosk, directly above Steve and Richard, the only two birders seawatching there, and then headed my way! To say Steve was ecstatic would be an understatement. I now had the heads-up I had been hoping for.

At 07:05 they came past me. Simply superb. Probably 400 yds plus, low to the waves, powering eastwards with seemingly no effort. All pale phase birds except one, which I guess was intermediate-ish, and I reckon all or nearly all of them had full spoons. In a previous post I promised birdy #recordshots, so duly made the effort...

I reckon a couple of those specks actually look Pom-shaped. Amazing. I can only make out 8 in the photo, but even that's a minor miracle.

With the aid of the technological marvel that is Twitter, those 9 Poms were tracked all along the S coast from Seaton, via James McCarthy at Lyme Regis, via me at Burton, all and sundry at Portland Bill, and on round past Hurst Point in Hampshire and into the Solent. I'm not sure how far they got after that, but they do appear to have stopped for a breather somewhere before Selsey Bill. It was great to be aware of the shared experience and, as I've yet to meet a birder who isn't fired up by seeing skuas, to know that a lot of fellow birders were on cloud nine this morning!

Something weird is happening. Has birding changed dramatically while I've been away, or something? Because I am seeing LOADS more decent birds than used to be the case.

Tuesday, 9 May 2017

How to Count Birds. Lesson 1: Flocks

There were waders on the beach early this morning. Quite a few. Three different sorts too. As all birders know, it's not just the species name that you make a note of but also how many. Counting is important. In fact counting is vital. Why? Because the accurate counting of birds is an identifying mark of the true birder. Witness the three seawatching buddies faced with a writhing flock of Common Scoter going past. The true birder will rise to the occasion...

- What do you reckon guys? About 60?
- Yeah, something like that, maybe even more. Derek?
- Sixty-seven.

Yes, Derek is a true birder. But just in case there was still doubt, he adds:

- Including twenty-eight adult drakes.

Don't you just hate him?

I am not a true birder. I am in fact Mr Ballpark. If a flock of 67 Common Scoter flies past me I am usually busy trying to detect the flash of white secondaries. My count will be extremely circa. Mind you, if the flock numbers 20 or less I will do the best I can to count it properly; I'm not completely useless. So, when faced with a flock of waders on a beach, what does one do? What do I do? Well, it depends, as the following #recordshots illustrate...


Ringed Plover. This was in a flock of one. Even I was untroubled here.

Sanderling. This was one of several. They were running about a lot, rather quickly, and I was struggling. Eventually I settled on nine. They then flew along the beach together of their own accord. Much better. There were ten.

Whimbrel. Lots of them. When I first arrived this morning a flock of 23 Whimbrel took to the air off the lower beach for some unknown reason and then drifted back down in the same area and landed out of sight. I thought to myself "23 Whimbrel. Nice. I must check them out later and see if I can get a #recordshot." Upon my return I found this lot, considerably more than 23. Actually this is only some of them. The others are out of shot, or hidden behind shingle ridges and bigger, fatter Whimbrel. Nightmare.

I thought perhaps if I got closer to them, the hidden ones would be visible and I could count them properly. I could see there were more than 40. I tried it...


As you can see, it doesn't help to get closer. The hidden ones just crouch right down, and your field of view is restricted to just a few birds at a time. Dreadful.

I know what you're thinking.
"Make them fly! Boot 'em! Get them up, UP! Then you'll see how many there are."

But it's not as simple as that, not when there are loads of them...


See? Awful!!

There had to be another way...

And then I remembered a trick I'd pulled in order to count a huge flock of Golden Plover back on the Axe. Get them up properly. Right up. Make them dots.

And then take a photo. Take a photo, blow it up, and count the dots at your leisure.

So I ran down the beach, screaming, and they all fled inland...


Exactly 60 Whimbrel.

So yes, 60 Whimbrel. And I'm glad I have the evidence too, because no one believes counts that end in zero. Obviously you struggled with accuracy, and rounded up. Not a true birder.

PS. I'm sure the following caveat is unnecessary, but just in case: before anyone comments adversely on my seemingly questionable birding ethics, don't believe everything you read on NQS.

PPS...

Not a Barwit. Rubbish photos can lie.

Monday, 8 May 2017

Vaguely Serious Birding and Record Shots

On April 1st I wrote this:

"In a way it's a shame that I just cannot seem to get the birdy juices flowing right now, but I take consolation from the fact that it has happened before; the interest has merely diminished, not died."

And yet here I am just a few weeks later, apparently a full-on birder once again. I must be a nightmare to live with...

I think it was the Redstart which got things rolling. And of course, finding a Hoopoe is basically a class A drug, and I am in serious trouble. Talking of serious, my birding approach has definitely gone up a notch. It is now somewhere on the 'serious' spectrum. But not fully serious. For example, I have begun to cart the camera around with me, but still not the scope. After all, the camera is a piddling little bridge jobbie that weighs about two ounces, whereas the scope/tripod combo tips the scales at almost a hundredweight. I will regret this decision one day. I have in the past, so I know it's only a matter of time before some goody slips through the net because I can't be bothered to carry a scope. Just this morning I had to let a trio of divers go - simply too far out for my bins. I suppose I'd better think about manning up before the inevitable happens.

Anyway, in the meantime here is a post about some not-quite-fully-serious birding...

I'm glad I've decided to take the camera with me because it means I can illustrate my birdy posts with lots of record shots. And 'record shots' is exactly what the vast majority will be. Here is about the very best you can expect:

Stonechat. Not a record shot. No. This is a portrait.

More likely you will get stuff like this:

A Hobby coming in-off on May 5th. At this point it is still well out over the sea. When it decided to make landfall it shot past way too quickly for my camera-pointing skills.

And some more:

Gorgeous Grey Plover on Cogden beach, May 5th.
Wall, Cogden, also May 5th. I know it's a butterfly, not a bird, but 'rubbish pose' and 'highly cropped' are both on the list of #recordshot criteria
Common Sand, Cogden, May 3rd

Which brings us to this morning. Yet another bright and sunny start to the day, with a biting NE wind. Although I was only out for a couple of hours or so before work, I wished I had longer as there was obviously a lot going on. Waders on the beach for a start, as well as passing by. Several little groups of Dunlin and Sanderling. Quite hard to count but I settled for 27 Dunlin and 22 Sanderling. Also a handful of Whimbrel; I ended up with seven.

A Whimbrel legging it, because I'm pretty scary and much too close for comfort.
10 Sanderling. In the true spirit of #recordshot the birds are not only small but also blurry.

There were also passerines. It's funny, whenever you've been out and done a bit of birding, and then later on read the counts of migs at Portland for that day - you know, '10 Redstarts, 15 Whinchats, 60 Willow Warblers, 5 Yellow Wags, etc' - it's so easy to think you must have been walking about with your eyes closed. I have to remind myself that Portland clearly acts like the spout of a funnel, and concentrates birds that would otherwise be across a broad front. Also, there will likely be lots of birders out in the field all day, going through the habbo like a giant flea comb. Whereas most of us are birding what amounts to the mouth of the funnel, for only a small part of the day, with just one or two others or perhaps on our own. So when you walk a mile of coastline and see a Whitethroat skimming across the sea towards the beach, and a Willow Warbler flitting through the sea kale, and a few jumpy Wheatears on the shingle, and a steady trickle of hirundines zipping past, and it's evidently all going off to some extent...well, you can safely assume you're going to see about three percent of it all! Or less!

I saw 7 Willow Warblers, 7 Wheatears, 1 Whinchat, 2 Sedge Warblers, and 1 Spotted Flycatcher. I would say that apart from one of the Sedgies they were all new arrivals, along with at least 1 Whitethroat. Add to that a few other passerines which made landfall too far away to be identifiable. So, using the Three-Percent-or-Less Rule, I can confidently extrapolate my counts to 230 Willow Warblers, 230 Wheatears, 30 Whincats, 30 Sedge Warblers and 30 Spotted Flycatchers. Which is much more like it.

One of the 30 Whinchats on patch today...
...and one of the 30 Spotted Flycatchers likewise.

Saturday, 6 May 2017

Pom Party

Everyone loves a skua, especially a fully spooned-up spring Pom. So it was very nice to see this tweet from Mike Morse early yesterday evening...


As regular readers will know, West Bexington is just a mile or two E of my chosen patch. So of course I was a little bit gripped. But at the same time I was rather pleased. How come? Well, I know I'm leaving myself open to accusations of being unbearably smug after the fact here, but I predicted exactly this scenario at exactly this time. Yep, Poms past the patch, late on Friday. Not out loud, not in print anywhere, but quietly to myself. And if my free time late yesterday hadn't been compromised by a prior engagement I would have been at Burton Bradstock from about 4:30 pm. Honest!

This was because several days ago the weather forecast indicated that the mostly NE wind we've been having for a while would move a bit more easterly on Friday, with roughly due East (and quite brisk) set for late afternoon/evening. I was optimistic of some Pom action, and earmarked the slot for a nice seawatch...and then we got invited out. But the forecast held good, and look what went and happened!

Although I'd missed out on that chance, I was aware that a small number of Poms had passed Portland over the last few days, so they were definitely on the move still. I therefore hoped that the Bex birds weren't the only ones to have been pushed a little further E than usual, and that despite the wind reverting to a rather unhelpful NE again, one or two might do the decent thing and come past early this morning. In fact I more than 'hoped', I was borderline confident, and set the alarm for 5:30.

Arriving in the Burton Bradstock car park about 5:50 I faffed about a bit trying to find somewhere comfy to sit down out of the wind, eventually settling on a spot on the beach, with my back to a wall. I then fiddled about with the scope, getting the legs set right, getting it level, and so on. Like an old woman. Eventually I aimed it at the horizon and tweaked the focus. As I did so a distant bird reared up above the waves. A skua! Literally the first bird I clapped eyes on! It banked slightly and I could see it was a pale phase, but there were clearly no spoons. Must be an Arctic, surely. Suddenly, in the same field of view, another appeared. Also pale, also spoonless. But two together? Could they be Poms? The birds were still distant, but evidently coming towards me. A better view of one bird convinced me that it had shortish, but blunt tail projections; it was a Pom. At this point another two birds appeared. Strewth! A flock! I quickly scanned left, and could hardly believe my eyes when the four became seven! All pale phase, at least a couple sporting full spoons. Absolutely magnificent! I heard myself talking out loud again: "SEVEN Poms!! Wow!!" and stuff a bit like that...

By now the flock was drifting slowly westwards and I realised they would probably be out of view before coming close enough for really crippling views...and then it dawned on me that the first two I'd seen might not actually have been the lead birds. Quickly I swung the scope well right and scanned slowly back again. The scope was suddenly full of Poms, all up above the horizon now, and quite tightly grouped. I struggled to count them. Eleven! And then another cruised in from the left. Twelve! TWELVE! I could scarcely believe my eyes...

When they had disappeared from view I punted out a tweet, plus a text to Steve over at Seaton. I really hoped they'd keep moving W and make someone else's day too. But nothing happened. Steve wondered if they'd drifted back S, or even gone overland. And then came a tweet from the opposite direction at 8:15: '12 Poms through Chesil Cove heading east...' It seemed a bit unfair really.

Steve reckons I've always been a bit jammy with Poms. This may well be true (and I'm always happy to accept any jam going) but in my defence I have to point out that this morning's jam was genuinely the result of a plan. Of course, plans don't always come good, but once in a while they do, and when that happens I am big-headed enough to enjoy taking credit! Mind you, another five minutes faffing and I would have been bemoaning yet another failure. Okay, it was possibly a little bit fluky then...

So, context: I don't know how often Lyme Bay sees a double-figure flock of Pomarine Skuas, but 'not very' is my guess. It's certainly my first anywhere. I once had a flock of nine, I think it was, at Dungeness in May 1990. And I'm pretty sure that is my only previous flock, with all my other Poms ones and twos. From Seaton they were very scarce. I had a puny total of 17 on 13 dates, with just 12 birds (8 dates) in spring. That's in about 10 years of sporadically moderate effort.

Which is why this brief little encounter with those absolutely stunning birds has got itself a whole fat post of its own.

Finally, if I'd missed the Poms this was my seawatch (05:55 - 07:25): 1 Grey Plover W, 3 Cormorants W, 1E, 2 Shelduck W, 4 Common Scoter E, 3 Mute Swans E, 3 BHGs E, 1 Kittiwake loitering, handful of Manxies likewise.

Yep, Grey Plover would have been the highlight.