Part One: Westerly Dipping
News that Britain's first Western Reef Heron had done a bunk, was a worrying development as Paz and me stopped for a coffee just east of Llandudno, last Saturday morning. I had finally caved-in and decided to head to North Wales to twitch this classy heron, from tropical West Africa, which had turned up the previous week. This would be a world tick for me, and Paz was keen to join forces, so we left York at a relatively relaxed 7am, to make our way over the Pennines, to Caernarfon, and the Foryd Estuary.
The bird had occasionally disappeared for a bit, so we weren't unduly worried, and pressed on regardless. On arrival, about 100 birders were lining the estuary path, mostly congregating at the spots where the heron had favoured during the past week. The tide was very high, so it wasn't really a surprise that the heron wasn't here; it was presumably roosting in a tree somewhere, waiting for the tide to go out. We enjoyed a potter round the saltmarsh on the fringes of the estuary, doing a spot of botanising to kill the time, while the tide turned and began to recede. Our excitement built a little, as first one and then several Little Egrets appeared out of nowhere, to feed along the newly-exposed creek edges. The dark one, however, failed to appear. We scanned, and scanned again, checking the creek edges, looking for the sinuous dark shape of our target, but to no avail.
As time wore on, it seemed we were going to dip. We headed round to the harbour in the shadow of the edifice that is Caernarfon Castle. A single Grey Heron haunted the shallows here, but nothing small and dark caught our attention. It was time for a sandwich and a little contemplation. We realised if it showed in its usual spot, birders would put the news out, so we decided to do the honourable thing and check out the wider area, including some spots where it had occasionally been seen. We drew a blank, but enjoyed some of the local birds, including some smart Sandwich Terns. I speculated that the bird may have decided to move on north, having been pushed off by the high spring tide. The next decent habitat would be the Conwy Estuary at Llandudno and I guessed it could turn up there perhaps. It was pure speculation of course...
With a sinking feeling developing, we were startled by the news that the bird had just been seen flying out of a marsh on the south side of estuary and back towards the mudflats! Maybe our luck was about to change! We shot back to the original location and were baffled that none of the gathered birders had seen it. After a bit of a conflab, we headed round the estuary to where it had been reported. A birder was standing on the floodbank and he told us that he had spoken to the guy who had claimed it, but the report sounded very dubious...We spent our last half an hour scouring this side of the estuary, but to no avail. There was no Reef Heron here. Disappointed, but having had a good laugh in lovely surroundings, we made our way back east.
Part Two: Have your cake and eat it
A couple of days after it's Friday night bunk, the Western Reef Heron turned up again...on the Conwy Estuary! Now, I don't get any points for guessing it might turn up there, but it had come a little closer to York and as the weekend approached, I began to feel a little twitchy again. Paz was free and keen, so we re-enacted our plan from last Saturday and left York at 7am. This time, negative news came through half an hour after we had left, so we turned off the M1 and headed to RSPB St Aidans. This was a bit gutting, but at least it had saved us a wasted journey and more frustrated dipping.
Shortly, we were checking out the big digger thing by St Aidans car park, looking for the resident Little Owls. Before we'd had chance to find one of them, an update arrived: The Reef Heron was back at Conwy! Game on.
Two hours later and we piled into the Conwy RSPB car park and almost got sucked into the Conwy Park Run. It was all a bit confusing being surrounded by sweaty runners, rather than happy birders and after what seemed like ages, we finally found somebody who knew what was going on. He gave us the devastating news that the heron had flown off north down the estuary and over the bridge about ten minutes ago. He'd been to the other side of the bridge and couldn't see it, so presumed it had gone round to Morfa Beach, where it had often been seen during the week when the tide was out. This bird was rapidly becoming our shared nemesis!
The local birder patiently explained where we needed to go, to get to Morfa. Heading back to the car, another message arrived stating the bird was still in the estuary, but to the north, off the Marina. The local said we may as well walk down the estuary path, as that would be as quick as driving, so Paz and me u-turned and headed that way, with Notts birder, Phil Palmer.
After a fairly short walk, we crossed under the A55 bridge and the seaward end of the estuary was revealed. No small dark herons were apparent, but checking Google maps showed that the Marina we sought, was just round a small headland. We pressed on and soon rounded the point and there was the Marina. Time to scan! If the bird wasn't here, we'd have had a long walk for nothing and who knows where it might have gone. My first scan with the bins drew a blank....stress levels began to rise as I set my scope up and started to scan. Out of the blue, Phil suddenly shouted, 'it's here, it's flying past!' We jumped round, lifted our bins, and there was the dark slate form of this mega rarity, casually winging upriver, bright yellow feet trailing behind. It looped round and dropped in with a pristine Little Egret and began feeding in a channel out in the middle of the estuary. Flippin' 'eck, we'd done it! Paz and me high-fived, beaming like buffoons, thanking Phil for his sharp eyes; we would have so easily missed it flying past as we squinted through our scopes. This was twitching at it's finest, a stunningly scenic setting for a British first, with an anxiety-inducing chase, almost ending in failure twice.
We drank-in the elegant, svelte form of this small dark heron. It was perhaps slighter than the nearby Little Egret, but pretty similar in stature. The ground colour was dark slaty-grey, with a bluish hue. Two long dark plumes arose from the back of the bird's head waved about independently, like a couple of aerials, and further plumes were on the lower breast and on the uppertail, indicative of a touch of breeding plumage. The white throat gleamed in contrast; it really was a smart bird! The egret and heron fed in the shallow water for a few minutes, before suddenly taking flight and heading upriver again, back towards the reserve and where we had parked. Stoked with our good fortune, we retraced our steps and soon found the bird, showing well with a bunch of egrets and a Grey Heron, fishing in the river shallows.
We spent the next 40 minutes watching this bird, catching several small fish and interacting with the Little Egrets. It was time to celebrate with coffee and cake, courtesy of the RSPB Conwy Cafe, the second highlight of the day.
Beaming Paz
Feeling refreshed, we had a potter round the reserve, in the rising heat of the late morning. The reserve is suffering from a major Crassula infestation, which was pretty sad to see, with the invasive plant carpeting all the lagoons in a thick green layer. There really isn't a lot that can be done about this and I am sure the RSPB staff are really dismayed by its presence. The Deep Lagoon was where the Reef Heron has been spending high tide, but that was not for four hours or so, but it was nice to see the spot, nevertheless.
To our surprise, as we made our way back to the car park, four birders shot passed us, clearly in a hurry. Had the Heron dropped in early? Only one way to find out, so we turned round and followed them back to the hide. Sure enough, our little African friend was sitting on the bund, preening in the midday sunshine, just out from the hide. So much for only appearing at high tide! We enjoyed seconds of this wonderful bird in a different setting before deciding it was time to make way for arriving birders.
In high spirits we made our way back to York listening to dub and enjoying the sunshine high over the Pennines. Soon back in York, we enjoyed tea and cake in the garden, courtesy of Conwy RSPB. Class!
