Today was my first day of the whale-watching season guiding for Yorkshire Coast Nature. Trips have been running for several weeks and have been a great success, so I was looking forward to joining in the fun. We had a cracking morning, with at least 23 Minke Whales, mostly between three and five miles out, feeding on spawning Herring. Two large feeding frenzies were discovered with the sea boiling with Grey Seals and Minke Whales, with hundreds of Gannets, Herring Gulls and Fulmars all joining in. There were lots of Sooty Shearwaters around today, with at least 30 recorded (we normally only see a couple at this time of year) plus a massive highlight in the form of a stonking Great Shearwater, which glided in with a squad of Sooties and landed on the water right next to the boat. It then showed brilliantly on the water and cruising around for fifteen minutes. Only a couple of Manxies were seen today, but we added a smart Caspian Gull, half a dozen Great and Arctic Skuas, lots of terns and a few waders. A wonderful way to kick off the season!
From top: Caspian Gull, Gannet and Sooty Shearwater, Great Shearwater x2, Great and Sooty Shearwaters, Minke Whale, Grey Seal.Monday 26 August 2024
Sunday 25 August 2024
The Big Dee
I twitched the Hudsonian Godwit at the Dee Estuary on Friday. It had been seen a week earlier roosting at Burton Mere Wetlands, before disappearing and then being refound at the high tide roost on the Dee Estuary off Flint, Wales a few days later.
Right on the edge of my two hour twitch limit, and with a day off, the pull of this mega Yank wader was strong. Hudsonian Godwits are not common anywhere and this is only about the sixth ever in the UK, with the first being seen at Blacktoft Sands in the early 80s. Ever since then, it has been high on my list of vagrant waders to see, but I have never been anywhere near one... until now!
I arrived at Flint and made my way to a ridge at the top of the saltmarsh. This was a good vantage pooint from which to view the waders as they came into roost. With the tide coming in, me and a handful of other birders scoured the growing Black-tailed Godwit flock carefully. The saltmarsh fringe obscured many of the birds and apart from one interesting candidate (which I later dismissed), the Hudwit remained elusive. A few claims were made, but I saw nothing convincing, and I think a little desperation was creeping in to some birders. The bird was probably there somewhere, just out of view.
At a little after 2pm, the tide peaked and the immense Blackwit flock moved a few hundred metres onto the saltmarsh proper, giving more unobstructed views. The godwits gathered in a packed line, spread out along the grass, many obscured by other birds, or by the grass itself. We all scoped the flock hard for 45 minutes and our best efforts failed to pick out the smaller Hudsonian. A little desperation set in, and I began to wonder when the tide would drop and the godwits would disperse, ending our chances.
Needle in a haystackFortunately, a hunting Peregrine came to the rescue, flushing the flock, which erupted skywards over the estuary. I switched from scope to bins, knowing this could be our moment, and sure enough as the Blackwit flock turned as one flashing silvery white underwings, my eye locked on to the odd one out - the black bird in among the white. This was the Hudsonian Godwit, helpfully sporting contrasting sooty underwings. It stood out very conspicuously. I yelled out its appearance and the other birders latched on to it quickly too. Superb!
After a while, the flock landed, looking jittery, for the hungry falcon was still at large, trying her luck further down the expanses of the big Dee Estuary. Shortly, she returned and the flock flushed again, revealing, as if by magic, our American visitor. Again the flock settled back on to the saltmarsh after a minute or so and we all grilled the flock to no avail. After the third flight and subsequent return, I picked up the Hudwit sleeping on the near edge of the flock. There was no doubt; a strong white loral stripe above a dark lore, blackish feathers on the mantle and dark burgundy barring on the belly. He was also noticeably smaller than the Blackwits, perhaps 10-15%. After watching him for a few minutes, he woke up and wandered casually into the flock, where he melted into the larger Blackwits and vanished. It was time to go so with a big successful twitch smile on my face, I ploughed back east through the Friday afternoon traffic.
Corfu August 2024: Hot Island Birding
Had a week at the north end of Corfu with the family in mid-August. It was very hot, but the north end is surprisingly green with plenty of trees (a mix of olive groves, Holm Oaks etc) under which you can find a bit of shade. With temperatures approaching 40C, birding was restricted to early mornings only. Only one new bird, Western Rock Nuthatch, four of which were seen bouncing about on the boulders on the slope just down from the monastery at the summit of Mount Pantokrater (pic below).
A few notable southeastern European birds, including Eastern Olivaceous and Eastern Subalpine Warblers and Lesser Grey Shrikes, but my biggest highlight was the several hundred Alpine Swifts tearing noisily around the rooftops in Corfu (Kerkira) Old Town, one evening, which was fantastic. The noise from these birds was incredible and at dusk a kettle of perhaps 500 birds gathered in a swirling cloud over the city. This made up for the melancholy I felt for missing my two Swiftlings fledge back home, which would have happened around the 12th. The best site I found was Souvara Pond near the northeastern tip of the island.
This held a few breeding and passage waders and was surrounded by reedbeds containing Great Reed and Cetti's Warblers. The surrounding olive groves and scrub contained plenty of warblers, Nightingales and shrikes and was enjoyable birding. I would love to revisit this area in the spring, as I suspect it is heaving with migrants and singing summer visitors. Maybe next year!
Mega Alpine Swifts!