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!