Not So Quiet

 

Friday morning, and with they day off work, I headed out to Flamborough Head with Duncan Bye, to see what we could turn up following the easterly winds. A veritable deluge of 'good birds' had kept me on the edge of my seat all week, waiting to escape work and get stuck in to the feast. The weather - overcast with a diminishing easterly - looked promising. 

 

Parking at the lighthouse, we donned our wellies - you never can be too careful (?!) and headed round the Old Fall Loop, checking out anything that moved. The Golf Course Willows (and us) were blasted by the onshore wind, making birding difficult and keeping everything low and out of sight. Yesterday's Hume's Warbler was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be seen. The skies were surprisingly quiet too; no flocks of thrushes heading over, and no Bramblings bouncing around, although a presumed Mealy Redpoll headed past calling. A Woodcock flushed as we turned on to the track down Old Fall Hedge, which lifted our slightly dampened spirits. Several Blackbirds startled from the Hawthorns, but little else of note was in evidence, besides a flyover Common Snipe and four rather sedate Whooper Swans munching rape leaves in a field. 

 

Down at the plantation, we bumped into a solitary Phil Mountain who was pleased to report yesterday's Dusky Warbler was still present and had been showing occasionally. There was no sign currently however, so we decided to work the edge of the wood, in the lee of the wind. The wood was spookly quiet, with no hweet from a Chiffchaff, a peep from a 'crest to be heard. 

Round to the south side and I noticed the distinctive 'teck' of the Dusky from the hedge running south of the wood. I pointed this out to Dunc, who immediately got on the bird. As soon as I lifted my bins, the bird flew out and along the hedge towards the wood. Fortunately, it did the honourable thing and pitched into the large Hawthorn by the steps where it gave good views, calling constantly. A typically dark phyllosc, with a big pale eyebrow and little white crescent under the eye, giving the bird a slightly annoyed look. After a bit, it melted back into the wood and vanished. 

We carried on round the circuit, adding a few Red-throated Divers and Common Scoters surfing the breakers. On to the lighthouse grasslands, where three big frosty fluffball Mealy Redpolls dropped in on the path close-by and gave nice views before being flushed by approaching dog walkers. There was nothing in the hedge, apart from a dozen Tree Sparrows munching on the seed left out for them. The wind was starting to fade slightly, so we opted for a caffeine boost, before slogging up to North Marsh. I felt this might be an area that hadn't been checked, so could be holding a good bird. We grilled the golf course as we past, hoping for a rare wheatear, but to no avail, not knowing that a Pied Wheatear was in the process of being found a few KM along the cliffs at Bempton... A Bar-tailed Godwit was busy probing the turf along with a couple of Skylarks and Pied Wagtails, but that was all. 

The big field by North Marsh has a huge area of wild bird crop in it at the moment, and a large flock of Linnets was buzzing around as we walked up. Surely there must be something good here! Approaching the first patch of scrub, I heard a single 'teck' call and rather speculatively said to Dunc that it sounded like a Dusky Warbler. Not really believing myself, moments later a dark shape shot across between two bushes calling several times. This time there was no doubting it, we'd found another Dusky Warbler!  

For a tense minute or so, there was no sign of it and no calls, before it popped out on a Gorse bush right in front of us.  

'Our' Dusky! Pic Duncan Bye.

Dunc managed a very nice pic of the bird, before it dropped back into cover. Shortly, it flew towards us into the cover crop and began hopping around, low down in the vegetation, giving great views. I even managed to get a couple of pics with my Dad's camera! 

 

Delighted with our luck, we left the bird in peace to feed and headed round the field, hearing a Twite and seeing a trio of smart Mealy Redpolls. A couple of buntings flicked into the field, but proved to be Reeds, nothing rarer, though everything had to be thoroughly checked.

Our walk back along the clifftop was buoyant and yet more was to come. As the wind had dropped, I suggested one last check of the Golf Course Willows before heading back to the car to grab some grub. as we walked past the trees, Duncan pointed and said very casually, 'there's the Hume's Warbler'! 

 

Sure enough, up in the willows, a tiny, pale sprite was zipping around catching aphids. I was quite surprised to say the least and especially when the little dude put on a great show, flicking around hyperactively, in the willows right in front of us. Over the next few minutes, we got stonking views and soaked up its distinctive yet subtle features. I was hoping to hear it call, but it was completely silent the whole time. We put the news out and shortly a couple of birders rocked up to see it. This was a tick for Dunc and he was especially pleased to have refound it for himself. Full credit to Lee Johnson, who found this bird and the Old Fall Dusky Warbler yesterday. We left the others to enjoy the bird and headed back to the car. 

 

Next up, we tried the north side of the Cape. Dunc was clearly on fire, and picked up a Firecrest in the willows at Holmes Gut within minutes of arrival. Remarkably this was the first and only 'crest we had seen all day, with no Goldcrests present at all. The two Duskys and one Hume's were the only warblers we'd seen too. Bizarre. Holmes held a dozen Redwings, a couple of Bullfinches and nothing else, we we moved on to Thornwick for our last hour. We finally added a common warbler, a Chiffchaff to our day list, but failed to find much else. So, despite the head feeling a bit quiet, we had had the most excellent day and continued the party by heading into Leeds to see Yard Act at the O2. 

 

 

 

From the Negev to the Yorkshire Dales

Another spell of easterly winds had delivered a good mix of Siberian waifs, with rare Wheatears and Siberian warblers splashed liberally along the Yorkshire coast. More unexpected was an inland Desert Wheatear at Brimham Rocks, near Ripon on 30th October, found by a birder looking for a Great Grey Shrike. The fog lifted by lunchtime and the sun had come out, so I suggested we go there as somewhere different to walk the dog. Of course, as we approached and a small group of birders could be seen, Vicky smelt a rat!

 

After chatting to the lucky finder, we walked across the heath and south to the edge of the farmland, keeping an eye out for the shrike (which we dipped), to where the sandy female Desert Wheatear was hopping about on a drystone wall. The bird was fairly distant the whole time, but that meant we could all chill out and watch the bird without causing it any disturbance. A very smart bird, and the first I have seen in Yorkshire since the male that hung out round Whitby abbey around new year 2018. The Brimham female was getting a bit of grief off the local Meadow Pipits, and she showed off her mostly-black tail as she flicked along the wall. We watched this bird in the incongruous surroundings of the Yorkshire Dales countryside, happily catching flies. 

 

 

Waxwing Vanguard

The week started well. On Tuesday, I had taken a small group of people to visit Hawkswick Moor, a site YWT had just purchased; I had lead on the acquisition and due to various complications, it had taken almost a year. It was great to get it over the line at last and to get the chance to thank our supporters in person, for their patience as well as their funding. The hillside is studded with berry-laded Rowans and several hundred Fieldfares and Redwings were gorging themselves on the bounty as we climbed the track up the rocky scarp slope. To my surprise, I heard a familiar trill: a Waxwing! I didn't think I would be able to spot it among the hordes of Northern thrushes, but my colleague, Dwayne, pointed it out sitting atop a nearby small Ash. My guests were as delighted as me as we watched this bird flycatching, making aerial sallies from its lofty perch in the morning sun. I didn't have a camera, but the bird was close enough to get a few phone shots. There have been a few Waxwings down the east coast in recent days, so this could be the vanguard of a 'Waxwing Winter'. Time will tell!

 Dwayne and the Waxwing, Hawkswick Moor

Nostell Spotted Sandpiper

 

Duncan Bye and me headed over to see the Spotted Sandpiper at Nostell Priory this afternoon, as little was going on in the York area, as it is still mostly bereft of water. It is always good to keep your 'eye in' with a wader like this, as it is a species I don't see too often and which could conceivably turn up in York. 

The bird was a very smart juvenile, with bright mustard-yellow legs and a compact, short-ended body shape which was very distinctive. The neatly marked lower edges to the wing coverts and virtually unmarked tertials with just a few notches near the end also noted on close views. The bird picked its way along the cattle-poached edge of a small lagoon on the edge of the woods and was totally unconcerned by the presence of the handful of birders on site. A couple of photographers sat quietly on the grass and the little wader walked right past them.  We filled our boots with great views before the heavens opened, forcing us to beat a hasty retreat back to the car, and home to York.

 

This twitch could not have been more different to yesterday's high pressure scrum at South Landing. Standing in picturesque parkland, with only a couple of other birders present, and the bird being on view close-by and continually: very chilled! And, no stepladders were required (I heard that my stepladder had been put to good use again today, helping old birding mate Duncan Poyser see the robin!). 

Of the five Spotted Sandpipers I have seen in the UK, this is only the second I have seen in Yorkshire, the first being on Redcar beach back in 2018 and so was a welcome treat. 

 

The View from the Top

My day started disastrously, when Vicky, my wife, said to me “I thought you were getting up early.” I had set my alarm for 5am, but it was now 6.45am. B*****r! I dived out of bed in a panic.

The previous weekend, the persistent westerly wind had finally relented and a northeasterly had brought renewed hope for some east coast migrant magic. Sadly, despite having the whole of Sunday birding at Flamborough, I saw two Redwings and two Bramblings; not the deluge I was expecting! Seawatching early doors had been pretty good, with a stonking Slavonian Grebe the highlight, which flew in and landed off the fog station. All four skua species including a juvenile Long-tailed and a fully-spooned Pomarine in one minute was pretty awesome too. Despite reports of Leach’s Petrels and Sabine’s Gulls to the south, at Spurn, neither of these showed up before I had to depart to lead a walk as part of the Flamborough Bird Observatory's Migration Week.

As the day wore on, the lack of passerine migrants was apparent and the wind began to swing more to the east; it felt like something big was about to happen... As I feared, the following day, when I was stuck at work, the east coast kicked off big style, with fantastic seawatching and a big arrival of birds at Flamborough, including at least three Radde’s Warblers. My phone repeatedly pinged as the mouthwatering news poured in. Gutted was an understatement. 

Worse was to come when on Tuesday morning, Zak Spaull pulled out a gigantic find at South Landing: a Rufous-tailed Robin!

With only four previous records, this was jaw-dropping. When news came through that it had moved into the ravine near the Whale Bridge in thick cover, I feared it would vanish and never be seen again. However, Wednesday unfolded and the bird seemed to be showing every two hours or so, along the stream just down from the Whale Bridge- exactly where I’d watched a migrant Water Rail on Saturday morning. Reports from those on site was that it was very elusive and very difficult to view, with the crowd three deep and only some of those at the front getting a glimpse. People had been there for several hours and not seen it. This didn't sound like fun! With Thursday off work, I counted down the hours - there was no way I was not going to try for this bird. Sometimes just being part of the story is enough – which is what I tell myself when I miss the bird! The advice coming out of South Landing was get there before first light to ensure you get a spot at the fence, otherwise, bring a ladder.

 Back to this morning (Thursday). I had overslept and dawn was peeking through the curtains. It would have to be option two: a stepladder. I headed east, along quiet Wolds roads, my pulse quickening slightly as the familiar landmarks rolled by and the headland loomed on the horizon. I arrived at South Landing just before 8.30am and found several dozen cars already scattered across the car park. I grabbed my stepladder and wandered down the track on the northside of the ravine. 

 Some birders were on the path on the approach to the Whale Bridge, but I almost gasped when I looked across the ravine and saw a tightly packed throng of birders lining the fence, for about 30 metres! Yikes! It was a slightly unnerving scene as this large crowd of perhaps 150 birders was all but silent in the early morning light, focussing on the mass of brambles below. Spooky. 

 

I headed round, noticing a few familiar faces and some well-known birders, found a likely spot and plonked down my stepladder. I received a few comments from nearby birders, who supported my decision to bring this bit of kit. I clambered up, feeling I might pitch forward and crowd-surf along the khaki collective. As luck would have it,  on a step ladder next to me was Birdguides-own Sam Viles, who had a thermal scope with him - this would prove helpful. The vigil commenced, with intense binning of the streambed, brambly bank, fallen logs and tree roots. 

After only 15 minutes, a nearby birder picked up the Rufous-tailed Robin on the stream edge below. Few saw it, but it was a relief to know the bird was still here. Three Tundra Bean Geese flew over the wood and barely got a mention; everybody was totally focussed on the streambed. Now, I just had to be patient and keep scanning. Over the next few minutes, tension rose as various birders got glimpses through the brambles; those with thermals gave a steady commentary. The bird seemed to be moving right to left. Down in the bottom was a large Sycamore with exposed roots, shadowing a small open area, through which the little stream in the bottom of the ravine ran. A couple of mossy logs lay on the ground here. Out of nowhere, the Rufous-tailed Robin suddenly hopped out into the open, on to a rock in the middle of the stream. 

 

Rufous-tailed Robin, pics by John Harwood
 

Pandemonium broke out around as the front row clapped their eyes on this East Asian prize. Birders two and three rows back strained to see through the gaps between heads, or over shoulders. Elbows flew, voices were raised. Above the melee, from my lofty perch I got a great view. It flicked up the bank and vanished. Wow! Like a short-tailed Nightingale, with a big staring eye, pale eye-ring, and rusty-red tail were the most striking features. It had been side-on the whole time, so I hadn’t seen the famous spotty breast. Ten minutes later, it suddenly appeared in the little dell again, but just as I focussed a Euro Robin took exception to the interloper and chased it up the stream. It dived into the brambles in front of us where it was only visible to the thermal crew. Several tense minutes past before the Euro chased the Rufous-tailed back out and down the ravine. It shot past the Sycamore and out of sight. 

 

 

 Rufous-tailed Robin, pic by John Harwood
 

Chuffed with my views, all of which had been within the first hour after arrival, my disappointment with myself of having slept-in evaporated without a trace. Minutes turned into an hour and then as the two hour mark approached without further sightings, I began to feel like departing to do some birding elsewhere on the Cape. Shortly however, the bird suddenly appeared again, high up the slope to our left. I couldn’t see it at first, but it flitted right and landed on the horizontal mossy trunk of the large Sycamore right out in the open. It flicked it’s wings and tail nervously, looking around, giving sensational views, dappled breast and all (for those who could see it!) before dashing along the log and flying back down into the stream. What a bird! Fantastic. Something I never thought I’d see in the UK, let alone at Flamborough Head in my home county! The feeling of elation was immense - I nearly wobbled off my stepladder. 

Having filled my boots with this dream bird, it was time to head off. I decided I should offer my ladder to one of the other birders, and Buckton legend Mark Thomas was close-by and he seemed pretty happy to take it off my hands. Hopefully the little stepladder would continue to perform well.

 

Rufous-tailed Robin, pic by John Harwood 

I headed up to Thornwick where I was joined after a bit by old mate Andy Gibson. We looked for the Radde’s Warbler and failed, though I was pretty sure I heard it call in the little plantation by the activity barn. A Yellow-browed Warbler was more obliging, along with a few Chiffchaffs. A Great Egret flew over in the blue sky, adding a touch of exotic class to proceedings and a nice tick on my woeful Flamborough list. 

 We headed over to Holmes Gut to escape the crowds and have a natter. A Ring Ouzel and Short-eared Owl were nice here, as were 26 White-fronted Geese that flew over towards Thornwick. Not a lot else happened, so saying ta-ra to Andy, I headed down to Old Fall. 

 

Andy in Holmes and overflying White-fronts

Mark had passed my steps to Pete Middleton and I was pleased to hear both of them had got great views of the Robin from ‘up top’. Cool. Pete kindly returned them to the top of Old Fall and after a chat, I wandered down the hedge to the plantation (I left the steps in the car). 

 

A few Goldcrests and Chiffchaffs were flicking about in the apple trees and willows and I scoured every movement for something scarce. Time was getting on, but I thought I’d have one last look in the willows by the pond on the north side. A few tiny calls sounded promising, and locking on to a movement in a Hawthorn revealed a real treat for the eyes, a stunning male Firecrest, all stripes, and glowing bronze. It showed briefly out in the open, a really beautiful bird and a superb finale to another fab day on the head.

I packed my lucky stepladder and turned tail for home. After a fairly low-key autumn, birdwise, for me, the Rufous-tailed Robin had really rescued things, and I drove back west into the setting sun happy as larry.

Many thanks to John Harwood for letting me use his excellent pics of the Rufous-tailed Robin. 

Firecrest
 

Birthday Sprites

I spent the morning walking round Flamborough in warm sunshine, with azure skies overhead, and a gentle southerly wind. Hardly the weather for productive birding on the east coast in October, but it was my birthday, so I had to head east. Three Yellow-browed Warblers (two at Thornwick and one at Old Fall), were my first of the year; any day with one of these stripy Sibe sprites is a good one! Despite getting good bins views, getting a photo was difficult as usual, so I was pleased to get one shot. A Small Copper butterfly on the path at Old Fall was much more obliging! Not a lot of other migrants, apart from a flyover Snow Bunting, several Blackcaps and Chiffchaffs, a Redpoll and a few skeins of southbound Pink-footed Geese. A Clouded Yellow was also along Old Fall Hedge. 

 

 

23,000 steps

 My last day of being 51 (I know, unbelievable, right?!), so I took the day off to go birding. First up, I checked out Ollie's report of a flock of Golden Plovers at Raker Lakes, near Wheldrake. At least 800 birds were loafing and feeding in the freshly tilled fields. I scanned and scanned again but couldn't pull out anything rare. The rain started up, so I jumped back in the car and flipped a coin to decide to go east to the coast or west to the Aire valley. West won, so I gunned the EV back to the A64 and headed down to St Aidans. There has been a few good birds around this part of West Yorkshire during the week, including a Baird's Sandpiper, a charismatic little Yank wader, which I'd not seen for a few years. 

On arrival half an hour later, a message came through that the Baird's was now showing on Spoonbill Flash at nearby Fairburn Ings. Back in the car, I drove the few minutes over to Lin Dyke, and was soon watching the long-winged buff speck out on the muddy flash edge. The peep slowly made its way closer along the muddy edge of the flash, occasionally stopping to peer around anxiously. Gradually, I was able to make out its features: long wings, giving the body an attenuated look; neatly scalloped upperparts; a buffy breast and a rather plain face pattern, with a dark loral stripe and paler throat and supercilium. 

 

Shortly, the Baird's flushed, and flew towards the road and New Flash, calling. It doubled back and landed again for a few minutes, before flying off again. It seemed to drop down on to the coal stacks, where I was aware there were some lagoons. Some of the local guys said that one of the lagoons had some mud around the edges, so perhaps that was where it was headed. I bumped into Lee Johnson and Gordon Beck, friends from Flamborough, and we decided to hike up to the coal stacks. After a tiring walk, I was disappointed and a bit surprised to find that the Baird's was not there. So, we hiked back down again. 

I speculated that perhaps the Baird's had continued round and back upriver to St Aidans, so I drove the short distance back there. It was a really long walk to the far end of the site, but the birding along the way was good, and I added eight Cattle Egrets, Great Egret, Bearded Tits and a few Cetti's Warblers to the day list. 

Down at the Western Reedbed, a smart juvenile Curlew Sandpiper was with a small flock of Dunlin, Ruff and Ringed Plover. There was no sign of the Baird's. Some locals suggested Astley Lake, scene of the famous Long-toed Stint from a few years ago, so I pottered down there. At Astley there was very little habitat for a wandering wader, except one small island, which was Yank free. A very dapper young Osprey put on a fine performance here, so the epic walk wasn't entirely wasted. 

 

As the Osprey headed off over the valley, I decided lunch was calling, so I headed back towards the car park, bumping into a couple of lasses who'd been on one of the Staithes pelagics with me recently. It was good to see them and they enjoyed a look at the two resident Little Owls by the dragline through my scope. A coffee and muffin were in order and as soon as I sat down to enjoy them, the message came that the Baird's was back on the Western Reedbed. Oh FFS! Downing what was left of the muffin, I donned Scope and headed back down the hill. Half an hour later I arrived to find some rather confused birders, none of whom had seen the Baird's nor had put the message out to Birdguides. There was clearly some dodgy reporting. A local said it was back at Lin Dyke and his mate was watching it. Having already done close to 20,000 steps, I needed a sit down, so spent half an hour enjoying the common waders hanging out on the marsh. The juvenile Grey Plover was particularly spanking, a species I don't often see at close range, so I found a bench and studied this and the other waders for a bit. 

 Grey Plover above, with Curlew Sandpiper below.

 

 I dragged myself back up the hill to the car park, and drove back to Lin Dyke. The Baird's Sandpiper was pretty much where I'd last seen it, busily feeding on the muddy flash shoreline. It was marginally closer - not that my video demonstrates this - but it was nice to watch it in the late afternoon sun. Time was getting on, and after enjoying my seconds, it was time to go. My feet ached - I had done 23,000 steps and walked nearly ten miles, but seen some great birds out in the west.

 

Chilling with the Waders

Over the last month or so, I have been heading over to Blacktoft Sands, on the Humber, to look for waders. Having spent a lot of time as a kid birder sitting in these old hides with my Dad, I find chilling out and watching the waders therapeutic, and there's always the chance of a rare dropping in. Unfortunately, despite good numbers of American waders passing through the country, Blacktoft has so far failed to attract anything, but it has been good fun sorting through the flocks of Dunlin at high tide. One or two Little Stints and Curlew Sandpipers have been the best birds, with up to five Spotted Redshanks and two Little Ringed Plovers the supporting cast. 

 

 Top two: Little Stint, bottom, Curlew Sandpiper.

 

On my last visit, Pintail and Wigeon were passing down river, and several skeins of Pink-footed Geese headed inland, a sign of autumn's arrival. 

In late August, a large flock of Spoonbills were loafing on Marshland Lagoon first thing before heading off east to feed on the ebbing tide. 

Spoonbills

Black-tailed Godwit, Icelandic juvenile. Gorgeous!

 Ruff and Spotted Redshank

Fishy Breakfast

Great to see this juvenile (male?) Osprey eating the remains of its fishy breakfast, at Castle Howard on the 26th September. Found by Stuart Rapson a couple of days earlier, this smart young bird had been seen on and off for a few days. After completing its meal, it relaxed and had a little preen, occasionally staring right at us across the lake. A gorgeous bird, which shortly will be winging its way south to West Africa for the winter. I don't see Ospreys every year in the York area, but this year I have seen three!

 

 

So long, and thanks for the... Whales!

 

Today was my last day of the pelagic season, guiding for Yorkshire Coast Nature. We had a great day out of Staithes, aboard the All My Sons, expertly skippered by Sean Baxter. We had a great encounter with a very playful pod of Bottlenose Dolphins, who stayed around us as we drifted on the tide for a good half an hour. Two immatures were very acrobatic, with synchronised high leaps, which would have made Tom Daley proud! No calves were present and the group of c10 was split into three or four small groups, which came together before separating. They were a real joy to watch in the morning sunshine off Huntcliff.

With big smiles all round, we headed out across the tide to the 6 mile line to see if there were any seabirds around. No big feeding frenzies were spotted, so after our traditional mocha and lemon drizzle, I donned the gloves and started chumming off the stern. Out of nowhere, a couple of Great Black-backed Gull appeared, closely followed by a pair of Fulmars. A dark shape appeared too, and the shout went up for Great Skua. The bird proceeded to hassle the gulls, at one point literally landing on the back of a flying GBBG and forcing it into the water. After some great fly-pasts, it cruised off and landed at a distance. Shortly, a Sooty Shearwater came in, and gave us a good view in the low sun. Sadly, I was by this point covered in fish guts, so no pics of any of these birds I'm afraid. 

 A friend of Sean's alerted him to a Minke Whale off Staithes, so we headed back in to look for that. We soon found the leviathan, but it proved elusive and we only got a few brief looks before it vanished. A little while later, we saw another, but again only briefly. The Herring seemed dispersed and perhaps the Minkes are having to move around to search for them making them difficult to track. Nevertheless, everybody on board got a view, which was great. A few birds added themselves to the list, including a late Puffin, a smart adult Little Gull with a flock of Kittiwakes, and three Grey Plovers, which may be the first I have seen on these trips.  So, with that, we headed back to Staithes, under glorious blue Yorkshire skies. 

It has been a great season, with Minkes on all the trips I have done, but in lower numbers than in recent years. The Herring have been a bit sporadic and we've not encountered many big feeding frenzies. My highlights are always the dolphins, but this year the unexpected Cory's Shearwater was a special moment. 

Big thanks to Sean for great skippering and many laughs, to Simon, Stuart and Andy for their company as volunteer cetacean surveyors, all the clients that make this possible, and to Rich for hiring me to do this in the first place! Roll on next year!

 

 

Languid

An early start guiding for Yorkshire Coast Nature on Friday, the sun rose over the waves in the east just after we steamed out of Staithes Harbour. 

It took a while to get light enough to discern the shapes of passing birds, but we soon realised there was a lot of activity with Red-throated Divers passing south, and small flocks of Common Scoter and Teal heading north, heading for the Tees Bay. After a while, we picked up our first Minke Whale, in amongst a throng of Gannets, though it played hard to get and we soon lost it. Out at five miles, I donned the rubber gloves and started to chum with dead Pollack and Mackerel off the stern, which soon attracted a bunch of gulls and a few Fulmars. Several Sooty Shearwaters cruised in to check out what was going on, followed by a solitary Manx. We headed back in, adding eight Shelduck to our list, along with a couple each of Arctic and Great Skuas. After lunch, we headed back out and after failing to find some reported Bottlenose Dolphins, we sailed towards the earlier area where we'd seen whales. All was quiet off Kettleness, until I suddenly noticed a Cory's Shearwater in the wake, alongside a couple of young Herring Gulls. This large shear had appeared out of nowhere.  I yelled 'CORY'S SHEARWATER!' and dived into the cabin to grab my camera. 

 

The bird languidly slid up the wake, and sheared, bow-winged right past our starboard side, giving great views to all on board. Fortunately, there were several birders on board all of whom appreciated this southern wanderer. Despite appearing to make no effort, it soon outpaced us as Sean sped to keep up with it. We slowed and watched the bird of the day cruise into the distance, leaving me elated and the clients bemused by my excitement. This is the first Cory's I have had in eight years of doing these trips, and only the third we've had as a collective, so it was a rare moment. 

 

Offshore Magic

Three days offshore, guiding for Yorkshire Coast Nature over last weekend was brilliant. Every day is different, with birds on the move and varying sea conditions influencing our encounters with whales and dolphins. Bird-wise it has been pretty quiet, with an extended period of westerly wind, with an adult Long-tailed Skua and a leucistic Razorbill the pick, with only small numbers of Sooty and Manx Shearwaters, Arctic Skuas (pic below), Little, Caspian and Yellow-legged Gulls evident. Pink-footed Geese were prominent yesterday as north-westerly winds further north encouraged a departure from Iceland.

Up to 15 Minke Whales were seen daily, even in rough weather, with close views exciting everybody on deck. We didn't find any feeding frenzies this year, but there were Herring present, including some spawning shoals, but they were deep, reducing their availability to birds. c2,000 Grey Seals were an incredible sight, mostly loafing at low tide on the point near Runswick Bay. It's about time we had some Orcas down here!

Minke Whales off Staithes

 

Yesterday, we bumped into a pod of ten Bottlenose Dolphins, which included three females with calves, one of which was from this year, and two adults that 'stood off' the main group, presumably young males. We watched them briefly before leaving them alone. Three Harbour Porpoises were seen off Boulby including a female with a calf, which was good to see, as they seem to have been scarce recently.

Bottlenose Dolphins

 

Best of all, a Thresher Shark, which breached a couple of times off Flamborough Head on Sunday morning. It was massive, with a tail fin as long as it's body!