Zen and the Art of Dipping.

A trip to Canvey for sea birds on the Easterlies was rudely interrupted by Birdguides, and Mike and I instead found ourselves at Cliffe, joining a surprisingly small crowd looking for Lesser Sand Plover. In summary, it had been present for a short while and had gone, but there was some optimism it would return.

We saw some decent birds. The annual autumn arrival of juveniles Curlew Sandpiper and Little Stint is one of the highlights of the birding calendar, and we saw plenty of those, plus a Pectoral Sandpiper, a Hobby, and some Pintail. 

We cut our losses and went for Canvey. We were way too late for the long-tailed skua, but had Common Scoter, distant Black Tern, and an Osprey that seemed to set off from the Kent coast and fly low towards Southend. Even at that distance, on 60x, I could make out the dark back, some white underneath, and that protruding head poking low from the body.

Then back to the car, and a quick check of Birdguides.

What do you want to see at that point? Do you want to see the Lesser Sand Plover has returned? Or it has not been seen again?

I think I've reached some kind of zen on the subject of missing rarities. I cannot be everywhere all the time. I make choices about where I'm going to be and when, and those choices mean I will miss some, or many rare birds. Ultimately I think most birders reach this point because it is pretty much impossible to do this activity on any reasonably regular way without consistently missing rare birds, so to preserve one's sanity and remain a reasonable person around the family, you have to reach a peace with that.

I'm sorry the Plover didn't return. Sorry that the birders we left on the mound didn't get the opportunity to see the bird and get it on their lists.

A disappointing sea watch

NE wind, autumn, Canvey Point. You know the score. 

Pitched up at 8am on a rising tide and found locals T and J already there. A good sign, firstly because they generally only appear when their considerable experience tells them sea birds will be present, and secondly because they both call out anything they see and are keen to share their expertise, which can be very welcome. Mike joined soon after.

The less good news - a bit quiet. 3 Arctic Skuas were harassing a large feeding flock of terns some way out. Then T found a Peregrine on the still exposed mud, and a scan of the mud had a Grey Plover still in summer plumage and 20 loafing Sandwich Terns. A male Common Scoter drifted in  and gave excellent scope views; I have had years when all my scoter views have been about half a mile out in passing flocks, so nice to see the bobble on the beak clearly. Mike picked up an adult Mediterranean Gull in full winter plumage, but for a while that was it; nothing much moving in the gloom.

Eventually a party of Common Terns went up river and J called two Black Terns in them, and a party of four soon after, frustratingly none of which I got.  Then on scanning an Arctic Skua came out of the mouth of the Thames, and flew straight towards us before passing just a few tens of yards off the shore. A dark juvenile, this was easily the closes I've been for a few years to this species. More scanning up river produced two terns coming out with bouncy dipping flight, and sure enough they were Black Terns, then four more appeared including one moulting adult. Having had a good look at one at Frampton earlier in the week, and noticed that whereas for a Common tern in flight the body is held level but for the Black Tern the body was going up and down as a counterweight to the movement of the wings, it was nice to use that as a clue to distant terns that they were Marsh Tern, and for that to turn out to be right. 

Two Pintail out, a Great Skua flying out of the river under the far bank, and 20 Golden Plover onto the shore, and that completed the list.

The locals seemed a bit disappointed, presumably because similar weather conditions had produced a Sabine's Gull earlier in the week, but for me from landlocked Herts there had been some excellent encounters with birds of the sea and a few decent ticks.

World's Shortest Sea Watch. Canvey Point 2nd October

A stonking big arrow on the weather chart, pointing right up the Thames. Go to Canvey Point. Just one small issue, that '99% probability of rain.' But that's alright, it just refers to the hour, not necessarily a prediction of continuous rain.

The obvious and sensible thing to do when pulling up at the point and seeing horizontal rain shooting across a lead-grey sky, would be to head instead for the centre of the island, pay a small fee in a car park, and set up in the shelter of the old coastguards base. Only a complete fool would try and birdwatch from the Point.

So, how did I get on at the Point? Well, it was really hard. And wet. The continual battering and rapid fogging of the optics meant very little could be seen. What I did manage to see were Gannets. Lots of Gannets, battling against the wind out of the estuary. Eventually a flock took off, and sixty, yes 60, Gannets were in the air at once flying slowly East. They settled again and more came in drabs from up river. But I was fighting a losing battle at this point, and after fifteen minutes it was a battle I had comprehensively lost. 

I did drive to the sensible part of town, but I was soaking and my optics useless. I couldn't stir myself to even get out of the car.

I saw on twitter the first tweet of what is likely to be an excruciating series where two local birders relaxing in the comfort of a dry wind-free sheltered area had counted a hundred Gannets, with no doubt more to come. But unless you are really experiencing ... oh forget it. I got this wrong. There is nothing more to be said. Good luck guys in the shelter. May your optics be filled with Sabines, Leaches, and other goodies.

Blue House Farm and Canvey Point revisited

The Pec was back. An hour away, nice reserve, easy decision. When I got there it was clear a number of others had thought similarly and folks turned up all morning, consequently the hide was well populated but good natured throughout.

The Pec was not visible at first. A wader about 100 yards out looked promising; it was asleep and stood facing away, but a brief lift of the head gave encouragement - not a Snipe. An hour later and it had rotated slightly to show white on the flanks and underneath, and then about thirty minutes later it completed the rotation et Voila! An unbroken neat breast band. Pectoral Sandpiper on the year list.

As is often the case when going see rarities, the star of the show was something different. In this case, a juvenile Curlew Sandpiper. It was consorting with two Ruff and came close under the hide. The three of them stood on a small island and the reflection of them in water as they stood bathed in direct sunlight from behind was something to behold. Needless to say my photo does not do justice.

The chap next to me had some top gear - a prime 500mm lens with a 1.4x converter. He very kindly offered to let me put my camera base on his lens and soon I was clicking away. What a lens! Auto focussing, the lot. There's a couple of cropped photos below. the poor composition is my fault but the crispness of the birds is something to behold. A very generous offer to put thousands of pounds of gear in my hands, the kind of encounter that gives you a warm glow all day.

Hobby hunting over the marsh, adult Yellow Wagtail in front of the hide and 2 Lesser Whitethroat in the car park completed the list.

I had intended to go to East Tilbury on the rising afternoon tide to get waders plus maybe some sea birds on the SE wind, but with the Curlew Sand in the bag I was off to Canvey Point instead. There had been some action in the morning but there was nothing to be seen when I got there. We managed 20 Commic Terns upstream, a Hobby from across the river ended up flying right over our heads, and towards the end of the watch a distant Manx Shearwater was drifting out of the estuary. That just left the local birds to admire; several Mediterranean Gulls, hundreds of Oystercatchers, a small flock of sparkling Grey Plovers, and a few Sandwich Terns. With some excellent company and warm sunshine it was a cracking second part to the day's watching.

BirdGuides has WWBT, Pom Skua, sooty shearwater and several Black Terns in the estuary today, but these birds are generally the reward to locals for many hours watching, and its an achievement to see any of these if you just turn up for a couple of hours on the off chance. Today was just nice to sit in the sun and see what drifted past.

Choices choices ...

A rare window of opportunity for some birding opened up on Sunday afternoon. Where to go? A guaranteed Sabine’s Gull on KG VI? Or take my luck on an unpromising westerly wind at Canvey Island Point and some waders that have taken up temporary residence at West Canvey RSPB?

I decided to take a third option: to spend an hour swearing, shouting and hammering the steering wheel in frustration whilst being held captive on he A130. Bastards! Whoever they are! I thought the Human Rights Act had abolished this sort of thing. Anyway, eventually Canvey Island Point, conveniently round the corner out of the wind, just me, one other, and a sun-light Thames Estuary.

The other birder found an all-brown dot on the horizon. Over the next fifteen minute it moved painstakingly slowly in our direction until a pair of white wing flashes were visible and with the short-tailed silhouette it was fairly straightforward to diagnose a Great Skua. An embarrassing number of months … err years since I last saw one. Easier and faster was a Manx Shearwater that eased upstream. Otherwise a flock of c100 Black-Tailed Godwits wheeled in unison, a few summer-plumage Grey Plovers were on the mud, and a few Sandwich Terns flew west.

Finally West Canvey RSPB. New to me. Juv Little Stint tick! Spotted Redshank tick! And three Green Sandpipers and a Ruff. Bonus tick!

Birdguides reported a long-tailed skua the same morning, Other local web sites reported Gannets, and Arctic Skua too. But no-one had our Great Skua and Manxie. Which just makes you wonder how many other birds go through un-recorded by these web sites.