Giga Rare: the Bempton Pale-legged Leaf Warbler

A wingbarred Phylloscopus warbler at Bempton Cliffs had set pulses racing earlier this week, but due to poor weather and its skulking, elusive behaviour, it had evaded identification. Having heard an unusual call, local birders had their suspicions, and by Friday, the bird had been recorded and an identification reached: this was Britain's second ever Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, and the first to be found alive! This little bird had gone a long, long way wrong; it should be heading to its wintering grounds in Burma and Thailand, not East Yorkshire. This really was an uber-vagrant of a Giga-level rarity.

Old mate Philip was up for our birthday gathering and we had planned to go birding at Flamborough this morning, so this couldn't have been timed better! However, with the first clear weather for a few days overnight, I felt there was a chance the bird would depart. As we headed east early doors, I was drawn to the Flamborough fog station (ironically, as it's job is to deter) as I felt that yesterday's strong northerly wind could well generate a really exciting seawatch today. Also, the Bempton warbler had been reported to be extremely elusive and combined with the sheer rarity of this bird, there was likely to be a big crowd gathered, jostling for views, and I was really unsure whether I could face that!

We were still debating this as we drove into Bridlington, but news of the bird's continuing presence eased our decision and we hung a left and gunned the car to Bempton. About 100 birders were already present and volunteers were doing a great job of directing the arriving and very anxious twitchers, ably assisted by some of the Flamborough Bird Obs folk. We parked up and made our way to where the bird had last been seen. A crowd had gathered, six or seven deep, staring intently into the shadowy depths underneath some large Hawthorns. Unlike most leaf-warblers, this species apparently likes it low down and shady, hanging out in the brambles and lower parts of bushes; this was going to be tricky. Birders were kneeling down at the front of the scrum, almost as if paying homage to the bird! I wandered to the back of the crowd, but there was no way I was seeing anything through the tiny gaps between birders heads. It was like being at a gig, just with the stage being a bank of bushes. We decided a better bet would be to go round the other side of the Dell (a large sort of depression lined with Brambles, Gorse, Bracken and Nettles and studded with large Hawthorns and a few larger trees. The sun was shining on to the opposite bank, and it was nice and sheltered too, perfect for a feeding vagrant warbler. A Siberian-type Lesser Whitethroat leapt out of a nearby bush as if to prove the point.

Nerves were rattled by any small movement; Goldcrests zipped around a large Sycamore; Blackcaps guzzled Elderberries; a rather grey Chiffchaff flitted through the Willows and finches and Tree Sparrows were all busily feeding in the Dell. Despite the plan, after twenty minutes of so, excited movement from the twitchers on the other side suggested that the bird may have reappeared round the other side. 

 

The rather brown-naped Lesser Whitethroat in the Dell.

We headed back to the burgeoning crowd and after a few tense moments, the strange, high-pitched 'tink' of the Pale-legged Leaf Warbler could be heard. The call was really distinctive, sounding almost tree frog-like. Moments later, the warbler flicked up from the unseen darkness under the bush into the higher twigs of the canopy and then flicked across the top and down into the Dell! We shot back round to the entrance road and could still hear the warbler calling. It was getting closer and Philip suddenly exclaimed that he had the bird low down in the Hawthorn on the side of the Dell. I got my bins on it just as it flicked off into the Brambles. Drat! The bird melted away. We changed position to see if the bird would reappear but it somehow moved quickly back to the other side of the Dell - we could track it by its call. We headed back to the car park and sure enough the bird flew across the road into the large bushes close to the visitor centre. Yet again, I got close views of the bird flicking low down in the bushes, but just could not get it on it well enough. All the time, the distinctive call was given. It then flew straight over my head into the scrub just next to the visitor centre. It stopped calling and was lost. 

The penetrating thin call of a Yellow-browed Warbler was a welcome distraction; it showed well feeding actively in a nearby Ash. We wondered if the bird had moved along the wooded belt to the north, so we headed along looking and listening intently. We picked up two more Yellow-browed Warblers, one either side of the pond; lovely little sprites dashing about the Willows and Alders. One or two Song Thrushes were in the willows too.

 Shiny sprites

After more searching, we debated whether this was all we were going to see of the PLLW. Philip was happy, I wasn't particularly; I had seen the bird five or six times and listened to its call, but had not seen it properly through my bins. We debated options and then suddenly we heard it call again moving back towards its original spot. It was clearly doing a feeding circuit, following a regular route around the scrubby areas surrounding the car park and Dell. Discussing tactics, we felt our best chance would be to wait until the bird was in its original spot, then head round to the entrance track and wait. Following it around with the crowd was just proving to be frustrating, so getting ahead and quietly waiting near a likely spot, could just pay off, if it chose to repeat what it had done an hour previously. 

One or two birders had the same idea, and a small group of us gathered by the roadside at the foot of the Dell. Tense minutes passed by and then, we heard the sound of the bird as it approached unseen through the bushes. Philip, who is blessed with the sharpest eyes of anybody I know, spotted it first as it flicked into the side of a Hawthorn. I didn't see it, but focussed by bins into the area. And suddenly, out it hopped, on to a small bare branch in a hole in the Hawthorn! Facing left, it nervously flicked its wings and tail, whilst looking around. It was a noticeably large Phyllosc, with bright white supercilium and white throat, a dark greyish head and olive mantle with bright bronzy wings, with indistinct wingbars, and of course, pale pink legs! It hopped left and out of sight, before revealing itself again. Our hunch had paid off and we had enjoyed good views of the bird doing its thing as it moved through the scrub. 

 

Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Bempton: Photos by Steve Williams @steveonhilbre.bsky.social - thanks Steve for letting me use your pics :-)
 

To our surprise, it then flicked across the road into the bushes on the western edge of the site, just as the masses arrived from the northside of the Dell. The crowd gathered, blocking the road, and we retreated for coffee and cake, smiles gleaming in the morning sunshine.

Caffeine-fuelled, we walked the cliffs to North Dykes, where a Siberian Stonechat was flycatching from a barbed wire fence in the company of a Whinchat. The bird was a typical pale Maurus type with pale unstreaked peachy uppertail and a frosty look.

 

Siberian Stonechat

 A couple of lovely Pink-feet flocks winked overhead as they winged their way south, and Gannets cruised past along the clifftops as we wandered back, in that elated mood generated by having seen something really special and having had some very nice cake. There was more mouth-watering news coming out of Flamborough, and I was desperate to try and find our own birds, but we had a party to prepare, so we left the throngs searching for the East Asian skulker and headed back west.

Fresh in from Iceland, Pink-footed Geese heading south across the blue skies above Bempton.

 

Up pops Upupa epops

 

York has an uncanny knack of attracting wandering Hoopoes and I have an uncanny knack of dipping them when they turn up. Some local birders even see them landing on the road in front of their cars (Adam Firth!) whilst local vicars spy them from the vicarage windows, probing for grubs on their manicured lawns. But not me! Hoopoes aren't the sort of birds you could ever expect to find inland; A spring overshoot on the south coast is a possibility with a bit of weather and luck, but inland they are very unpredictable in their occurrence. 

York's latest Upupa epops had popped up in a housing estate at Stamford Bridge just east of York at the weekend. To my immediate frustration, I was lounging in a punt on the River Cam in Cambridge, celebrating my wife's birthday and enjoying the unseasonally warm sunshine. This news put a little edge on proceedings, but I promised myself not to mention it until back in York, so as not to ruin the party. 

To my delight, the bird was still happily bouncing around the gardens this morning, so perhaps I would get a chance to twitch it after all. My Monday meetings ended ahead of schedule, so a late lunchtime twitch was in order, and 20 minutes later, I was prowling around the cul-de-sacs grilling the greenery like some botanical burglar. Fortunately, the natives were friendly and were delighted with their exotic visitor, telling me which gardens the bird was favouring. Despite the local gen, there was no sign of the Hoopoe, so I went for a wander; perhaps the bowling green or cricket pitch nearby were worth a look? After  a few minutes, five other excited birders suddenly appeared; moments earlier, they had seen the bird fly over towards the cricket pitch, conveniently where I was stationed, scanning the short turf. This did look a good spot for a feeding Hoopoe, but sadly the Hoopoe didn't agree and was nowhere to be seen. I left the others searching and went back round to the favoured location. 

 To my minor astonishment, at number 43, there was the Hoopoe, nonchalantly walking about on the lawn. I parked up next to it, dropped the window and watched it contentedly feeding on several leatherjackets. It eyed me suspiciously - perhaps it was the tunes - I turned the radio off!  I rang one of the birders and let him know that it had reappeared and then enjoyed the bird for a few minutes on my own before the (tiny) crowd arrived. The footsteps flushed the bird, but it flew, or rather flopped, as Hoopoes kind-of do, only a little way before pitching back down on to another likely-looking lawn. I had another few minutes enjoying this stunner, before work beckoned and I headed home.

Slight Return?

The sight of a stripy sprite bouncing around a coastal hedge or Sycamore has been so frequent as to become expected on the east coast in September, but in the last couple of years, Yellow-browed Warblers seem to have declined massively. Last year was my first blank year in about 30 years, without a single sighting of this lovely species, a stark contrast to recent years where I have recorded double figures in a day. There have been a range of theories for the change in fortune, including extensive wild fires in the Russian breeding grounds, poor survival in the new wintering areas or a lack of easterly winds in September. Whatever the cause, they have been noticeable by their absence and many folk have lamented the disappearane. So, it is with some relief that this autumn there has been a slight return to former numbers, with good counts all along the east coast in the last week or so. The vanguard didn't linger, but were soon outgunned by multiple arrivals chivvied by a keen easterly straight out of the Urals. These birds sparkled amid the bushes and trees, flitting around with Red-breasted Flycatchers and other drift migrants. On Friday, the winds continued, so I headed out to Flamborough to join in the fun. A poor choice led me to seawatch and despite promising conditions, little was moving, save a handful of Sooty and Manx Shearwaters and a few skuas. With news from the outer head of Little Bunting and Red-breasted Flycatchers, I bid farewell to Brett and headed off in search of passerines. Arriving at Old Fall Hedge and a gorgeous trio of Spotted Flycatcher, Redstart and Whinchat fed together, dropping on hapless insects in the stubble at the foot of the hedge. And from nowhere, a surprisingly noisy Yellow-browed Warbler started yelling from the top of a nearby Hawthorn. There may in fact have been two birds as the noise was pretty startling, though I only saw one at a time. Lovely. A Red-breasted Flycatcher was hunting in the sycamores of the plantation, rattling away, but I only managed brief views. To complete the set, a Pied Flycatcher zipped in and more oblingingly, sat on a branch for a few minutes. Song Thrushes were coming 'in off' and a couple of Yellow Wagtails flew over. The Little Bunting failed to reappear and time was getting on. It felt like there was going to be a big bird today or this weekend, but I would be away down south with the family, so I had to be content with my stripy and rather noisy sprite. 

 

York Birding Trip - Flamborough Head 8th September 2024

 

Today was our annual York Birding Flamborough field trip. We have had a good track record with these trips, having seen and found a few good birds in recent years. 

The drift had continued over the weekend, with more common and scarce migrants making landfall on the east coast, and with early morning mizzle and a light northeasterly wind, the conditions looked favourable for a good day out. 

Thick fog and warmth greeted us at the lighthouse; an early seawatch was immediately sidelined, so we headed off round the Old Fall loop. Both Spotted and Pied Flycatchers were showing in the murk at the Golf Course Willows, pretty much the first birds we laid eyes on; followed by hulking Garden Warblers, ever-so-pale and constantly tacking Lesser Whitethroats, flitting Willow Warblers and a few flyover Swallows. No sign of the recent Red-breasted Flycatcher to complete the trio, but early smiles on York birders' faces were good to see. The fog lifted a little as we headed down the Old Fall hedge and we found first three, then 13 Wheatears feeding in the stubble fields. A quiet bubbling song from the top of a thick Crab Apple was reminiscent of a June Garden Warbler, which seemed rediculous on a misty September morning, but our hunch was right when the seasonally maladjusted Syvia eventually revealed itself. More Lesser Whitethroats called unseen in the hedge as we approached the plantation. We split into three groups to cover the hotspot as carefully as possible. As with Friday, Pied and Spotted Flycatchers were the most obvious birds, showing well from the tops of the trees as they expertly picked passing flies out of the air. There was not as much activity as Friday, but we did notch up Blackcap, Whitethroat, Lesser Whitethroat, Willow Warbler and Chiffchaff. A couple of Yellow Wagtails flitted and a fine Hobby cruised past over the cliffs causing alarm among the lingering House Martins. 

By the time we reached Motorway Hedge, the fog had rolled in again, announced by the Flamborough fog horn. As such, it was difficult to see much in the hedge itself and we moved on quickly. Again, our plan for a seawatch faded into the gloom and we opted for lunch instead. Bush-bashing seemed to be the best post-lunch option, so once refreshed, we drove round to South Landing. Aside from a few unseen calling Chiffchaffs, nothing much was happening in the ravine as we made our way to the beach, where we found so much fog that we couldn't see the sea! A few waders avoided marauding dogs and careless owners, including single Knot, Dunlin and Bar-tailed Godwit, with 16 Ringed Plovers for company. A few creaking Sandwich Terns flew past and then as if by some miracle, the fog dispersed revealing an azure sky and bright sunshine. The temperature lifted by several degrees, which was welcomed by all, until we began the steep ascent of the steps up to the cliff top. I reminisced about running up these a year ago, for the fantastic summer-plumage White-billed Diver ( I am still not sure how I got up that quickly!). 

The rest of the South Landing loop was fairly uneventful, though a close female Sparrowhawk and a trio of Spotted Flycatchers and a solitary Pied Flycatcher performed beautifully in the clearing near the whale bridge. Perhaps the best bird was a Nuthatch which we heard calling from the woods, my first at Flamborough. We also saw a Gold Spot moth and a Red-legged Shieldbug, adding a little entomological flavour.

Time was getting on and some of the group decided to head home. With the mist finally clearing, I was keen to go back to the outer head to see if anything had dropped in. Arriving at the lighthouse, we picked up Wheatear and Whinchat in the Gorse Field, followed by Stonechat and two Whitethroats in the Bay Brambles. With clear skies, it was refreshing to be able to see for a change! Bumping into Craig Thomas and John Beaumont, they told us they'd had a Greenish Warbler at the bottom of Motorway Hedge but sadly it has filtered off along the hedge along the bottom of the Gorse Field and disappeared. Arrgh! My hunch of returning here had been right, but it looked like we were half an hour too late for the best bird. 

Nevertheless, we were on site, so it was worth a wander along the hedge to see what else might have turned up. A couple of Lesser Whitethroats was all we could produce from the thick cover and with tired legs and eyes it was almost time to give up, when Jane Chapman mentioned to me there was a small, pale bird near the corner at the end of the hedge. This sounded promising, so we both quickly walked a little further on and began grilling the willows in earnest. Suddenly, a movement, and I locked on to a small green and off white phyllosc, flitting among the leaves. This looked like the Greenish! I grabbed a scope and the thin white wingbar and pale, off-white supercilium jumped out at me. It was the Greenish! The group quickly gathered and to our collective delight, the little sprite performed brilliantly, mostly on the near-edge of the bushes, moving quickly through the foliage, often pausing to look around right out in the open. This allowed everybody to get great views, most even locking on through the scope too. I managed a bit of phone-scoped effort through Rob and Jane's scope and a few distant pics. A new bird for some, and an exciting bird for all, the delight was clear in our little York group and this had been a fantastic finale to a great day at Flamborough Head. 

 

 

 

                            

That Petrel Emotion (part two)

A foggy start to my last Yorkshire Coast Nature pelagics out ot Staithes and a bumpy sea, but with such a lot of wildlife hopefully present, our optimism was high. By mid-morning the fog lifted and the first of the day's many Minke Whales blew close to the boat, before showing its arched black back and curved dorsal fin. Big smiles from all on board and for a moment queasy feelings caused by the big sea were forgotten. Big rafts of Sooty Shearwaters were just as impressive; I scoured everything that moved hard for something rarer, but it was not to be - at least not yet. 

 

Sooties

Our first trip of the day ended with a mysterious lone dolphin, which I missed, which some observers thought could have been a Risso's....

We had seen about 30 Minke Whales, Harbour Porpoises, lots of Grey Seals, c200 Sooty and c25 Manx Shearwaters, several Arctic and Great Skuas, a handful of Red-throated Divers, Common Scoters and three Whimbrels. Not a bad start! 

Minke Whale

Back into Staithes at 3.30pm, we quickly said our farewells to our clients before welcoming on the next group of sailors. Heading straight out to the most productive areas, we quickly bumped into the lone dolphin again. The first sighting looked promising to confirm the Risso's hunch; a slow-moving, large dolphin with tall fin, but with closer views, it was in fact a lone Bottlenose. The fin wasn't right, and the head was typically dark and obviously beaked. Sean and me were disappointed it hadn't been the much rarer Risso's but all aboard were delighted to see what was for many, their first dolphin!

 Bottlenose Dolphin

Soon, we were into the Minke Whales and much delight ensued. Sooty Shearwaters powered past, and large numbers of Fulmars fed around the floating corpse of a dead Minke. Activity definitely waned as early evening arrived, with many seabirds loafing on the sea, presumably digesting their meals. I continued to scan, and shortly before Sean announced we should head back to harbour, I picked up the unmistakable form of a Storm Petrel! The petrel was flitting along the water behind a raft of Fulmars and Sooty Shearwaters, being tiny in comparison. I shouted 'Storm Petrel!' and followed the bird desperately trying to see any sign of a covert bar (for Wilson's) or an underwing bar to confirm European. I couldn't really see either as the bird wasn't that close, but it's behaviour and wingshape definitely favoured the more-likely European. After a few minutes, it drifted off into the distance without coming any closer. I was elated; this isn't a particularly rare bird, but they are hard to see off the Yorkshire coast. It is the first I have seen in six years of doing these trips and only the third Sean has ever seen and only the second ever seen on YCN pelagics off Staithes. So this little petrel really was a great finale to what had been a great day's pelagic birding and whale-watching. 

 

That Petrel Emotion (part one)

I have a long-running issue with Fea's-type Petrels, as any reader of this blog will know. So as I drove towards Flamborough early on Friday morning, it was yet another blow (but no surprise) to hear I had missed yet another of these Pterodromas heading north oast the cape. A frustrating start to my day's birding! Thankfully, the bitter emotional blow was soon forgotten as a lively couple of hours on the cliffs proved fruitful enough, with plenty of Sooty and Manx Shearwaters powering north, along with several skuas, plenty of ducks, and a few unexpected treats, such as an early Pale-bellied Brent Goose.

The lure of drift migrants in the bushes soon had me heading round the Old Fall loop and it didn't disappoint, with plenty of common warblers and several Pied and Spotted Flycatchers putting on a show. The activity on the leeward side of Old Fall plantation was a feast, with birds flitting actively in the warm sunshine, snapping up insects left and right. Nothing rarer stirred despite a good grilling, and the bird of the day, a Red-breasted Flycatcher in the Golf Course Willows failed to show for me. So, I headed back to York happy, with emotions lifted by some fab east coast birding, despite the best efforts of that elusive petrel. 

 Top: The double - Spotted and Pied Flycatchers. Below: the triple, with added Lesser Whitethroat at the bottom.

 

Pelagic Humpback

Yesterday was my second day of leading Yorkshire Coast Nature seabird and whale pelagics this season. The sea was beautifully calm and mirror-like as we headed out from Staithes harbour at 6.30am. The  excitement of another day offshore easily overcame the challenge of a 4.30am start and we glided out of the harbour full of anticipation. Very soon, the first Minke Whale broke the glassy surface, and we were off to a good start. 

 Large numbers of Gannets thronged the horizon, so we continued out to sea. Sooty Shearwaters cruised past rediculously low over the sea, having to flap a fair deal due to the lack of breeze.

After we past the three mile mark, sightings of Minke Whales came thick and fast. The gang on board were delighted, with the smell of cabbage wafting through the air as the Stinky Minkes cleared their lungs before taking a deep breath. As always, I had explained that we keep a close eye out for whale 'blows' as that could indicate a different species; Minkes do blow but the vapour cloud is quite indistinct and quickly disperses. Over the years we have seen the occasional individual with a more prominent blow, but this seems the exception. Shortly, one of the clients said to me he had seen a whale blow on the horizon. This sounded interesting, so I stared hard into the distance. Nothing stirred beyond the ever-present Minkes. But then, a whale rolled. I missed the blow but saw the arch of the back, and it just screamed Humpback. Surely not! I announced that there might be a Humpback out here, but then it vanished. I began to doubt what I'd seen and suggested I had maybe just seen a Minke at a funny angle. A few tense minutes later, and a large blow came up 100 metres to starboard, followed by the roll of a Humpback; I yelled 'Humpback Whale!', cue pandemonium as we all grabbed our cameras and dived to the rail. Thirty seconds later, and the whale surfaced again and to our utter delight raisd the characteristic flukes high into the air, before slipping vertically back into the sea. Astonishing! 

OK, I have seen Humpback Whales quite a few times before, including off Flamborough Head, but I have always hoped to see one on a YCN pelagic. The Humpback was clearly feeding on the Herring, just like the Minkes, and slowly circled the area. Sean had cut the engine, and we gently drifted with the tide, watching this majestic whale with enormous grins on our faces. After about an hour, the whale, which we agreed was probably a juvenile, being similar in size to some of the bigger Minkes, decided to have a rest, and loafed on the surface, casually surfacing to breath every so often. After a few last pics, we left him of her in peace and continued our journey.

Whilst enjoying our last few sightings, our volunteer surveyor, Simon Ward mentioned he thought he had seen another Humpback a little further away. We all scanned in the required direction, but it didn't surface again. Amazingly, Simon was correct and his photos showed a second individual! 

As we meandered back to Staithes, two rather smart Caspian Gulls joined the throng of Gannets and Fulmars in our wake, whilst our tally of Sooty Shearwaters had reached over 20, Manx Shearwaters similar, with at least six Great and only one Arctic Skuas. 

Our tally of Minke Whales was at least 50, including a herd of over 25 which circled the boat as we first watched the Humpback. They had rather been eclipsed today, but we took time to appreciate our final sightings of these fantastic animals, all in the sight of Yorkshire cliffs. 

...

Back out in the afternoon, we had another fantastic trip, with at least 20 Minke Whales, though our Humpback friends were nowhere to be seen. Hopefully they will stick around while the feeding is good and more people will get to enjoy them.