The Big C

18:11 Tuesday evening, a message from Tom: Sab's settled West Bay...end pier

18:12: Thanks. On my way

18:19: Still showing. 2 Great Shears thru

It doesn't take long to grab binoculars, camera, cap, waterproof jacket and car keys, but a little longer to drive the three miles to West Bay. At 18:19 I was still en route, but heard the 'ping' of a message arriving. Pulling up at the seafront, I finally read it. Great Shears?! Blimey! Was it all going off out there? Should I have brought the scope? Out of the car, I headed for the West Pier, pulling my hood and cap down to try and keep the south-westerly driven rain off my specs. At this point, a rare thing happened. I broke into a run. Tom called it 'Scillies running' and claimed to have captured this indignity on camera for posterity. I disagree...

Clearly just a bloke strolling unconcernedly towards the local rarity.

The Sabine's Gull was still there, lingering in the bay off the west side of the pier. It spent a lot of time on the sea - when it was invisible - but did fly around a bit, once or twice coming quite close. Despite the heavy rain, it seemed worth trying for some snaps...

Juv Sabine's Gull. Full-frame 'birder's photo' at 800mm zoom.

The Great Shearwaters had appeared shortly after a trawler came into the harbour, which brought to mind that Berry Head seawatchers once told me how Great Shears sometimes follow trawlers into Torbay. Needless to say, no sign now, but a few distant Balearics through. Tom had the advantage of Kite image-stabilised bins, which are quite amazing things. I can't recall whether his are 16x or 18x, but apparently they are a fantastic asset on pelagics. I can imagine. I could see the Balearics, but in truth they were not identifiable through my bins.

As a postscript to this event, by the end of that very same day an astonishing 53,000 Great Shearwaters had been counted passing the Lizard!

So that was Tuesday evening, me running up the West Pier like a young gazelle and so on. Later that night, bit of a scratchy throat. The following morning, death warmed up. I had crashed and burned, big time. Just out of curiosity I dug out an old test kit...

So that's a big, fat positive for COVID-19

Since the pandemic I have had my share of virus infections, one or two quite nasty, but never tested positive before. So, as far as I am aware, this is my first bout of the dreaded COVID. I am currently on day four. It's not been pleasant, but I've definitely been clobbered harder by non-COVID viruses. Anyway, obviously the birding is on the back burner right now.

Finally, here is a shot of the August 31st Cogden Sabine's Gull that Mike Morse kindly sent me...

Now that's a Sab's photo!    © Mike Morse 

A Week in the Life...

As a fully retired old-age pensioner there is now no logistical reason why I cannot go birdwatching almost every day. I guess there must be many OAPs who do just that, but I know I never shall. Frankly it is not in me. In fact it would likely do my head in. For me the birding juices ebb and flow, and like it or not I am apparently subject to that tide. Right now I am happily bobbing along on the flood, so reports early in the week of Grey Phalaropes here and there around Lyme Bay - and from Portland in particular - got me off my backside last Thursday, and out along Cogden Beach in speculative hope.

The afternoon was sunny but very windy, with an onshore blast giving me all sorts of optimistic vibes. Within minutes of hitting the shingle, a tiny distant blip drew my eye like a magnet. Definitely a phalarope, but too far out to identify to species. Perhaps a photo would nail it? Despite several minutes of trying, I simply could not get it in the viewfinder. Its being visible for about two seconds in every twenty didn't help, and eventually I had to let it go. Thankfully, half way along the beach I got another chance. This one was much closer in, but still a pig to photograph...

Grey Phalarope off Cogden Beach. They do like a weed raft!

Such a distinctive silhouette.

Success is such a drug. Setting out with a target species in mind, and actually finding it...well...

Friday morning was obviously going to be Wryneck time.

Except it wasn't. There were birds on Friday, but no Wrynecks. Having missed most of August, 12 Yellow Wagtails on the beach were my first of the autumn. No pics of them, but there was other stuff...

Cirl Bunting in song just after first light. Camera settings all to cock.

Peregrine over - not an everyday sight at Cogden.

Uncooperative Whinchat, one of three or four.

That's better.

I inadvertantly flushed a trio of Cirl Buntings, which conveniently landed in a nearby Hawthorn. The male was a bit hidden, but the other two allowed for photos. I am pretty sure this is a family party...

Possibly the scruffiest Cirl I have ever seen. Clearly an adult female, with active moult in the tail and, well, everywhere!

This one I think is a juvenile male, with dark feathering breaking through below the bill.

All three are visible in this shot.

Three Cirl Buntings - the easy version.

Saturday morning was earmarked for the Seaton Birdwatching Tram, but first, a seawatch...

An autumn south-easterly is a rare thing here, especially one as strong as greeted me at Seaton seafront first thing. I sat down, sorted out the scope and put my eye to it. Wow! Instantly my scope was chock-full of Balearics! Judging by the numbers on view, they must have been moving from dawn. The flood soon slowed to a trickle, but by the time I packed up at 07:50 or so I had counted 335 Balearic Shearwaters E, comfortably a record count for me. Ian M had joined me shortly after 07:00, and we enjoyed a big pulse of 'commic' terns through as well, with 210 at least - mostly Common Terns but also a few Arctics, including two or three distinctive juveniles.

Highlight of the Birdwatching Tram was a little flock of perhaps 10 or more Cattle Egrets...

The dark bill ages this Cattle Egret as a juvenile.

The first time I have ever witnessed this!

The ever burgeoning population of these things may not bode well for our ecosystem, but Cattle Egrets sure are entertaining.

In the afternoon I managed a visit to Cogden. I had thought the SE wind might bring us a few common migrants, but the local grapevine suggested otherwise. And it was correct. Still, I was not going to go home without a Redstart. And blow me, I didn't...

Distant Redstart in the sun.

Also, a gorgeous Painted Lady

Which brings me to this morning...

Actually, Cogden was dire this morning. Apart from 4 Wheatears and a Whinchat on the beach, absolutely no passerine migrants whatsoever. Highlight of the visit was a Cogden first for me...

Redshank is a Cogden tick! And how many visits has it taken...?

Seems ages since I last posted a cheery Wheatear pic. So...

Still plenty of time for a Wryneck.

Summer Swansong

So that's summer done. August especially has passed in a blur, with few opportunities for bush-bashing at Cogden, or much else really. Life has been a bit full-on...

I'll start with a few pics from August 1st...

Great to see that Cirl Bunting has bred successfully again.

One of four Clouded Yellows.

One of many Rush Veneers, a common migrant. This one is really well marked.

Nicely camouflaged Wall butterfly.

Rosy Knot-horn, a proper little stunner, and new moth for me.

Since then I've managed a couple more visits to Cogden, but seen little of note. Until today.

I so nearly didn't bother. I had already ignored the alarm a couple of times, then a message from Steve mentioned a few Balearics and two Arctic Skuas past Seaton. That got me out of bed. Mind you, seawatching was not on the agenda. My plan was to walk the beach at Cogden, on the off-chance that a Grey Phalarope or something might be bobbing about close inshore, following yesterday's soggy blow. I'm pretty sure I haven't walked the full length of Cogden Beach since the spring, so it was about time really...

In the end I did the coast path first, then returned along the shingle. A number of scans from inland had produced absolutely nothing of interest passing by, so upon hitting the beach I had zero expectations. Approaching half-way I spied in the distance a smallish, dark bird floating just offshore. My first thought was Balearic Shearwater, but a few paces later the penny dropped. It was much, much better than a Balearic!

Forgive the photo glut...

Juvenile Sabine's Gull - an early shot just for the record.

There wasn't much in the way of floating weed, but the Sabine's did sometimes appear to seek out and inspect small clumps of what little there was. 

My first photo is timed at 08:10 and the last at 09:00, by which time the Sabine's Gull had worked its way almost to the western boundary of Cogden. Thankfully it then did the decent thing and flew E towards West Bex, passing Mike Morse who was still several minutes away back along the beach.

To put this record in context...

In the 22-and-a-bit years I've lived here, until today I think my Lyme Bay Sabine's tally was five (Lyme Regis, Seaton x2, Seatown and West Bay) and this is the first I have actually found. To do so during my first walk along Cogden Beach in many, many weeks says it all really.

I might well have used up my autumn jam prematurely.

Other birds of interest this morning were three Shags - unusual here - and a fly-by Sanderling. Thankfully the latter was quite close enough to check for eye masks and phalarope-ishness.

One of the three Shags, all of which were bobbing around together much too far out to clinch with bins, and all of which took flight the moment I focused the camera. Nailed though!

I think the Sabine's Gull photos are very misleading, and convey no hint whatsoever of the immense challenge of getting decent pics from a low vantage point in a heaving sea. Here is the reality. Three shots from a single burst of seven...

Frame #2 'Going...'

Frame #5 '...going...'

Frame #7 '...gone.'

So yes, tomorrow is the start of meteorological autumn. Bring it on.

Exeter Canal Carp

I don't see Rob much these days. Our eldest son has lived in Switzerland since 2018, and visits home are once or twice a year at best. Even so, every time it happens we somehow make room for some fishing. Last time it was pike (documented here) but this time it was going to be tench. Not any old tench, but Exeter Canal tench; tricky tench. With no more than one night and part of the following day available, this was a big ask. A recce trip was essential...

Arriving around 9 o'clock on a warm, sunny morning, we set off along the towpath. The Exeter Ship Canal gets ever so weedy in summer. Very pretty, but it makes fishing a challenge. The gin-clear water was alive with glittering shoals of small rudd and roach, and we passed a number of mobile lure anglers - including youngsters, which was nice to see - hoping to catch some of the many pike which thrive on this bounty. So far, all pretty much as we expected. And then we spotted a carp. In fact, three carp, cruising slowly past, a foot or so below the surface. And they were not alone. Within half a mile or so we must have seen around 15 carp, up to perhaps 20-odd pounds. The tench were soon forgotten.

Several years ago, when Rob was still living nearby, we had laid plans for a modest carp campaign on the canal. Time was limited, but surely we might catch one or two if we put some effort in? Rob got off to a great start in March 2017...

24lb 8oz of lovely, dark mirror carp.

But such auspicious beginnings were deceptive. Despite a lot of effort - especially by Rob - we caught no more carp that year. One Exeter-based carp angler we met spoke of going fishless for eight months and counting since his last capture the previous autumn, which served at least to console us a little but was hardly encouraging! Anyway, the following year we focused on tench. Wisely, I think. At least we caught a few.

The Exeter Canal is deep - up to 12ft or so in the middle - and not living nearby we had found locating the carp in several miles of water very difficult. Yet now here they were, brazenly parading back and forth for us. We picked an area to fish, and decided to return in a couple of days to put some bait in...

Once again it was a sunny morning, and once again we spotted some carp. Just a handful this time, but enough to keep the plan on track. We would be back the following evening.

Arriving around 8:30pm, we were set up and fishing within half an hour. Although we hadn't seen any carp this time, confidence was high. Well, maybe hope more than confidence exactly, but we were pretty convinced that our prebaiting would have had those carp prodding about close to where our little traps now lay. As the sun set, and passing walkers and cyclists grew few, quiet descended. Considering how close it is to the sprawling city and thundering M5, the Exeter Canal can be quite idyllic at times. Like right now...

Suddenly the peace was broken by the rapid beeps of a bite alarm accelerating into a 'one-toner'. It was my left-hand rod. I lifted the rod and immediately it hooped over. Definitely a carp. The battle was delightfully epic, the fish going on several decent runs and taking line. Grudgingly it succumbed to steady pressure though, and was soon in the net. 'Got to be a big double at least,' said Rob, illuminating the fish with his head-torch. I detached the net from its handle and lifted the fish from the water. Oof! That's when you know. The solid dead-weight of a fish in a net. Surely a twenty? On the scales it weighed 22lb 6oz...

22lb 6oz of Exeter Canal carp.

I was thrilled of course, but Rob was as chuffed as if he had caught it himself. What a start! Less than three hours into our session, and already a carp on the bank! A very decent fish too. The last 20lb+ carp I caught was in the Colne Valley almost a quarter of a century ago!

I would like to go on to record how this was just the beginning, and how the Exeter Canal carp proceeded to crawl up our rods all night...

But no, that was it. When it got light I landed a bream of 6lb 12oz. Summer bream are constructed mainly of slime, so I don't make a habit of weighing them, but it is so long since I last caught one that I just wanted a benchmark in case a really big one came my way. Initially I thought the next fish was also going to be a bream. Until I looked at it properly...

Roach x bream hybrid.

This is easily the biggest roach x bream hybrid I have ever caught. With hindsight I wish I had weighed it. Anything over about 3lb is considered a specimen apparently, and this one was pushing 5lb. Incidentally, if the fish look bigger in the photos than stated, this is probably down to the fact that these pics were taken on my phone camera, which I am guessing introduces a slightly 'wide-angle' look due to its short focal-length lens. Anyway, I certainly was not holding the fish at arm's length to make them look big!

The hybrid was followed by another bream of around 7lb, then a male tench of 4lb or so. Rob, meanwhile...er...blanked. To be fair to Rob, he was using very different tactics which were a bit more carp-or-bust than mine.

Rob is back in Switzerland later today, and any further angling efforts on my part this year will likely be solo. Hopefully I can motivate myself to have a go. Because clearly I haven't quite forgotten everything I once knew!

A Very Mothy June

Judging by all the exclamation marks and 'best ever' this and that comments on social media, I am guessing that 2025 has so far been an exceptionally rewarding year for moth folk. My very limited experience suggests likewise. My fitful efforts last year yielded 20 new species for the garden (NFG) whereas the first six months of 2025 have already increased the garden list by 38, including three last night...

NFG

Lunar-spotted Pinion. Not common locally - just six Bridport area records on the Living Record map - and wasn't on my radar. Initially I had no idea what it was.

Marbled White Spot. Caught one in our son's Lyme Regis garden last year, so I recognised it. Probably a bit overdue. Certainly there are several Bridport records.

Marbled White Spot, side view.

Ribwort Stilt Aspilapteryx tringipennella. I do like the stilt moths, so it was pleasing to see a new one. Discovered as I was releasing the night's catch this morning. My bleary eyes had failed to spot this tiny sliver of a moth when processing the trap first thing.

There were also a few nice migrants. I wonder how much longer they'll be around, and when/whether we will have another arrival...

 

Migrants

In addition to the migrants depicted below, the last two nights have also produced two or three Diamond-backs and European Corn-borers...

Bordered Straw #6 for 2025. The previous three seasons have produced just four, all in 2022.

Rusty-dot Pearl Udea ferrugalis. A regular here, but I don't think we've had any others so far this year.

First Dark Sword-grass of 2025, trapped Sunday night. A regular migrant, though we don't see them often. Maybe four or five a year?

The fourth Small Marbled of 2025. Without doubt an exceptional influx of this species. Many long-time moth recorders are getting their first for the garden.

So that leaves the also-rans. Last night especially was another busy trap, with quality in spades...

 

Also-rans

First Canary-shouldered Thorn of the year last night. A beautiful moth.

Canary-shouldered Thorn, alternative view.

First Marbled Green of 2025. Despite the name, they're not always green.

The Coronet is fairly common here, but the deep, dark greens and purples on this individual made it well worth a snap.

Eyed Hawk-moth. Just wonderful! I think this is our third of the year. Which is roughly what we usually get.

The garden's second Slender Brindle. And this time I managed not to discard it with the Common Rustic aggs.

Another Sunday night moth - our second Mullein Wave. Not uncommon locally.

Hoary Tortrix Eucosma cana. Just because.

Thistle Marble Lobesia abscisana. Not loads of records locally (think I've had three now) so a nice catch.

Gold Triangle Hypsopygia costalis is a little beauty. It occasionally rests with its wings open, so I was very chuffed to get this pic, despite the plastic pot lid showing well!

Large Tabby Aglossa pinguinalis x2. Not especially common in Dorset, with just three Bridport area records on the Living Record map currently. We have had about six now, so I'm not sure what the attraction is. The larvae have sheep poo on their menu, but it definitely is not that...

Water Veneer Acentra ephemerella. The scientific name is very appropriate, because ephemeral they certainly are. We've had this species several times - occasionally in numbers - and very few of them last the night. This one was moribund.

Back when I was just a birder, June was a killer month. Now that moths are on the agenda, June is still a killer month, but for a different reason. I am currently reading a book about sleep, and if I was to limit myself to one take-away point so far, it is this: DO NOT compromise on sleep, because doing so will give you all sorts of health issues and shorten your life.

So, one more trap. Then a few nights off, and a lot of sle-e-e-e-ep...