There’s no doubt about it,
2016 has been a truly exceptional year in the world of birding! Back in January
nobody would have predicted that 12 months later we would have experienced an
autumn knee deep in Siberian Accentors, that a Red-footed Booby would have been
gallivanting on a shingle beach in Sussex no less, or perhaps most miraculously
of all, that most doomed and mythical of American vagrants - the notorious
Black-billed Cuckoo - would not only survive for more than a few days(!) but
would give itself up for the twitching masses to enjoy, unblocking decades
worth of anguish. To imply that 2016 has been uneventful would be a downright
injustice to say the least!
The now famous Easington Siberian Accentor
The Red-footed Booby taken in to care in Sussex (Credit: East Sussex WRAS)
North Uists very own Black-billed Cuckoo
Naturally, long-held records
have tumbled, blockers have been banished and year lists shattered in what was
a truly eventful year. The Eastern Kingbird on Barra broke hearts as it flew
off high in to the clouds not once, but twice, the bona-fide first for Britain
Western Swamphen(/chicken) amused visitors at Minsmere RSPB as it strutted
around the reedy pools, while the aforementioned Red-footed Booby set pulses
racing for a short while as questions were asked as to whether this Caribbean
seabird, a long way from home, would be released in British waters after its
recovery (it was eventually flown over to the Cayman Islands to continue
rehabilitation there).
Minsmere's Purple Swamphen/chicken - aka "Hen"
Several other less convincing
‘firsts’ were also tracked across the country – the arrival of a Dalmatian
Pelican in Cornish airspace caused absolute chaos as birders from across the
country raced down to the south west tip of Britain to tick this giant visitor,
thought by many to be the real deal from Poland until a bit of detective work
and digging revealed several free-flying escapes now make their home in Western
Europe…
Plastic Fantastic - the Cornish Dalmatian Pelican
Equally as ‘untickable’ was
the West Country Lammergeier – the video of an immature seen flying off from
rocks on the Severn Estuary quickly went viral and the chase was on to track
its movements and whereabouts along the west coast counties. Proving extremely
elusive and often vanishing in to the depths of the Devon hills to the despair
of many, the question remains as to just what category this British bonecrusher
will fall under – reintroduction and captive breeding projects in Europe are
unfortunately the most likely source, and several other young birds from these
conservation initiatives have also been seen to range up in to northern Europe
in the past few years.
Meanwhile the first Forster’s
Tern in British seas for 13 years was a welcome addition to many lists, the
Great Knot showing well on the beach at Titchwell proved that not all visitors
of this species follow the rules of being “Great Dots”, while only the second
ever Pale-legged Leaf Warbler crashed in to a window on St Agnes, meeting an
untimely end and making those on the island wish they’d paid a little bit more
attention to that bright looking Arctic Warbler the day before. The East coast’s
flyby Black-browed Albatross both delighted those lucky enough cross paths with
it and left others cursing as it gave them the run around in equal measures,
while Eyebrowed, Whites, Dusky and Black-throated Thrushes all on the mainland reminded
us all exactly what could be lurking out there just waiting to be found over
the winter….
Beeley's overwintering Dusky Thrush
The Northumberland Eyebrowed Thrush photographed by Ross Moore in December
While narrowly missing out on
the top five, there were still a whole host of awe-inspiring species that made
the year memorable. The Suffolk Cliff Swallow in the dying embers of the year
was a huge grip back after the disappointment of the just slightly too far away
St Mary’s bird on Scilly a couple of months previous, as was the Kent ‘Meena’ Oriental Turtle Dove, a species I’ve long rued not going for after the famous
Chipping Norton bird. The Aberdeen White-winged Scoter was a bird I had
personally wanted to see for a good while, being just the 2nd for Britain
to boot, while it doesn’t get much better than a mega just 20 minutes away from
your door in the form of the May White-crowned Sparrow at Woolston Eyes.
Cliff Swallow - what a grip back!
It is an Oriental Turtle Dove...honest!
Digiscoped White-winged Scoter!
David Bowman's photo of the Woolston Eyes White-crowned Sparrow in the hand
Several trips abroad during 2016 also resulted in absolutely breath-taking
birds – the kaleidoscope of colour that is a male Painted Bunting, the bright
burst of salmon pink underparts as a flock of remarkable Scissor-tailed
Flycatchers take off from the wires and the elegant, ever graceful Swallow-tailed
Kites soaring over the Florida everglades are all truly unforgettable memories.
Painted Bunting - aka "Male"
Scissor-tailed Flycatcher
One of the best birds in the world - the Swallow-tailed Kite
And so, to the best birds that
2016 had to offer….
5th place for the
year goes to the completely unexpected and out of the blue record of the
Connah’s Quay Little Auk back in January. A lifer for me, having never
previously seen these adorable looking arctic alcids, we had great views as
this usually ocean bound seabird paddled around just feet away in the small pools
and inlets of the reserve. A truly amazing birding experience, and I for one
was exceptionally glad that my first encounter with a Little Auk was so ‘up
close and personal’ as opposed to being a distant dot making its way across a
stormy sea.
In 4th place has to be one
of the most elusive and enigmatic seabirds encountered in British waters – the
Wilson’s Storm-petrel. Having endured over 30 hours of seasickness in our quest
to catch up with this enchanting tubenose as well as braving 40mph gales and
towering walls of crashing water, we finally struck it lucky on our third and
final Scilly pelagic of the summer, with no fewer than 4 individuals performing
their ocean acrobatics at close range as they danced over the waves. An
unforgettable experience and one I’d highly recommend to anyone who’s yet to
head out to sea on one of Bob Flood and the team’s now famous voyages.
3rd position is of course
the Brunnich’s Guillemot that made Anstruther harbour in Fife its home back in
September. With not going down for the Portland bird being a huge regret, I was
doubtful another opportunity to see this mega auk in British waters would come
along soon, so when news broke that one was providing extremely close views
around the boats and appeared to be in full moult (indicating it wouldn’t be
going anywhere fast!) we made the long journey up to the east coast of Scotland
in an attempt to connect. Swimming to within mere feet away, it’s true that the
closest birding encounters are usually the most memorable, and despite the true
to form Scottish weather trying to dampen proceedings, it was great to get such
fantastic views of the Brunnich’s diving for fish in front of us. Sadly
however, as was expected due to its rather peaky looking demeanour and poor
feather condition throughout the week, the Brunnich’s was found to have died by
Saturday morning, presumably exhausted and representing a tragic end to a top
little bird.
Brunny!
Some birds have a mythical,
almost legendary status on the British twitching scene, generating a certain level
of excitement whenever whispers of news surrounding their arrival surface –
Wallcreeper, Rubythroat, and almost any mega American Warbler or Siberian waif
from far away all fall in to that category. Another, is of course, the
Black-billed Cuckoo – perhaps the most doomed of all American vagrants - absent
from British records since the 1980’s and early 90’s, apart from a brief flyby
appearance on Orkney two years ago. It seemed an almost impossible feat that
this monster cuckoo would be making its way on to any modern lists any time
soon….. But, as the saying goes, anything is possible in the world of birding,
and news of one photographed sitting on a fencepost on North Uist happily
tucking in to caterpillars sent the twitching community in to a spin. 2nd position and narrowly missing out on
the top spot is of course none other than North Uist’s cracking Black-billed Cuckoo, the first spring adult of its kind to grace UK shores and an absolutely
stonker of a specimen.
Black-billed Cuckoo - narrowly missing out on top spot...
Found late on the Sunday
evening and with Coccyzus cuckoos in Britain usually having an expiry date of
around 2 days, it was therefore a huge ask for the bird to last a whole week
and stay until the following weekend. But stay it did, and Friday evening saw
us make the mammoth treck up to Uig on the Isle of Skye to catch the ferry over
to Lochmaddy the next day. With an almost heart-breaking sat-nav miscalculation
and a frantic drive to the ferry terminal soon forgotten as we sailed over to
this beautiful outcrop of Scottish scenery, we finally clapped eyes on our
prize – one remarkable adult Black-billed Cuckoo. Our most adventurous twitch
to date having never travelled to the far flung Scottish islands in pursuit of
one bird before, the trip felt like a personal achievement and just goes to show
that those who do make the effort really do reap the rewards. An incredible
bird, surrounded by breath-taking scenery in a beautiful location, it really
doesn’t get much better than that!
Despite all this, 2016 will go
down in birding history for one thing – the invasion of a certain golden
patterned accentor from the east on an unprecedented scale that many are
touting as the birding event of the century so far. Generating interest across
the country, providing a spectacle never seen before in Europe let alone on
British soil and causing even long-retired twitchers to dust off their bins, in
top spot, is of course, the widespread invasion of Siberian Accentors that took
Britain by storm this autumn.
Number one for 2016 - the Siberian Accentor at Easington
When news broke that perhaps
the most widely anticipated first for Britain had finally made landfall on
Shetland (where else?!) the entire British birding community collectively lost
their minds as one. With photos surfacing depicting this golden sprite showing
mind-bogglingly well by a small quarry up in the deepest wilderness of
Shetland, it seemed nigh on impossible that the vast majority would ever get
this special bird on their lists, instead having to settle for gazing at the
many jaw-dropping photographs flooding the net. Fast forward just a matter of
days however, and Thursday afternoon saw the news break that stopped all
twitchers in their tracks – “Siberian Accentor: Easington, Yorkshire. One by
the school”. A mainland Siberian Accentor – the stuff birding dreams are made
of. One mad dash later and we were gazing upon this tiny piece of Russian gold for
ourselves, hopping around on the now famous mossy covered drive alongside the
equally as famous yellow skip. Mind-blowing.
The famous skip!
For me, this tiny Russian visitor
was without doubt the bird of the year, a species I’d never imagined I’d ever
see in the world, let alone in Britain. Watching it forage around in the leaf
litter alongside Dunnocks and Robins was completely surreal, none the wiser to
the absolute chaos, stress and above all excitement its arrival had caused. A
magical bird and a worthy winner of the crown for Best Bird of 2016.
With 2017 just around the
corner, who knows what avian delights await us over the next 12 months –
perhaps an overwintering Rubythroat or mega Siberian Thrush, a smattering of
brightly coloured American warblers come the autumn or perhaps even that most
sought after and ever hoped for modern day twitchable British Wallcreeper.
Fingers crossed!
Come the evening of Sunday 22nd
May I don’t know what blew my mind more – the fact that the Birdguides app mega
alert sound was in fact the call of a Black-billed Cuckoo (check out Xeno Canto
for those that don’t know!) or the fact that there was an actual Black-billed
Cuckoo sat on a fence in far-away North Uist, happily feeding on caterpillars
and being twitched by a handful of very lucky birders! The photographs that
soon surfaced showing a fine, healthy, pristine spring adult gobbling juicy
green caterpillars were even more mind blowing.
The Uist Black-billed Cuckoo - an absolutely crazy record!
Before now, all previous
records of Black-billed Cuckoo in Britain have been of autumn juveniles, each
having the same sad glimmer of despair in the eyes and resigned to the
inevitable fate that was waiting for them here on this side of the Atlantic –
none have lasted longer than 3 days, with American cuckoos being notorious for
perishing after making the crossing. Turning up in Britain it seems results in
certain death as far as Coccyzus cuckoos are concerned.
With news breaking late on the
Sunday night, the chances of it sticking until the following weekend, especially
going on the past unfortunate history of this species, may have at first glance
appeared extremely slim and approaching zero. This bird however was unchartered
territory – never before had a spring individual made it across to these
shores, and certainly not a healthy adult. Could it do the unthinkable and
stick around for a whole week? Surely not….
As the days slowly ticked by
the news remained positive - each day boat and plane loads of birders happily
connected and reported the bird as still present and showing well. Plans
started to form, and with confirmation that the cuckoo was still in its
favoured gardens come Friday morning, I sprang into action and hastily booked
us some accommodation for our trip. An overnight stop in Fort William would
break up the daunting 9 hour drive after work, with the last 2 ¾ hours to our
ferry at Uig on Skye undertaken the following morning. Seemingly simple?
Things started to unravel as
we neared Glasgow. An ominous silence on the Cuckoo’s whereabouts since near
midday was broken by negative news late on in the evening – the bird hadn’t
been seen all afternoon and was last reported as “disappearing over the top of
a hill”. This was not good. As another birder had put it, a bird seemingly
‘doing one’ over the top of a hill has never resulted in anything positive when
twitching is concerned! Never the less, we ploughed on to Fort William, dodging
deer on the way and feeling somewhat disheartened at the fact we were seemingly
driving towards a dip.
The heart-stopping Birdguides report whilst driving up through Glasgow!
After a much needed night’s
sleep in the Travelodge I came out of the shower to be met with the welcome
news that the cuckoo was back in the gardens…. twitch on! It transpired that
the previous report had been slightly lost in translation, as the bird had
simply dropped down in to vegetation between the two houses on the slope and
had disappeared from view – not flying away over a hill as we had all feared!
Fort William
Luckily, we decided to leave
the Travelodge that morning with the aim of getting to the ferry terminal at
Uig in good time – 2 hours early to be precise. This proved to be one of the
best decisions we’d ever made, as arriving at Mallaig ferry terminal after an
hour’s drive, the devastating reality dawned on us – the sat-nav had planned
the route to Skye via a small island ferry crossing at Mallaig instead of over
the bridge at the Kyle of Lochalsh. This was a disaster, and I’ve never felt
more crushed on a twitch (not even the time when we actually dipped the
Yellow-billed Cuckoo in Cornwall after a 7 hour drive through the night). With
the next Mallaig ferry not until after 11am and only being offered a standby
place, we were well and truly stuck. We were now over an hour away from where
we had started off this morning at Fort William, with a further 2 ¾ hours on
top of that, and time was fast slipping away. After coming all this way it
seemed we had fallen at the final hurdle – we simply weren’t going to make it.
With no guaranteed place on
the crossing we made the decision to try and get to Uig – last boarding was at
1:30pm and our sat navs arrival time predicted 1:52pm – a huge feat to try and
make up half an hour on the winding mountain roads complete with their caravan
induced tailbacks. With Alex driving like an absolute hero and watching our
arrival time get steadily shorter, as I eyed the sat-nav dial move down to
1:37pm I started to think we might be in with a chance…..
Remarkably, we eventually made
it to Uig at 1:24pm, although no ferry in sight as we were driving down the
hill towards the pier convinced me we had somehow come to the wrong port in the
absolute cruellest twist of fate – had we messed up again?! We were relieved
therefore to pull in to the terminal and be met with a jumble of birders,
scopes and tripods. Relief took over – we had somehow made it!
In a sheer stroke of luck, the
ferry had been delayed from its departure on Uist and wasn’t due in until
quarter to 2, allowing us plenty of time to purchase our tickets, park, unload
the car and somehow be one of the first ones on board!
Enjoying the ferry crossing,
we were finally able to relax and take in the beautiful scenery and wildlife
that Scotland has to offer. A pair of Golden Eagles drifted distantly over the
hillside, while a White-tailed Eagle eyrie on the distant Skye cliffs was just
about visible through binoculars. Several Black Guillemots – one of my
favourite birds – joined the other auks during the crossing, while the occasional
summer plumaged Great Northern Divers showed off their spectacular black and
white patterns. Two Arctic Skuas bombed past the side of the boat, while both
Harbour Porpoises and a distant pod of Bottlenose Dolphins kept us entertained
as they took advantage of the rich pickings the Scottish seas produce food
wise.
With Dan Pointon getting word
that the cuckoo was still present during the 2 hour journey across, once we had
docked into Lochmaddy there was a mad scramble to pick up hire cars. With the
ferry fully booked for cars on the Saturday sailings seemingly weeks in advance,
the majority of birders (us included) were foot passengers, and we were
thankfully offered a lift around the island by local Marbury birder Mal and his
wife – life savers and we were eternally grateful!
15 minutes later we were on
site and the search was on. The cuckoo had apparently disappeared an hour
earlier in the gardens down the hill and had yet to be located, and as more and
more birders arrived we spread out and covered the surrounding area. Having
favoured the same couple of gardens since its arrival a week earlier, the
cuckoo had recently become a lot more mobile over the last couple of days,
ranging across Loch Sandary in to a number of gardens. With absolutely glorious
weather on Uist I was soon regretting wearing my woolly walking boots and thick
coat as the sun beat down – for an island up on the northern edges of Britain
it was surprisingly warm!
As the time passed there was
still a sense of optimism that the cuckoo would be found – it was undoubtedly
still in the area and with around 40 or so birders looking it was only a matter
of time before someone located it. Serenaded by a soundtrack of the rasping
notes of Corncrakes hiding deep in the Irises and with several Common Cuckoos
calling and making occasional flights harassed by a mob of Meadow Pipits, after
around an hours searching, Alex suddenly pointed ahead of us – “Look, what’s
that flying towards us?!”.
It was of course, the cuckoo -
flying straight ahead of us and attempting to land on the roof of a nearby
house before doubling back and diving straight in to a thick patch of scrub.
Familiar with Coccyzus cuckoos in flight after seeing Yellow-billed in America,
we knew instantly that we had our prize.
Immediately getting the attention of
the birders nearby and shouting over that we had it, word soon spread, and
before long a steady stream of birders could be seen sprinting up the track,
hoping to get a glimpse of this most magical of birds.
Happy twitchers!
Showing well for the next 45
minutes or so, everyone present was able to enjoy fantastic views of this
almost mythical American vagrant as it flitted between the houses and patches
of vegetation in the immediate area, perching obligingly at the top of bushes
and fence posts and allowing us all to get stunning views of that deep dark
curved bill and striking crimson eye ring.
Relatively mobile and
constantly being harassed by a pair of Meadow Pipits, the cuckoo eventually
dropped down in to a large bush and out of sight. It was easy to see how the
bird could get lost in this remote habitat for long periods of time, and
without large numbers of birders searching the area it could easily go
undetected.
The gardens the cuckoo was favouring
With the cuckoo off show and
with everyone ecstatic about connecting with this truly monstrous bird (some
birders even cracked open bottles of Malt Whisky on site to celebrate) we
headed back to our accommodation for the evening, taking in the beautiful
surroundings that North Uist has to offer and elated that we had managed to
pull off what was a truly epic twitch.
The view from our accommodation - gorgeous!
With just 15 records in the UK
to date, Black-billed Cuckoo is one of those birds that has a near mythical
status on British birders lists. With the fact that individuals rarely last
more than a day and with no records in the last 25 years bar an individual seen
briefly by a handful of people on Orkney back in 2014, this was a species that
no one expected to get on their lists any time soon – and most certainly not
this spring! Long gone are the heydays of the 80’s (when remarkably four in one
year were recorded in 1982) and coupled with an apparent decline of this
species in their natural range in America, the prospects of Black-billed Cuckoo
occurring in Britain, let alone being twitchable, looked increasingly bleak.
The eventual stay of 10 days
by the North Uist Black-billed Cuckoo before its apparent departure on the
following Wednesday also finally put to bed the rumours that have long been
doing the rounds that British caterpillars are toxic to American cuckoos (and
are the cause of death after they make it over here). Rather, it is far more
likely that autumn juveniles just cannot cope with the Atlantic crossing (often
in huge debilitating storms) and simply succumb to exhaustion or lack of food. The
fact that the Uist bird was an adult, as
well as there perhaps being a greater abundance of caterpillars in the spring
compared to the autumn may have set it apart from the rest and ensured its
chance of survival.
Another mystery is when and
exactly where the cuckoo arrived this side of the Atlantic. While it is
possible that it made its way across this spring and made landfall straight on
North Uist, there is an alternative scenario that it instead arrived on the
back of the huge autumnal storms last October somewhere else in Europe or in
Africa, before overwintering on the continent and making a parallel migration
north once May approached. Regardless of its arrival, this was an absolutely
phenomenal bird that I for one certainly didn’t expect to be seeing any time
soon!
Seconds after I took the top photo, Alex spotted an Otter in the exact spot! The small brown squiggle under the gull may quite possibly be it!
Despite the huge distance up to Uist (Alex heroically did all the driving single-handedly) I always find island twitches to be some of the most enjoyable. The incredibly scenery and wildlife in Scotland (I even saw my first wild Otter) is always a joy to behold, and we both had a fantastic and enjoyable weekend twitching a bird that is sure to live on in the memory for years to come. As they say – he who dares, wins – and we most certainly did on this occasion.
Alex's video of the Black-billed Cuckoo in all it's glory!
