Day Three: Brassneck and Bluetail- 5th October

Today, Team Dirty Habicht (L to R: Dunc Poyser, Rich Baines, Gansey Girl, Me, Mark Hawkes) hit the East Yorkshire coast. Again, the conditions didn't look great for a fall of migrants, just great for sunbathing and beer gardens, which perhaps explained our rather sluggish start. 

Bridlington Harbour was our first stop for a bit of filthy twitching and parcel posting. The first-winter Grey Phalarope was found pecking around in the muck floating in the corner of the harbour, a stunning little Arctic waif, with fabulous lobed toes, like a tiny Coot. The phalarope, a first winter, was very confiding, busily doing its thing without any concern for its admirers. Boots full, we recruited a passing tourist to take our photo with the Gansey Girl -above. 

On to the Cape, and we opted to walk the south cliffs from South Landing to Old Fall. This had nothing to do with the fact that the Red-flanked Bluetail in Booted Gulley had been refound! A bird called a couple of times as we got out of the car at Flamborough; surely a Lapland Bunting, but with sleepy ears, we had to let it go...A Yellow-browed Warbler was a safer ID, calling as we headed off towards the clifftop.

Returning birders suggested Booted Gulley was a scrum of angry, fighting twitchers; we'd soon sort it out! Anyway, it was totally the opposite, with quiet, considerate birders helping each other to get views of this little Siberian skulker, flicking about under the bushes. I fortuitously stood next to a lad with a themal imager, and he gave a quiet commentary of the bird's movements, which allowed me to get excellent views. It's always a good day when you see a Bluetail!

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On we went, along the clifftop. A bunting launched out of the stubble at close range, calling. A Lapland Bunting, which helpfully circled round and landed ten metres away in the stubble. After a brief scurry, it decided our company wasn't what it was after, and it flew off and landed in the next field west. Well, be like that, if you must! Two Dunlins flew past, which was just as unexpected in a stubble field, if not quite as rare.

Next up, Old Fall, where a spanking Pied Flycatcher eyed us from the sheltered lower branches of a Sycamore, while Goldcrests defied the bluster, gleaning unseen aphids from the decaying leaves, high in the canopy. In the hedge, we found a beautiful, gleaming, pale Chiffchaff that had Siberian etched into every feather, though perhaps too pale? It performed beautifully, hovering about, showing off silky white underparts and occasionally giving us a rather monosyllabic, flat call.

Time was pressing but we had time to check out one of the Red-breasted Flycatchers, which had lingered at Holmes Gut. It showed well, briefly, but was mostly - and sensibly - keeping low down and out of the breeze. The Icky seemed to have done a bunk and there were few other migrants noted, apart from two Bramblings, so we legged it over to Bempton, so that Dunc and Mark could see the Isabelline Shrike. 

Having learned from the previous day's tricky viewing, we scoped from the path just next to the visitor centre, over the heads of the disconsolate twitchers and toggers gathered by the shrike's favoured hedge. The pale form of the shrike was easy to see from our vantage point, albeit at about three miles' range, and we watched it scanning for passing insects (at least that's what it might have been doing). The crowd remained oblivious, being unable to see the bird in the lee of the wind on the opposite side of the hedge, so even though our views were distant today, at least we'd seen it.

We headed home and hit Leeds O2 Academy for a sparkling set by Miki Berenyi (formerly of Lush) and then the legendary Leeds band, The Wedding Present. Much middle-aged breathless pogoing took place, as the band played the classic album Bizarro, including anthems Brassnceck and Kennedy and we relived our long forgotten teen years. A fine end to a fabulous first three days in Sniper's Alley, with great company and great birding.  

More pics of the Brid Phalarope. Worth getting a wave-washed arse for!

Day Two: Fog Horns and Witch's Knickers - 4th October

After birding heaven on my birthday, I hit the coast again today. Sadly, the rough sea meant our Yorkshire Coast Nature boat trip was cancelled, so me and Rich checked out the North Yorkshire coast, just south of Whitby, for a change of scenery. Chris and Ollie's fabulous Two-barred Warbler had done a bunk and several forlorn birders were mooching about early doors. Having seen the Flamborough bird last year, we were fairly chilled about this, but it would have been great to see. We birded the area where it had been seen as it was an excellent bit of cover, with a similar vibe to some of the little hamlets on Unst. The best we could do was a Reed Warbler and a few Blackcaps and Goldcrests, but we could see why Chris and Ollie like this place!

We wandered down to the Kettleness Fog Horn and admired it, took a selfie (above) and then pottered along the coast in glorious sunshine, checking out this and that, but mainly not a lot. A dead Minke Whale lay on the shore, a sad sight.

A bit later, we met up with Sean our boat trip skipper for an end of season lunch, which was great, before heading down to the Cape (we couldn't stay away!). At Bempton, the Isabelline Shrike had disappeared round the back of the hedge on the nature trail, to keep out of the freshening southerly wind. It would have been viewable to everybody from the overflow car park, and after a while, the site staff agreed to let the half dozen birders in to have a look. The pallid shrike stood out a mile against the dark of the Hawthorn, like a small pair of witch's knickers*, which I guess is apt, given where the bird gets its name 'Isabelline', although the Spanish princess Isabella could scarcely be described as a witch, despite her unsanitary behaviour!**

The bird was an exceptionally pale individual, quite heavily scalloped on the breast and with a very washed-out face pattern. Not much was discernible from the range through the scope, but it was a good bird nevertheless. I tried my best to get a photo of the bird with the North Sea in the background, perhaps with a Gannet sailing past; two species that shouldn't really be photograpable together!

Many thanks to the patience of the Bempton team who supported the twitch - Dave Aitken, Ivan Nethercoate, Tony Hood and Trev Charlton.

Also noted, a couple of Yellow-browed Warblers and a lot of Pink-footed Geese.

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*Slang for pieces of plastic, often carrier bags, stuck in bushes or hedgerows, which witches use as underwear. Probably.

**The origins of Isabelline trace back to the 17th century, named after the Spanish princess Isabella. Legend has it that the color was inspired by the princess's vow to not change her undergarments until a siege was lifted, resulting in a pale, off-white hue (yuk!).

The Big 5-0, Day One: Sniper's Alley (3rd October)

 I've been pretty chilled about hitting 50 not out, certainly not as down about arriving at 30 and 40 for some reason; maybe every big birthday is now something to celebrate; a time to really appreciate family, friends and good health. And birding - lots of birding! Ever since I've worked, I've taken the day off work to go birding on my birthday, and this year, I'd planned a three day self-indulgent epic, involving the east coast, whale-watching and knee deep rarities. Well, hopefully!

York birder, Mark Fewster, gave me an early 50th birthday present when he told me that hitting 50 meant I was now in 'Snipers Alley' where I would be dodging death's bullets every day, until I scraped it to 60. There is some truth in the stats here, but it was something I wasn't too pleased to hear two days before my big day!

As the 3rd October approached, the birding gods (DIM Wallace et al) were clearly smiling down, and a fall of 'good' birds on the east coast during the preceding day set things up really nicely; this looked more promising than some birthdays I have had, which have been marred by light southwesterlies and sunny skies! 

The day of the big 5-0 dawned and I enjoyed a quick hug with the family before heading off east to Holmes Gut, Flamborough. The weather was a bit nicer than I'd hoped - there wasn't going to be much of an arrival today - but whilst waiting for birding mate Andy Gibson, a Red-breasted Flycatcher flew on to a fence at the back of the pub garden - a great start! 

Andy arrived and we enjoyed views of the flycatcher which had moved to the willows along the small stream. Other than this, the Gut was rather quiet, with only a few Goldcrests and a couple of overflying Redwings, Skylarks and Meadow Pipits on offer. 

 

News of yesterday's Olive-backed Pipit at Thornwick Camp lightened our step and we made our way slowly round the clifftop, checking carefully for migrants. We hadn't added a lot to the list by the time we reached the plantation behind the activity barn where the OBP had been hanging out since yesterday afternoon. A small crowd had gathered along the footpath but they reported no sign, so we went round the side to try our luck. Within minutes, Andy saw the bird hop up briefly to the foot of a bush before creeping back into the grass. I missed it, but watched intently assuming it would reappear. We told a couple of nearby birders and they joined the vigil by the fence. Moments later a small bird dropped out of the sky and landed in a nearby Alder. We all looked over to the tree before Andy exclaimed 'It's a Rustic Bunting!' The two other birders stated the same, but I just couldn't see it. I couldn't understand how I couldn't. Arriving birders flushed the bird and I then realised that it had been behind the telegraph pole, and out of view! Flying close overhead, the rusty-red chest and flank markings stood out clearly in the morning sunshine; the bunting flew over to the back of the plantatioon and dropped into some small Hawthorns, unfortunately landing out of sight. After an anxious minute during which time most of the other birders who had been searching for the OBP arrived, the bunting was again accidentally flushed and it flew back over our heads, before briefly alighting atop a bush allowing all present a very brief perched view, before it flew again, off and over Thornwick top hide. Blooming heck! While I couldn't claim this as a find, it was an exhilarating moment to see this bird drop in right in front of us. 

After this excitement, we gave the OBP a bit longer, but then decided to go and do a bit of birding elsewhere. This proved profitable, with Redstart, Blackcaps, Chiffchaff and Goldcrest. Arriving back at the plantation a little later, we were pleased to hear the OBP had reappeared and shortly, we got great views of this streaky skulker, creeping about in the grass and leaf litter, quietly pumping its tail as it went. It really was an immaculate bird, and having struggled to catch up with this species in Yorkshire, this was a real treat on my birthday. 

Having filled our boots, we continued our quest, adding a Yellow-browed Warbler by the lake, but little else. Post-lunch, we opted for the Outer Head where we felt a late arrival could produce a few new birds. Within moments of heading down Old Fall hedge, the unexpected white form of a Great Grey Shrike came into focus perched nonchalantly and ghost-like atop the Hawthorn. It was distant, so we waited a while to see if the approaching birder might inadvertently flush the bird towards us. And then the second bizarre bunting incident happened. A small bird flew up out of the stubble between us and the shrike, landed briefly on the hedge and then flew straight towards us 'ticking'. The small bunting passed close overhead, revealing a small chestnut head and blackish streaks on a white belly - a Little Bunting! Andy and me could hardly believe it. The bird carried on up the hedge and appeared to go over the road and out of sight. I remembered there had been a Little Bunting here recently, but I couldn't remember it being reported for a while, so it was a fab surprise.

Getting ourselves together, we ambled down to the plantation. A couple of Yellow-browed Warblers and a brace of Pied Flycatchers mingled with Blackcaps and Chiffchaffs, giving us plenty to enjoy, though nothing rarer stirred - although we could hardly complain after the day we'd had! The farmer decided to harvest the beans in the field surrounding the plantation, shattering the afternoon's tranquility, so we quickened our pace round to the lighthouse. The rest of the loop was quiet, with the highlight being an ice cream, courtesy of Andy. 

I still had a bit of birding time available before I was due back in York, so we went back to Holmes Gut. The Red-breasted Flycatcher had found a buddy, and the two birds were zipping in and out of the trees, and showing beautifully. After enjoying this energetic pair, we joined a small group of birders who had refound an Icterine Warbler that had been present for a few days. It took a while to get a good view of the Icky, but after taking a bath in the stream it then sat up in a willow, drying off in the warm afternoon sunshine and giving us all great views. I even managed some reasonabl pics. 

 

 

 Nearby, an Acrocephalus warbler was never anything but a Reed Warbler but I took a couple of pics just to be sure. It was time to call it a day, and we wandered back to our transport, the calls of the Red-breasted Flycatchers rattling in our ears. It had been an exceptional day, really incredible birds and non-stop laughs with Andy, at the east coast's best birding spot. Bring on tomorrow!

 

Me and Andy, North Landing, 3rd October 2024.