When a Pacific Diver remarkably turned up on an inland pool in Northumberland last week, it was extremely tempting to make the long journey up north in an attempt to catch up with this American visitor. Despite having previously seen the returning Penzance bird in Cornwall on two separate occasions, this was a great chance to watch this mega diver species up close and an opportunity we simply couldn’t pass up! I’ve always maintained I would twitch an inland Pacific Diver should one ever occur again, and sure enough Saturday morning saw us travelling north up the M1 to Northumberland!
Arriving on site just after lunch and with the diver having relocated to Druridge Bay CP (after apparently attempting to fly back out to sea before doing a u-turn and crash landing on the ice), straight away we were afforded outstanding views as it made several circuits right in front of us around the north west corner of Ladyburn Lake.
With the Penzance Pacific Diver remaining mostly distant, this was a not-to-be-missed opportunity to really see the distinguishing features up close for ourselves and to try and get some photographs. Being present for 3 days before the ID was nailed as Pacific instead of the previously thought Black-throated Diver, the lack of a pale white flank patch was the giveaway to its true identity, while the black, albeit faint chinstrap visible at closer range sealed the deal.
Enjoying amazing views of the diver for a good hour and a half as it swam and dived right in front of us, it seemed totally unfazed by its squad of paparazzi admirers, at several points surfacing mere metres away from the crowd! It’s not every day you get to see a diver show so well, let alone a 6th for Britain Pacific Diver!
With several other features distinguishing Pacific Divers from the similar Black-throated (it was only very recently split) the black vent strap was visible on several photographs, while the slightly smaller structure and size as well as the short, fine bill on the Pacific Diver were some of the more subtle features we noted that separate the two species.
We also noticed that the Pacific Diver also tended to leap out of the water quite considerably when diving compared to other species of diver, again, another subtle difference from the Black-throated.
Ladyburn Lake - the Pacific Diver often came to within feet!
Far more used to an ocean-going existence, fingers crossed the diver will be ok and eventually make it back out to sea – whilst it was diving constantly during our visit, we only saw it feed successfully twice, and even then on exceptionally small fish.
Alex's great video of the Pacific Diver in action!
Never the less, this was an incredible experience to get so close to a remarkable bird, and even my car breaking down mid-route northbound up the A1 wasn’t going to stop us seeing it!
When news of a female Pine
Bunting at Venus Pools in Shropshire broke on New Year’s Day, we were keen to
catch up with this mega bunting first hand, and at only 1 hour 20 from
Cheshire, the short distance to travel came as a welcome change!
Arriving on site the next day for
just after 10 and with news put out earlier that the Pine Bunting had been seen
and showing well in the kale mid-morning, it seemed to be a no brainer that we
would connect soon.
Unfortunately however, it
seemed the Pine Bunting had other ideas, and a frustrating few hours ensued in
bitterly cold weather where despite the abundance of Yellowhammers, Reed
Buntings and Corn Buntings on site, the Pine Bunting failed to put in an
appearance.
The Pine Bunting hedge!
All good things come to those who
wait however, and despite my feet having now turned into literal blocks of ice
having been nestled in the frost covered grass all morning, eventually Alex
picked up a very pale looking bunting moving through the hedge before dropping
down in to the grassy verge below.
Getting the 20 or so birders
immediately around us on it, simultaneous cries of joy went up: “That’s it –
Pine Bunting!” Success! Watching this greyscale bunting hop around for a good
few minutes we were able to note a number of features, the two white wing bars
and white edged primaries the most notable differentiating feature, along with
the pale white chest lined with delicate, fine rusty brown speckles forming a
necklace of sorts. The head pattern was also notably different from the associating
Reed and Corn Buntings, none of the clearly defined facial patches or rustic
brown and cream tones we had been used to seeing on the Reed Buntings all
morning, instead sporting a plain grey nape, overall plain grey face and we
were just able to make out the fine dark lines near the eye and small white
spot on the cheek.
The female Pine Bunting by Jim Almond. It reminded more of an American sparrow looks wise.
Hopping back up on to the
hedge for a period of time, the greyish buff tones and stripes on the back
looked clearer in comparison to the nearby Reeds, while other birders watching
made note of the rusty coloured rump.
The pure white wing diagnostic of Pine Buntings and eliminating any Yellowhammer doubts. Photo by Jim Almond.
Books and images of female
Pine Buntings can only get you so far however, and having no field experience
we were a little unsure as to what would be noticeable in the field and what
wouldn’t. However, once spotted, the Pine Bunting, despite the differences
being relatively subtle, did stand out, giving the overall impression of
“frosty bunting that looked as if it had been frosted with frost”.
This video of a female Pine Bunting clearly shows the identification features of this tricky species, and is exactly how our bird looked in the field.
This great document explores the identification of Pine Buntings in all plumage stages in extreme detail, and is a fantastic tool when trying to clinch the ID of what can be a tricky species. The excellent Birding Frontiers article also illustrates what to look for when separating female Pine Buntings from other similar species.
It was, nevertheless, great
to have other birders on site who had direct experience with often tricky
female Pine Buntings, having seen multiple different individuals before and all
offering their confirmation that this was indeed the bird we had travelled to
see. Certainly, throughout the afternoon there were a lot of false alarms and
confusion in the crowds, with several faintly marked Reed Buntings trapping the
unwary while later in the week a Corn Bunting with extensive white on the
primaries tricked more than one observer on separate occasions. With Corn
Buntings having a much larger, chunkier bill, overall “yellow ochre” colouring
and extensive black markings on the chest however, careful observation should
be enough to eliminate these as a potential pitfall.
Corn Bunting - note the thicker bill and darker spotted chest
Unfortunately, the very few
record shots that we did manage to take did very little to do the Pine Bunting
justice, my poor ability at taking photos with my phone through a scope attributing
to this!
Dreadful photo!
Rather disappointingly, some individuals who weren’t actually on site
tried to ID the bird from this one poor record shot, ignoring ours and everyone
else’s field observations in the process and maintaining that it wasn’t the
Pine Bunting. It is always worth remembering that field observations on site
are always a better way to judge the ID of a bird as opposed to one single
photograph depicting the bird in poor quality and at a bad angle, as the recent
Orphean Warbler/Lesser Whitethroat mix up in Suffolk just goes to prove. It’s
much better to take detailed field notes in correlation with other observers
who have past experience of the species in question in the field, than to try
and judge from a single shot.
It's hard to make out the details on this set of photos of the Pine Bunting too, illustrating how certain features can be affected by picture quality.
Indeed, if a record shot showing the bird clearly
IDable to others is required for all new species seen by a person, then the
Dorset Short-toed Eagle, Blyth’s Pipit, Pied-billed Grebe and Wilson’s
Phalarope would all have to be taken off my list for a start!
All of which showed well through the scope, despite the poor record shots!
With no confirmed sightings of the Shropshire Pine Bunting since the 2nd, and with the vast majority of photos over the following days depicting the aberrant Corn Bunting, our eastern visitor seems to have moved on. After such strong easterlies during the autumn however and with a bit of a mini influx of Pine Buntings occurring this year, there may well be more hiding out there in Yellowhammer flocks across the country!
When news broke of a Black-throated Thrush photographed only an hour away in St Asaph towards the end of December, it was a no brainer to make the short journey over the next day in an attempt to catch up with this Siberian visitor. With just a single observation in the Hawthorn trees surrounding the football pitch on the Friday afternoon and again showing itself only on one occasion early on Saturday morning to just a handful of birders, the trail went cold over the following days as the thrush seemingly vanished in to thin air, despite the hundred or so strong flock of Redwings and Blackbirds remaining to take advantage of the rich pickings in the leaf litter.
The St Asaph Black-throated Thrush
Luckily, Alex was on the case living just 10 minutes away, and over successive visits throughout the next two days, he finally managed to pin down this elusive thrush’s location! Having been frequenting an area just a short hop over the other side of the River Elwy and favouring the stubble field and Hawthorn tree next to the New Inn pub, the re-find certainly made a lot of local birders extremely happy! A large amount of people were able to connect over the following days as a result, but being back in work meant I wasn’t able to see this local rarity myself until the Thursday. Unfortunately, the thrush didn’t play ball upon my arrival after two days of showing well, and the trail once more went cold as it did a disappearing act mid-morning shortly before I arrived – I couldn’t dip for a third time surely?!
The Hawthorn alleyway I'd been scoping for most of the day
Thankfully, 4 ½ hours of trudging up and down the muddy riverside path later, a pale brown thrush flew in to the favoured Hawthorn tree and the shouts went up that all those remaining looking had been hoping for: “That’s it – Black-throated Thrush, here now!!” Abandoning my half eaten sandwich I quickly got it in the scope, the gorgeous brown speckled chest almost glowing in the late afternoon sun as it perched proudly in the bare winter branches. Fantastic!
Luckily we had prime position on our side of the river – the 30 or so others on the opposite bank had the agonising choice to make of whether to try and scope into the ditch the thrush had now flown in to (out of sight from the east side and at an impossible angle to see) or walk all the way back around to the bridge and hope that it stayed feeding until they could get on it!!
It did indeed stay, and over the next half an hour or so we enjoyed great views as the thrush fed in the stubble field - showing off the light brown chest that indicated that this was a female and lacking the jet black throat that a male bird would display. At one point it pulled up a huge worm, tucking in before eventually flying off over towards the nearby houses.
The Black-throated Thrush's favourite stubble field
Heading back to the car as the light was fading, a quick check of the Hawthorn alleyway I’d been scoping all day surprisingly revealed the thrush had perched up for a last feed before dark, and we enjoyed great views just to ourselves as it scrambled through the branches above us before flying off in to the tall trees behind the houses – presumably to roost.
The gardens and houses the Black-throated Thrush had been frequenting
An absolute nightmare to catch up with and one of the most elusive birds I’ve ever twitched, it was a relief to finally get it on my 3rd attempt after over 11 hours of searching! With the Black-throated Thrush staying in the same stubble field and surrounding Hawthorns up until New Year’s Eve, there has been no sign of it since the turn of the New Year, the firework display at the New Inn pub perhaps moving it on overnight to a new patch of ground and favoured feeding spot. A great local bird to catch up with and yet another rare thrush delivered after an exceptional autumn! Overwintering Siberian Thrush now anyone?!
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!
