This post has taken an age to write, and before it gets going I just want
briefly to say why. In a UK birding context alone,
A Date With a Bird documents many sightings which will provoke a
raised eyebrow in even the most credulous reader. It would be all too easy to
focus solely upon those records and thereby add fuel to the 'dodgy birder'
fire, but I am at pains to avoid any such possibility. In sending me a copy of
his book and agreeing to my request to write about it, Alan Vittery invested
in me a measure of trust, and I have no intention of betraying it by stitching
him up. At the same time, I wish to be candid. I am not a credulous reader,
and Alan's book has worked my eyebrows pretty hard. In part 2 I listed a few
examples of birdy joy resulting from a thrilling find or exciting passage
movements. Believe me, they barely scratch the surface! However, I hope I am
open-minded enough to see the bigger picture that this
fascinating book paints...
_____________________________________________
So, then. Mistrust...
'I have been informed via a local recorder that the British Birds Rarities
Committee refuses to consider my 2003 Fea's Petrel record for Brora,
or any other single-observer record from me unsupported by a photograph.'
Thus begins an open letter to the BBRC from Alan Vittery, as published in the
article 'A Single Mind' in the January 2005 edition of
Birdwatch magazine. The bird in question features also on p127
of A Date With a Bird, in the entry for 29th August:
'In 2003, after 2 Cory's Shearwaters had passed, a
Fea's Petrel flew slowly north-east, very close in, with that
exaggeratedly looping flight action which seems to take it almost back to
its point of departure. I later discovered the same bird had been seen off
Fife Ness and then reached North Ronaldsay in the Orkneys, yet the BBRC,
cutting off their nose to spite my face, refused to acknowledge it had also
been seen from Brora!'
The Birdwatch article adds further details. For example, that
rather than driving north to the next headland for another look at this
'close-in gem' as he puts it, Alan had gone home to telephone observers in
Caithness and on the north coast of Sutherland to alert them to its approach,
and that the first he had known of the bird's appearance at other locations
was from the recorder himself when Alan later rang him about it.
This one bird neatly illustrates an unhappy thread which runs right through
Alan Vittery's book: the evident mistrust of his sightings...
Having taken up birdwatching in 1951 at the age of seven, it became the
raison d'etre of his life, dictating his choice of careers and
retirement addresses. Imagine what a foundation of foreign living and birding
in the 1960s and '70s would do, not just for your familiarity with species
very rare in Britain, but also for your approach to the hobby in your home
country. Is it any wonder that Alan chose to plough his own furrow, shunning
crowds and the burgeoning twitcher ethos? I guess it would be safe to say that
AV has not been a part of the contemporary birding 'scene' since his youth.
So, having chalked up 70 years of largely pioneering-type birding, and by his
own estimates 100,000+ hours in the field, is it surprising that the man has
likewise tallied a huge number of rarities? Obviously not. But his solo
approach has undoubtedly contributed to the plague of mistrust. In the book's
introduction, Alan writes:
'Seemingly suspected by my doubters of 'seeing too much', I am a victim of
my own success.'
Earlier, in the book's preface, we get some idea of the motivation behind its
publication:
'As one enters the twilight of life, thoughts turn to the practical.'
And then, after admitting that the nomadic nature of his life perhaps reduces
the value of his records in terms of monitoring a single location over many years, he
writes...
'Nevertheless, I have made major discoveries in several little-known
countries and even some British 'firsts' will die with me unless I publish
them now. Some of these are almost certainly indicators of new trends in our
rapidly changing climate, further emphasised by several extraordinary (but
new norm?) sightings in southern Portugal in the last four years.'
So. Here we have a serious birdwatcher who has dedicated a very large portion
of his life to the hobby, and yet is forced to operate 'outside the system'
because he is not trusted. I find this immensely sad. Alan Vittery is
clearly a skilled, knowledgeable, experienced, very sharp observer. Reading
between the lines, to me his integrity is obvious. This is not a man who makes
stuff up or embellishes a description with details that...er...would have been
nice to see.
I have written previously of meeting Alan on Tresco in 1987, and how that
encounter led to my seeing a Spotted Sandpiper which he had found on
the Great Pool. And how Mike Rogers asked me to submit a description of the
bird because Alan Vittery was dodgy. In the cold light of 2021 I have to ask
myself what exactly Mike meant. Did he mean that AV had misidentified a
Common Sand? No. Because it seems Mike trusted my skills sufficiently
to believe that the bird was indeed a Spotted Sand. Rather I suspect
Mike meant that any description from AV - no matter how diagnostically complete - would get nowhere without verification from another observer. Just
think about the implications of that...
I have tried hard to put myself in Alan Vittery's shoes. He is all too aware
of how he is regarded by the birding 'establishment', but to some extent
downplays the consequent effect upon himself, instead lamenting how the
official record is now somewhat impoverished by the absence of his records.
However, I do not think many readers will be fooled by this seemingly
unemotional, matter-of-fact view...
Ask yourself: how would you feel to come one day to the horrible
realisation that people didn't trust your sightings? How would you feel
to have what is surely a watertight description rejected, with no explanation
as to why? How would you feel to be told that basically your records
won't even be considered without photographic evidence or the corroboration of
another observer? Personally - and this is an understatement - I would find it
hurtful. Anyone would. And no amount of shoulder-shrugging matter-of-factness
will persuade me otherwise. Which is why, as I read
A Date With a Bird, I was not surprised to see the hurt showing on occasion. How could it not?
I'm not going to make a big deal of it, because the main thrust of the book is
essentially a celebration of a lifetime's birdwatching adventures, and I don't
wish to detract from that too much. But Alan Vittery's book has had a profound
effect on how I view so-called dodgy birders going forward - a subject I want
to address in a future post.
In the meantime, allow me to test your eyebrows...
During Alan's 19 years in Sutherland, seawatching (his 'addiction'!) features
prominently, and many epic seawatches are documented in the pages of this
book. Rarity-wise, among the highlights are Giant Petrel (twice),
Crested Auklet (three times), a Cassin's Auklet, and a putative
Short-tailed Shearwater. Incidentally, both auklet spp are
illustrated by notes and sketches. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind
that Alan has not invented these birds, and is convinced of their veracity.
And as far as the integrity of this book is concerned, to me that is all that
matters.
One type of dodginess which can be a trap for the unwary is the inability to
let a bird go. You know what I mean. You didn't get enough on it
for a solid identification, but just force it into a box regardless. Is that
Alan Vittery? Have decades of solo birding sabotaged his self-appraisal system? No, and no again. I don't think so. In one account he relates how he lets a probable
Bonelli's Warbler go because he cannot clinch it, and in another he
withdraws a claimed Lanceolated Warbler because he realises he's made a
mistake.
As I said at the beginning, this post has taken a long time to write. There
have been a couple of drafts, and much tweaking. A better, more succinct
writer would skillfully have persuaded you to read A Date With a Bird, but I hope you
do anyway because the book deserves a wide and thoughtful audience. I will
leave you with a final quote. Not from the book, but from one of its readers,
a bloke called Ian Wallace. Ian Wallace (DIMW to many) is a birder whose
enthusiastic writing has inspired me through the years. Interestingly, he too has been judged a dodgy birder....
This is his take on A Date With a Bird:
”A Date with a Bird” came yesterday and I have not been able to put it down.
So total thanks and frequent cheers . . . it really is a splendid romp with
Vittery spirit and effort, hence avian harvest fully distilled and
intoxicating. And as a personal statement about birding ethos like no other
that I can recall, except some of my own logs and note files - to which it is
sending me to check like experiences and attitudes . . . constantly!
Do let me know how other readers react to its freedom of perceptions, so
refreshing compared to e.g. the Jan 21 issue of ‘British Birds’ with ever more
bureaucratic nitpick but little joy or interpretation.
In part 4: Lessons
Postscript: There have been technical problems with the Kindle version of A Date With a Bird. In connection with that issue, on Wednesday 24th February Alan wrote:
My Printer, Nick, is still trying to sort the problem. Amazon's
technical support (or lack of it) not helping.. He assures me that the
people who were unable to access the book will either get their money
back, or a free copy from him.
