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Summer plumaged Slavonian Grebe Farmoor Reservoir courtesy of Richard Tyler.
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Highlights at a glance:
Slavonian Grebe.
Black-necked Grebe
Stone Curlew
Hoopoe
Nightjar
Pied Flycatcher
The two months under review are usually the least
eventful of the calendar for birding, and very settled hot dry weather this
summer has served to make 2018 no exception. It seemed the headlines were
mostly to do with temperatures while our patch watchers across the sweltering
county struggled for much of note to record, and found even less that was
twitchable. But still a few good birds and some other good news stood out.
An outstanding scarcity came right at the start
of June when on 2nd a splendid Slavonian Grebe in full breeding plumage
graced Farmoor Reservoir for the whole day. Following on from summer-plumaged
Black-necked Grebes both there and at Grimsbury Reservoir earlier in the year,
this was another popular draw with our photographers. It is certainly unusual
for both these colourful cousins to be seen so well in one season.
Perhaps the oddest record was that of a Stone Curlew picked up in Didcot (see below).
Perhaps the oddest record was that of a Stone Curlew picked up in Didcot (see below).
Though no longer a real Oxon scarcity, Marsh
Harrier must take equal billing for their continued breeding success at
RSPB OImoor. By mid-July it became clear the popular resident raptors had
fledged four young, and the at times comical antics of the family group were
observed on a regular basis thereafter.
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Cranes courtesy of Mark Brennan.
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Breeding news concerning the reserve's other summer crowd pullers has so far been mixed. Resident Bittern are known to have succeeded again, as evidenced by the feeding flights of adult birds. But for a fourth season the visiting pair of Common Crane lost their own young to natural predation.
Continuing the non-twitchable theme, both Great
White and Cattle Egret were reported though not photographed around
Otmoor from 6th to 8th June. But more birders caught up with a Black-necked
Grebe seen there from the second screen on 28th and 29th July.
A Nightjar was seen near the village of Filkins in the east of the county on the 15th although despite
searching the bird wasn't seen on subsequent evenings.
Given the lack of suitable nearby habitat, it is presumed that it was a transient bird.
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Nightjar courtesy of Ben Carpenter.
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searching the bird wasn't seen on subsequent evenings.
Given the lack of suitable nearby habitat, it is presumed that it was a transient bird.
The best of the rest:
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Dunlin courtesy of Steve Burch.
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Some familiar waders including Common and Green Sandpiper, Little Ringed and Ringed Plover, Dunlin and Oystercatcher were recorded regularly across Oxfordshire throughout these two months. A reminder that return passage is not too far away came when 12 Black-tailed Godwit flew over Otmoor
on 2nd July. Another was filmed at the county's newest worked patch Stratfield Brake, just north of Oxford on 14th; and 2 more settled at Bicester Wetland Reserve on 26th. 3 Whimbrel flew over Grimsbury Reservoir, Banbury on 29th.
Black-tailed Godwit by Badger.
Mid-July produced a number of Mediterranean
Gull sightings. 2 at Grimsbury Reservoir on 20th July were preceded by one
on the Big Otmoor scrape a day earlier; while for the truly sharp-eyed another
was spotted over east Oxford on 15th. A lone Kittiwake at Farmoor
Reservoir on 7th June then a juvenile Little Gull on 31st were further gull
sightings of note.
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Juvenile Little Gull Farmoor Reservoir courtesy of Dai.
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Kittiwake courtesy of Nic Hallam.
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What was presumably the last migratory Black
Tern of spring passed through Farmoor on 7th June; then the earliest
returnees, 6 to 10 birds stayed there
all day during a national movement on 26th July. A Sandwich Tern also
visited Farmoor briefly on 12th July.
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Black Terns courtesy of Nick Truby.
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Courtesy of Tezzer.
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Mandarin Duck courtesy of Ewan Urquhart.
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One of the more sought June / July small passerines is Spotted Flycatcher that this year was logged in 9 different locations across the county, sometimes in family groups. On 1st June there was also a stunning male Pied Flycatcher by the River Cherwell as Grimsbury Reservoir scored again.
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Courtesy of John Friendship-Taylor.
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Amongst other passerine news, on 6th June local
birders noticed a movement of Common Crossbill over Shillingford and
Lollingdon Hill in south-east Oxon, with up to 6 birds heard. The first return
passage Common Redstart were found in Long Meadow adjacent to Otmoor on
22nd July. Stonechat is believed to have bred on Otmoor for the first
time this summer, subject to confirmation.
Cuckoo continued to be seen or heard in the county for much of June. Lastly, a Hoopoe
was seen and photographed in East Hendred on 18th June. As usual with these
private garden occurences news only got out retrospectively, though on this
occasion just two days later.
As this review period ended so did the prolonged
heatwave and the countryside was granted the soaking it so needed. With a
possibly more changeable weather pattern in the coming weeks as return
migration clicks into gear, there might be rather more for the next summariser
to write about. Here's hoping! |
Peter Law birder naturalist and author of the
superb Ramblings & Scribblings blog.
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The Curious tale of the Didcot Stone Curlew.
On the 20th of July Paul Wren was contacted by a non birding friend for advice on what to do with an injured bird. It had been found in the doorway of a pub in the centre of Didcot mid-afternoon and it was suspected that the bird had sustained an injury.
The photo that was forwarded of the mystery bird certainly wasn't what was expected.
After several phone calls our heroic county recorder and Didcot resident was on site within minuets and had collected the precious cargo.
The juvenile Stonie was checked thoroughly for any injuries and fortunately none were found and it was decided to release him on to the Downs.
Despite no visible injuries our thick-kneed chum remained moribund upon release and after a discussion with the brilliant Little Foxes wildlife hospital it was decided to take him in to care.
After spending two days feeding and recuperating at the Withymead reserve at South Stoke under the careful watch of Roger Wyatt and Sue a second attempt to release the now much stronger bird
was to be made.
This time the bird flew off strongly and hopefully found some Stone Curlew chums.
Feeling the Fea: the Scillonian III pelagic, August 12th 2001
In 2001, as an inexperienced birder who lived far inland, I decided that I needed to see some more seabirds. I had read reports from the Scillonian III pelagic trip in 2000 (see here) and was inspired. Sooty, Great and Cory’s Shearwaters, Sabine’s Gulls and European Storm Petrels were frequently seen on these all-day trips from Penzance that headed south west into the Western Approaches of the Atlantic Ocean. But the Holy Grail was Wilson’s Petrel, which in recent years was being seen with increasing frequency. Not having the sort of job where I could drop everything and drive to Cornwall if the weather looked promising for seabird passage, such a trip seemed the best opportunity to maximise my chances of seeing some of the oceanic species of seabird on the British list. However, there was a downside. As the trip report from 2000 noted:
“The trip is not for the fainthearted. Many people refuse to set foot on the Scillonian fearing hours of sea-sickness for a brief moment of elation”.
Despite the warnings, I booked my place. In 2001 the Scillonian pelagic was scheduled for 12th August. Then five weeks before the trip, on 8th July 2001, news broke of a huge seabird event off the Scilly Isles. Bob Flood and Ashley Fisher were on their regular pelagic trip from St Marys when a Pterodroma petrel was attracted to the chum slick they had dispersed behind their boat. It passed close enough to be seen extremely well and good quality photographs were taken. It was conclusively identified as a Fea’s Petrel.
Fea’s Petrel is an extremely rare seabird in British waters. Between 1950 and 2000 there had been just 21 accepted records and none of these could be identified to species level. Instead such sightings were lumped together as “Fea’s/Zino’s Petrel”. These birds are the only northern hemisphere representatives of the Soft-plumaged Petrel group of the southern hemisphere.
Thanks to the experience and skill of the observers, combined with the excellent photographs, the bird seen off Scilly in July 2001 was identified as Britain’s first ever Fea’s Petrel (See here). For those of us waiting to head out into the Atlantic on the Scillonian III in mid-August, this generated mixed feelings. Rare seabird events are, by definition, exceptional. It felt like the big seabird moment of 2001 had happened some five weeks before I would be anywhere near the ocean.
The weekend of 11th and 12th August arrived and I drove down from Oxford to Penzance on the Saturday, a horrendous journey that took nearly 12 hours with the roads filled with stationary holiday traffic. I had fish and chips in Penzance then tried to have an early night at my B&B, near the docks.
It was cloudy and windy as I awoke at 4:30am and forced down some breakfast. I couldn’t quite bring myself to take some seasickness pills, even though I knew that they took 2 hours to work. It was a reflection of my inexperience with the sea that I decided that I would see how conditions were and would then take the medication as required. This was to prove a costly and traumatic decision.
I queued up in the dark and boarded the Scillonian III at 5am. We left Penzance at 5:30am and as soon as we were clear of the mainland, the extent of the swell became apparent. The wind picked up and loud crashes could be heard from the bar and dinning areas as glasses and cutlery were thrown around and smashed. I began to wonder if this was normal for a pelagic trip. After 45 minutes I was feeling terrible. Being outside and looking at the horizon did not help at all. The horizon was thrashing around all over the place as the boat crashed through the swell. Frequently we could hear a loud juddering roar as the propellers were lifted out of the water as the boat pitched violently forward. The smell of the diesel fumes nearly brought up my breakfast. I forced down some seasickness tablets with some water. The complete lack of any seabirds seemed to be upsetting some people, but I had more important things on my mind: I had turned green and I felt like I was going to die.
At 6:45 the inevitable happened. I rushed into the toilets. Every cubicle was locked and the occupant of each cubicle was lying on the floor with their legs protruding out from under the door. As the boat rolled from side to side a large slick of vomit washed from one side of the toilets to the other, coating the legs of the prostrate occupants in stomach contents. I grabbed hold of a urinal, prayed to a God that I did not previously believe to exist, and violently threw up. In a stunned state I opened my eyes slightly and to my horror I saw two, mostly undigested, seasickness tablets, smiling back at me from the urinal. I had thrown up the only two things that were going to make me feel human again.
I crawled back through the vomit lake and managed to get back to my seat, despite the ship pitching and rolling like a roller coaster. I looked out of the porthole next to me and saw my first European Storm Petrels, flying alongside the ship. Never has a British tick had so little feeling attached to it. I forced down more two seasickness tablets, then two more, just in case. I had lost all interest in birding, I was exhausted, covered in vomit and most of it was not mine. The thought occurred to me that there were 15 hours remaining before we were to dock in Penzance. I wondered how I was going to survive this experience.
Fortunately for me the only major side-effect of taking an overdose of seasickness tablets was fatigue. With a recommended dosage of 2 in 24 hours, I had taken 6 in 2 hours, although not all of these were digested. As a result, I passed out in my seat.
I am woken a little while later by a tannoy announcement: “Sabine’s Gull behind the fishing boat at 3 o’clock”. I jump to my feet, but instantly feel violently sick, so sink back into my seat. I let the Sabine’s Gull go, feeling disappointed, as it would have been my first.
By now there are people being sick everywhere. Some hunch over sick bags, some find the downwind rail of the ship. Some attempt to enter the toilets, but it resembles a scene from hell, bodies and vomit were everywhere. And yet, others are not only coping but are birding on the stern of the ship. How anyone could manage that was completely beyond me. Very few birds were seen during the first eight hours of the trip, fortunately for me as I was incapable of getting up to see them. There was talk of this being the worst pelagic trip in British birding history.
For the next few hours I drift into and out of consciousness, sometimes sleeping, sometimes vomiting. Gradually the winds and swell recede slightly, the seasickness medication finally begins to work and I manage to eat something. Around lunchtime, I feel brave enough to go out on deck and to try to begin birding. We are now at our destination – a featureless piece of the Atlantic, known as the Wilson’s Triangle. Chumming begins, a mixture of rotting fish and fish oils are dumped from the ship, as pelagic bird species are attracted by the appalling smell. I was at the side of the boat, about half way along, reasoning that the centre of the ship moves less than the stern or bow. This position also protected me from the smell of the chum.
The chum began to work its magic. Appearing out of nowhere, bird numbers began to build up. Several hundred Gannets wheel around, plunge diving for larger pieces of chum. European Storm Petrels were everywhere, zipping and flittering over the surface of the sea. Perhaps 200 birds were present. We scanned through them in the hope of a glimpse of a Wilson’s Petrel.
A second Sabine’s Gull was called from the other side of the ship, but I didn’t make it round in time to get onto it. Then my side of the boat had a treat, a Great Shearwater did a close pass, giving fantastic views.
At just after 14:30 there was a tannoy announcement that will stay with me forever: “Soft-plumaged Petrel in the wake!”. I had no idea what this meant. All I knew was that there was a bird so rare that I had not even heard of it, somewhere behind the boat that I was standing on. Simultaneously, every single birder tried to get to the stern of the Scillonian III.
The wake behind the Scillonian III, 12th August 2001 © Tom Bedford
If my senses were working, rather than having been dulled by sleep deprivation, eight hours of vomiting and recurrent seasickness tablet overdoses, then I would have quickly worked out that the bird following the ship was a Fea’s Petrel, one of the Soft-plumaged Petrel group. As it turned out, it was the very same bird seen from the Scilly pelagic five weeks beforehand.
I began scanning through the mass of feeding seabirds in the wake of the ship, just looking for something, anything, different. I got lucky. After ten seconds I got onto a pale grey and white seabird that, as I watched, looped up from just above the sea, wheeled up high above the horizon before skimming back down low over the sea again. I saw the dark “M” across the upperwing and the white body contrasting with the dark underwing. And then it was gone.
© British Birds 99, August 2006, p402.
There was a moment of silence and then a spontaneous outbreak of joy and applause from those birders that had seen the Fea’s Petrel. Strangers high-fived and shook hands. Unfortunately, only about half the birders on the boat had connected with the bird. They need not have worried. Almost immediately the Fea’s Petrel was located again off the side of the ship, whereupon it proceeded to give a close fly-by down the entire starboard side. As it glided past us, just below eye level, there was complete silence on board, as everyone drunk in dream views of a dream bird. In fact, the Fea’s Petrel remained around the ship for one hour and 15 minutes, still the longest ever viewing of this species in British waters.
2 Wilson’s Petrels were then located, pretty much simultaneously at the front and rear of the boat. The tannoy announced “Wilson’s Petrel with the Soft-plumaged Petrel at 3 o’clock” and was greeted with delirious, incredulous laughter. We could not believe what was playing out in front of us. We had suffered so much, but the rewards had been incredible. At 16:30 we began our return journey. The sea was flat and the sun was shining. The horror of the morning was behind us, we all knew we had experienced something pretty special.
Calm scenes on the upper deck of the Scillonian III on the return journey © Tom Bedford
Postscript
Just four days later, back home in Oxfordshire, Nic Hallam found a superb adult Sabine’s Gull at Farmoor, only the second record for the county. Even better, it stayed for three days and I saw it. At 25 metres range in lovely evening sunlight. Somehow, pulling back an adult Sabine’s Gull so soon after missing two from the Scillonian III pelagic just added to the magic of the Scillonian experience.
Tom Bedford
An expanded version of this story, with embedded identification articles and field notes, can be found here:
Out of the Blue Sky
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