Winning a Pint Back

You might recall that Rob and I have this little angling contest going. The biggest fish of each species caught during 2017 earns a pint. The balance is still leaning Rob's way at present, but earlier this week I managed to nick one back...

The pike campaign has been a bit of a slog, with loads of eel aggro and very few pike. We've both chalked up several blank trips since we started back in early October, and feel that the venue is beating us up a bit. Mind you, with Rob doing a few overnighters he does manage to hear the odd bit of gen from other anglers and it sounds like we're not the only ones finding it tough going. The worse thing about not catching much is the feeling also that you're not learning much.

Anyway, back to the pints. Pike-wise, Rob has two 16-pounders to his credit this year, whereas my biggest is 14:08. I say 'is', but I mean 'was'...

23lb 8oz of exceptional jam

So, my second 20lb-plus pike in less than a year, and a different fish too. In fact, they were caught more than two miles apart, which kind of illustrates the challenges (and potential) of this amazing water.

In a way I'm a bit gutted for Rob. He's put in way more time than I have, and really deserves a big 'un. Doesn't mean I won't savour that pint though...

Pike

Since the previous post I've made a few attempts at writing another but just dried up. And the longer I leave it, the harder it gets. The problem isn't lack of material but rather the opposite. Where to start...?

Anyway, filling a twelve week gap with one post is impossible, so here is just a small bite...

Rob and I have begun another winter pike campaign on the Exeter Canal. We've caught a handful thus far, including this one from October...

14lb 8oz of muscular sardine-eater. I wonder what happened to its tail?

Rob has caught the biggest at 16lb, but unfortunately I wasn't there and so the photo is just a poor record shot on the unhooking mat. Rob has been fishing right through the night mostly, and I've usually been able to join him until late in the evening at least. We have been absolutely plagued by eels! Occasionally they've managed to hook themselves, but mostly they just give you twitchy bites and shredded deadbaits. I did weigh one of the bigger ones, but at 1lb 15oz it was hardly a specimen. Rob deliberately caught an eel of 3lb 6oz on worms back in the summer, so I've no hope of winning the pint for largest eel at this rate. Anyway, I have no idea how to avoid the eels while the water is still warm enough to induce them to feed, except to fish more in the daytime. Unfortunately though, free daytime hours are at a premium!

Night-fishing for pike is probably underexploited. For Rob and me it's simply a practical way to maximise fishing time, so it's interesting to see what we might catch after any other pikers on the water have gone home for tea. That said, so far the only other pikers we've seen have been the occasional lure fisherman. When winter arrives properly I expect we'll see a few more.

Sea deadbaits have worked well for us, and we've tried lots: sardine, mackerel, herring, bluey, sprat, smelt, etc. To be honest I have confidence in any of them really. And in angling, confidence is key. Before I sat down to write this post I loaded the bait freezer with a freshly-delivered stack of deadbaits. Just in time too - the eels had nearly wiped us out!

I have one or two other angling projects planned for the coming months. Plus there is running. Yes, thats right. Running. And cycling of course. Birding? Well, there has been some birding, but not very much. And no, no Hawfinches. None at all.

Nothing Too Controversial...

I am surprised that almost two weeks have elapsed since my last post, but I suppose I shouldn't be; life has been busy, and when that happens time flies. First then, a few recent patch snaps...

Early one morning I spotted a distant but distinctive shape perched up on the beach. Sure enough, my 2nd patch Peregrine. It flew off E almost immediately, perhaps to that hazy lump in the background - the tall end of Portland.

A couple of barrel-scrapings, viewed from the low Burton Bradstock cliffs. Cormorants fly past in ones and twos quite regularly, but I have rarely seen any decked.

I entertained a brief hope that these were going to be something other than Canada Geese. Silly me. Mind you, I don't know what exactly I was hoping for. Greylags I suppose. Yes, I'd have been chuffed with Greylags.

Wheatear on the beach, 5 August. Standard coastal migrant fare, but an evocative composition.

The biggest patch thrill of late occurred at around 06:50 on 5 August.

Chiff-if! ...Chiff-if-if!

Chiff-if!

Something was flying over, westwards and quite high. I recognised the call immediately but my rusty cogs were dreadfully slow to grind out an identity. Eventually they coughed up Wood Sandpiper. Of course! It called a couple more times but was totally invisible. Still, I am more than happy to add 'heard-only' species to patch lists, so on it went. Two Patchwork Challenge points as well.

On other fronts, well, Mrs NQS and I have just returned from a few days in Bath to celebrate our wedding anniversary. It's always nice to stay in a 5-star hotel courtesy of Tesco vouchers. There is also cycling and gym, but I suspect few will wish to know my latest Strava conquests or details of my reps and sets. One reader might be happy to know that all my toes are still intact...

Finally then, something different...

Yesterday a Thrush Nightingale was found on the N Norfolk coast. Apparently it was a typical skulker and extremely difficult to get views. I say 'apparently' because everything I know of this bird and the circumstances surrounding it has been gleaned from Twitter. And again, apparently it was flushed several times in order first of all to identify it, and subsequently just to see it. One well-known Norfolk birder posted a photo, which prompted someone to ask him if this photo had been obtained during one of the "many reported organised flushes". The poster also asked whether our big-name birder thought this was a "reasonable and humane way for birders to behave".

Which got me thinking. Okay, so yes, of course the question is loaded, but I found myself trying to analyse why exactly it was asked...

"Do you think the organised, deliberate flushing of birds is a reasonable and humane way for birders to behave?"
Answer: Yes.
Conclusion: Our Norfolk friend is clearly a selfish low-life with no concern for a bird's welfare. Etc...
Answer: No.
Conclusion: And yet there you were getting involved, matey! Not only are we now dealing with someone who has no concern for a bird's welfare, but also a hypocrite and probably a liar.

I suppose there are other answers (basically though, all nuances of yes and no) but, however you look at it, this question - even if simply rhetorical - is designed for one purpose: to point an outraged and condemnatory finger, and to create a villain.

And us birders, we do that an awful lot. And we love it!!!

Twitchers, photographers, dudes, ringers, flushers, birders who keep stuff quiet, birders who blab too much, and so on ad infinitum. Depending on one's own perspective, any of the above might fall victim to our self-righteous finger of blame as we point it accusingly from the moral high ground.

Still, makes us feel really good about ourselves, eh!

Anyway, I do have views about flushing birds - organised or otherwise - and might churn something out for the next post...

From Beach to Gym

What little birding I've done since the last post has been a bit lacklustre. Still no Yellow-legged Gulls or Balearic Shearwaters yet. This afternoon's rain inspired a beach walk from Burton Bradstock to the far end of my Cogden patch, and total direness was averted by my first two 'autumn' Wheatears on the shingle and a nice fresh Willow Warbler in the reeds.

However, I wasn't really feeling it today...

Heading back to Burton Bradstock after a long, wet slog...

Still, August is just around the corner, and soon the coast will be jumping with migs again. Which ought to fan the flames of ardour somewhat. I hope so.

Anyway, a couple of posts back I casually mentioned joining a gym. Previously I would not even have needed all the fingers of one hand to enumerate my visits to such an establishment, so what's going on? Well, it's like this...

I was a reasonably sporty kid and, up to leaving school, exercise was a regular part of life. In my late teens though, it all stopped. It wasn't deliberate, just a consequence of circumstances. One day in my early twenties I remember going to buy some new jeans and being shocked that my usual size was suddenly too small. Also I had just discovered squash, and found that a decent player could easily turn me into a gasping wreck. Yes, I was very unfit, and getting a bit porky. Something had to be done. It was now the early '80s and the running boom was in full swing, so...

One morning I set out from home in my shiny new trainers and steamed up the road. Within a few short minutes my lungs were on fire. Aaagh! I ducked down a quiet footpath and doubled over, trying not to throw up. A most undignified start. In the end it was joining a running club that did the trick. I learned how to train properly and by about 1985 was running half-marathons. There followed several years of fairly consistent fitness, culminating in my one and only full marathon in 1992. Whereupon I injured a knee, quit running and became a low-key cyclist.

At this point I'm in my early 30s. Middle age is still a long way off. So, fast-forward nearly 20 years...

...and once again I am unfit and lardy. I could say the same for Mrs NQS but of course would never do that because I want to keep living. Proper middle age is very different to 30-something. It's the age when years of casual indifference to/avoidance of exercise - especially when combined with questionable diet - can take a serious toll. All kinds of highly undesirable health issues will happily rear their ugly incipient heads at around this point in life. Which is one of the main reasons I started cycling again.

So that's me sorted then.

However, in all our 37 years of marriage I have hardly ever managed to coax Mrs NQS to do anything vaguely sporty. Badminton once or twice. Rounders with friends occasionally. Astonishingly, in the late '80s a brief flirtation with running, and even though I saw it with my own eyes and therefore know it actually happened, I still find it hard to believe. And that's about it. Until recently...

With her 60th birthday looming, my dear wife has suddenly expressed an interest in exercise that involves more than just a sofa, a good book and a nice glass of wine. With a few like-minded pals she tried some regular 'brisk' walking, but unfortunately it fizzled out. And then a couple of friends much younger than us enthused about the benefits of joining a gym. Hmm, I thought, nothing to lose, and so mentioned it. "Okay," she said, "I'll try it."

Which is why I am now a member of a gym. With Mrs NQS gamely stepping so far out of her comfort zone, a bit of moral support was the least I could offer. And, unexpectedly, I am enjoying it. I've started running again for the first time in 25 years, albeit on a treadmill. My biceps are once again detectable, and I am earning Brownie points. Brilliant!

I hope that explanation alleviates any recent concerns about my sanity...

The Patch Birder's Lot

Today was earmarked for seawatching. The forecast has been promising since Wednesday. Strong, gusty southerly, a lot of rain. Great. So I stuck to my plan, was up early, and down at Burton Bradstock by 05:40...

To be fair, 21 July is quite early in the season and, although I am no seawatching expert, if pressed for predictions of likely quality I would have said Balearic Shearwater definitely, a good chance of Cory's and/or Great, but not much else. But again, when I say 'good chance' I don't mean for me. No, because Cory's and Great Shearwaters almost never make it into the bowels of Lyme Bay where I live. Balearics, sure, but not those big 'uns. In 12+ years of fairly regular seawatching from Seaton my tally stands at well over 200 Balearics, but just one 'unidentified large shearwater sp.' So, if not for me, then for whom? Well, for any birder planning to seawatch from Berry Head, at the western end of Lyme Bay. July conditions like those forecast for today would make Cory's or Great, or both, a very realistic prospect there.

To sum up: I know my chances of a large shearwater locally are slim to nil, I know that Berry Head may well get them, and I have taken the day off specifically to go seawatching...

I can hear the obvious question. Why, oh why don't you just go to Berry Head??!!

It's the patch birding thing isn't it. The patch is king. And when, as the morning progresses, you learn that Berry Head seawatchers are so overwhelmed with Cory's and Greats they need clickers to keep count, well, you simply shrug and are glad that there are lots about. Because you are loyally sticking to your patch and taking your medicine, and perhaps one of those beauties might stray as far as Burton Bradstock. Little nuggets of hope come your way via text and Twitter. Dawlish has had a few, both Lyme Regis and Seaton a couple of Cory's each. And Charmouth?! Wow!! A Cory's, 2 Greats, 2 Balearics, 2 Bonxies and a blinkin' Sabine's! But then Charmouth is special, which is why you long ago resolved to ignore it for Patchwork Challenge purposes, remember? And then you hear that even Portland Bill is getting big shears, which is almost unknown. So you try harder. You slog it out even when the rain becomes torrential and visibility non-existent. And at the end of the day you add up the numbers from three separate sessions totalling about five and a half hours, and you get...

9 Common Scoters, 19 Med Gulls, 15 Manxies, 16 Whimbrel, and 2 Sandwich Terns. There were also Gannets of course, but it's a long time since I counted Gannets. Even when I'm desperate.

This is, by all measures, pretty dire.

A single Balearic passed West Bexington in six hours of effort there. I did have a probable (pale) Balearic myself, but too briefly. And that was it.

I own a vehicle and I can drive; there were no constraints on my time. Given today's conditions and potential, it was rather like being led to the door of a banqueting hall and shown the sumptuous offerings within, only to spend all day at a table laden with cream crackers, in the vague hope that someone might accidentally have left a cupcake among them.

It's funny what patch birding makes you do.

Burton Bradstock is half way between West Bay and West Bexington, and a long way from large shearwaters. Berry Head is the pointy bit by Brixham, on the left there, and extremely close to all the quality birds on offer. Anyone is free to drive straight over and fill their boots, and I have no doubt that many did. Not me though, I like cream crackers.

An Aberration Revealed

Monday 17 July (05:30-07:30)
First patch walk since 23 May. Virtual absence of birdsong very noticeable. Peregrine on beach briefly major highlight. Also noted: 2 Herons, 4 Canada Geese E, c10 Manxies likewise. A few hirundines and Swifts moving. Autumn feels close.

Yes, it was my first visit to Burton Bradstock/Cogden for nearly eight weeks, and yes, it felt very different. Back in May the early morning air was bursting with song. Skylarks, Cetti's Warblers, Whitethroats, Reed Warblers, a single manic Sedgie, to name just a few. Yesterday it was so, so quiet. Autumn really did feel close. I wasn't expecting much, but I did have a target: Yellow-legged Gull. Juv YLGs were a summer feature on the Axe, and the occasional bird is to be expected along the coast here too. In fact one flew W offshore past West Bexington at 07:17 and no doubt past me shortly afterwards, but I was blissfully unaware and certainly not looking in the right direction at the right time. There'll be more, I'm sure...

Unlike a large percentage of my fellow birders I have not spent the intervening eight weeks hunched over a trap-full of flying weeds (as some wit on Twitter described moths) nor pursuing any other of the myriad bird-substitutes which fall in your beer and spatter your windscreen. No, like any sensible 58 year-old I have joined a gym.

I truly hope that some poor, unsuspecting NQS reader just sprayed an involuntary mouthful of coffee all over their screen...

Some blogs out there are pure reportage. Went there, saw this, and here's a photo/lots and lots of photos. They're okay I guess - if the subject interests you. But the ones I enjoy most are those that give you a bit of insight into the blogger, some clues to what makes him/her tick, a hint of human frailty here and there. Like a susceptibility to toe injuries, say. Yes, I like blogs of that kind.

Which is why I am sharing this news. I have never before been a member of a gym, my experience of them is minimal in the extreme, and it is quite likely that this aberration will reveal all kinds of interesting human frailties. In fact, I suppose it already has.

More anon...

It occurred to me that I've never featured the man-cave, so here it is (most of it anyway) taking up a hefty chunk of our tiny garden, and now the location of almost all NQS production.

That Phasing Thing Again.

Well, Tuesday's sore throat has matured into a full-blown summer cold. So I am cooped up indoors. Boring! Once again I've amused myself on Twitter with vintage twitch photos and whatnot. All good fun. However, also on Twitter I came across a tweet from a young birder who lives not far away. In part it read:

"Help! Totally disinterested in birding currently!...Never been here before..."

I sympathise, because I have been there before. Often. Approximately half of my birding life has been spent phasing.

Understandably this tweet prompted several replies. Most offered some sort of advice, which I read with interest. Some of it was of the 'just get out there and enjoy it' kind, which made me wonder if these particular respondants had themselves ever phased. I can recall a few occasions when I've tried to 'just get out there and enjoy it' - for example twitched a very rare bird with absolutely no enthusiasm. Pointless. Despite 'success' such efforts have left me with rather empty, joyless memories. Compare that with, say, the events described in the last post. Equal 'success' but also euphoria and hence treasured memories. Personally I cannot see any point in pursuing a hobby (or even just an aspect of that hobby) if you are no longer enjoying it.

I suppose my advice to anyone experiencing an unaccustomed lack of zeal for birding would be just to roll with it. Chances are that birding is in your blood, and the urge will return. Maybe I am just a lightweight, but changing tack and letting nature take its course has served me well over the years. I thoroughly enjoyed my little patch-birding flurry this spring, and am confident that a similar wave of enthusiasm is imminent. These days though, I know not to force it...

See also: this post.

Anyway, let's conclude on a high note. Via Twitter I am currently trying to track down any colour photos of the 1984 Titchwell Ross's Gull. Not a lot of joy so far, but in the meantime here are some superb coloured sketches by Mike Langman. Thanks Mike!

Arguably even better than photos. See what I meant? PINK!!